Still Candy Shopping

by Swinson, Kiki

  “This bitch had a baggie with heroin residue right in her closet inside of an old newspaper delivery bag!” the detective told the other cops and detectives who had rushed to the scene. “She let her baby ingest heroin and die. I have no sympathy for a piece of shit mother like her. She is going under the jail.”

  They all started mumbling and grumbling about Celeste. They were all seething mad. They all wanted to see Celeste go down for killing her baby.

  Celeste had been inside of the interrogation room at the precinct for hours. She had dozed in and out of sleep so many times she didn’t even realize that an entire day had changed. Every time she closed her eyes for longer than a few minutes, she saw Keon’s face and she could even hear him crying and trying to talk. She winced at the thought. Her back ached from sitting on the hard chair. She had walked around the room, sat down, laid on the table and stretched out on the floor all in attempts to get comfortable. A uniformed cop finally came into the room and Celeste stood up, her eyes stretched wide.

  “Why are ya’ll holding me here? I should be free to go. I have to plan my son’s funeral! I lost my baby and ya’ll treating me as if I’m a criminal. This is ridiculous,” Celeste rambled, flailing her arms in protest.

  Suddenly, Celeste noticed the two detectives that had taken her from her home step from behind the uniformed officer. Her eyes grew wide. She looked from the detectives to the uniformed cop and back again. “What is going on?” she asked, her voice edging on frantic.

  “Ms. Early, you are under arrest for the death of your baby. You will be charged formally at your arraignment,” the detective who played bad cop started. “Cuff her and take her for processing,” the detective told the uniformed officer.

  “Wait! What are ya’ll talkin’ about? What are ya’ll tryin’ to do to me?” Celeste screamed at the top of her lungs as the uniformed officer laid hands on her and started manhandling her to put the handcuffs on her. “Help me!” she cried. Celeste was moving around and making it hard for the cop to get the cuffs on her.

  “You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you . . .” the detective continued, unfazed by Celeste’s screams and cries.

  “Where is my other son? I wanna see my son! I need a lawyer!” Celeste hollered as she continued to fight against the handcuffs. She was dragged kicking and screaming to a cell inside the precinct’s detective squad room.

  “When you get to central booking, you will see a judge for arraignment and then you will be given a public defender if you can’t afford a lawyer,” the uniformed cop told Celeste. Celeste couldn’t stop screaming and crying. It was as if she was living in the nightmare from hell.

  Ben was asleep on the hard table in the same room with the double-sided mirror. He was startled awake by the door opening.

  “Let’s go boy,” the bad detective demanded.

  Ben rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stretched his arms out in front of him. “I can go home?” Ben asked.

  “Nope. You’re on your way to a group home. You are officially without a guardian,” the smart mouth detective said snidely.

  “What?” Ben asked, his voice low. He was afraid of what the answer was going to be.

  “Well, you can’t go back home alone. You’re not old enough to be on your own. Your mother has been arrested and formally charged with the death of your baby brother,” the detective informed Ben.

  “She didn’t kill nobody! She loved him!!” Ben cried out, jumping up like he wanted to fight the detective. His heart was beating unbelievably fast. He felt like he’d have a heart attack. A hot feeling of shame came over him. This is all my fault. I should’ve just told the truth. This is all my fault. The thoughts cried inside of his head.

  “Sit the fuck down boy!” the detective snapped back. “Your mother lied to you and everybody else. She had drugs in the house and we found them!” The detective thought he was dropping a bomb on Ben.

  Ben tried to swallow the tennis-ball sized lump of fear that had formed in the back of his throat. He started scanning his mind. He knew he had thrown out all of the evidence anytime he had stashed and bagged heroin in the house. He couldn’t think. His mind was racing. He started sweating and his stomach began cramping again. Ben knew his mother was innocent, but if he confessed that the drugs were his, he knew the cops would be asking him who supplied him with the drugs. Ben couldn’t afford to snitch on Deezo or Quan. He would surely be dead if he did.

  Ben thought hard about confessing and then asking the cops to put him in the witness protection program he had seen on TV shows. He quickly dismissed that idea. He didn’t trust the police at all. Messing with the cops, he knew Celeste would be losing another child.

  “Where ya’ll taking me?” Ben asked one of the detectives.

  “To the group home in East New York,” the detective told him.

  Ben felt slightly relieved he wasn’t going to be in Brownsville in his own neighborhood. But the relief he felt was short-lived. He started thinking about some things Deezo had once told him during one of their conversations.

  “I got peeps everywhere . . . all over Brooklyn. I know so many people, I’m like the mayor of the city, so if you ever think about crossing me and getting away with it, your ass better leave Brooklyn. Nah, better yet, you better leave New York all together,” Deezo had said to Ben.

  He felt he wouldn’t be able to stay anywhere without somebody knowing Deezo. A fact that made Ben very uneasy.

  He was dropped off and signed in at the Cleveland Street home for boys. Ben didn’t plan on staying at the group home. He had cash on him and he planned on running far away from the group home as soon as the cops left.

  He was signed in by a black female counselor who introduced herself at Ms. Tori. She was a nice looking lady with wide hips and a nice ass. Ben followed her on a short tour of the facility, but he wasn’t really interested since he didn’t plan on staying there.

  “These are the dorms,” Ms. Tori explained. “You will be in what we call the new entrant dorms. This is where you will stay until we can process you and see which other rooms would suit you best. If you behave well you will move out of this dorm quickly. If you don’t you might stay a very long time and never have a semi-private room.”

  She led him inside of a large room with five sets of bunk beds and about eight other boys sitting around in various stages of recreation. Some were playing handheld game systems, some were listening to iPods and some were just sitting around looking miserable.

  Ben put on his best mean mug on his face to send a message to the other boys that he was not to be fucked with. He sat down on the bed he had been assigned. He didn’t have shit to unpack so Ben just sat down and looked around.

  “Whatchu lookin’ at nigga?” a short, fat boy immediately barked at Ben.

  Here we go. I knew somebody would start something, Ben thought to himself as he looked at the stupid boy. He didn’t answer the boy or even knowledge him. He wasn’t there for that.

  “Ohhh, he ignored your ass Pudge,” some of other boys instigated.

  The fat boy walked over to Ben and got in his face. “You new here and I don’t like you,” the boy they called Pudge gritted at Ben.

  Ben stood up and faced Pudge nose-to-nose. He thought about what Ms. Tori had said about behavior and the possibility of getting a semi-private room, then he thought about the fact that he planned on running away from the home anyway. This nigga don’t know me, Ben thought to himself.

  “What pussy? What’chu gon’ do? Pudge taunted some more.

  Ben just hauled off and punched the so-called menace in the nose. Nobody saw it coming because Ben was quiet and calm.

  “Ohhhh shit!” the crowd of boys sang out.

  Pudge fell back, holding his nose. Nobody had been brave enough to stand up to the three-hundred pound bully before Ben got there. The sounds coming from the new entrant room reverberated down the home’s hallways. Three counselors, including Ms. Tori, rushed into the
room and grabbed Ben.

  “There is no fighting in this facility. I guess you won’t be moving from this room anytime soon Mr. Early!” Ms. Tori screamed at Ben.

  “Get the fuck off me!” Ben growled at her. His adrenaline was pumping and he was ready for whoever was next.

  Ben was given a citation on his first night in the home. That meant the next day he wasn’t able to leave for any recreational activities when the other boys left. That suited Ben just fine. He just wanted to be left alone. He figured as soon as they stopped monitoring his every step, he would make his great escape.

  Celeste was arraigned and formally charged with possession of an illicit controlled substance with the intent to distribute, because of the pure concentration of the heroin residue in the baggie. She was also charged with child endangerment and involuntary manslaughter for Keon’s death. She was assigned a public defender that hardly even spoke to her. He looked young and inexperienced. One look at him, Celeste lost all hope of getting out of jail.

  Drake had to plan Keon’s funeral by himself. He had not visited Celeste and whenever she used her collect calls to call him, he would not accept the charges. It was driving Celeste crazy that he wouldn’t speak to her. In her mind, Drake was there the night Keon overdosed, so she couldn’t understand why he would be blaming her for their baby’s death.

  Celeste wasn’t even told about Keon’s funeral arrangement. Her lawyer had to call almost all of the funeral homes in Brooklyn to find out when and where the funeral was going to be held. Her lawyer had petitioned the court to allow her to attend Keon’s funeral. The judge reluctantly agreed.

  Celeste was led into the funeral parlor in leg shackles and she had three armed escorts. When she walked in and saw her baby’s tiny body in the casket, she broke down all over again. The reality of the situation had really settled in now and Celeste let it all hang out. She screamed and hollered for her baby.

  Ben was also escorted to the funeral. He was allowed to sit next to his mother in the front row, directly in front of Keon’s tiny white and gold casket. He was burdened down with guilt when he saw his mother surrounded by three armed officers like she was a mass murderer. It was especially hurtful for Ben because he knew Celeste was locked up for a crime she didn’t commit.

  His eyes had black bags under them because he had not slept well. Celeste gave a small smile when she looked up and saw Ben. He hugged his mother around her shoulders tightly and rocked a bit while he held on like he never wanted to let go. He had tried to keep his eyes on Celeste’s face or on Keon, because it was breaking his heart to see his mother all shackled up like that.

  “Ben . . . I don’t know what is going on,” she cried as he held onto her so tight he threatened to choke off her air passage. Her armed escorts moved in to break up their moment of affection. Celeste would only be allowed a few seconds of physical contact. Ben sat down next to her. He couldn’t even say anything to his mother.

  “I go back to court in three weeks. The lawyer is tryna get me to plead guilty for a shorter sentence,” Celeste managed to say between racking sobs. ‘Ben, I didn’t have any drugs in the house . . . you gotta believe me. I don’t even know what they’re talking about they found a bag with drug residue in it.”

  Ben hadn’t heard about the bag with residue in it. A cold chill shot down his back when his mother spoke the words. His heart started hammering against his chest bone. He remembered now that the very last time he had used his newspaper delivery bag to hide his baggie after bagging up, he hadn’t thrown it away. He had left the house with the baby instead. It was so long ago, Ben had forgotten all about it. Ben didn’t even realize his mother had his newspaper bag, because he had started using Keon’s baby bag to transport the heroin to his drops. With this new bombshell dropped on him, he had a hard decision to make. It was either confess and send the cops Deezo’s way or let his innocent mother sit in jail for something he knew damn well she didn’t do.

  Baby Keon’s funeral had gotten packed with people from the neighborhood. Some of Celeste’s family came, but there was way more of Drake’s family there. Drake’s family members shot daggers at Celeste with their eyes. They had all read the newspapers and the pieced together story that the media was putting out about how Keon had gotten the drugs.

  Ben had sat on the front pew with his mother the entire time, so he had not seen when Quan, Deezo and some of the other boys he had hustled with walked into the funeral parlor. But they all saw him.

  The service for babies are always much sadder and somber than for adults. The funeral director kept referring to Keon as “God’s angel,” which made Celeste feel even worse. She screamed and cried through practically the entire service. When it was over, she was escorted out of the funeral home.

  Ben walked slowly next to his mother. There were so many people he couldn’t look at every face. Instead, he just kept scanning the crowd. As he let his eyes roam, he almost fainted. He had noticed a few of the corner boys he knew and then he had locked eyes with Quan and Deezo. He felt like running out of the place. His palms became sweaty and he felt like he would take a shit in his pants. He could hardly walk once he saw them.

  Deezo gave Ben the serious ice grill. Ben averted his eyes away from Deezo’s gaze. He knew that with the armed guards there and with the police and media outside, Deezo probably wouldn’t call attention to himself and go after Ben. Not there anyway. If Ben had previously had any doubts about whether or not Deezo was looking for him, those doubts were put to rest. Deezo was definitely after him.

  Ben walked slowly by Deezo, feeling the heat of Deezo’s gaze on him.

  “I’m gonna see you Shorty,” Deezo called out to Ben as he passed the row of seats Deezo and the crew sat in. Celeste whipped her head around, but she couldn’t tell where the words had come from. There were just too many people.

  Ben held his head down and didn’t respond. He didn’t know why he was acting so guilty. He told himself that he should have just told Deezo the truth about his mistake and dealt with the consequences. It’s not like Ben had stolen the drugs or sold them for his own personal gain. Now Deezo was under the impression that Ben had crossed him with the drugs and to make matters worse, Deezo thought Ben had been talking to the cops to get around dealing with Deezo’s consequences. Ben was in a lose/lose situation right now.

  Outside, Ben gave his mother a final hug. He didn’t know when or if he would see her again.

  “Ben, you gotta help me find out what happened in the house. I gotta get out of here,” Celeste pleaded, looking her son directly in the eyes. Ben could swear that his mother could read the guilt in his eyes. He lowered his eyes to the ground and walked away with Ms. Tori, who had accompanied him to the funeral.

  Celeste wasn’t allowed to go to the cemetery for Keon’s burial after the funeral ended. She cried for the entire ride back to Riker’s Island. Ben had told Ms. Tori he didn’t feel up to going to the cemetery as well. He was driven back to the group home. A few times during the ride, he peered out of the back window of the car while they drove back. He was paranoid, but he also knew without even looking out the window that he was being followed.

  Quan and Deezo had paid five of the group home boys and gave them specific instructions on how they wanted things handled. The boys were so happy to get some money that the home counselors didn’t know about, they probably would’ve done anything for it.

  When Ben returned from the funeral, he just wanted to get in his bunk and go to sleep. He was mentally and physically exhausted. He signed in and went to his dorm. He sat down on his bed and pulled out the program from baby Keon’s funeral service. He shook his head as he looked at the tiny bit of information about his brother. Ben stared at the picture of his chubby faced baby brother that was on the front of the program. He felt a stabbing pain in his heart. He put his head in his hands and for the first time since everything happened, he let himself cry for his brother’s lost life. Ben realized that Keon was dead because he had been so selfish and d
esperate for material things. He had been a sucker for candy like Deezo had warned him against. And like so many suckers for candy before him, he had lost his entire family chasing behind the hood’s deadly candy.

  Ben held his head down for a while and let the silent tears run into his hands. He could hear the sound of footsteps moving towards him. But he didn’t bother to look up. He just figured it was some of his bunk mates coming back from their daily activities. He didn’t want to see any of them or deal with their bullshit. As he kept his head in his hands, he noticed that the sound seemed like it was a lot of footsteps, not just one set like he initially thought. He removed his hands from his face and went to lift his head up. Just as he did, BANG!

  He felt a sudden explosion inside his head. He had been punched in the top of his head. Dazed, he went to put his hands up in defense, but he didn’t have time to react before another closed fisted blow landed in the center of his face. He was seeing stars now. He tried to blink away the pain and confusion, but it was to no avail. Ben tried to lift his arms up to cover himself at least. He couldn’t even do that. His arms were being held down on either side of him and so were his legs. He was rendered powerless. There were too many attackers for him to fight off. BANG! More closed fisted blows attacked his body. Ben felt a sharp pain permeate his stomach, then his chest. He was dragged onto the hard tile floor now and his head landed with a thud.

  “Kick him.” Ben heard somebody whisper faintly. Then he felt a severe pain in his rib cage. His mouth popped open to scream, but nothing came out. He couldn’t scream, somebody had stuffed a balled up pair of socks into his mouth. Ben bit down into the fuzzy cotton of the socks.

  He was trying to move, to fight. His efforts were futile against all of the hands holding him down. He opened his battered eyes, just in time to see the front of a construction Timberland boot coming straight for his head. BAM! The boot came crashing down on Ben’s skull. His head banged into the tile on the floor. He felt as if his brain would explode.