Life After Wifey

by Kiki Swinson

  “Yeah, whatever,” he mumbled underneath his breath.

  As badly as I wanted to hit him across his head once again, I managed to restrain myself, knowing it was possible that he could jump up and knock the shit out of my ass at the drop of a dime. I did the next best thing and picked up the Dove from the soap dish and threw it at his ass. He tried to block it with his arms, but his reflexes were too slow. The soap popped him right across his forehead.

  “Owww!” he yelled from the impact and that’s when I stepped back out of the bathroom, smiling from ear to ear. “Try that shit again and see if I don’t go upside your muthafucking head!” Rage spread throughout his entire face.

  I ignored his idle threat and proceeded toward my bedroom to get dressed for work since I felt like I got my point across. Hopefully, for Keisha’s sake, she got the same message.

  15

  Orange Jumpsuits

  Syncere Speaks

  Two C.O.s pulled me and some other cats out of the block to escort us to court. After they put my handcuffs and shackles on, I wasn’t feeling how tight they had ’em on me so I had to let ‘em know.

  “Ay yo, C.O., can you loosen up these shackles a little bit? These joints is fucking my ankles up.”

  “You’re a big man. I’m sure you can handle it, Mr. Jones. It’s just a short walk to the courthouse,” replied this big, black, ugly-ass C.O. Niggas in his joint called him Tiny because he wasn’t nothing but a pussy, for real. But, I was gon’ be cool and let him throw his weight right now because this was his spot. But, I’d hit his ass up later if I ever ran into him on the streets. And he wasn’t gon’ see it coming.

  On the way to court, me and fifteen other niggas were all handcuffed and shackled together, walking in a line, playing Follow the Muthafucking Leader like we were in a fucking chain gang. The whole way there, we had to travel underground through a hollow-ass tunnel. The jail had it set up like that to keep niggas like us from escaping. Not only that, they wanted us to avoid the public at all costs. I just hoped I wouldn’t have to make the trip down this road again after today, but I guess I’d just have to wait and see what the judge said.

  Before court started they stuffed all our asses in this little-ass cell with one short, rusty-ass bench, so I took a seat on the floor next to the iron bars. A couple of niggas in here knew me or at least heard about me from the streets, so word got around real fast that I was nothing to play with.

  “What’s good?” This young’un, who kind of looked familiar, asked me. When he finally came face to face with me, I realized I had seen him at the car wash a few times. I stood up and gave him a proper handshake.

  “Damn nigga, whatcha doing in here?” I asked him.

  “On a fucking dope charge. The mu’fucking narcs ran up in my girl’s crib where I keep my shit at and since I was the only person there, I had to wear the charge.”

  “That’s fucked up! What’s your name again?” I asked him.

  “DeShawn, but everybody calls me Dee.”

  “Damn, Dee, how much did they catch you with?”

  “A couple of rocked-up o.z.s.”

  “Did they pull a burner off of you too?”

  “Nah, just the rock. So, I should be good when I go out there and ask the judge for a bond reduction.”

  “How much is your bond now?”

  “Twenty-five grand.”

  “Damn nigga, you can’t post that? Shit, all you need is ten percent.”

  “I got the dough, but my girl can’t get a bondsman to pick it up. They trying to get her to give them collateral plus some money and we ain’t got no collateral. That’s why I’mma ’ ask the judge to lower my shit down to at least fifteen.”

  “Well shiiid, at least you got a bond. That stupid-ass cracker in the Magistrate’s Office told me he wasn’t giving me shit, talking about I’m a flight risk ‘cause I’m from Jersey.”

  “You got a lawyer?” He asked me.

  “Nah, but since my charge is a felony, they’ve got to give me a court-appointed attorney, right?”

  “Oh yeah, they gon’ definitely do that. Shit, all of us in here will probably get appointed the same state lawyer.”

  “I don’t give a fuck what they do, just as long as I can get that lawyer to ask the judge to grant me a bail this morning.”

  “Oh, you’ll be a’ight. Just tell the lawyer you got a job working at the car wash.”

  “Nigga, I run that joint,” I commented in a cocky manner.

  “I know that! But don’t tell none of these judges that, especially if you go in front of Judge Brown. That mu’fucka is crazy! He locks niggas up and give them ridiculous time for petty shit.”

  “Well, I’m definitely not trying to see him for this gun charge.”

  “You better keep your fingers crossed because it ain’t nothing but two judges in this section and Judge Brown is one of them. What happens is, both judges will pick a file out of a box and call our asses at random, depending on how big their case load is. Once you go in front of the judge you see today, that will be the same judge you see until your case is over.”

  Before I could respond to Dee’s comment, another C.O. called my name and told me to step out of the cell. Dee wished me luck as I walked in the direction of a side door with a sign taped to it that read, ‘Quiet Please! Court In Session.’ I entered into the courtroom with the C.O. walking by my side. I looked around the whole room to see if Nikki was there to give me her support and boom, there she was, sitting in the second row with a sad look on her face. I smiled at her which made her smile back.

  The C.O. positioned me in the designated area for inmates and I found myself standing smack dead in front of the judge with his nameplate in clear view. The name on it read Judge L. Brown and I knew my chances for getting a bail were slim to none.

  “Your Honor, this is case # 0971-702, The Commonwealth of Virginia vs. Antonio Jones.” The courtroom clerk, a little, old, white lady who looked to be every bit of seventy years old announced my charges. “Mr. Jones has been charged with possession of a firearm, reckless driving, and evading the police. He is also being held without bail as he’s considered a flight risk.” She handed Judge Brown the file. The judge took the folder from the clerk’s hand, looked directly in my face, and asked if needed to appoint me a lawyer or if I would be able to get one on my own.

  “I would prefer to hire one on my own attorney, Your Honor. But right now, I was hoping I could get a bond hearing.”

  “Get yourself an attorney first and then you can have him or her petition the Clerk’s Office for a bond hearing. I’m going to set your next court date for Tuesday, July 18 at ten a.m. Do you have any questions?”

  “No, sir,” I replied and allowed the C.O. to escort me back out of the courtroom. I refused to looking in Nikki’s direction for fear I would see her crying, so I held my head down the entire trip back to the cell.

  16

  Ride Or Die Chick

  Nikki Speaks

  After Syncere was taken back out of the courtroom with no damned bail the only option left for me to do was to get up and leave. I hopped into my car and headed toward Highway 264. While I was on the road I made two calls from my cell. One was to Rhonda to let her know I would be in the shop right after I made a quick stop by my P.O.’s office. She said okay. And my second call was to Quincy and boy, did he have a lot to say.

  “I just left the court,” I told him.

  “What happened? Did he get a bond?”

  “Hell no! The judge didn’t give him shit! Today was just the arraignment process to determine whether or not he would be able to hire himself a lawyer.”

  “Did he get to see you?”

  “Yes, he saw me. I was sitting in the second row.”

  “So, what are you going to do now?”

  “I am going to hire him an attorney so he can get a bond hearing.”

  “Do you know who you’re going to call?”

  “Yeah, he told me to contact this lawyer name Taliaferro
.”

  “Oh yeah, I’ve heard he was crucial. But, if he ain’t available, you should holler at this cat name Broccoletti. I heard he was vicious in the courtroom. You can always catch him having lunch with judges, so you know he’s got plenty of clout.”

  “Do you know where Broccoletti’s office is?”

  “Nah, but, I heard it’s somewhere in Norfolk. Just look him up in the phone book.”

  “How long are you going to be at the car wash?”

  “I’mma be here all day because I know your man is going to be giving me a call sometime soon.”

  “A’ight. Do me a favor.”

  “What’s up?”

  “When he does call you, tell him I’m at work but I’m going to be getting off early so I can meet with a few lawyers.”

  “A’ight! Call me later and let me know what the lawyers say and how much they gon’ charge you to pick up his case.”

  “Okay, I will,” I assured him and then we both hung up.

  The waiting area of the probation office wasn’t crowded so I was able to get a seat without any problems after I checked in with the receptionist. Sitting two seats over from me was this dark-skinned cutie with a low Caesar and dark side burns. He looked like he was every bit of thirty-two or thirty-three years old with a well-maintained mustache and a work uniform. I could see every letter on his name tag from my position and it spelled out the name SETH. I wasalso able to make out the company’s logo and realized that he had a gig with a Nissan dealership. Judging from the wear and tear on his uniform, he probably worked in the service department because a company like that wasn’t about to let a convicted felon work anywhere else under their umbrella. You know, his paycheck would never exceed the required amount of revenue to live comfortably in this day and time, which was going to have homeboy right back on the grind. And that quick hustle was going to buy him another trip back into the federal system. Then again, I could be wrong. They said never judge a book by its cover and for all I knew, this cat could be one of those reformed ex-cons who just got out of the joint from doing a fifteen-year stretch. Most niggas who done did all that time truly had enough of living with other niggas so they was gon’ do everything they could to sleep next to some pussy every night, unless they preferred the former.

  There was also another guy waiting around to see his P.O. He was an average-looking cat but he sure had the attention of this chick sitting across from him. She was one of your average-looking chicken heads with a head full of cornrows like she just stepped out of the joint less than twenty-four hours ago. She reminded me of Rosie Perez, but without the thick Hispanic accent. Speaking of which, her conversation was on zero and homeboy used it to his advantage.

  “How long you been home?” I heard him ask her.

  “Almost a month now,” she replied.

  “You got kids?”

  “Yep, I got three.”

  “How old are they?”

  “My daughter Sara is seven and my twin boys, Juan and Antonio, are four.”

  “Who had them when you was away?”

  “They was living wit’ my sister.”

  “Do you have them wit’ you now?”

  “Yeah, I guess you can say that since I’m living at my sister’s house too.”

  “So, when you gon’ let me come see you?”

  “Whenever you want to.”

  “Do you have your own bedroom?”

  “No, unfortunately, me and my kids all sleep in the same room.”

  “So, where would me and you chill at if I was to come by there?”

  “We could chill in the living room and watch TV, unless you want to take me out to a restaurant.”

  “I don’t like going out to eat. Restaurant food ain’t good for you. I’d rather have some of your home cooking.”

  “I can’t cook. But my sister can.”

  “I need to be trying to holler at your sister then,” I heard him utter under his breath.

  “Whatcha say?” she asked and it was obvious she hadn’t heard what he had said.

  “I didn’t say nothing,” he told her and before I heard her reply, I heard my name being called.

  When I looked up, my P.O., Maxine Shaw was standing a few feet away from me. She was wearing a fly–ass, dark blue, two-piece pants suit with a pair of three-inch heels to match. She was not your typical sister. ThisBlack chick was a beast. She was a smart and witty-ass lady plus she had the mentality that everybody had some kind of bullshit game up their sleeve. I’d done nothing but try to convince her otherwise, even though sometimes my tactics didn’t work. Being affiliated with Kira’s murder hadn’t given me much favor with her either. As a matter of fact she’d been trying to ride my ass behind the police investigation more than the police themselves. So, I knew today’s visit wasn’t going to be any different from the last one.

  “How is your family?” she asked the moment she closed her office door.

  “Everybody’s fine,” I replied and took a seat in the chair placed in front of her desk.

  “Are you still working at the hair salon?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Have you turned in your monthly report for this month yet?”

  “Yes, I left it at the front desk with the receptionist.”

  “How is the murder investigation going?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “What do you mean, you’re not sure?”

  “Well, I haven’t heard anything.”

  “Has anyone in your family tried contacting the detectives who are conducting the investigation?”

  “Yes, my grandmother and my dad have spoken with them a few times. But, all they keep saying is that when they have something concrete they will let us know.”

  “Have they tried to interview you since the last time?”

  “No.”

  “Have you heard any buzz on the streets about who could have been responsible for her murder?”

  “Nope, not a word.”

  “Well, what about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “How are you holding up?”

  “Better than the day before but I still have my moments.”

  “I’m sure. So, is there anything new going on in your life?”

  “No, everything is pretty much the same,” I lied

  “Have you come in contact with any convicted felons?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Have you traveled outside the district without permission?

  “No.”

  “Are you still living alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you possess or have access to a firearm?”

  “No.”

  “Have you been questioned by any law enforcement officers, other than the two detectives investigating your cousin’s murder?”

  “No.”

  “Have you possessed any illegal drugs since our last visit?”

  “No, I’m not that crazy!”

  “Keep that same attitude and you’ll stay on the streets.”

  “Believe me, I will.”

  “Good. Now, do you have any questions for me?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Okay, this concludes our visit. Before you go, you’ll need to give me a urine sample.”

  “Okay, no problem,” I told her and then I stood to follow her to the restroom. And even though squatting over a toilet to piss in a plastic cup in front of another woman put me in a very awkward position, I was learning to find a way to live with it. Hey, what could I say? Shit like that would continue to happen as long as my ass was on paper.

  Later on that night, while I was watching a movie I rented from Blockbuster, Syncere called. After his name played back from the record message, I pressed “0” and the call was connected.

  “What’s good, Nikki?”

  “Nothing, what’s up wit’ you?” I asked after I turned the volume down on the TV.

  “I’m just chilling. Waiting for y’all to get me a lawyer so I can get the hell
outta here.”

  “Trust me, I’m working on it.”

  “You seen Q?”

  “No, not today.”

  “Did you talk to him?”

  “Briefly, why?”

  “Because I’ve been trying to holler at him all day and he ain’t been up at the spot.”

  “Want me to call him on three-way?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Go ‘head,” he insisted.

  “All right.” I clicked over to the other line.

  When I clicked back over, Syncere was blowing through the phone really loud, trying to mask the fact that I was attempting to connect him to a three-way call. If the jail’s phone system detected it, they would disconnect our call immediately and block future calls. It was crazy how they got that shit rigged but what could you do?

  “Syncere, I got Q. on the phone,” I told him.

  “Ay yo, what’s up dawg?” Quincy asked him.

  “I’m a’ight, Q. What’s up wit’ you?” .

  “I’m just taking care of business. Why? What’s up?”

  “Did you holler at your peoples yet?”

  “Yeah. I talked to ‘em right after you left the car wash that day.”

  “What he talking about?”

  “He said he’s gon’ take care of it,” Quincy replied convincingly.

  “So, when you gon’ see ‘em again?”

  “I was gon’ wait until you touched down first before I head back up there.”

  “So, he said he’s gon’ replace the whole joint?” Syncere questioned Quincy like he didn’t believe him.

  “Man, I don’t know. But, I do know that he’s gon’ look out real decent.”

  “How long you been up at the car wash?”

  “I was here earlier this morning but I dipped out for a few so I could take care of some business.”

  “Everything a’ight?”

  Quincy sighed heavily and said, “Yeah, everything’s cool. Just gotta clip a couple fingers before shit gets out of hand.”

  “Who ripping us off?”

  “I’ll tell you about it when you get out.”

  “Which spot is it?”

  “The one you left right before you got bagged up.”

  “Oh nah, they ain’t carrying it like that, is they?”