Abuse of Discretion

by Pamela Samuels Young

  CHAPTER 39

  Apache

  From everything I can tell, my plan is coming together like clockwork. Dre is constantly on my ass, wanting me to snap my fingers and make everything happen as of yesterday. That’s not how it works. This mission requires plotting and patience.

  He freaked out like a mug when I told him I saw that dude’s Lincoln in the Craps parking lot. Not only that, I actually saw the well-dressed dude talking to the guy I caught casing Brianna’s house. Now we got some peeps watching Angela too.

  I park my Benz in front of Special Touch Beauty Salon on Manchester Boulevard and hop out. This is the last piece of my plan and the most important.

  I have an appointment with LaRhonda, Blaze’s woman. If anybody’ll know if Blaze got the word, she will. I see her at a booth near the back of the salon. I ain’t never had my hair done in a beauty shop before. But I gotta do what I gotta do for my cuz.

  My hair is usually in a long braid, but today it’s hanging loose down my back. Every sista in the joint is checking me out. I’m a good-looking dude, but I know they’re looking at my hair, not me.

  LaRhonda’s wearing a crooked grin as I approach her booth. “Are you my two o’clock appointment?”

  “Yep. I’m here for a conditioner and a hot oil treatment.”

  She starts running her fingers through my hair before I’m even settled good in her chair. “Boy, where you get all this gorgeous hair from?”

  “My great-grandmother was a full-blooded Apache.”

  “I gotta hurry up and get you outta here. Some of these heffas might try to scalp you for a new weave.”

  She leads me to the shampoo bowl and we start an easy conversation.

  “So, you said on the phone that you know Blaze.”

  “Yeah. Everybody know Blaze. How’s he doing?”

  “Making it the best he can. I visited him last weekend.”

  “I heard you was still down with him. I wish I could find a woman as true-blue as you.”

  LaRhonda smiles.

  “Is what they saying on the street about the dude who took his daughter true?”

  She stops massaging my head and looks down at me. “You heard it too?”

  “Yep.”

  LaRhonda shakes her head. “That girl was Blaze’s heart. Had a good head on her shoulders too. When she first went missing, we had everybody looking for her. We figured she might’ve been trafficked, but we didn’t know for sure. About three months later, they found her in a crack house off Figueroa with a heroin needle stuck in her arm. I was the one who had to tell Blaze. When I did, it was like he died too.”

  “They say it was one of The Shepherd’s dudes who snatched her and turned her out. Is that true?”

  LaRhonda nods. “That’s the word on the street.”

  “Does Blaze know?”

  “When I saw him last week, I told him about what I’d heard, but some guys on the inside had already told him.”

  “That’s crazy. So what’s he gonna do about it?”

  A hint of a smile tinges her lips. “What can he do? He’s in prison. So is The Shepherd.”

  I don’t say nothing and neither does she. LaRhonda’s been Blaze’s woman all this time because she knows how to keep her mouth shut.

  “But if I was The Shepherd,” she continues, “I’d be worried. Bars or no bars.”

  That’s all I need to hear. Everything is in motion.

  I settle back, close my eyes, and enjoy my head massage.

  CHAPTER 40

  Graylin

  As one of the staff leads me to the attorney meeting room, I can hardly walk. My legs feel as flimsy as a bowl of Ramen noodles. I know Ms. Angela and Ms. Jenny won’t agree with what I have to say, but this is my case and my life. So I’m going to do this my way.

  When I enter the room and see my dad, I freeze.

  “Hey, Little Man.” My dad pulls me into a bear hug. “Angela got special permission for me to visit you today.”

  I’m not sure I can do this with my dad present. At least he’s in a good mood. For now.

  “Have a seat, Graylin.” Ms. Jenny pulls out a chair for me. “We wanted to meet with you and your father to prepare you for the fitness hearing.”

  I suddenly have a headache. Probably because of what I have to do.

  “During a fitness hearing,” Ms. Jenny says, “the prosecutor has to prove that you can’t be rehabilitated by the juvenile system. And if you can’t, your case will be transferred to adult court.”

  I peer over at my dad. He looks as puzzled as I am.

  “So how do they figure that out?” my dad asks.

  “The judge will look at things like the type of crime, the child’s criminal history, the potential for the child to improve and the seriousness of the crime. It’s all about whether the judge thinks the kid is such a hopeless case, that he should be treated like an adult.”

  “Why do I need to be rehabilitated when I didn’t do anything in the first place?” I ask, but nobody answers my question.

  “That sounds like a piece of cake for us then.” My dad is acting so happy. “My son’s not some thug.”

  “Nothing is a piece of cake where the legal system is concerned,” Ms. Jenny says, then glances at Ms. Angela as if it’s her turn to speak. There’s a short pause before she does.

  “There’s something else we need to advise you of,” Ms. Angela says, mainly to my dad. “If Graylin is convicted on the pornography charges, be it juvenile or adult court, he’ll have to register as a sex offender.”

  Sex offender? “What does that mean?” I ask.

  My dad’s not happy anymore. His face is all scrunched up. “It means they’re saying you’re a pedophile, which is bullshit!”

  I don’t know what a pedophile is either.

  Ms. Angela turns to me. “Registering as a sex offender means you’ll have to comply with certain requirements. For instance, every year, you have to advise local law enforcement of your address, where you go to school and where you work, so they can keep track of you at all times. You also have to provide your DNA.”

  “And don’t it mean he can’t even be alone around kids?” my dad says angrily.

  All of this is confusing. How can I not be around other kids when I’m a kid myself? “Why would they want to keep track of me like that?”

  My dad doesn’t let Ms. Angela answer my question.

  “So they can publish your name on a list of perverts!” I can see the veins in his forehead popping out. “Anybody can go on a computer and look at the list. So no college is going to accept you and nobody’s going to rent you an apartment and no company is ever going to hire you because people don’t want to work with a pervert. So what it really means is that you’re screwed for life.” My dad lowers his head and wipes his hand down his face.

  I wait for Ms. Angela and Ms. Jenny to say my dad is overreacting, but they don’t.

  I can’t believe this. “Just because I saved Kennedy’s picture on my phone?”

  Ms. Angela nods.

  “How long will I have to be a sex offender?”

  Ms. Angela looks away.

  “Forever,” Ms. Jenny says.

  My dad starts bouncing his knee up and down like I do when I get nervous or upset. “That’s nuts! He’s only fourteen. Every day it feels like we’re walking deeper and deeper into a nightmare.”

  “This is only if there’s a conviction,” Jenny says, trying to make it sound like it’s not a big deal. “Even if he’s convicted, we might be able to get his record expunged if he doesn’t get into trouble again. But you can only apply for that seven years after a conviction.”

  “Thanks,” my dad says. “Now we have something to look forward to.”

  I still don’t understand why anyone would do this to a kid just for having a nake
d picture. How can they convict me for something I didn’t even know was against the law?

  “We’re going to fight this fitness hearing with everything we’ve got,” Ms. Jenny says.

  I take a deep breath and blurt out, “I don’t want to fight it.”

  A puzzled look glazes my dad’s face. “What? What’re you talking about? Of course you do.”

  I try to remember everything Little Slice told me. “In juvie court, kids get convicted ninety-nine percent of the time because a judge decides everything. It’s better for me to be in adult court because I get to have a jury. I’ll only need one juror to believe me and I can get a hung jury and get off.”

  My dad is staring at me so hard I can almost feel his gaze touch my cheek. “What? That’s crazy. We ain’t taking that kind of chance.”

  “Little Slice said—”

  “Don’t you mention that fool’s name to me again!” my dad yells. “That thug’s got you in enough trouble. Don’t you understand that?”

  Ms. Angela holds up her hands. “Gus, please calm down. Shouting at him isn’t helping the situation.”

  I’m glad Ms. Angela’s on my side, so I focus only on her. My words gush out like a flood. “I want to take my chances in adult court. I want a jury. And in adult court I can also get out on bail.”

  My dad ignores Ms. Angela. “Boy, you don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  “Little Slice told me you would try to talk me out of it. But this is my life and this is what I want to do.”

  My dad’s eyes are about to pop out of his head. “Boy, I’ll—”

  Ms. Jenny stands up. “Gus, let’s take a breather and hear Graylin out.”

  “Hear him out, my ass! This boy is talking nonsense and you need to tell him that. If I have to knock some sense into him, I will.”

  I don’t look at my dad. I’m trying to find the courage to do something else Little Slice told me to do, but the words are stuck in my throat.

  “Let’s discuss the pros and cons with Graylin,” Ms. Jenny says, “and then—”

  “Lady,” my dad barks, “are you out of your friggin’ mind! There ain’t no pros to this!”

  My stomach feels like it’s full of bricks. What I’m about to say next is really going to make my dad have a meltdown. But I don’t have any other choice.

  I swallow hard, then blurt out, “I want to talk to my attorneys alone.”

  My dad jumps to his feet and leans over me. His face is so twisted up he looks like a monster. “I ain’t going nowhere! You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about! I’m here to protect your stupid ass!”

  I turn to Ms. Jenny. “You told me in the beginning that I’m the client and that I get to make the decisions about my case. So that’s what I’m doing.” I stop and take a deep breath. “I want a private meeting with my attorneys.”

  “Boy, I’ll—”

  Ms. Angela grabs my dad’s arm and pulls him across the room. “Gus, just give us a few minutes to talk to him alone. We’ll work this out.”

  My dad acts like he didn’t hear her. “What’s wrong with you? Have you lost your mind? I want you to stay away from this Slice fool. He’s filling your head with nonsense.” He sneers at Ms. Jenny. “This is not my child. He’s never been disrespectful like this. You need to get him out of this place!”

  I stare down at the floor, too scared to look up at my dad.

  “Gus, please.” Ms. Angela is begging him now. “Step outside for a minute and let us talk to Graylin.”

  My dad jerks the doorknob so hard the window rattles. As soon as he’s gone, I can breathe again.

  Ms. Jenny starts to say something, but I cut her off. I don’t want to hear what my attorneys have to say either.

  “Don’t invite my dad to our meetings anymore,” I tell them. “I want to be tried as an adult so I can have a jury. And no matter what you say, I’m not going to change my mind.”

  CHAPTER 41

  Angela

  It takes some doing, but we finally convince Gus to go home and let us talk to Graylin alone. Jenny and I spend another hour with him, but he won’t budge.

  “But Graylin, if you’re convicted,” I say, “you could end up doing more time. You can’t take that risk.”

  “It’s not a risk because I’m not going to get convicted. All you have to do is get one juror to believe me and I’ll get a hung jury.”

  I close my eyes and try to clear my head. This entire conversation is unnecessary. There’s no way the judge would send a kid with Graylin’s spotless record to adult court.

  “We want you to sleep on this, Graylin,” Jenny says. “We’ll talk to you again tomorrow.”

  “I’m not going to change my mind.”

  Jenny pats him on the back. “That’s fine. We’ll still talk tomorrow.”

  After a staff member escorts Graylin back to his unit, I stand up and press my forehead against the wall.

  “Having an adult client who won’t accept my legal advice is one thing,” I say. “But having to wrestle with this naïve child who doesn’t understand that he could be throwing his life away scares me to death.”

  “I think he’s a very gutsy little guy,” Jenny says.

  I spin around. “What? How can you say that?”

  “He’s right about the juvenile system. A lot of judges are so jaded they think a kid is guilty as charged even before he walks into the courtroom. And with Martinez piling on the charges and Kennedy’s parents pushing the way they are, he doesn’t have much of a chance.”

  I can’t possibly be hearing her correctly. “So what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying he does have a better chance in the adult system. Even on the possession charge.”

  “Are you nuts?”

  “There’ll certainly be a few parents on his jury. They’re going to look at Graylin’s record and see that he’s a good kid. They’re going to see their kids in him and it’s going to scare the heck out of them because under the same circumstance, their kid would’ve done the same thing he did.”

  “No way. It’s too much of a risk. If his case is transferred to adult court, we might as well walk him over to juvie prison right now.”

  “I hear you’re an amazing attorney. Adult court is your domain. I think you can get him off.”

  “He can’t win on the possession charge. He had the picture on his phone. How can I get him off?”

  She smiles and waits a beat. “Jury nullification. No matter what the law says, no jury will want to lock up a great kid like Graylin just for saving a picture on his phone.”

  “Have you lost your mind? That’s a complete crapshoot.”

  “Parents have no idea prosecutors are going after kids like this. The jury will be outraged. All he needs is one juror to go his way and he walks.”

  “It’s fine for you to propose all these what-ifs, but if Graylin was your kid, I doubt you’d be supporting this.”

  “Whether he’s in juvenile court or adult court, the stakes are the same,” Jenny says. “If he’s convicted, he’s going to have to register as a sex offender for the rest of his life. He has a better shot in adult court because I don’t think the prosecutor can find twelve people willing to convict him.”

  I cup my forehead. “If they think he took that picture, they’ll convict him.”

  “But he didn’t take the picture and the prosecution won’t be able to prove that he did.”

  “You can’t say that. We don’t know what evidence they have.”

  Jenny rears back. “Are you saying you think he took it?”

  “No. But I’ve been practicing law long enough to know that just because somebody’s innocent doesn’t mean they won’t be convicted.”

  “I know this is a very scary roll of the dice,” Jenny insists, “but at least there’s a chance.”

/>   “No way. What Graylin wants to do is crazy, and his father agrees. So we’re going to fight like hell at that fitness hearing.”

  “Gus isn’t the deciding factor here. Graylin’s our client, not Gus.”

  “Graylin’s a naïve kid who thinks life is fair. I’m not letting him destroy his life.”

  Jenny reaches for her satchel, pulls out a book and starts flipping pages. “The juvenile court rules are crystal clear on this.” She has the audacity to start reading to me like I’m a first-year law student.

  Role of counsel: An attorney’s ethical allegiance is to the child and not to the parent or guardian paying you for representation. Parents are not allowed to waive rights for their children since they may have conflicting interests. Parents need not be present when lawyers interview clients and cannot be present if the child objects. The lawyer is ethically required to present the child’s position to the court.

  She slams the book on the desk in front of me.

  “Screw the rules!” I say. “Graylin’s a fourteen-year-old kid who’s getting bad advice from some fool in juvenile hall. It’s our job to do what’s best for him, regardless of what he wants.”

  “Did you just hear what I read? It’s our job to follow our client’s wishes.”

  “You’re talking theory. I’m talking real world. A jury might be hesitant to lock up a fourteen-year-old white kid, but it’s a different ball game for a black kid. And I’m not taking that kind of chance. The stakes are way too high.”

  A curtain of red inches up Jenny’s neck. “So you’re making this a race thing?”

  “No, I’m making this a reality thing.”

  Both of us are so worked up we have to pause to catch our breaths.

  “Just so I’m clear,” I say, “are you telling me you’re not going to fight to keep Graylin in juvenile court?”

  Jenny’s hands are gripping her narrow hips and she’s sneering at me. “I’m going to do what my client asks me to do.”

  “If you’re not going to do what’s best for Graylin, he may not be your client anymore.”