Mean Little People

by Dearth, Paige

  “Then what happens?”

  “The judge will decide if he believes that you are innocent or if there is a chance that you stabbed the boy.”

  “What if they don’t believe me?”

  “If the judge doesn’t believe you, there is a possibility that you will go to an adult court and a different judge will make a decision after hearing all the facts. Is there any more information you need to tell me?”

  Tony shook his head. “I told ya everything I know.”

  “OK. Is there anything that you need?”

  “Yeah, I need to get outta here. This place ain’t good.”

  Tony shifted in his seat and winced when a stab of pain ran through his core.

  “Did something happen to you, Tony? Has someone hurt you?”

  “That don’t matter. All that matters is that I get outta here.”

  Tony’s eyes burned with sizzling tears. He tried to hold them back, but they spilled down his cheeks.

  Roger leaned forward and put his hand on Tony’s wrist. “If someone has hurt you, then I need to know.”

  Tony thought about telling Roger everything that had happened to him in the last twenty-four hours, but he was afraid of what the guards and other boys would do to him for being a snitch.

  “I just wanna go home. I didn’t do nothin’ wrong, and there ain’t no reason for me to be here.”

  Tony and Roger talked for a while longer. Roger was trying to build a level of trust. His instincts told him that Tony hadn’t stabbed the other boy, but he also knew that Tony was lying about something, maybe protecting someone. Roger looked down at his pad of notes. There wasn’t much to go with in court, and he was nervous that Tony’s story wouldn’t pass muster with the judge. He took in a long breath.

  “I have to leave now. If you remember any other details of that night, anyone who may have seen you at the scene, then you tell one of the guards that you need to talk to me tomorrow before the hearing starts. OK?”

  “Sure,” Tony muttered. “Do ya think I’m gonna go home tomorra?”

  “I don’t know, Tony. I’ll try my best. You hang in there and be careful.”

  Back in his cell, Tony thought about his meeting with Roger. He would not tell on Salvatore—not because Johnny had threatened him, but because Salvatore was his friend. Johnny had treated him terribly when he got to the house…he had made Tony feel like he was nothing.

  Tony’s only regret was that he hadn’t run from the crime like Salvatore and Vincent.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Later that afternoon, while Tony was eating dinner, Officer Geltz approached. Tony didn’t make eye contact with him. He wanted to get through one meal without being bullied.

  “I hear you met with your lawyer today. Word on the street is that he said you’re a liar, Bruno. Everyone knows you’re lying. Look around you—this room is filled with liars. I’ll bet that you’ll lose tomorrow. The judge is going to see that you are a conniving little bastard. What do you have to say for yourself, Bruno?”

  “Nothin’, sir.”

  “That’s right. You don’t have anything to say because you know that you’re lying. You know that you killed that boy and are right where you belong. See these boys in here? These other boys have done stupid things, but you’re the only one here for murder. That means you’re the worst person in this room. I bet you’ll get the electric chair,” Officer Geltz taunted.

  Tony’s gut felt like it was filled with hot tar.

  “I understand you didn’t want to eat your breakfast this morning. I want to see your tray before you drop it off, and it better be squeaky clean. You understand me?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Tony sat and ate the foul-tasting food on his tray. He even scraped his finger against the plastic to make sure there was not a morsel of food left on it. When it was time to return to his cell, Tony walked his tray up to Officer Geltz and showed it to him.

  Officer Geltz gave Tony a grave look. “I suppose tomorrow night you’re going to need more food since it seems that you ate every last drop. You must be really hungry.”

  Tony left his tray on the rack and walked quickly back to his cell. He had been sitting on his bed when Dooley appeared in the doorway.

  “You better hope that the judge lets you outta here. No tellin’ what’ll happen to ya if ya gotta stay in this place. We don’t like snitches, and that’s what you are, nothing but a snitch. You better watch yourself.”

  “I never snitched on anyone,” Tony said, thinking of Salvatore. “I don’t snitch.”

  “I don’t believe you. Like I said, ya better hope the judge lets you outta here tomorrow.”

  When Tony was alone in his cell again, he thought about his mother. Out on the streets, he had felt like he was grown, but now in the dreariness of the prison, he wanted to curl up into his mother’s lap so she could tell him that everything would be all right. Tony fell asleep with a small glimmer of hope that the next day he would be set free.

  ***

  The next morning, Tony was handcuffed and then loaded into a van and driven to the county courthouse. There were three rows of chairs on either side of the aisle. Tony noticed his mother sitting in the first row. She was looking at him with worried eyes. She stood and tried to go to him, but a guard stopped her. Roger Taft shook Tony’s cuffed hands, and they sat down together.

  When the judge addressed Tony and asked him directly if he had committed the crime, Tony shook his head.

  “I didn’t do nothin’ to Rex,” he responded.

  The judge responded with an emotionless response. “Did you see who killed the boy?”

  “No. I was just tryin’ to help Rex and this man came outta the store and said I killed ’im. He’s lyin’ ’cause he didn’t see nothin’,” Tony explained.

  The judge leaned forward and propped his elbows on the table in front of him. His brow was taught and lips tightly pressed together. “Well, how do you know what the man saw? You claim you showed up after the boy was stabbed. Seems to me that you’re lying.”

  Tony turned and looked at his mother. “I swear I ain’t lyin’,” he cried.

  Before the judge made his decision, Roger argued that Tony did not commit the crime and that he was not a threat to the community. While Roger had delivered a compelling argument, the judge made a ruling to detain Tony because he didn’t believe him and, the prosecutor had an eyewitness to the murder. Because Tony was so young and had no prior record, the judge decided not to transfer him to an adult court. Roger had convinced the judge that Tony deserved a chance to prove himself in the juvenile system and that sending the young boy to adult court without more supporting evidence would be unfair and unjust to a child who never had a record of violence.

  After the hearing, a court officer brought Tony into another room inside the courthouse.

  “Am I going home?” Tony asked.

  “Your attorney is coming in to talk to you. He will explain everything.”

  A few minutes later, Roger Taft and Teresa entered the room. Still handcuffed, Tony jumped to his feet and threw himself into his mother’s arms. After several moments, Roger instructed them to sit.

  “What’s gonna happen to Tony?” Teresa said, bawling.

  “Well, there’s good news and bad news. The good news is that the judge decided not to send the case to adult court. The bad news is that the judge has a reasonable basis to believe that Tony may have committed the crime. Tony’s probation officer will have to file a delinquency petition within the next twenty-four hours. After that there will be an adjudication hearing.”

  “What’s that?” Tony said.

  “It’s like a trial. The judge will let the witness come into court and testify against you.”

  “So when do I gotta come back here?”

  “If the prosecutor needs more time to collect evidence, which I suspect he will, it could be ten days before we go back to court.”

  Tony turned to his mother. “You’re gonna bring me back
, right? I don’t wanna come by myself.”

  Roger cleared his throat. “Tony, you won’t be able to go home with your mother. You’ll be taken back to the juvenile detention center to wait for the hearing.”

  Tony’s mouth hung open, and he leaned in closer. “Mr. Taft, I can’t go back there. You gotta tell the judge that I don’t wanna go. All the kids are older than me. I…I can’t stay there no more.”

  “I understand that you’re scared, Tony. Now, if the older boys give you a hard time, all you have to do is tell one of the officers. OK? They have an obligation to keep you safe.”

  Tony shook his head. A sob caught in his chest, and he broke down.

  “What is it, baby?” Teresa asked, moving her chair closer to Tony.

  “Nothin’. I just wanna go home. I wanna be back in my own room,” Tony wailed. “I’m scared.”

  “I know you’re scared. I’m scared too. But right now ya gotta be strong. Ya gotta think good thoughts. Think ’bout gettin’ outta that godforsaken place. Ya hear me?” Teresa said.

  Tony looked at Roger. “Do ya think I’m gonna win?”

  “I don’t know. I wish I could give you some comfort, but I just don’t know what’s going to happen. I’ll make sure that I’m prepared to ask all the right questions of the man who claims he saw you commit the crime. I promise both of you that I’ll do my very best. That’s all I can say,” Roger said, his heart breaking for the mother and son.

  Later that day, back in the detention center, Officer Nash paid Tony a visit.

  “I hear the judge saw right through your bullshit.”

  “I’m not lyin’,” Tony said.

  “Ha! Keep telling yourself that. Let’s get going. You’re getting moved to another cell, one with a roommate,” Officer Nash said with a twisted smile.

  Tony gathered his few belongings and followed the officer down several corridors. They stopped at cell number twenty-two. Tony looked inside and drew in a breath. His cellmate stood with his hands on his hips and chest puffed out. His face was contorted with a hideous scowl, and Tony took a step backward.

  Officer Nash pushed Tony into the cell. “Enjoy your new home.”

  Officer Nash walked away, and Tony stood, unable to move, his feet betraying him as he stared into the lifeless eyes of Dooley.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  When Tony tried to get on the upper bunk that night, Dooley grabbed his ankles and pulled him onto the floor. Tony belly flopped onto the cement ground. Dooley stood over his body.

  “Your bed is on the floor. Consider yourself my pet. That means you’ll do what I say, when I say to do it. If you don’t, then I’ll keep beating the shit outta of ya until ya eventually learn your lesson,” Dooley growled.

  Tony slept on the cold floor of the cell that night. He dozed in and out, his sleep disrupted by the acid that burned at his insides. He reminded himself that he had ten days…only ten days before he would find out what would happen to him.

  In the morning Dooley shoved his sneaker into Tony’s side.

  “Get up. I don’t want no shit from Nash ’cause your filthy ass is still sleeping.”

  Tony quickly rose and stared at Dooley, building up his courage, which was being fueled by his lack of sleep. “Why don’t cha just leave me alone? I didn’t do nothin’ to ya. I ain’t gonna be here that long, and then you’ll never see me again.”

  Dooley curled his hand into a fist, pulled back his arm, and clocked Tony in the face. Tony flew backward against the wall of the cell. Half-conscious, he slid onto the floor.

  “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to? Huh? You don’t speak to me like that—got it?” Dooley screamed.

  Hearing the commotion—standing where they couldn’t see him — Officer Nash stepped in front of the cell door.

  “Well, what do we have here? Is there a problem, Bruno?”

  Tony shook his head, but his eye that had taken the punch was already closing from the swelling surface.

  “Oh yeah? What happened to your eye then?”

  “I fell off the top bunk, sir.”

  “I see.” Officer Nash looked at Dooley. “Is that true? Did Bruno fall off of his bunk?”

  Dooley shrugged his shoulders, and Officer Nash turned back to Tony.

  “Are you lying to me, Bruno?”

  “No, sir. I fell off of my bunk, just like I said.”

  “Well, if that’s true, then why didn’t Dooley see you fall? You’ve been here the whole time, right?” he asked Dooley.

  “Yes, sir. I was here.”

  Officer Nash turned back to Tony. “So you must be lying.”

  “I’m not lyin’,” Tony insisted.

  “Well, then are you saying that Dooley is lying?”

  Tony started to sweat. He didn’t know which was worse, Nash or Dooley going after him. He quickly decided on Nash since Dooley would have access to him every night for the next ten days.

  “No, Dooley ain’t lying neither,” Tony whispered.

  “Get up, you little bastard,” Officer Nash demanded.

  Tony walked behind Nash as he was led into the shower. Officer Nash made all the other boys cease their showers while they watched Tony get undressed and take his own shower. The other boys were forced to stand away from the warm water. They shivered from being cold, and their anger toward Tony grew as they had to watch him shower. Their agitation made the air heavy with resentment toward Tony.

  “Look, boys—Bruno’s got a pencil dick,” Officer Nash tormented.

  The other boys laughed, but their anger towards Tony was mounting as they waited to get back under the warm water. When Tony finished dressing, he followed Officer Nash to the cafeteria. Nash stood side by side with Tony as he received his breakfast.

  “Bruno wants more of that oatmeal. Give him more.”

  A second lump of gruel hit the tray. Tony could feel the bile creeping into his throat in reaction to the smell.

  “You look real hungry, Bruno. I think you need some more prunes. Give him more,” he said to the boy in charge of serving the cooked prunes.

  By the time Tony got through the line, his tray felt like it weighed ten pounds. He made his way to the table where he was assigned and sat down. Tony stared at what appeared to be an insurmountable amount of food.

  “Eat, Bruno!”

  Officer Nash stood over him as he took one mouthful after another. Finally, unable to eat any more, Tony leaned to the side and threw up on the floor next to Nash. Officer Nash aggressively lifted the tray and threw it onto the floor.

  “Get down there and eat every last bit of it!”

  The cafeteria went silent. Even some boys who resented Tony felt sorry for what was about to happen.

  Tony looked at Officer Nash with disbelief.

  “Did you hear me? Get down on your hands and knees and eat every bit of that food and puke,” Nash ordered. “You might waste food at home with your whore mother, but you don’t get to waste food here.”

  Tony felt glued to his seat. Officer Nash grabbed him by the collar of his prison uniform and threw him onto the floor. He leaned over and pushed Tony’s face into the food and vomit. Tony’s nose hit the floor so hard it bled.

  “I said eat!” Officer Nash screamed again.

  Tony ate the mixture of food, vomit, and blood, licking and slurping it up like an animal.

  “Faster!” Officer Nash yelled.

  He pushed Tony’s face deep into the foul contents. Tony resisted; he was having a difficult time breathing. Food was up his nose and lodged in his throat. Tony tried to flip onto his back, but Officer Nash was too strong. Suddenly, as Tony flailed his body to take in a breath of air, he felt Officer Nash become weightless. When Tony wiped the food from his eyes, another officer stared down at him. The officer looked at him with sympathetic eyes. He gave Tony a look of genuine concern. That moment was the first time Tony had felt any kindness since he’d arrived.

  The officer extended a large hand to Tony. “I’m Officer Zo
dy. My friend over here, Officer Nash, he gets a little carried away sometimes. Let me help you up.”

  Tony grabbed Zody’s hand, and he was pulled to his feet by the kind man. Officer Zody motioned to a boy who was serving bread to come over.

  “Bradley, you go ahead and clean up this mess for me,” Officer Zody said in a calm manner.

  Zody turned back to Tony. “I run the kitchen. See all the boys serving food and cleaning up your trays?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “They all work for me. I’ve been watching you since you arrived. It seems to me like you’ve been having a real hard time.”

  Tony nodded, feeling a deep bond with the man.

  “You’re a lot younger than the other boys here. That must be hard.”

  “Yes, sir,” Tony mumbled, looking down at the floor.

  Officer Zody patted Tony on the back. “Come on. Follow me.”

  Tony followed as all the other boys watched him. Tony thought he saw envy in their eyes, and for a moment, a trickle of power pulsed through his veins. He followed the officer into his office and sat in the chair across the desk from him.

  “Have you been assigned a job yet?”

  “No, sir.”

  “OK. First off, I want you to call me Zody, like all the other boys that work for me.”

  Tony smiled. “Thanks, Zody.”

  “How would you like to work here in the kitchen? The boys that work in the kitchen eat privately under my supervision. That way you don’t have to put up with Officer Nash or Geltz. I’ve seen how they’ve been treating you. What do you say?”

  “Wow. That’d be great. And I get to spend most of the day in the kitchen?”

  “You sure do. Now, I heard that you are waiting for a trial that will be scheduled in the next ten days. Do your parents come to see you here?”

  “Nah. We live too far away. My father, well, he don’t like me too much, so he wouldn’t come anyway. My mother would come more, but our car ain’t that good, and she’s afraid it’ll break down if she drives it too far. She only comes when I gotta go to court. My ma’s friend drives her ’cause she has a better car than we do.”