And You Call Yourself A Christian (10 page)

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Authors: E. N. Joy

BOOK: And You Call Yourself A Christian
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Chapter Seventeen
It was the day of her boys' funeral, and Unique had spent the entire day balled up and crying in her cell. She felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her when her attorney told her that she didn't get granted permission to attend the funeral.
“But why?” Unique had asked her attorney over the phone. The coward hadn't even had enough courage and respect to show up and tell her to her face.
“The system just feels that with the severity of the crime, and you being the one actually held responsible for their deaths, that it wouldn't be a good idea for—”
“That's bull crap!” is what Unique, being a Christian and all, should have said. Unfortunately, something else besides the word “crap” slipped out of her mouth. After going back and forth with the attorney, with even more expletives flying out of her mouth, she slammed the phone down and was escorted back to her cell where she'd been ever since.
Her cell mate, Kiki, had made it her business to stay outside of their cell as much as she could to give Unique time to mourn. Being alone with her thoughts probably wasn't what Unique needed at the time, but it's all that she had. Everyone she knew was off paying their last respects to her boys. Her boys!
Wails began to escape from Unique's mouth. Other inmates walked by, but none of them seemed to have any empathy as she heard them mumble things like, “Serves her right. What killer shows up at the person's funeral that they killed?” A couple sputtered off threats to do her bodily harm, while some inmates even spat in her direction as they walked by. Not only had the media pronounced Unique guilty before being proven otherwise, even other criminals were doing the same thing to her. She didn't care though. She knew the truth, and the truth was that all she wanted right now was to be with her sons, to see them one last time before they were put back into the earth from which they came.
“God, I know they were yours before they ever were mine,” Unique prayed. “But here on earth, you gave them to me, and I just wanted to be able to say good-bye. I just wanted to be able to say good-bye,” she cried.
Unique cried for the next two hours straight before falling asleep. When she woke, she could feel that it was late. The funeral and the burial were probably over by now. Lorain had told her that they were going to have the repast at New Day. More than likely, Lorain was still at the church. Korica's phone was off right now because she hadn't paid the bill, so she couldn't call her. So she thought of someone she hadn't even talked to yet, but that she was sure had gone to the funeral and could tell her all about it.
Mustering up enough energy to stand, Unique made her way to where the phones were. There were only two phones and what seemed like a gazillion people waiting in line to use them. Unique didn't feel like she had the energy to stand in line that long, but she had to. She had to see about her boys' homecoming.
Before Unique knew it, she was next in line to use the phone. She had no idea how long she'd been in line. There was no sense of time in that place. The woman who was in front of her finished up her call. That was Unique's sign that it was finally her turn.
“God, let her phone be on,” Unique pleaded as she dialed and requested the operator to put through the collect call. “And Jesus, don't let her have a block on her phone.” People were good for having the service on their phones that blocked collect calls. She hoped to God her sister wasn't one of those people.
All Unique's prayers were answered as her sister accepted the call. “Unique?” Renee answered once the call was put through.
“Yeah, Renee, it's me,” Unique replied. “I'm sorry I haven't called you before now. It's just been mad crazy.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. So how was, you know, how was the boys' homecoming?”
“It was beautiful. Lorain and that church of yours laid it out. It was like a picture from heaven. The dance ministry danced and some heavyset, dark-skinned woman sang her tail off.”
“Did she have dimples?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, that was probably Sister Paige.”
“She be with some white dude?”
“Yeah, it was Paige.”
“Well, Miss Thing can sing. And your pastor can preach to be a white woman, Lord have mercy. Like I said, it was beautiful. I heard they wouldn't let you come. That's jacked up, especially since they let your sorry baby daddy out of jail long enough to come.”
“Gerald? Gerald was there, at my boys' funeral? They let him out of jail to go and not me?” Unique was fuming.
“Guess he got him one of them street lawyers that got some pull, you know what I'm saying?”
“I can't believe that crap.” Unique, being a Christian, tried her best to be delivered from the cursing demon. Whew, there was something about those prison walls that were just pulling Unique slowly but surely back into some of her old ways. Man, oh, man, did she want a drink and a joint so bad right now she could taste it. She needed one or the other, or both, to calm her nerves.
“Yeah, I was surprised too. But don't worry, I checked his tail for you,” Renee told her little sister.
“What do you mean?”
“Mommy told me how he's the one who supposedly gave you that dope they found on you. I know it wasn't cool, but while he was standing at the casket viewing the body, I walked up next to him and asked him why he played you like that; since when is a bag of dope child support? I mean, I thought that was his way of trying to put you to work to make you go earn the money for child support, but that wasn't the case.”
“Why—how do you know that? What did he say?” Unique hadn't been able to correspond with her oldest son's father at all, so she had no idea why he'd given her that bag of dope from the freezer other than what her attorney had suspected. Unique didn't trust that coward, but her sister, she did trust.
“He said he thought he was handing you some loot. He must have grabbed the wrong bag. He feels real bad about it. He said he wanted to talk to you, but his attorney said that's not a good idea. Besides, I don't think they would let y'all talk anyway. They don't want y'all trying to get stories straight with each other and everything. He said he told his attorney, and his attorney supposedly told yours, but I don't how much good that's going to do you.”
“Yeah, me either, but at least I know the real now from the horse's mouth,” Unique said.
“Yeah, and like I said, he sounded sincere, so don't be too mad at him. On the other hand, I got a slight attitude with you.”
“Oh yeah? Well, so does 90 percent of the people up in here. So join the club.”
“No, but on the real, I been walking, taking the bus, and having to hitch rides to work. The police haven't released my car yet. I wish I'd never let you borrow it. Had I known you were going to drive it to a crack house I wouldn't have.”
Once again, Unique started to fume. “My boys are dead, and they didn't even let me out of this place to go to their funeral, and you're worried about your old, funky hooptie?”
Renee copped an instant attitude. “Oh, really now? Well, if it was so old and funky, why were you always borrowing it? If it was so old and funky, then maybe you shouldn't have borrowed it. How about that? Humph, then maybe I wouldn't be having to walk, catch the bus, and bum rides. Then just maybe your boys would still be alive!”
A rage rose up in Unique like never before. The heat surrounding her was so hot she could barely breathe. Never, ever had she called her sister out of her name, but the B-word slipped from her tongue so quick, there was nothing Unique could do to reel it back in.
“I know you did
not
just call me that,” Renee declared.
“You suppose to be my sister and you trippin' over your car being impounded and my boys are laid up in a casket dead. Really, Renee? Oh, trust me, I can think of some other names to call you.” And as Unique thought of those words, she allowed them too to spill from her tongue.
Renee shot the F-word at Unique, followed by the word “you,” and then slammed the phone down. But not before shooting the B-word back at her too.
“You stinking ... son of a ... black ...” Unique spat as she pounded the phone receiver against the hook.
“Hey, if you break that phone before I get a chance to use it, I'ma break your freakin' neck.” Of course, the word “freakin'” wasn't the actual word spit out by the inmate next in line behind Unique.
Unique was too fired up and hotheaded to even hear the threat, let alone take heed to it. She continued beating the hook with the receiver until finally someone grabbed her wrist.
“Cut it out! Are you crazy? You wanna mess with these broads' only means of communication to the outside world besides funky letters?” Shaking her head, Kiki, Unique's cell mate, added, “I don't think so.” Kiki made an attempt to remove the receiver from Unique's hand.
“No! I'm 'bout to call that ho back and cuss her out,” Unique yelled. She was so angry that tears fell from her eyes.
By now, a couple of guards were making their way toward Unique.
“Hey, it's okay. It's okay,” Kiki said, trying to keep them at bay. “Her kids' funeral was today, and they didn't let her out to go. Give her a break. I got this. For real, she's good.”
Convinced it was all good, the guards backed off.
Kiki yoked Unique up by her shirt and spoke through clenched teeth. “Calm down before you end up in solitary before you even go to trial. Then what is that gon' look like to the judge?”
“I don't care what things look like. I know people think my boys are dead because of me, but I didn't kill 'em. I didn't leave my boys for dead. Okay, so they found some dope on me; charge me for that, but don't charge me for the death of my boys,” Unique yelled as snot ran from her nose.
“Are you crazy?” Kiki couldn't believe what was coming out of Unique's mouth.
“You'd rather go to jail for the drug rap than the charges against your boys?” She chuckled. “You a single black woman who they think covering for your baby daddy who is supposed to be some big drug kingpin.” She chuckled again. “Girl, don't you know
that's
what you should be worrying about? If I were you, I'd rather go with the charges of killing my boys. Get the sympathy of the jury and you'll probably get less time.”
Unique was lost. There was no way what Kiki was saying was logical. “You mean I could spend less time in jail for killing my boys than for selling crack? No way.” Unique refused to believe a crack rock held more value than the life of a child.
“Hey, can you two go somewhere else and play Doctor Phil and Oprah? I need to make a call here,” the woman next in line shouted.
Kiki shot the woman a menacing glare, causing her to fall back a little. She then turned her attention back to Unique. “Humph, so you don't believe me, do you? Come here.” Kiki grabbed Unique by the arm and took her back to their cell. “Looky here.”
Kiki pulled her thin mattress up and newspapers were layered under it. She dug around until she could find the one she was looking for. Picking up a paper, she scanned it momentarily. “Yep, this is the one I was looking for.” She handed it to Unique. “Here, you take it and read that, then tell me what charge you're more willing to take.” She headed out of the cell. “Now, I gotta go get my place back in the phone line. My chick is waiting on my call.”
Unique looked down at the
Washington Post
newspaper Kiki had handed her. “How in the world did she get this?” She began to scan the article. The more she read, the more interesting it got; she got what Kiki had been trying to tell her. By the time she finished reading the article, she was convinced that she would rather admit to killing her boys than to selling drugs. She made up her mind what she was going to have to do.
Chapter Eighteen
“I must advise you as my client, that I feel what you want to do is not in your best interest,” the suited-up woman said to Unique as she sat across from her at the same table Unique had visited the attorney before her.
Unique's attorney nodded. The public defender that was initially assigned to her had been replaced by the woman sitting across from her. New Day had raised money to pay the retainer fee, but then after reading the case and talking to the former attorney, she decided the notoriety that would come from the case was worth more than anything they could have paid her. Besides that, and more important, she felt Unique was innocent, and that to some degree, she was a victim. Unique didn't care what the attorney's reasons were for taking over her case for no additional monies. She knew it was nothing but favor from God.
“Pleading guilty to causing the death of your boys could be the worst possible mistake you make in your life,” her attorney told her.
“No, ma'am,” Unique replied. “I think I've already made the worst possible mistake in my life when I left my boys in that car for what I thought was only going to be a couple of minutes.”
There was a brief silence. Unique had her attorney on that one.
“Anyway,” Unique continued, “the last attorney told me that the prosecuting attorney assigned to this case had already suggested the idea of a plea bargain. They said if I plead guilty to some charge, I can't remember what it was but it had something to do with indirectly causing the death of my boys, that they might possibly drop the drug charges.” Unique sounded adamant that her mind had already been made up.
“Unique, statements from some of the other defendants who were busted in that crack house, including your son's father, indicate that was pretty much your first time ever even stepping foot inside that house.” She flipped through the case file that the other attorney had turned over to her. “They all are saying the same thing; that you and ... Gerald were arguing about money—child support.”
“That's true. I told you that already. I've told everybody that already, but it doesn't seem to matter.” Unique sounded exasperated. “That's why I'm just ready to cop this plea and be done with it. I'm tired.”
Unique's lawyer got intense as she leaned in and looked Unique in the eyes. “From what you've told me, from what you've told the last attorney, your story has not wavered. What these other people are saying, even the woman who owns the house, most of them didn't even know you. I believe you, Unique. I believe your story. I believe that at the time, on that unimaginable day, you felt taking those boys inside the crack house was the worst of two evils. Your intentions were to go get what your son's father rightly owed you, and then get back to your boys as soon as possible. No mother in her worst nightmare could have foreseen such a horrific thing occurring. No mother!”
The attorney slammed her fist down, making Unique jump. She didn't know how much more of this table pounding her nerves could take.
“It sounds all good, but who's going to buy it? Who cares about the truth anymore? Certainly not the media.” Unique rolled her eyes and pouted her lips.
“Forget about the media.” Her attorney appeared to be thinking. “Let's work an angle that has always worked for me.”
“And what angle is that?” Unique leaned in with anticipation and curiosity.
“The truth,” her attorney said, plain and simple.
That was not what Unique wanted to hear. She thought her attorney was coming up with something much more creative than the truth. “I can't take that chance.”
“What chance are you talking about? I'm still not understanding why you're hell-bent on spending the rest of your life having people think you are responsible for the death of your children versus being a dope dealer.” Annoyance and confusion displayed itself on the attorney's face.
“Because of what I read in the
Washington Post
, that's why.” Now Unique banged her fist against the table. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em.
“
Washington Post?
This story made
Washington Post
news?”
Unique could see the attorney about to get all Hollywood on her. “No, not my case.” Unique rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth. “I read an article about the harsh penalties for crack cocaine that were introduced back in the '80s. I read that Congress approved the law back then to discourage all the crimes that were taking place as a result of the selling of crack. It said that if someone was caught with five grams of crack cocaine, they could get a mandatory minimum sentence of five years. That possession of fifty grams of crack got them ten years minimum. I mean, fifty grams, that's like what? The weight of a couple of pennies? Is that true?”
“Yes, those laws were specifically for crack cocaine, which is what was found in your possession. Had it been powder cocaine, then it would have been a different story,” her attorney told her. “But all that is going to start changing, hopefully, with the latest Fair Sentencing Act.”
“Yeah, I read about that too. That's the bill that eliminates a mandatory minimum sentence for simple possession. It said that an offender would have to be convicted of the possession of twenty-eight grams or more of crack for the five-year mandatory sentence and 208 grams or more for the ten-year prison term.”
Once again, Unique's attorney nodded. She smiled, impressed with Unique's research.
“So how much was in that bag I had?”
Her attorney's smile faded. “About thirty grams.”
“Oh, Jesus!” was all Unique could say. Nervousness took over as her hands began to tremble. “I'm hit. I'm done.” Sounding more desperate than she ever had in her life, and feeling more desperate too, she said to her attorney, “Get me a plea. I don't care what you, my mama, sisters, brothers, or anybody else in this world thinks. I'm not about to let them throw the book at me. No way, no how. Now I'm done talking. Come back and see me when there's a deal on the table.” Unique looked over her shoulder at the door with the window behind her. “Guard, this visit is over!” she shouted, stood up, and then walked over to the door.
Her attorney slammed the case file closed. “Okay, Ms. Gray, if you say so.” The attorney stood. “I'll go get to wheeling and dealing on your behalf just as soon as I leave here.” Sarcasm laced the attorney's voice as she gathered up her things and walked over to the door just as the guard opened it. Before exiting, the attorney stopped in front of Unique. “This is a first for me; a client doubtful of my abilities in the courtroom, forcing me to run out and make a deal with the devil.” She looked Unique up and down. “Oh ye of little faith.” She sucked her teeth and twisted up her lips. “And you call yourself a Christian.” On that note, the attorney exited the room.

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