While my parents were going through their changes, i was going through mine. I was at the age where i questioned everything. The world was beginning to have more and more impact on me. I was curious about, and wanted to experience, everything. On week ends, whenever i could, i would take off. I went to the movies or to the library, but my favorite activity was riding subways and buses. I would hop on any subway or bus, ride until i got tired, then get off at any stop and walk around. Sometimes i talked to people or played handball with kids my age. Other times i just walked and looked. I went into all kinds of neighbourhoods-white, Black, Puerto Rican, Chinatown too. But Harlem was my favorite place. I was fascinated by the street life. I was always trying to figure out what was going on. Everything was so colorful and busy. Men standing on the corner drinking, boys playing basketball, hustlers buzzing up and down the streets huddling and making deals. It was the land of dream books, kitchenettes, and Johnnie Walker Red. I loved the stores. From the market on Park Avenue to the greasy fish joints, to the candy stores that sold penny candy and penny cigarettes and god knows what else. I would walk and look and think. The world for me then was a big question mark, and the biggest question of all was where i fit in.
I was always late getting home and in trouble. It was like i had some kind of disease. I could never make it home on time. I would leave with the best intentions, but as soon as i got out in the street, it was as if i was in a trance. I would forget all about the time until it was too late. And half the time when i realized that it was getting dark, i didn't even know where i was, much less how to get home. My mother would talk to me, slap me, shake me, punish me, but nothing worked. I was a lost cause. I was running away from home and i didn't even know it. And one thing always led to another. I was turning into a fantastic liar. As soon as i got near home i began making up lies. When i look back at it now, i know my mother must have wanted to choke me when she heard those farfetched creations, but at the time i thought they were brilliant. As the problems in my family intensified, i ran away consciously instead of unconsciously.
The first time i ran away, i went to Evelyn's house. She wasn't home so i fell asleep on the stairway. When she came home, she thought i was some kind of drunken bum, so she walked by me and went to her apartment. I came back the next day and she talked to me, played shrink and family counselor, and sent me home. It worked for a while, but things were a mess. My mother and i couldn't see eye to eye about anything, and i was just as stubborn and self-willed as she was. And even when i tried to do right, it just seemed like i couldn't do anything that made her happy. And when my mother and stepfather were at each other's throats, it drove me wild. I would simply get my coat and walk out. Some days i just didn't come back.
At times, running away was fun and exciting. At other times it was miserable, cold, and lonely. The part i dug about it, though, was surviving. Being out there, face to face with the raunchiest side of life was like living on a roller-coaster, everything hurling itself at you at breakneck speed. It was one hell of an education, and, when i think about it, i was one lucky chile. So many things could have happened to me, and almost did.
The first time i ran away i had just the clothes on my back and very little money. I rode the subway and slept in hallways until i just couldn't take it anymore. Then i started talking to people. One of the first people i met was this boy named David. I told him that my mother was in the hospital and that i didn't have any other family in New York and i was scared to stay home alone. He took me home to his mother's house and we told his mother the same story. She said it would be okay for me to spend the night. They lived in the Farragut Projects in Brooklyn. David took me out and introduced me to all his friends. We got along fine until nighttime. Then it was war-an all-night wrestling match. When he wasn't attacking me, he was begging and pleading and thinking up a thousand arguments why i should give him some. I told him i was afraid of getting pregnant. He went and got this big jar of Vaseline and told me that, if you used Vaseline, you couldn't get pregnant. I was dumb, but not that dumb. I told him to go to hell, and the wrestling match continued. After a day or two at David's, i was ready to move on. Besides, his mother was getting suspicious.
My next new friend was a girl. I couldn't take any more Davids. Tina lived in the Fort Greene section of Brooklyn with her mother and her brother in a brownstone house. It was a rickety old house and half of it looked like it was condemned. There was nothing whatsoever in that house that was orderly. There were rooms with all kinds of junk in them, stacked almost to the ceiling: tables, chairs, record players, old radios. I told the same old story to Tina's mother and she was sweet as pie. I could stay there just as long as i wanted, she said. In fact, she said, she "just loved to have young people around her." And she wasn't lying either. All day long there was a procession of people in and out of that house, and most of them were young. When Tina's mother saw that i didn't have any clothes, she said, "We'll just have to take you shopping." I remember thinking how nice she was, to be willing to spend money on me, a stranger. The next morning we went down to Fulton Street.
"All right," she told me, "now I want you to go with Tina into A&S and pick out what you want; I'll be here at the soda place. Just remember where everything is."
Off we went, Tina and I. I was happy as a jaybird; my clothes were kind of on the funky side. When we got inside the store, i started to pick up things and got ready to try them on.
"Be cool," said Tina. "Don't you know what size you wear?" "Yeah," i said. “Why?"
"Let's just get the stuff and get out of here. If you like something, just say so. Don't go picking it up and putting it on and carrying on."
"O.K.," i said, thinking that she was strange. I liked a plaid kilt with a big safety pin and a blouse and sweater to match.
"This will go with it, too," Tina said, pointing to a white blouse. "Now you just do what i tell you. Step in this."
"Step in what?" i said, looking down.
"Be cool, fool!" Tina whispered. "Just keep looking ahead and help me pull this thing up." She had already got half the skirt up around my thighs. Finally we got the skirt up and fastened under my own skirt. "O.K., let's get out of here," Tina said. "Wait a minute. Roll that skirt up, it's hanging down, and don't look down!" I was scared out of my wits, but i started to roll.
"Not your skirt, fool," Tina whispered, "the one underneath."
Well, i was walking and rolling and trying to look cool and, if anyone had seen me, i know i musta looked like a slapstick comedy. But somehow we made it out of there. I expected the police to come swooping down on us at any moment. Tina's mother was still sitting in the same place, sipping on a soda.
"How'd it go?" she asked Tina.
"She's O.K.," Tina said. "She don't know nothin', but she was cool." I felt like fainting. Everybody else's mother i knew would knock you down if they even thought you were stealing. This was surely something new. I just kept staring at Tina's mother. She must've seen me staring at her, too, because she told me, "That's right, i steal and my kids steal, too. They tryin' to take my house from me. Tryin' to take everythin' i got. I got to survive by the best way i know how. But it ain't really stealing; it's just a discount. You need a discount, high as these stores is. We call it the 'five-finger discount.' " She started laughing.
When we got to the house, she said, "All right, let's see all the pretty clothes you got." Tina took the blouses and sweater from somewhere and i took the skirt from under my skirt. "That's all you got?"
"Yeah," said Tina. "She don't know how to do nothin', an' we was takin' too long."
"Y'all didn't get no underwear?" Tina's mother asked.
“No."
"Well, here," she said, giving us some money. "Go to the five and dime and buy some. And I don't want y'all taking nothin', ya hear? I didn't raise no nickel-and-dime-store kids, understan'?"
"Yes." And we were gone.
"We're gon teach you how to deal," Tina said on the way from the store. I just looked at
her. My mind was spinning. Then i started to feel glad about it. We had gotten over. We had gotten over tough. The idea of five-finger discounts was beginning to appeal to me. And it was easy as hell.
That night i dressed up in my new clothes and went with Tina and her brother to hang out. He was on the quiet side, and evil looking, but he turned out to be nice. We were going to a party at the Fort Greene Projects. We stopped and bought some french fries and Thunderbird. At the party, Tina introduced me to Tyrone. It was love at first sight. I thought he was the cutest boy i'd ever seen. Tyrone was the warlord of the Fort Greene Chaplins, and i thought it was just so romantic, like West Side Story. We sat in the hallway, drinking wine and smoking cigarettes. I had smoked before, but i had never drunk any wine. The music was playing and the lights were down low and i was feeling goooooooddd. They were playing those old slow sides like "Wind," "Gloria," "In the Still of the Night," "Sunday Kind of Love." We went inside and started to dance. I was in love and dancing on clouds, whirling around the dance floor. I was whirling and spinning, and all of a sudden i was outside, holding onto some bench for dear life, drunk as a skunk and sick as a dog. When i was finally able to stand, Tyrone walked me to Tina's house. We held hands all the way and he made a big deal out of kissing me good night, although i'll never understand how he could stand my vomit-tasting mouth.
I woke up the next morning feeling like elephants had been doing the Watusi on my forehead and like i was walking on my eyelids. Tina's mother wanted me to go someplace with her. I got up, washed, and got dressed. "What kind of jewelry do you like?" she asked me.
"I don't know," i said. "I guess i like rubies because they are my birthstone."
"Oh, no! You look like a girl that's made strictly for diamonds."
"Really?" i asked, flattered.
"Oh yeah, diamonds are a girl's best friend. And I'm gonna show you how to get some." She spent the morning and most of the afternoon showing me how to do just that. "You have nothin' to worry about," she kept telling me. "Even if they catch you, they can't do nothin' to you, you're a kid." I was supposed to go in a store and talk very proper. I was to ask the price of everything and tell the clerk that my father gave me $80 to spend, but that i had some money of my own. Tina and her brother would come in and create a diversion and, while everyone was looking at them, i was to put the biggest earrings i could get in my mouth under my tongue. I was to say something to the salesman and walk calmly out of the store. There were a few more parts to the plan, but i don't re member them. She had me practice talking with things under my tongue.
When we got to the store, i thought i was going to die of fright. I acted like i didn't know Tina and her brother and went in as planned. The store was pretty crowded and i went into my act. I was so scared, i felt like i was having hot flashes. At first the salesman acted like he didn't want to show me anything, but when i told him about the $80 and my extra money, he hurried up and pulled out trays. I held them up, saying, "Do you think she'll like these? Do you think she'll like these better?" Then, all of a sudden, Tina and her brother came running into the store. They were laughing real loud and chasing and grabbing each other. I almost forgot what i was supposed to be doing because I was so busy watching them. Then i remembered and, when i saw that no one was watching, i picked up the biggest earrings i saw and put them into my mouth. "I don't see anything Mommy would really like," i said. "Maybe i'll come back later." I started walking to the door. I just knew that that man was going to call me back.
"Miss," someone called. I felt like dropping through the floor. I looked out of the corner of my eye and saw that it was another salesman calling someone else. I walked out of the store, turned a corner, and ran. I was halfway to Tina's house before they caught up with me. The earrings were still in my mouth.
"Did you get over?" Tina asked me. I looked at her almost as if i didn't know her. "Did you cop or not?" she asked again, impatiently. Finally, i spit the earrings out into my hand.
"Shit," said Tina's mother, "them's pretty numbers there, I like them myself." As it turned out, the earrings were for pierced ears and my ears weren't pierced. "Sell them to me," Tina's mother said. "I'll give you $20 for them."
"It's a deal," i told her. I was glad as hell to get $20. I didn't care about no diamond earrings and i needed some money to get away and try to find a job. I was convinced that i wasn't cut out to be no thief.
That night we went out to celebrate. Tina's mother had given me $20 plus $2 extra for good work and she had also given me a pretty, gold-colored dress and nice black shoes. I was dressed up clean as the board of health and we all had some money in our pockets and were ready to "do it." We looked for Tyrone but he wasn't home. We walked all around the projects until we found him. He was at the house of these twins Jessie and James, or something like that. They all went downstairs for some kinda meeting. Everybody said they were gonna fight. They were at war with another gang, the Bishops, and one of their members had got messed up by the Bishops. Finally, the meeting was over and Tyrone came and hung out with us. But it wasn't the same. He spent the whole night talking about what he was gonna do to the Bishops. And if he wasn't talking about that, he was talking about the fights he'd had before, gang fights, school fights, fight fights, etc. It seemed like his whole life was fighting.
"Why?" i kept thinking. "Why was he so into fighting?" The question was on the tip of my tongue, but i just couldn't bring myself to ask it. I tried to imagine the future, Mrs. Tyrone whateverhisnamewas, and the children. Me, packing his lunch as he went off to fight the Bishops. Somehow, the picture didn't work. I was tired of this adventure. I was ready to go home. Whatever the consequences!
Chapter 5
AII right, Chesimard, pack your things. You're being moved."
"Moved? Where?”
"You'll find out when you get there.”
"Then i'd like to call my lawyer.”
"You can call your lawyer when you get where you're going."
I kept trying to find out where they were taking me. The continuation of the jersey trial, after the change of venue to Morristown, was still a month away. Maybe they were just moving me ahead of time. Maybe they were taking me back to the workhouse. I wasn't too worried, though. Anywhere was better than that basement in the middlesex county jail. The sheriff came down with a piece of paper in his hand.
"Where am i going?" i asked him.
"I have a federal order to produce you," he said, waving the paper around. "You are being turned over to the custody of the federal government."
"What for?”
"I don't know. You'll have to ask the feds.”
My abrupt transfer from one jail to another, without either notice to my lawyers or explanation to me, was a scenario that would be repeated over and over again during the next few years.
After our motion for a change of venue from Middlesex County was granted in October 1973 , i was returned to the basement of the middlesex county jail, where i believed i would remain until the trial resumed in Morris County on January 4, 1974. Evelyn immediately swung into action, contacting the national Jury Project to explore the level of racism in Morris County and preparing a number of motions she anticipated would have to be made before the morris county kourt. In addition, she was working on the continuous motion to remove me from solitary confinement in the middlesex county jail that was then before the new jersey federal district kourt. The underlying argument of the motion-that this kind of confinement destroyed my ability to adequately participate in preparation for my trial-had to be supported by psychological data and the opinions of experts. Evelyn was trying to find psychologists and sociologists willing to provide their professional assessments in support of the motion. She was also trying to locate a forensic pathologist, a ballistics expert, a forensic chemist, and other specialists we needed for the trial, and trying to raise money to pay them.
I was aware that there were two indictments outstanding against me for alleged bank robberies. Evelyn had been told t
hat trials for these charges would follow the trial in jersey. One of the indictments was for a Bronx bank robbery that occurred in September 1972. I had been indicted for this crime along with Kamau, Avon White, and others in the federal kourt, southern district of New York, located in Foley Square in lower Manhattan.
I knew that Evelyn had made a motion before the southern district judge, gagliardi, to have that trial postponed until after the termination of the jersey trial. Having learned that the motion had been granted, i didn't connect the move to New York with the bank robbery trial. I was wrong.
The trip was the usual high-security endless procession of cars. And, as usual, i enjoyed the ride. Just the walk from the door of the jail to the car did me good-it had been so long since i had seen daylight or breathed fresh air. I looked at the trees and the grass and the sky as if i had never seen them before. It was a gloriously beautiful day.
When the feds told me they were taking me to New York to go to trial, i didn't know what in the world was going on, but i was sure Evelyn would straighten things out. There was no way in hell i could go to trial in federal kourt. Not unless they gave us time to prepare for it and canceled the jersey trial. There was no way that Evelyn could deal with both trials at the same time. She was working so hard i couldn't keep track of all that she was doing.
I knew we had arrived somewhere in Queens, but i didn't know where. There was no courthouse in the direction we had gone. The car came to a bridge where pigs were stationed, pointing rifles and shotguns. On the other side of the bridge were more police.
Assata: An Autobiography Page 10
