by Tysha
“It’s going to be another hot one today,” said Commissioner Martin.
“Yes, sir, it looks like it,” responded Roberts in a cracked voice.
“I wasn’t talking to you. It was just an utterance on my part, so shut up,” the Commissioner spoke without looking at his subordinate.
Roberts shifted in his seat, offended, but he kept his mouth shut. He swallowed another gulp of his now lukewarm coffee and waited for the pat on the back he believed was coming.
“Detective Roberts, thanks to you the city is in an uproar and the mayor has his steel toe right in the crack of my ass. To top that off, there was a message from the governor’s office waiting for me yesterday morning. Would you like to tell me just what in the hell went wrong executing the warrant on McGee?”
Roberts let three seconds pass before responding to be certain Commissioner Martin was finished with his question.
“Well, sir, a rookie went to handcuff our suspect when McGee suddenly jumped at him. To protect my fellow brother, I gave him two taps of my side arm and he dropped.” Roberts’s response was matter-of-fact and emotionless.
“Bullshit! No man, drug dealer or not, would risk his life in the presence of his own son, especially not with sixteen firearms pointed at his ass,” barked Commissioner Martin. He walked behind his desk and sat across from Roberts. “Now, I do not want the story you feed Internal Affairs.” He paused briefly for effect before continuing, “I want the truth and nothing but the damn truth.”
The angry tone of his superior stunned Roberts. The meeting was far left of where Roberts believed it would be.
“If I may speak,” began Roberts. “Melvin McGee was a lowlife drug dealer with a natural appetite for money, power, and street credibility. I watched him choke the life out of a man with his bare hands and I cannot believe this case is getting national attention. The entire situation is a travesty and Youngstown is better off with McGee six feet under.”
“You shot the man dead, Roberts, right before his ten-year-old son. What did you think would happen? Were you expecting a commendation from the mayor?” Commissioner Martin sarcastically asked.
“It was unfortunate that the boy was home but, damn, he’ll work that shit out in counseling,” spat Roberts. He had not meant to say it aloud but once the words left his lips, there was no forcing them back. Roberts would be damned if he apologized for doing nothing wrong.
“Are you serious?” hollered Commissioner Martin with a pound of his fist on the desk. “Are you serious? You’re sitting there, lying to me in my face; are you kidding me?”
Roberts swallowed hard and tried the best he could to keep control of his anger. Roberts could not understand why he was being treated like a common criminal.
“I’m lost, sir. What am I lying to you about?” Roberts sat more perplexed than ever.
Instead of getting a sore throat, Commissioner Martin aimed the remote at the flat screen television. Roberts followed the Commisioner’s eyes and focused on the screen. It did not take long for Roberts to recognize the people, the place, and the incident replaying for him. Oh, shit! How in the hell did the department get their hands on this? I am fucked.
Only five minutes had gone by but it felt like forever to Roberts. There he was, standing by, doing nothing when Melvin McGee snubbed the life out of Silk. Roberts knew he should have intervened and arrested McGee the minute he wrapped his hands around Silk’s neck. Roberts knew he had more than probable cause at that point but he had become just as addicted to the money and power as his mark had. When the time came for Roberts to arrest Melvin, he wanted lights, cameras, and plenty of action.
“Sir, I can—” began Roberts.
Commissioner Martin raised his right palm and spewed an order at Roberts, “Shut up!” His eyes remained fixed on the television.
Roberts returned his attention to the screen and dropped the paper coffee cup he had been holding. His eyes bugged from their sockets and for the first time since his wife packed up and took off with their three children. Roberts wanted to cry. He now understood why the Commissioner, Mayor, and probably every living soul in the city wanted his head on a stick.
McGee had hidden cameras inside his cars, in each one of his drug houses, and anywhere he conducted business. Meeting Silk in the empty parking lot was no coincidence; McGee knew what he was doing when he scheduled the meeting there. The initial meeting between Roberts and McGee now played on the clear flat screen.
Roberts was on tape doing drugs and pocketing some of the drug money the department fronted him for stings.
Undercover officers were expected to melt into the melting pot of drugs and money but only to a point. No one is ever given a free ride for taking the life of another human being. With all of the police-related killings in the news lately, McGee’s action threw the steel mill city into the national limelight. Killing a man in front of his son was a horrible mistake. Roberts had been undercover for so long, he’d begun to feel untouchable.
“From my view, it looks as if you provoked McGee to make a move. You have kids and you know damn well you would lay down your life for them,” said irritated Commisioner Martin.
Roberts clinched his jaw at the mention of his children. It had been almost six years since he last saw them. He did not know how Brenda pulled it off, but it seemed as though his wife had disappeared off the face of the earth.
“Sir, you know I had to do certain things in order to protect my identity. McGee had the power to make me disappear if he ever discovered I was a cop. Everything you saw on that tape was unavoidable. We had to get McGee off the streets,” said Roberts angrily.
Commissioner Martin aimed the remote at the screen and pushed play. There, in high definition, appeared Roberts at home alone snorting cocaine and drinking. The edited tape showed him stepping over the line from undercover officer to common criminal. Roberts sat speechless as his life played out before him.
“Detective, you became an accessory to murder when you stood by and did nothing to help the snitch you put in harm’s way. You not only stole money from the department, you’re a drug addict. Did you see all of the coke you were snorting up your nose? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Again, sir, I was undercover. I had to get deep into McGee’s operation in order to bring him down. Thanks to me, one of the city’s biggest drug dealers is permanently off the streets. With just a little more time, I could’ve discovered the identity of his partner.”
“There is no way for you to double talk your way out of this, Roberts. You killed your career the exact moment you pulled that trigger on an unarmed man. This video can give the district attorney’s office more than enough ammunition to charge you with this man’s homicide. Detective Roberts, as far as the department is concerned, you are nothing more than a drug-dealing addict with a trigger-happy finger. You are hereby relieved of your duties. Please, turn in your badge and weapon,” Commissioner Martin sternly ordered. He was furious with the insubordinate detective. The department had been on notice for years of Roberts taking the law into his own hands. Roberts had been involved in four shootings during the past eight years. His psychological exams had alerted to trouble ahead but the department chose to overlook each instance. Being a trigger happy, gun totting hot-head translated into career ambition until it went terribly wrong. It was an election year and the mayor couldn’t afford to have a scandal ruin his chances for re-election. Roberts had to go, immediately.
Roberts stood on his weak legs, placed his badge and gun on the desk, and turned to leave the office with his head hung low and tail tucked between his legs.
Damn, what am I going to do now? Roberts asked himself. What am I going to do?
Part 2:
Calm Before the Storm
Chapter 9
High School Years—This Is Who I Am . . . Right?
Jayden stood in line with the other fifth-period lunch students who were paying the short, white-haired lady manning the cash register. He could only hope
the forty-year school employee, was off her game. For the third day in a row, Jayden had forgotten to turn in his free or reduced lunch application and would be forced to use a number assigned to an absent classmate. He and every student at South High School knew what fate awaited them if lunch lady Betty was in true form.
Standing just over six foot tall with smooth skin, slanted hazel eyes, and broad shoulders, Jayden’s quiet spirit always drew attention, but he was no match for the petite, seventy-something lunch lady.
“Number please,” stated Betty while eyeing the food on the brown lunch tray.
“Twenty-one twelve,” replied Jayden. He held his breath in fear of Betty’s response. Betty gave no indication that she knew the lunch number Jayden had given her wasn’t his. Relieved, Jayden grabbed the tray and walked off toward his regular lunch table where his cousin Quincy was seated.
As usual, the cheese pizza was lukewarm, the kernel corn was cold, and the two peanut butter cookies were golden brown. After being joined by Quincy’s girlfriend, Caron Jefferson, the group sat, comparing grades received on their honors English writing assignment Miss Stevens had just given back.
“She gave us all a B, as usual,” said Caron.
“Not all,” corrected Jayden, “because I got an A.” Jayden opened his milk and drew it up to his lips when the room grew silent.
“That’s not your number!” screamed lunch lady Betty.
Caught! Jayden’s nightmare had come true. A wrinkled, pale hand reached over his left shoulder and snatched the lunch tray from in front of him. Betty was notorious for calling out those who attempted to deceive her by using another student’s lunch number. Today, Jayden Prince McGee, high school senior, was added to her list. No one could ever figure out how Betty was able to memorize the lunch numbers of over 800 students each and every school year. Most students heard stories about the little old lady from their parents and never believed the tales, until they entered South High School and witnessed Betty in action for themselves.
Betty turned on her heels and quickly returned to her station. The lunchroom erupted with laughter as Jayden sat embarrassed and hungry. As quickly as it happened, it was over.
“Man, you got played.” Q began clowning his cousin and best friend. Jayden had to laugh at his own outing. He knew sooner or later his time would come, especially since the students were not allowed to leave school premises during their lunch hour. The old days of Red Barn hamburgers and Sammy Quick Stop subs for lunch were over before most of the current high school students had even been born.
Before the lunch bell rang, Jayden had searched the crowded hallways for his twin brother, Prince. He wanted to ask him for a couple of dollars for lunch to avoid the situation he now found himself in, but Jayden had no luck locating Prince. Knowing his brother, Prince had probably skipped school in search of the almighty dollar or was laid up someplace with one of the women so eager to get with him.
Jayden and Prince were identical twins physically but their personality traits were like night and day. Where Jayden was responsible, goal oriented, and shy, Prince was restless, impulsive, and outgoing. Jayden loved to read books and play basketball, and worked out daily. Prince’s hobbies included hanging out with his friends, making fast money, and sleeping with as many girls as he possibly could. The only thing the twins seemed to have in common was the love they shared for their mother and baby sister, Lilac Princess. Though they did it in different ways, Prince and Jayden both took care of their mother and sister. As with most siblings, looking out for each other was an unspoken rule, even more so with identical twins.
As always, Jayden stood at the bottom of the school stairs, waiting for his girlfriend, Brianna. Being dedicated to sports, weight training, and studies didn’t leave room for much free time, so Jayden made sure he spent at least a few minutes each day with his first love.
“Hey sexy, are you looking for me?” Jayden flirted.
“Boo, you know I am,” replied Brianna.
The young couple held hands and walked out the front doors together. After school, Jayden always walked Brianna halfway home before turning around and running back to the school’s field house for sports conditioning.
“So how was honors English today?” asked Jayden.
“It was cool. I got an A on that assignment and a B on a pop quiz this morning,” said Brianna. Her bright smile always made Jayden feel special to be with her. Unlike Jayden, Brianna was brought up in a two-parent, middle-class family. Their family history and upbringing were the only differences the two had. Jayden and Brianna loved learning and had goals for their future. The number one goal was to leave the poverty-stricken city as soon as possible. Brianna was one year behind Jayden in school, but if fate would have it, they both planned to attend college in Atlanta. Jayden planned on attending Morehouse College and Brianna was set on attending Spelman College. They were both planning on majoring in English with minors in business management. Their dream was to one day own a successful book and music publishing company.
Jayden and Brianna walked hand in hand toward the corner of Dewey Avenue and Market Street as they discussed their day.
“Do you think we can catch a movie this weekend? We can rent one if you have a couple of hours to spend with me,” Brianna said innocently.
“We have a double session of conditioning on Saturday, but if your mom will let me come over after nine, we can rent movies. I mean, you know I love your mom and all but she be cutting into my ‘fill you up’ time the way she be popping in and out the room. It seems like she don’t trust me,” said Jayden snidely.
“You know she loves you.” Brianna laughed. “She just thinks you’re out to steal my heart and get in between my legs.”
“No, I’m not even like that.” Jayden smiled. “I’m trying to get up in your tight, virgin coochie.”
“Boo, you are so bad. Come here and give me my kiss.”
Brianna grabbed Jayden around his waist and pulled him close to her. She stood eight inches shorter than Jayden and always stood on her tiptoes to meet his full lips for their daily French kiss good-bye. Moments later, Jayden began his five-block jog back toward the home of the Warriors. Jayden was less than a block from his destination when he saw a crowd of boys and instantly knew something was wrong with his brother.
Damn, Prince, not today. I don’t need this today. Their entire lives, a shiver up his spine meant his twin brother was involved in something he had no business being in. It is said that identical twins experience some type of phenomenal experience whenever one encounters pain or danger. This was true with Prince and Jayden.
Jayden ran toward the crowd just in time to see his brother being handcuffed and thrown in the back of a police cruiser.
“What did he do? Prince, what is going on?” yelled Jayden over the ruckus.
Prince could only look at his mirror image through the raised car window and shake his head. Jayden didn’t know if he should be angry at Prince or at the unfair prejudices of the world in which they lived. He had no idea what had gotten his brother arrested, but Jayden could guess it had something to do with their shiesty god brother, Raequan.
One of the boys Prince was with stepped to Jayden to provide a brief explanation of what had happened. “Hey, man, your brotha ain’t done anything wrong. These racist-ass cops just don’t wanna listen,” explained T-Lee. “Prince and Raequan been chilling’ wit’ us all day and you know how we do. These cops are just mad that the average street hustler make more in one week than they do all year.” T-Lee took a long drag off his Newport and pointed to the second police car parked beside a closed-down storefront. Raequan was sitting in the back seat with a stupid smile on his face.
Raequan Lamar Jackson was Prince’s best friend and partner in crime. The boys were raised together because their mothers were best friends. At the early age of eighteen, Raequan had already served three different stints in juvenile, and Jayden was surprised he hadn’t graduated to the big house yet. Though his crimes were
petty, Raequan could be dangerous and Jayden hated the relationship Prince had with him.
“What are they arresting him for?” a shocked Jayden inquired.
“Man, some lady rolled up on us while we were chilling at the sub shop and accused him of stealing her car. So you know Prince and that mouth of his. He started cussing da bitch out.” T-Lee paused to toke on his Newport before continuing. “So, she whips out her cell phone and calls the police and here we are.”
“How can they just arrest him based on her word? I mean, look around at all of us; everybody dressed in jeans and a white tee, half with braids and half fades. Hell, we all look alike out here. Our own mommas probably couldn’t positively identify us.”
“I know, man, but you know how it is. Young black males look suspicious to everybody, especially if more than two are chilling together.” Unsure of how he would react, T-Lee purposely withheld some information from Jayden. He knew for a fact that Prince was with Raequan and they’d taken a ride in the lady’s car. T-Lee knew that was enough for Prince to catch a charge.
Jayden gave T-Lee the universal black man handshake and returned his attention to his brother. How am I going to tell Mom this? Her heart is going to break, thought Jayden. As he stood on the sidewalk, looking at his other half. Jayden wished he could protect Prince from all harm and danger. Jayden knew that Prince acted hard and talked a good game, but deep inside were immeasurable amounts of pain, resentment, and anger. It was that pain that made Prince Jayden McGee a menace to society.
Prince sat in the back seat of the police cruiser with his head hung low and his heart beating fast. He’d been placed in a cop car before. The police always harassed him for petty things but nothing that would result in him being taken downtown, processed, and held behind bars. After a call to his mother, Prince was always released to her custody and sent on his merry way. Prince knew that this time was different and he would soon be checking into juvenile detention center for an extended stay. He could feel his heart pounding in his head as beads of sweat formed on his forehead. I really fucked up this time. I knew I should have listened to that voice in my head instead of going along with Raequan. They didn’t even need the money so mugging that lady was stupid, especially after stealing that car and selling it to that chop shop. Fuck!
