Entangled (Real in the streets)

by K Elliott

  Jamal and Candy walked up to Raoul’s doorstep and rang the bell.

  A few minutes later Raoul opened the door. He was a short man with curly hair and a thin mustache. “Candy,” Raoul said, then looked at Jamal.

  “Raoul, this is Jamal,” Candy said.

  “What’s up?” Raoul offered his hand.

  Jamal left it dangling. “You tell me. What’s up?” Jamal said.

  “What’s this guy’s problem?” Raoul asked Candy.

  “Jamal thinks he may have been exposed to the virus because he and I were once involved.”

  “Okay,” Raoul said.

  “Is that all you can say?” Jamal said.

  Raoul shrugged. “What do you want me to say?”

  “Raoul, can we come in?” Candy asked as she looked around. “I know you don’t want your neighbors to hear all your business.”

  “I don’t want this motherfucker to come in my house.” Raoul stared at Jamal. “I don’t like his attitude.”

  Jamal shoved Candy aside and walked up to the doorway and brandished a stainless steel handgun. “I think you need to let us in.”

  Raoul stepped back.

  “Jamal, put the gun away,” Candy pleaded.

  Jamal and Candy entered the house. Candy closed the door.

  “Mu’fucka, you better convince me that I might not have the damn virus, or else you going to hell tonight.”

  “You’re going to get out of my house making threats.”

  “Listen,” Jamal said, pointing his finger in Raoul’s face.

  Raoul knocked his hand down.

  Jamal struck Raoul with the butt of the gun across the forehead. Blood spurted in every direction. Raoul fell backward, and the back of his head hit the floor.

  Jamal stepped back realizing some of Raoul’s blood had gotten on his shirt. He rested over Raoul, pinning his arms to the floor using both knees. He stuck the barrel of the gun in Raoul’s mouth. “Imagine how close you are to death.”

  “Get off him or I’ll call the police, Jamal.”

  Jamal made eye contact with Candy. She was standing by the doorway with the phone in her hand. He realized he had too much at stake. He really wanted to kill Raoul. Even though he wasn’t certain he had the virus, the thought itself was troublesome. He knew he had been exposed because he and Candy had never used protection. He saw fear in Candy’s eyes, and tears had begun to well up in Raoul’s. Jamal’s mind then shifted to Dream. How would he tell her he had exposed her? She would definitely leave him at the worst point of his life. He thought about Dawg who was awaiting trial. His friend needed him to stick around at least until he found out his fate. He knew that if he killed Raoul he would have to leave town immediately, and he wasn’t quite ready because he hadn’t been charged with anything. He pulled the barrel of the gun from Raoul’s mouth and slapped him with the butt of it once more. Jamal darted out of the front door got in his car, and drove away.

  *** The next day Jamal called a local doctor’s office and scheduled an appointment for an HIV test. When he got to the receptionist’s desk, he was told to pay a hundred dollars since he didn’t have health insurance. After he filled out the questionnaire about previous illnesses, the doctor came out and escorted him to a back room.

  With a clipboard in hand the doctor studied Jamal’s paperwork. “HIV testing, huh?”

  “Yeah,” Jamal answered.

  “Do you think you’ve been exposed?”

  “No,” Jamal lied.

  “Do you want the results to be public record?”

  “I have a choice?” Jamal asked, surprised.

  “Yeah. Since you paid for the test out of your pocket, you have that option. If you had health insurance, we would have had no choice but to make it public record. Sometimes this information is sold to databases and can even end up on the Internet.”

  Jamal was shocked. He couldn’t believe that paying a hundred dollars would ensure so much privacy. He wondered how many people were actually infected with the virus, living life as if they weren’t. Jamal was glad he had this option, because he definitely didn’t want Dream to find out. She couldn’t know whether the results were negative or positive. He didn’t want her to know that she had been exposed. “I don’t want anybody to know,” Jamal said.

  The doctor then asked Jamal to sign a consent form. Shortly afterward, a nurse entered the room and withdrew a sample of blood from Jamal’s left arm. The nurse told him to sit in the lobby and that the results of the test would be available in twenty minutes. “The doctor will call you back and go over the results with you,” she said.

  Jamal sat in the lobby wondering how everything had gone so bad at once. What did he do to deserve such bad luck? He had always thought of HIV as a gay man’s disease. He’d stayed clear of homosexuals while in prison. He was a real man and he prided himself in being a real man. He couldn’t believe that being HIV positive was so much a possibility. He glanced at his watch and twenty minutes had passed, so he approached the receptionist. “Excuse me. The nurse said the doctor would be calling me in twenty minutes.”

  “Whenever the doctor is ready he will call for you,” the receptionist said.

  “What’s taking the doctor so long?” Jamal asked.

  “I don’t know,” the receptionist said. “Just have a seat, Mr. Stewart, and I’m sure someone will be with you shortly.”

  Jamal returned to his seat; ten minutes passed and he still hadn’t heard from anyone. He stood from his seat and eased out of the front entrance.

  *** Mark was confident that they would win the trial. The prosecution had sufficient evidence against Dawg. Besides the recording, Mark had purchased drugs directly from Dawg. He was relieved that the trial would be over soon. He wasn’t glad that Dawg was about to go to prison for a long time. He actually thought Dawg was a decent man who hadn’t had the guidance he needed to be a well-rounded person. Mark sometimes found it hard to separate his job from personal feelings.

  During the past winter months, Mark had talked to Dawg extensively about his family, his future, and his goals. Dawg had told him he didn’t want to be involved in drug dealing for the rest of his life. He had aspirations to own his own business someday. He had told Mark that he wanted to have a carwash or a lawn service; something that didn’t have a lot of overhead.

  Dawg’s mother was a hard-working woman employed by a local nursing home in downtown Charlotte. She was a maid and had worked there for the last fifteen years without missing a day, according to Dawg. Mark was almost certain he would see Dawg’s mother in the courtroom.

  Steven Davis was only twenty-eight years old, facing at least twenty-five years behind bars if convicted. The only way he would get less than the mandatory twenty-five was to testify against Jamal and Angelo. Mark didn’t expect him to do that. Dawg and Jamal were like brothers. they had a special relationship. Mark knew the trial would be an emotional one, but he had a job to do.

  Dawg’s jury of peers consisted of ten middle-aged white men, one white woman, and a black woman, Mable Johnston, who listed her occupation as a Sunday school teacher. The judge was Theodore Owens, a sixty-eight-year old Republican from Mississippi. He was often selected in drug cases and had a reputation for giving the maximum sentence allowed.

  Mark sat behind the prosecutor’s table. Dawg, along with his attorney, sat at a table adjacent to the prosecution. His mother, Patricia Davis, was a light-skinned, heavyset woman with a natural haircut. His attorney, Michael Conner, was very capable and wellrespected in the legal community. Two weeks after Dawg’s indictment was issued, Michael had negotiated a ten-year plea agreement, which Dawg quickly declined, a move that made absolutely no sense to Mark. Now the stakes were higher, and today Michael would have to fight for Dawg’s life.

  Once the trial began the prosecution began an all-out attack. Their witnesses included Ruff, Mark, and a car salesman. Jennifer was testifying in exchange for a reduced sentence. Mark was later called to the witness stand to testify about five ki
los of cocaine that Dawg had sold him. A car salesman testified that Dawg made a large cash down payment on a Mercedes. All the testimony corroborated, and great details were given about the money and the cocaine with which Dawg had been associated. The next day the prosecution called a surprise witness, Psycho, an inmate from Dawg’s cellblock.

  “What the hell is he doing in here?” Dawg shouted. “I need order in this court,” Judge Owens demanded. He slammed his gavel hard and peered down over his glasses. “Mr. Conner, you need to talk to your client about how to conduct himself in my courtroom.”

  Michael turned to Dawg. “Listen, we don’t want to upset this judge. You need to get a hold of yourself.”

  “I just want to know why in the hell is this guy on the witness stand.”

  “Do you know this guy?”

  “Yeah, he is in my cellblock.”

  “Let’s just see what he has to say,” Michael said before apologizing to the judge for Dawg’s outburst.

  For the next forty-five minutes, Psycho testified that Dawg had told him about trips to California to pick up large sums of drugs. He said Dawg told him about large quantities of money that he and Jamal had made weeks before the arrest. He ended his testimony by telling the jury about thousands of dollars Dawg had allegedly spent on cars, women, and jewelry.

  After four days of testimony and rebuttal, the trial ended. It took the jury only thirty-eight minutes to return with a verdict. The judge asked everyone to rise. The jury foreman, a middleaged white man with a large brown birthmark on his balding forehead, was then instructed by the judge to announce the verdict. “We the jury find Steven Davis guilty as charged as to count one, guilty as charged as to count two; and guilty as charged as to count three.”

  Mark had mixed emotions about the verdict. He was happy that he had been effective in doing his job, but at the same time; he was sad that another black mother would lose her son to the prison system. He glanced over at Dawg who was hugging his mother tightly as she wept.

  The sentencing would be put off for another six weeks, and again, Mark would have to be present to see Dawg and his mother.

  *** Jamal and Dream were on the way to his apartment when he had received a call on his cell phone from Thomas Henry. He listened in silence as Dream drove. A huge frown suddenly covered Jamal’s face as he absorbed the bad news.

  “What’s wrong?” Dream asked.

  “My lawyer just received information that Dawg was found guilty and that the grand jury is scheduled to meet in a couple of weeks. My phone records and my credit report have been subpoenaed. He said it was quite likely that Angelo and I will be indicted soon.”

  “What does that mean for us?” Dream asked.

  “It means the marriage is off. I’ve got other things to worry about—like, my ass,” Jamal said, without looking at her.

  “Is your attorney sure that the grand jury is going to try to indict you?” Dream had already assumed that she and Jamal would never get married. Her plan of an extravagant, beautiful church wedding was simply a dream.

  “He’s never lied before,” Jamal replied. His attorney had worked with a lot people in the prosecutor’s office. Thomas was connected, and he could find out about any ongoing investigation.

  “So what are you gonna do?”

  “I need to get some of my things out of the apartment. I can’t stay there anymore.”

  When they arrived at his condo, Jamal quickly gathered some clothes and personal belongings.

  “So where are you going tonight?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, glancing at her briefly before shoving some of his belongings into several laundry bags.

  “Do you think it’s necessary to leave tonight?”

  “Yeah. The last time they got my ass, it was about four in the morning. The Feds are some sneaky mu’fuckas,” he said.

  Twenty-five minutes later they rode without saying a word to each other. The CD player was barely audible. Dream didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what to do. She had never experienced anything quite like this before. She didn’t want Jamal to go to prison, but she had made up her mind that she was not going with him. She felt she had already been involved with his criminal activities a little too much. She had dealt with criminals before, but only petty ones. Jamal was in a class by himself, and she loved him.

  “So you really don’t know where you are going, huh?”

  Jamal adjusted his seat and leaned back. “Not right now. But I know I will probably end up on one of the Caribbean Islands.”

  “You’re just gonna live the rest of your life running? How long do you think you can do that?”

  “ I have a phony birth certificate and Social Security number. After I get a new passport I think I’ll be set,” he replied. He felt comfortable telling Dream his plans. He didn’t feel she would ever tell anyone.

  They pulled into a CVS drugstore. Jamal needed razors to shave his head. Andre Von would be a bald guy with a clean-shaven face.

  After exiting the store, Jamal heard someone call out his name. He turned and met Patricia Davis, Dawg’s mother. He had only seen her twice since he had gotten out of prison. “Hey, Ma,” Jamal said as he hugged his friend’s mother. Her eyes were red and puffy.

  “I guess you heard about Steven, huh?” she said softly.

  Jamal felt remorseful about his friend being locked up, even though he knew Dawg’s mother wasn’t accusing him of having anything to do with it. It didn’t feel right to him that he was free and Dawg was locked up. “Yeah, I heard about him,” Jamal said, before dropping his head.

  “We just gotta keep the faith. It’s cloudy right now with my son locked up like an animal, but I know the Lord is gonna bring us some sunshine. Just like after your mama got killed. It was cloudy for a while. We didn’t think we were going to make it, but we did.”

  Jamal raised his head. “What did you just say?” His voice was thick with emotion.

  “I said right after your mama was killed, we didn’t think we were going to make it but we did.”

  “My mama was killed?” Jamal asked, looking her directly in her eyes.

  “Oh, my God,” Mrs. Davis said, covering her mouth. “You didn’t know that your mama had been killed, did you, baby?”

  Jamal’s mouth flew open. His lips went dry, and his eyes became misty. “How was my mama killed?”

  “I’m sorry, Jamal. I’m really sorry, baby.” She grabbed him around his shoulders.

  “How was she killed?” Jamal demanded as he stepped away from her grip.

  “Your mama was killed in a fire. She burned up in an abandoned house trying to keep warm. I’m sorry, baby, I really am. I told Steven to tell you. I guess he didn’t know what or how to say it.” Her voice was sincere.

  Jamal dropped his shopping bag and stared at the ground. His only flesh and blood was gone and he had lost his best friend to the judicial system. He had met the love of his life and now he had to leave her. The possibility of being HIV positive haunted him. For the first time he didn’t have any direction. Patricia grabbed his hand and took him in her arms again. “It’s gonna be okay, baby. The Lord is on our side.” She patted him on the back lightly.

  Jamal lowered his head before kissing her on the cheek. He pulled ten-1-hundred-dollar bills from his wallet and gave them to her. “Make sure Dawg has money while he’s downtown in the jail.” They hugged. He gathered his shopping bag and walked slowly to his Mercedes. The night air chapped his already dry lips, and the dashing sounds of the traffic in front of the store grew louder. Car brakes screeched and sirens from far away rang out. The world and the people in it were busy. In no way slowing down, the world had moved on, without Mary Stewart. Sixteen steps seemed like a ten-minute walk, but he finally arrived at his car.

  “I saw you with that lady. What was that all about?” Dream said.

  Tears rolled down Jamal’s face. “That was Dawg’s mother. She just told me my mother was killed in a fire.”

  Dream turned f
rom his gaze without responding.

  “Did you hear me?”

  “Yeah, I heard,” she said in a barely audible voice.

  Jamal reclined his seat and covered his face with his hand. “I guess you just don’t give a flying fuck, huh?”

  Dream leaned into him, putting her head on his midsection. “Baby, you know that’s not true. It’s just . . . ”

  He sat up and they made eye contact. “What were you about to say?”

  She turned away and noticed Dawg’s mother pulling out of the parking lot in a silver Pontiac. “I already knew your mother had been killed. The private eye that Keisha knows found out.”

  “Why in the hell didn’t you say something to me?” he yelled.

  She didn’t know what to say. She felt horrible for hiding the truth; she simply had not known how to tell him. “So much was going on with Dawg’s trial and everything. I didn’t think you needed something else to worry about.”

  He grabbed her arm and made her face him. “You didn’t want to worry me? We are talking about my mother here. This ain’t something that could have waited. Didn’t you think I should know?”

  “Baby, I’m sorry. I should have told you. But put yourself in my position and tell me what you would have done. Your boy, Dawg, must have known for years, and he didn’t tell you. So I’m not the only one who couldn’t find the words.”

  Jamal placed his head on the steering wheel and sobbed. “I ain’t got nobody now. Dawg is going to prison for probably the rest of his life, and my mother is gone. To make matters worse, the Feds are trying to send me to prison, too.”

  Dream patted his back while he sobbed. Finally when she saw that he wasn’t able to drive, she took the wheel, and Jamal sat on the passenger side. He reclined with his arm across his face. His crying was unbearable. Dream had never seen a grown man cry like Jamal, but she had not lost one of her parents either.

  CHAPTER 24

  W HEN DREAM PULLED UP in front of her apartment building it was only 8:00 P.M. She glanced over to see if Jamal was okay. He was silent.

  “Jamal, are you gonna be alright?”

  He sat up and lit a cigar. “I’m okay. I just had to get myself together.”