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Chapters 22,23,24, and the end, Chapter 25

2007-10-28T13:48:00.000-07:00

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Chapter Twenty-Two: Help Comes

The ride home from Jimmy’s visit was non eventful. Jerld told Mr. B. that Jimmy would put him on his visitors list and that he also wanted to add Mrs. Wells. That was met with a questionable look by Mr. B. so Jerld decided it wouldn’t hurt to tell Mr. B. all about the relationship that had developed between the two of them. After he had finished telling all about the cooking lessons and the Soaps, Mr. B. broke out into a big grin.
“Good for him, Jimmy needed another friend to confide in and enjoy their company. It’s a shame this had to happen to Jimmy now, because he might have enjoyed a new career as a cook. We could have used him in the kitchen at the hotel.”
Jerld had to smile he just couldn’t picture Jimmy in an apron let alone one of those tall white hats.
By time Jerld had finished telling Mr. B. about Jimmy and Mrs. Wells they were pulling into their driveway.
Mr. B. got out of the car and turned to look Jerld straight in the eyes.
“Jerld, the girls are going to have a lot of questions, just answer those that you feel comfortable with. They will understand.” Jerld nodded.
Rose was standing just inside the front door, with a smile she said: “My world travelers are home, and dinner is on the table, let’s go sit.”

As usual Rose had set a table fit for a king. She had prepared everything that Jerld had said he liked, fried chicken, broasted potatoes, navy bean soup and all of the trimmings. To top it all, in the center of the table there was a large basket filled with fresh baked bread.”
The smell of the meal would perk up anyone’s spirits, and the sweet warm smell of the fresh baked bread reminded him of his mother’s apron. When he was very young, barely yet able to walk, he would hide in the folds of his mother’s apron while she mixed the dough and baked their daily bread. That apron was his security blanket and his place of comfort in the run down apartments that they had to live in. It covered up all the smell of housing project living. The urine soaked hallways, the marijuana odors that drifted out from under many of the apartment doors. Most of all her apron was his protector from all of the illegal temptations that beckoned him as he grew up. Now he wished he could relive most of those years and sadly he understood that would not and could not ever happen.
Everyone around the table was devouring the food set out before them. The only sound that was being repeated was that of food being consumed. Every once in a while someone would raise their head long enough to say: “Pass the chicken,” or whatever else that had disappeared from their plate.

The tinkle of the forks against the plates was slowing down and the last bit of gravy was being daintily sopped up. Jimmy or the day’s trip had not yet been mentioned. Jerld knew that the questioning was to come and he had mentally prepared himself for that time.
Of course Olivia would be the first to break down the verbal fence that seemed to surround the table.
“Jerld why is Jimmy in jail?” Short and to the point that was Lig.
Jerld took a deep breath and began: “Jimmy is being held right now for a theft of a car. It wasn’t really stolen but was supposed to be lent to us by a female friend of ours. Jimmy and I had a guy chasing us who was trying to kill us.”
The girls gasped and Rose lowered her head and started to wipe her nose.
Mr. B. interrupted: “I have told Jerld that he doesn’t have to tell us any thing that he doesn’t want too. Whatever his chooses to tell us is to remain in confidence no matter what it is.
We are family and we will do whatever we can to help Jerld and Jimmy out of this situation. Go ahead Jerld.”
Jerld continued: “Jimmy and I have been dealing drugs for the last couple of years.

I know that it was not the right thing to do but we both had left school when we were in the ninth grade, and there aren’t many jobs in Gary for anyone, let alone two young black kids, since the mills began cutting back. We weren’t big dealers, but it did give us our spending money and where we come from dealing and prostitution is a way of life. The money’ was good and it beats begging on the streets.”
Johanna and Kaylee sat with their hands folded in their laps listening to every word. Lig had both elbows on the table and was cupping her chin. She sat enthralled by what Jerld was saying. Looking at Jerld she asked: “Did you make thousands of dollars?”
Rose looked up and said: “Olivia let Jerld talk.”
Mr. B. sat as if he was just being told what he already knew. He didn’t smile, he didn’t frown, he just sat and stared at the now half empty basket of bread.
“Continue Jerld” Mr. B. instructed.
“No Lig we weren’t making thousands of dollars.” Jerld answered.
“We were dealing for a dude they called Ronnie K. He would give us the dope and we would split the profit, with him getting the biggest share. We didn’t know or care where he was getting it as long as he treated us right.”
“One day we had run out of dope and did the stupidest thing.

We went to his pad with out calling first and his supplier was there.”
“We knew we were in trouble the minute we saw the three white honkys in suites. The place where Ronnie K. flopped was not a place to go if you were white unless you had business with Ronnie. He had a fortress guarded by his army of kid killers.”
Again there was a gasp and Kaylee looked up and asked: “He had people who killed young children as his guards?”
Jerld looked around the table: “No these were kids between the ages of six too twelve years old that he had trained to shoot anyone or anything that he told them to. This is quite common in the drug world. If a kid kills someone in Lake County the chances are he will at the very most have to serve time until he is eighteen years old, and the majority of that time he will serve it in a juvenile detention center.”
“Even little girls of that age were sometimes used as barter; some doper who needed a fix would trade his young daughter to a drug pusher to use and abuse for some dope.”
Then the kid will become a pusher for the dealer. If the little girl gets caught there is a good chance that she won’t even have to go to a detention center.”

“The courts will feel sorry for the poor little girl and will just put her in a foster home. Some of the best dope runners and pushers haven’t seen their thirteenth birthday yet.”
“What’s a runner?” Olivia asked.”
“It’s a person who only delivers dope for a dealer. Kids make the best runners because they are too scared of the dealer to steal any of the money or dope they are delivering. Anyone who is strung out on any kind of dope can not be trusted to deliver it and not cut the bag or keep part of the money.” Jerld answered.
Again Olivia piped up: “What kind of drugs or dope did you and Jimmy sell, Jerld?”
Mr. B. interrupted: “Never mind that Olivia, please continue Jerld”
“The minute we saw the three white guys we knew they were Ronnie K’s suppliers. We waited a few minutes after they had left, when one of his kid killers came out and started shooting at us. We took off and ran.”
“In Gary if someone is looking for you, a few dollars put out on the street, will get everyone looking for you.” “We made arrangements to have a girl we knew meet us and bring us some money. Instead she told Ronnie K. and he sent one of his hit men to take care of us.”

“When they got there we found out we had been set up and a shooting took place and the hit man, Nads, was killed. We ran taking the girl’s car and wrecked it south of Gary and were arrested for fleeing the police and resisting arrest. We had thought we were being chased by some more of Ronnie K’s killers and had no idea it was the police.”
“We bonded out with the money the girl had brought us and that is how we ended up here.”
There was total silence at the table. Mr. B. still sat looking straight ahead and Rose, Johanna and Kaylee didn’t move.
Olivia, who still had her head cupped in both hands, looked up and said: “Jerld, you and Jimmy didn’t have a choice it was either kill or be killed and the police should understand that.”
Mr. B. stood up and said: “Jerld that’s enough for this evening, we have to get back to work in the morning.”
“Tomorrow morning at breakfast we will discuss where we go from here. Now everyone remember this stays at this table. Now everyone lets go to bed.”
Jerld couldn’t believe what he had just done. He had emptied his soul and now he was questioning if what he had done was smart. If he was going to trust anyone with his life he felt, it was Mr. B. and family.

Jerld went up to bed and for some strange reason he thought he heard Jimmy talking to him, “It’s Ok, Jerld I’ve got your back covered, remember we do everything together.”
Jerld closed his eyes thinking of all the good times Jimmy and he had enjoyed, he slept well.
Everyone was already sitting at the table when Jerld got there. There were no happy “Good Mornings” and the meal just didn’t look as appetizing as it usually did. All the same foods were there and the quantity had not changed. But this was a meeting, not a breakfast to be enjoyed.
“Jerld,” Mr. B. started off: “Rose and I have discussed your situation and we want you to stay here with us until this mess is all taken care of. We are not sure of what is best direction to follow at this time.”
“So we are going to pray for some guidance and hope that God will lead all of us in the way that is best for everyone. We will do our best to just carry-on with our lives until we know what God wants us to do.”
In a voice that would make the dead take notice Mr. B. said: “This matter will not be discussed with anyone outside of our family, am I understood?”
Everyone nodded their heads yes and to Jerld’s surprise so did he.

“Jerld its time we went to work and you must carry on as best you can so no one will in anyway will assume you are involved in Jimmy’s problem. Let’s get to the car before we are late.” With that M. B. got up and walked out the door.
The morning ride to work was accompanied by the usual gospel music.
Mr. B. did not sing as he usually did, but any conversation they had on that morning’s ride to work was devoid of any reference to Jimmy or his arrest.
When they got to work Mr. B. said to Clarence: “Jerld will be working the third floor alone, if he needs help I would appreciate it if you would see that he gets it.”
Clarence said: “Yes Sir.”
Jerld was impressed that there was no questioning about where or what happened to Jimmy. If Mr. B. wanted Clarence to know he would have told him. Since he did not, Clarence accepted that without any further explanations.
Jerld went up to his office and when he walked in the first thing he saw was the message light blinking.
He picked it up and heard Mrs. Wells voice. She seemed concerned as she said: “Jimmy or Jerld please come see me as soon as you get in.”

Jerld check his other messages and none were of importance. He decided he would go get Mrs. Leslie’s paper then go see Mrs. Wells.
When Jerld reached Mrs. Wells’ door he was a little hesitant to knock, but he did.
Mrs. Wells voice called out; “The doors open come in.” When Jerld walked Mrs. Wells was dressed in her usual white terry sweat suit. It clung to her body as if it had so much static electricity in it, that it was being absorbed by her golden brown skin. Jerld could see the disappointment in her face as she asked: “Jimmy is not in today?”
Jerld decide to get the unpleasant task of telling her about Jimmy over right away.
He said: “No Ma’am, Jimmy probably won’t be around here any more.”
The color drained out of her face and she grabbed at her chest and said: “Oh my God, he is OK isn’t he, was he in some sort of accident?” Sitting down on the white tufted couch she patted the space beside her and said: “Come sit, tell me what has happened to my dear sweet Jimmy.”
Jerld decided that since Jimmy trusted and had shown a great deal of care for this woman.

He would tell her as much as he thought she could handle with out destroying her and Jimmy’s relationship. As Jerld started to talk he could see a complete change coming over this pleasant devil may care woman. She only stopped him once as he was unloading the entire situation from beginning to end. That was when he was telling her of the hardships that Jimmy had had while growing up in Gary.
She asked: “Does Jimmy have a father and mother and are they poor. “
Jerld responded with; “He has never known his father and his mother is a prostitute working the streets and bars in Gary.” She nodded and Jerld continued. When he had finished he saw a completely different woman sitting next to him.
She said: “Jerld don’t worry I will get Jimmy and you if you need one, the best lawyers money can buy. You are the result of a society that is prevalent in towns and cities like Gary. It isn’t your fault that you both had to grow up in an atmosphere of despair, distrust and a depressive social surrounding. I came from that type of environment and I know what it’s like and what it can do to you. Jerld leave this in my hands and we will see what we can do.”
Jerld could see the anger in her eyes and hear it in her voice.

There was no doubt that this was not a women who just got her kicks out of being eye candy for any male from sixteen to sixty.
“Jerld I want you to contact Mr. B. and please have him here at three o’clock to meet with you and I and my lawyers. Please go now I have a lot I must do before then.” With that she excused her self and walked over and picked up a gold colored phone. Jerld left.
Jerld had told Mr. B. of the scheduled meeting and as he was leaving his office, Mr. B. said: “Jerld you have done something terribly wrong, and God is the only one who can judge you and Jimmy on the righteousness of your actions. What you do from this day on will have a lasting affect on both of your lives.”
“Whenever you are required to answer questions about these actions think carefully about everything you say and who you are saying it to. Remember justice is not always interested in finding out the truth. Many times it is more interested in expediency then the factual discovery of the truth.”
Jerld paused at the door and said: “Mr. B., whatever happens I want you to know that living with you and your family has been one of the most enjoyable times of my life. I only wish Jimmy and I had this opportunity several years ago, we probably would not be in the situation we now are in.”

As Jerld turned to leave he saw a slight watery glaze come to Mr. B.’s eyes. Jerld’s eyes also begin to water and he bowed his head so no one could see. Tears were not acceptable on the streets of Gary where he grew up.

Chapter Twenty-Three: The Trial Team is Assembled
Jerld and Mr. B. were standing at Mrs. Wells’ door as the big hand on the hallway clock begin its slow pass over the number twelve. Mr. B. had rang the apartment doorbell and they were waiting for a response.
The door opened and there stood a woman that Mr. B. and Jerld had never seen before. She had a skin color that could only be described as golden mahogany. It was as if God could not decide if she was to be born a red, black or white woman, so he combined all three. Her hair, what you could see of it, was silver. It was pulled back so tight against her temples that only from the back could you see that it had any body to it at all. To Jerld it looked like she was dressed in a dark blue man’s suit that had very fine vertical gold stripes spaced every have inch covering the entire suit jacket. As Jerld let his eyes drift downward he then noticed that the bottom of the coat did not meet with finely tailored pants as most men’s suits do, but started the cascade of a matching skirt that flowed to the floor as if it was a beautiful drape meant only for the finest windows.
To Jerld this was not a woman you would talk with, but was a window mannequin meant only to be stared at.
The window women spoke: “”Good Mr. B., I am glad you and Jerld were able to meet with me.

Please come in, I have someone I would like you to meet.”
To Jerld the voice was somewhat familiar, but he just could not place it. As the nicely dressed mannequin turned to walk away her hand full of diamond rings caught Jerld’s eye. Mrs. Wells, he thought this is Mrs. Wells. At that moment he realized that this was the first time he had ever seen her dressed in anything other then her white sweats, or in some stage of undress. Usually her beautiful hair was cascading down to her shoulders in tight little silver curls. He marveled at the way she looked, so business like and confident in herself and her purpose.
“Mr. Bailey, she said, I would like to introduce you and Jerld to my legal staff.” Pointing towards the two men and a woman, sitting on the white couch. It was a strange looking trio.
The first man sitting the closest to them looked as if he was possibly in his seventies. He had graying hair that curled over his ears and the frayed collar of his pale blue shirt. It was obvious that the suit that hung on his body had hung there for a few days; maybe it had been worn for a month, a year, or forever. It was impossible to tell.
The wrinkles on his jacket had wrinkles, and the only creases in his pants were the ones worn thin covering his now bent knees. The suit, in its better days, would not have been on the good rack in any clothing store.

The one thing that made you look twice was his tiepin. It was huge for a tie stickpin, about the size of a half dollar, and a very bright gold colored. It was a statue of blind folded woman wearing a long dress that hung to the ground. In her right hand she held a sword that pointing to the ground. In her left hand was an old scale, one like Jerld had seen in the fruit stand where he had worked as a kid. Jerld recognized this as being something like the plaque he had seen hanging on the wall in the lobby of the jail that he had just visited the day before. What was different with this one was that from both scale trays you could clearly see money falling into a large pile at the statue’s feet. The statue had a grin on her face that went from ear to ear.
The man sitting in the middle of the couch was black. Coming from Gary Jerld had seen many different degrees of black skin. Some blacks had a complexion that could pass for white, then there were others so dark they could not be seen at all on a moonless night. This man had the darkest skin color that Jerld had ever seen; it appeared to be as black as ebony wood.
His face was blank, no expression or sign of recognition could be seen. There was not a wrinkle, a line, or even a lip line to be seen. There were no eyebrows, hair or blemishes anywhere on his face or head. His glasses were just that, no frames, no nose or earpieces to hold them up or on. They just sat perched on the bridge of a wide ski-sloped nose.

He wore a black turtleneck sweater, with a tiny gold chain and cross hanging around his neck. His black pants were sharply creased and they draped to his ankles forming a tight ring of material just above his shoes. His shoes were white and they looked as if they were made out of some type of unidentifiable leather or skin. He stared at Jerld with eyes that Jerld had seen many times on the streets of Gary. They were looking for a fight and they belonged to someone who always won.
Then there was this little bit of a woman sitting at the far end of the couch. She had on a blue skirt and a white blouse and a light blue sweater hung around her shoulders, and a big blue band tied around her pulled back dirty blond hair. Her shoes were black with rounded toes and a silver buckle connected the straps. She reminded Jerld of the one of those high school girls that would come to Gary to see their all white basketball team get their asses kicked by an all black Gary school’s team.
They would giggle and tee-hee during the entire game. After the game was over they would form into a large group and a teacher would lead them out to their bus parked in the school lot. They acted as if they were afraid that some big black boogieman would jump out of the bushes and rape all of them.

If they only knew, most of the black kids in Gary wouldn’t have wanted to piss on them, let alone screw one of their white asses. Jerld thought to himself: “This lady did not belong on the couch; she belonged behind a counter at a drug store somewhere. She didn’t look up, she sat with a pencil in her hand and a tablet on he lap. The pencil was moving rapidly across the tablet.
Mrs. Wells said: “Mr. Bailey, these are the three attorneys that will be representing Jimmy in his trial and any other hearings that he or Jerld may need them for. They are the best that there is; don’t let their appearance fool you. They don’t lose.”
“The older gentleman is Mr. B.T. Graves; he has been my attorney for forty years. The next gentleman Mr. Kyle Tangent is the son of my gardener, who passed away twenty-three years ago. Since that time I have raised him as a son and seen to it that he received the best education he could get.
He is a graduate of Purdue and Harvard Law School. Kyle and Mr. Graves have been law partners for the last nine years. Mr. Graves has taught him well. By the way Kyle is totally deaf. He reads lips and can speak, but he prefers to use sign language. He fell from my front porch trying to catch my dog for me, suffering a brain injury. You will find that Kyle is one of the most intelligent individuals you will ever meet.

His not hearing or speaking is not a handicap it is an asset, as you will soon find out. If you notice Kyle wears all black except for the gold cross and the white shoes. The cross reminds him of how much God has given him. He says he wears the white shoes to remind him of all of the support he has been given by the white friends he has met and learned to love. They also remind him that those white people who have shown a prejudice towards his skin color or because of his hearing impairment deserved to be stepped on and then left behind.”
Mrs. Wells continued: “Last but not least is Miss Tail, her first name is Judith but she prefers to be called M.T and I would suggest that you remember that. If you don’t, you will see a side of M.T. that you will not like. She is also a graduate of Harvard Law and was the top of her class in scholastics and in aggressiveness. She dresses the way she does for a purpose; don’t let her appearance or her softness fool you.”
She has a photographic memory and remembers everything she hears, sees, or reads. Her talents will not only impress you but as you will see they also intimidate opposing attorneys.”
“M.T. How many murder trials have there been in the United States in the last ten years and how many ended in a convictions?”

With out a second of thought M. T. responded: “”Would you like the numbers by state or in chronological order?”
Mrs. Wells just smiled and said: “Never mind I am sure you know and we don’t have the time right now.”
“Mr. Bailey, and you too Jerld, deserve to know a little about me since we are going to be working closely together on Jimmy’s defense. I was born in Jamaica sixty-two years ago. My family and I lived in a very small village that had no running water or electricity. Our home was a mud brick and thatch roofed one room shack. But to us it was home and my brother and I felt like we were as well off as any of our other neighbors. This was because my mother and father taught us to be thankful for what ever God had given us.”
“When I was thirteen and Judie, my brother, was eleven years old, my father decided that we would move to the United States. So with only twenty-six American dollars and the clothes on our backs we left our home.”
“Both my mother and father got a job on a boat scrubbing the decks on their hands an knees in return for our passage to the United States. We had no papers of any kind and it was made clear to us that once we got to the U.S. we would just be dumped and we would be on our own.”

“We ended up landing in Miami and were taken off the boat in wooden crates. After nightfall we were able to loosen an end of the crate and get out. We scurried from crate to crate, so as not to be seen, until we were able to get off the dock. As we huddle together on a street corner not knowing what to do or where to go, a black man approached us. After a short conversation he pulled out a knife and robbed my father of our twenty-six dollars and his shoes.”
“Terrified we just started to walk. The area we were in was poorly lit and dirty. The streets were lined with clapboard rundown houses separated every so often by just as unsightly little taverns My father walked into the first tavern we came to with all of us in tow.”
“Bare bulb lights hung from the ceilings and there were several black men sitting at a hand built two by four bar, covered with plywood. Orange crates were the only other seats and they were scattered everywhere.”
“Many were stacked up against the dirty walls, that had not seen paint or a dust rag for many years.”
“At the rear of the bar hung was a large very dirty red curtain and men were lined up in a row waiting to step behind it.”
As we all watched, “Suddenly the line of men dispersed and from behind the curtain walked a woman who appeared to be a doll.

Her face was white as milk and her lips had red smeared lipstick from each corner of her mouth. Her blond hair was tied up with a red ribbon, but both it and her hair looked like they hadn’t been washed since the walls had been. “She was dressed in a bright red shinny dress, black net hose and wore purple high heel shoes.”
“This woman after straightening up her dress and pulling up her hose walked straight towards us. Approaching my father, her voice gargled out:
“You ain’t got any money and you are looking for work ain’t ya.” It was not a questioned it was a fact that no doubt she had stated many times before.”
“Well I don’t need any of you except that there pretty little girl,” she said, pointing at me. “Leave her with me and the rest of you can go out back and pick out one of my sheds to stay in for the time being. I’ll send out some beans and pork for you to eat.
There is a toilet and a wash bowl in the corner, so stay inside until the little lady is done working for the evening.”
“My father and mother look at each other with a look of helplessness and then turned, and with my brother in hand, walk out the back door not saying a word to me.”
“Missy you can call me Mother Bell and if you do what I tell you, I will pay you two dollars every day.” “Do you understand?”

Mrs. Wells continued: “I had never been paid even a penny before and for two dollars I could by enough food to feed my whole family, I decided I would and could do anything for that much money. I nodded and looking down at the floor said; “Yes.”
“I grew up quickly over the next few months, because Mother Bell not only owned the bar she was its only prostitute, until I came. The first couple of weeks were horrible, but true to her word and the end of each evening she would hand me two one dollar silver pieces. She continued to feed my whole family and let us live in the shack. So the two dollars was ours to save or spend as we wished. My mother and father never entered that tavern again or asked me what I had to do for the much needed money. They along with my brother each got jobs on the dock making fifty cents a day.”
Together we were making three dollars and fifty cents a day. Each evening my father collected it and placed it in a can under the floor behind the toilet stool.
We had spent a little over a year living in that old shack, when one day my father said: “Tomorrow we are riding a train to Chicago. Be ready to leave before day break so we can be on the train before Mother Bell gets up.”
“My mother had learned to write a little and sat down and scribbled out a note for Mother Bell.

It said: “We are a proud family and know that without your help and kindness we could not have stayed together, thanks.” “Then my mother signed it by drawing a pair of praying hands. She then folded two silver dollars up into the note and laid it on top of the table.”
“When we had gotten to Chicago my father had almost a thousand dollars left after paying for the train ride. We started to walk away from the train station when we past a small restaurant that had a sign in the front window that said: “For Sale.” Without a moment of hesitation my father went into the restaurant, with us in tow, and asked to see the owner. A small balding Italian man came out and my father in very broken English asked; “How much you want. I give you six hundred for whole thing.” The balding man smiled and said; “It’s the best offer I have had today so it’s yours.”
The restaurant was named The Wells Street Inn and from that day on everyone referred to us as the Wells who own the restaurant. That became our names and I was to become Jessica Wells from that day on.”
“I cooked in that restaurant seven days a week and enjoyed every minute of it. After a few hard years the restaurant became very profitable and my father continued to buy old houses and businesses in the neighborhood.”

“One day a white gentleman came into our little restaurant and offered to by all of the properties that our family owned which at that time sat in the center of downtown Chicago. My father took the offer and then through very prudent investments he along with my mother, brother and I became very wealthy. My Mother and father have now passed away and my brother was killed by a drunk driver, so I became the soul heir to all the family’s wealth.”
“Now that we all know each other, Jerld I want you to tell us everything that you know about Jimmy’s trouble, and do not leave out a thing. We may stop you from time to time for a clarification, but keep in mind we need to know exactly what happened.”

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Pre-Trial Work Begins.
Jerld search his mind looking for a starting point. He decided he would begin from the day Jimmy and him walked out of school for the last time and their drug dealing began. He slowly told of their first attempts and how after awhile it became a job and they never really thought of the consequences.
The money started to come in slowly at first and then it grew to the point that they were not able to find enough street drugs so they started looking for a supplier. It was only a matter of time until Ronnie K. contacted them. He was known to them by reputation, and they knew that he could get them what they wanted and as much as they wanted.
Mr. Graves held up his hand, palm facing Jerld and said “Stop, Tell us how you first met Ronnie K., I want to hear where, how and what was said. This is very important don’t leave out any thing.”
Jerld thought for a minute and then he began. “It was about two and a half years ago and it was a very hot evening in July or August. Jimmy and I had picked up five or six lids of heroin from a small time Smack dealer from the Miller section of Gary. We had cut them in half with milk sugar, in hopes of doubling our investment.”
“It didn’t take us long until we had sold all but two lids.

We were standing on our usual corner at Twenty-fifth and Broadway when we saw the ugliest Cadillac you could ever imagine pull up and stop down Broadway a few yards north of us.”
“Out of this roach-machine jumps a huge black brother. In a few steps he was in Jimmy’s face complaining about the “Shit” Jimmy and I had sold him and that he was going to get his money back out of our asses. You don’t talk to Jimmy that way no matter haw big or tough you think you are. Without a word being said Jimmy kick this big buck right between the legs and down he went rolling on the ground and screaming at the top of his lungs.”
“You kicked me you son-of-a-bitch, you kicked me you son-of-a-bitch.” the big guy squealed.
“Jimmy was just about to kick him again when a bullet flew over his head striking the corner of the phone both. Jimmy stopped in mid-kick and looked up and saw Ronnie K. standing along side of his puke bucket of a car. Ronnie had a semi-automatic handgun pointed at Jimmy’s head.”
Ronnie K. said; “Whoa boy, that’s my man you’re kicking.”
“To the man on the ground he said: “Enough get back in the car.”
Like a gorilla straightening up to his full height, to intimidate a foe, the brother got up.

Glaring at Jimmy he said: “Next time Brother,” then he walked to the car and got in.
“Ronnie K. still with the gun in his hand said: “You don’t have to sell that shit, I’ll fix you up with some good quality.”
“He then handed me a card,” Jerld said, and then as he was walking away he said; “Call Me.”
I then looked down at the card that he had handed me and it said in big bold letters: “Wholesale Supplier of Everything. Call Anytime R.K.” followed by a phone number.
I handed the card to Jimmy and said: “Were in business now.”
From that moment on Ronnie K. supplied with whatever we needed. We started with a twenty five- seventy-five split, but eventually we ended up splitting sixty-forty, with him getting the largest share.
All the time Jerld was explaining Mr. Graves was nodding, Kyle was staring straight at Jerld’s lips and little Miss Tail never quit writing on her lap tablet.
Jerld continued trying not to leave anything out. He told of their unexpected visit to Ronnie K.’s pad and the three white guys in suits.
How the little kid killer tried to shoot them a short time later. He tried to cover everything and told it as best he could exactly as it happened.

Every once in a while Mr. Graves would stop and ask a question. Kyle stared and M.T. wrote. He told of the shooting and the stolen car, the car chase and their arrest in Jasper County. Briefly he described what happened to him and his cellmate Harris.
He quickly explained the episode with the tow truck operator, and finished with how he ended up in Chicago, with Mr. Bailey and his family.
When he had finished Mr. Graves said: “Jerld you will never again talk about what you have just told us tonight unless I am with you, do you understand?” Jerld nodded. Mr. Graves looked around the room and repeated the same thing to everyone else in the room and they all nodded in unison.
Graves looked at Miss Tail and asked: “Well?”
M.T. stood up and said: “It will be difficult but we not only can win this we may even be able to keep Jerld from ever being charged. It will be tricky and we may have to call in some favors but it’s doable.”
Mr. Graves turned to Mrs. Wells and asked: “Jessica do you have any questions or anything you want to add?”
Mrs. Wells just said: “Win it and there will be a hundred “Gs” in it for you and your staff B.T.”

Graves smiling said: “You will get your money’s worth Jessica, I promise you.” With that he nodded to Kyle and M. T. and they got up and briskly walked out the door.
Mrs. Wells turned to Mr. B. and Jerld and said: “Jerld you and Jimmy are in good hands now, and whatever the out come is I want you to know that I will always be in your corner. Young men like you and Jimmy are born with two strikes against you and the third strike is heading toward home plate every day and every minute of your lives. I now have the ability and the finances to have some control on all those third strikes that have been thrown at our race for so many years. I’m not an umpire in the ballgame of life, but I sure can be one hell of a backstop. Mr. B. I trust that you will see that I am kept informed and that you will see to it that Jerld’s needs are taken care of. Now gentlemen it is time for me to get out of my working clothes and into my sweats.”
With a smile and a friendly wave of her hand she motioned them to the door.
Jerld and Mr. B. continued with their regular schedules except for Wednesdays and Saturdays when they would make their weekly trips to see Jimmy.

Jimmy was adjusting well at the county jail and at each visit he would describe some meal or desert he had learned to make. He was especially proud of his cakes and bake goods. He said he always did his best to see that the food he was assigned to prepare was the best he could make it.
To both Jerld and Mr. B. it seemed like Jimmy was not at all bothered by being in jail. As he described the long hours he spent in the jail’s kitchen, you would think he was working in a little corner restaurant where everybody knew each other and would stop in every day for the blue plate special.
Jerld also saw something else in Jimmy’s demeanor, he saw a growing confidence and pride in Jimmy, and it was as if the chef’s hat Jimmy wanted to wear someday would soon be his. Jerld felt bad for Jimmy having to take the rap for Nads’ death, but he could see happiness in Jimmy’s eyes, that he had never seen before.
Almost daily during or the next several months Jerld would receive a call from Mr. Graves or M.T. to clarify something or for some additional information.
He also learned from his visits with Jimmy that at least once a week Mr. Graves and M.T. or Kyle and M.T. would visit Jimmy and discuss the case.

Jimmy’s would only say that they would ask him a lot of questions that he had to think awful hard about to even remember.
Seven months had gone by when Jerld was called by M.T. and told that he was going to have to go down to the Gary Police station to give a deposition. He asked what that was and she said that the prosecutor, the man that was going to try to put Jimmy in jail, wanted to ask Jerld questions about Nads” shooting. M.T. told him not to worry, Kyle and Mr. Graves would be there with him and they would help him through it.
It was a cold fall day and the wind was blowing very hard down the corridor created by the downtown buildings along Broadway. Jerld prepared himself for the cold by pulling his sweater collar up around his neck, he shivered and hunched down in the front seat of the car. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but the shivers were not just from the cold, he was afraid that he might be seen by some of Ronnie K’s people. If that happened whoever saw him would make a beeline to a phone and drop a dime on Ronnie K. To Ronnie K. a police station was as good as any place to get his revenge. If he knew Jerld was in town every window and every street corner could have Jerld’s executioner waiting and willing to do Ronnie K‘s dirty work.

Thanks to Kyle he didn’t have anything to worry about, the car Kyle had picked him up in had tinted windows and when they got to the police station Kyle drove around back and into the police garage. There waiting for them was Mr. Graves and M.T., both looked like they still had on the same clothes that they had wore the first time he had met with them.
Graves smiled and offered his hand to Jerld and said: “This will be OK. I will be sitting across from you beside the prosecutor.”
“Before you answer any questions wait a few seconds to give me a chance to object. If I don’t just tell the truth as best you can remember. If you don’t remember exactly just say: “I don’t recall.”
The three of them walked into a door that led to some stairs and then up to a small hallway with several doorways, all were closed. As Jerld walked down the hallway he saw a big sign that read Chief, next to that was another door with a sign that read conference room.
Mr. Graves paused at this door and turned to look at Jerld and asked: “Are you ready?” Jerld Just nodded.
The room was brightly lit and was the about size of the bedroom that Jimmy and Jerld had shared at Mr. B’s. Instead of a couple of beds there was a large oval table that appeared to be in pretty bad shape. The wooden edges were discolored and scared.

The table top, which originally must have been some type of wood veneer, now had a cracked and peeling surface that at the present time was covered with stacks of papers. The table was surrounded with six high back fake leather chairs and one wooded straight-backed armless chair sitting in the middle of one side of the table. Three of the chairs were already filled with three white men. Each was wearing an identical suit, grayish with little thin blue lines. The suits reminded Jerld of those that Mr. B. wore to work everyday. Two of them had on white shirts and their bellies were covered with thin red and white striped ties.
Sitting in the center of the other two was a strange looking little man. Instead of a white shirt he wore a light blue shirt with a small white collar. He was very thin and had hair that looked like a recently plowed field. On the top of his head were several dark lines of hair separated by furrows of bright shining skin. He wore large black-rimmed glasses that looked as if they should have a plastic nose and a mustache attached to them.
The glasses only enhanced the comical look of the huge red bow tie he wore around his neck. Mr. Graves pointed to the uncomfortable looking wooden chair and said: “Jerld you sit there.”
“Kyle and M.T. you take the other two. I will sit over here with these fine gentlemen so I will able to hear them better.”

Then looking at the other three he said: “Gentlemen I am somewhat hard of hearing so if you don’t mind I will sit on this side of the table so I can hear everything clearly.”
The little man with the bow tie nodded OK and said: “Lets get on with this we have another hearing in court in two hours.” “Mrs. Kelso,” he hollered, “You can come in now.”
A door at the other end of the room opened and in walked a sixty plus year old women carrying what looked to Jerld as if it was some type of small typewriter and her own stool. With out a word she walked straight to the end of the table, set the stool down and then plopped her very large ass down on it. Then she straightened her glasses and set what looked like several miniature rolls of toilet paper on the table.
Looking up towards everyone she said: “Mr. Buffman I am ready.”
The little man started to talk and as he did the toilet paper lady’s fingers begin to type.
“Jerld Dewayne Mitchell that is your full name is it not?” bowtie asked. “My name is Ray Buffman and to my left is Jon Burkette and to my right is Thomas Manes.
I am the Lake County Prosecutor and these two are assistant prosecutors. Do you know what a prosecutor?”

Jerld looked at Mr. Graves and after a few seconds said, “No Sir, I don’t.”
“Well Jerld we are attorneys and we will be the ones who will be in court making every effort that we can to see that your friend Jimmy Tyler receives the punishment he deserves for killing Mr. Jerome Styles. Better known as Nads.”
Jerld started to say something but then a look in Mr. Graves’ eyes told him to be still.
“This is called a deposition,” bowtie continued: “That’s where we will ask you several questions and you are required by law to answer them truthful and to the best of your ability.” “Do you understand or have any questions before we start?”
That look was still in Mr. Graves’ eyes so Jerld did not answer.
Looking at Mrs. Kelso he said: “Swear him in and let’s get started.”
Mrs. Kelso looked at “Jerld and lifting her right hand palm forward she said: “Raise your right and repeat after me.”
“I, state your full name, do here by swear to tell the truth and nothing but the truth so help me God.”
Jerld mimicked her words and as he did he wondered how she would know if he was telling the truth or not.

When he was done Buffman said: “State your name and spell it for the record.”
Jerld complied.
Buffman continued: “Mr. Mitchell were you acquainted with Mr. Jerome Styles better known by the name of Nads?”
Jerld didn’t have a chance to answer Graves interrupted with: “Mr. Mitchell invokes the fifth and refuses to answer on grounds that it may incriminate him.”
You would have thought that Graves had just threw a round house punch hitting all three men at the same time, only stopping when it neared Mrs. Kelso. Her expression never changed, she just kept typing as the small roll of toilet paper uncoiled from the typewriter and tumbled to the floor.
Buffman jump from his chair and said: “What’s this bull shit, is he going to answer any of our questions today?”
Graves stood up and as he did he gathered the papers that were stretched out in front of him on the table.
“Mr. Buffman,” he said, not looking in his direction; “Mr. Mitchell is my client and my advice to him is for him to take the fifth on any of the questions you may have for him. Let’s cut through all of this and get down to why we are here today.”

“You want my client to give you information that will help you prosecute Jimmy Tyler. “We are willing to give it to you in fact I am sure with what Mr. Mitchell can tell you, I can almost guarantee that you will send Jimmy Tyler to jail.”
“My client is willing to tell you everything he knows about Jerome Styles’ death, but only after he receives full immunity from prosecution on this case any other charges that my develop as a result of his testimony.”
“We want that in writing and it must be approved by the court of jurisdiction before we will give you any information.”
Graves sat back down in his chair and said: “We will wait.”
The three men got up and went to the furthest corner of the room and started to discuss the matter in whispered voices. By their actions it was evident that there was a disagreement as to what was being said by the Prosecutor. As they talked their hands and arms looked like tree limbs in a strong wind, up, then down, and then waving back and forth.
After a few minutes the taller one that had been introduced as Jon Burkette turned, and shaking his head from side to side, walked away. That left the shorter one Thomas Manes, and the prosecutor standing nose to nose in what appeared to be strong disagreement.
Suddenly Buffman abruptly turned and walked back to the table.

By this time Burkette had already sat down in his chair. Manes still stood in the corner of the room with hands on his hips as if he was mad and didn’t want to be part of what was going to happen.
As Buffman was straightening his bow tie he said: “My assistants and I have agreed to accept your offer. We will have the immunity pre-offer prepared to take before the judge this after noon. We will be ready to have you review it and have your client sign it by ten tomorrow morning.”
Like a tiny bantam rooster, Mr. Buffman, stood up as tall as he could and with a smirk of a smile said: “Mr. Graves we expect you to have your client here at that time ready to tell us everything. Do I make my self clear Mr. Graves?”
As if his chair was a Lazy-Boy rocker Graves leaned backward almost to the point of tipping over and with smile ear to ear he responded: “Settle down Ray before that vein in your neck bursts and your cute little bow tie flies off. We will be here.”
With that Buffman and his two now somewhat pissed off assistants got up and walk out of the room.
Graves looked at Kyle and M.T. and winked and said: “Let’s go.”
Down the hall and the stairs, Graves and his little parade walked as if they were heroes returning home the war.

Not a word was being said, but every one of the four marchers knew that they had won the first battle.
When they got to the car Graves said: “Now you are going to see why Kyle and M.T. are so valuable to this team.”
Kyle got into the drivers seat, Graves the front passenger seat and Jerld and M.T. shared the back.
“Graves said: Kyle lets drive.”
M.T. started turning pages in the yellow note pad until she found a blank one and said: “OK Kyle I’m ready.”
Kyle, in the thick brogue of person who had never actually heard a spoken word began; “When they first got back to the corner Burkett exploded and said to Buffman: “Ray that’s bull shit we have enough to hang that little bastard along with his friend Jimmy Tyler, don’t give him shit.”
Then Manes started in: “Ray I don’t give a shit if you need to win this one for the election coming up or not. Don’t cut this guy any slack; he probably was the son of a bitch that killed old Nads in the first place.”
Buffman lost his temper and said: “You both know that if I loose this case that ass Wallford will probably beat me. If I don’t get elected both of you will be out on the street looking for a job.”
“So I’ll cut any asshole a deal for a guarantee to win.”

Burkette then said, “Ray you do whatever you have to, I just don’t want to be any part of this. You have already decided what you are going to do, so do it and leave me out of it. That’s when Burkette walked away.” Kyle continued.
Jerld just sat there in awe. He had forgotten that Kyle was deaf and read lips. Then there was Miss Tail, pencil in hand she was scribbling as fast as Kyle could dictate what he had seen the three attorney’s say.
“Manes was also upset with Buffman and was pleading with him to, “Just let Burkette and I at these guys we got a good case and we can win it for you Ray.”
“When Buffman was pointing his finger at Manes he was saying.” “I’m going to try this case and you and Burkette are going to assist me. Do you understand the word assist? I’ll make the decisions and you will live by them if you want to continue working at the prosecutor’s office.” That is when Buffman turned and came back to the table,” Kyle finished.
Mr. Graves chuckled and said to Jerld: “Aren’t these two something? Wait till you see them in court. We know what the other tables of attorneys are discussing with each other, before they finish their talk”.
“Kyle, take M.T. and I back to our car and I want to see everyone in my office at eight tomorrow morning.

Kyle will pick you up at Mr. Bailey’s house at seven Jerld.”
Jerld was not sure of what had happened at the police station. All he was sure of was that Graves and everyone else in the car was in a very good mood. He figured if that was the case then what ever had happened must be good for Jimmy. He didn’t feel comfortable with the statement Graves had made about him telling everything at tomorrow morning’s meeting.
Jerld stayed quiet on the ride home he was thinking of what he would tell Buffman and his sidekicks tomorrow. If there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that he wouldn’t be telling them everything he knew about Nads’ killing. If he did that, surely both he and Jimmy would go to jail for a long time. Maybe they both could even be sentenced to death.
The next morning at breakfast he told Mr. B., Rose and the girls exactly what had happened at the police station and what was said.
Mr. B. thought for a few minutes and then said: “Mrs. Wells says that they are the best team of lawyers money can buy, and she trusts their judgment.
Tomorrow Jerld I think it would be in your and Jimmy’s best interests if you do exactly what Mr. Graves tells you to do, no matter what it is.”
Rose and the girls all stood up as Jerld got up to leave and followed him and Mr. B. to the front door.

Rose kissed Mr. B. and then turned to Jerld and kissed him on the cheek and said: “Don’t worry, you are in good hands between God and the lawyers you couldn’t ask for better help. Remember to ask for God’s help, whenever you need him he will be there.”
Each of the girls also gave him a kiss on the cheek except for Olivia she reach up and pulled down his head and planted a kiss on his forehead and said: “ Everything will turn out all right you’ve got me in your corner.”
Jerld laughed and as he walked out the door he said: “I’ll tell those other lawyers that and I’m sure they’ll just give up on the spot. How can they have any chance at all against Olivia the lawyer?”
Mr. B. got into the driver’s seat of his Buick and said with a smile: “I’ll expect you to be back to work in the morning” and then drove off.
Kyle was just rounding the corner in the same tinted windowed car he had driven yesterday. When he pulled up to the curb Jerld turned and waved to Rose and the girls and then got into the front seat.
It was a forty-minute ride to the building that housed Mr. Graves’ law office, it was a silent ride.
Kyle just said: “Jerld, Mr. Graves is one of the best attorneys that there is. Don’t let his laid back attitude bother you.”

He knows what he is doing and what ever he does will be done in a way to benefit both you and Jimmy Tyler.” Jerld didn’t respond he was in deep thought “How could it benefit him or Jimmy if he told the truth?”
The office building was in an area surrounded by small shops. Within a block or so walk you probably could buy anything from a potato to a pistol. You also are able to hire anyone from hat maker to a hit man. It was that kind of neighborhood. Mr. Graves’ office fit right in with the other buildings. It could have been used as shoe shop or a corner grocery store before he set up his office in it. There was still a long rusty steel pole hanging perpendicular to the building, right above the entrance, that simple said: “Lawyers.” Jerld wondered how many other signs had hung from those now deteriorating pool hooks.
When Jerld entered into the lobby of the building he could not believe what he was seeing. There were no separating walls. Only shelves full of books separated the lobby, the desk cubicles and probably even the toilet he thought. Blue books, red books, green books, tan books, some old and some very old.
They were not lined up in the neatly ordered rows like you’d see in a library, they were stacked one on top of each other as if one pile was meant for one purpose and another pile meant something else.

In the center cubicle was a large very orderly desk and directly behind it was a bookshelf full of what looked like new books. All the same tan color and in the library rows. At the desk sat Miss Trail and in front of her, on the desk were several of the newer books and her yellow lined tablet.
She looked up and said: “Jerld you’re a couple minutes early. Mr. Graves will be with us in a minute. Can I get you a coke or something?”
Jerld nodded his head no; as he was offered the only other chair in M.T.’s cubical.
Kyle had disappeared into the depths of book land and somewhere off in this clustered book world Jerld could here Kyle and Mr. Graves talking. The words were hard to understand but Jerld did hear Mr. Graves say: “Hell if this works out we should be able to get both of them out of this mess.” Jerld smiled.
M.T.’s phone rang and she said: “We’ll be right in.” M.T. then led Jerld through the maze of bookshelves until they rounded a corner and there sat Mr. Graves behind an enormous desk piled high with books and papers.

Chapter Twenty-Five: Real Justice is Debatable

Kyle was sitting in front of Mr. Graves’ desk when they entered. There were two more vacant chairs on either side of him. He got up and moved to one of the side chairs and pointed Jerld to the middle one. He and M.T. took the empty chairs and waited for Graves to say something.
It seemed to Jerld that several minutes had passed before Mr. Graves looked up and said: “Jerald I think we can work this out so you will not have to serve anytime in jail at all. If all goes the way I have planned it, Jimmy will get a couple of years to serve and we will try to get it so those are served in the Lake County Jail, not at the prison in Michigan City. How does that sound to you?”
At first Jerld didn’t know what to say, “I’m the one that should go to jail not Jimmy, he only did what I told him to do. I blasted Nads not Jimmy,” he responded.
Graves’ face became very stern as he looked over the desk at Jerld. He folded his hands and laid his arms on top of the desk. “Jerld you didn’t kill Nads, the streets of Gary and the society that leaves people like you in that environment are the killers of people like Nads. From the day your born young men like you and Jimmy have one chance in a thousand to grow up into an adult and not have been killed or put in a jail to rot.

Our society has created an underbelly of second class citizens whose destiny is preordained to die in jail or on the street. You and Jimmy were never given the opportunity to grow up in an atmosphere of white picket fences and crime free streets. Instead drug dealing and murder were the only way of life you knew. To you and Jimmy this criminal environment that you were raised in didn’t have the same meaning as it does to the rest of society. Because of this you did not look down upon the drug dealers, pimps, prostitutes and crime in the same manner as we in the quote, civilized world do.” That’s why you and Jimmy ended up being chased by Nads and all of Ronnie K.’s other death dealing soldiers.”
“Today at this meeting if they give us what we want I want you to tell the truth and don’t leave out a word. If you trust me and do what I say I believe that you and Jimmy will come out of all this in a way that satisfactory to both of you.” “You will have to admit that you killed Nads and when you do, do not try to cover up anything do you understand.”
Jerld started to respond and then stopped.
He remembered what Mr. B. had said at breakfast and what Rose had said to him as she kissed him goodbye. The ride over to the Gary Police Station was a blur of activity. M.T. kept handing Graves' papers.

He would read them and then asked M.T.; “Has Kyle read it?” If her response was yes he would then tell M.T. “Put that in.”
Every so often he would approve some paper and say to M.T. “Kyle” and she would respond “Yes, but he doesn’t think we should use it.” Graves would then just say: “Don’t need it.” If that happened he would hand it to M.T. and say: “Keep it in file.”
When they arrived at the police garage “Mr. Graves leaned over back of the front seat and said: “Jerld when we leave here today we will know what your outcome will be, and you will have to take my word that whatever I say in that room will be in Jimmy best interest.”
With that he reach over the seat with an out stretched hand and said: “Today will be one of the toughest days you have ever had to face, but when it is over you will come out of it a much better man. Trust me.”
They got out of the car and again, as if they were in a parade, with heads held and shoulders pulled back they march up the stairs and down the hall and into the now familiar room.
The prosecutor and his two assistants were already seated in their usual places. Mrs. Kelso also was there with her small toilet paper rolls and tiny typewriter. The formalities over the prosecutor said; “Let’s get this over.”

Buffman handed a sheet of paper to Mrs. Kelso and said: “Mark it as exhibit one.”
She scribbled on it and handed it back to Buffman.
“Mr. Mitchell this is a grant of immunity that has been pre-approved by the court. It says that you will not be prosecuted or charged for any crime that is related in any manner to what we discuss here today. I will hand it to Mr. Graves your attorney and after he has read and approved it you will have to read it and sign it. Then verbally, so it is part of today’s record you will have to answer out loud “yes” if you accept this agreement. Do you understand?”
Jerld looked at Mr. Graves and he nodded “yes.”
Jerld answered: “Yes I understand.”
The prosecutor passed the sheet of paper to Graves. Graves read and passed it on to Jerld and said: “For the record, I, B.T. Graves acting as Mr. Jerld Mitchell’s attorney have read this grant of immunity that has been pre- approved by the Judge Meitzinger presiding Judge of the Circuit Court of Lake County Indiana.
It has been marked as exhibit one and after reading it I recommend that Mr. Jerld Mitchell accepts this offer and sign the agreement.”

He then handed the paper to Jerld. “Read it first and if you have any questions, I or Mr. Buffman will do our best to answer them.”
Jerld began to read it, but he couldn’t concentrate. He kept thinking of what everyone said: “Trust them, trust them” just kept going through his mind. Finally he thought to himself: “Fuck it what ever happens, happens.”
He grabbed the pen that Graves had laid in front of him and scrawled on the line saying signature, Jerld D. Mitchell. When he had done that, a sense of comfort suddenly came over him. Now it was over and he and Jimmy were in it together again. He thought to himself, it was like old times: “J and J did everything together.”
“Mr. Mitchell you have agreed to tell us everything you know about Jerome Styles murder in return for full immunity from prosecution. Do you understand that?” Buffman asked.
Jerld nodded his head yes.
Mr. Mitchell the tape recorder does not hear head shakes you will have to speak up.” Buffman snidely spit out. Jerld looked up into the prosecutor’s eyes and glaring he said: “Yes.”
“Mr. Mitchell start with how you know Jerome Styles and continue telling us what ever you know about his death.” Buffman’s bow tie wiggled as he snorted out his demand.

Jerld began at the time he had first really got to know Nads, that night on the basketball court shooting hoops. He continued with their limited contacts in grade school and high school. He described how he first found out Nads’ was a small time drug dealer and had a reputation as to have killed a couple of small time Smack dealers for Ronnie K. He had no trouble answering any of the questions that Buffman, Burkette or Manes asked him. He just told the truth as he was told to do by Mr. Graves and Mr. Bailey.
When he got to the night where he and Jimmy had went over to Ronnie K.’s place without calling first he started to think before a word passed his lips. How was he going to tell them about his killing Nads? He wanted Graves to interrupt, but he didn’t he just kept looking at Jerld and had a look of pride on his face. Jerld couldn’t understand why Graves would be proud of him? He was a killer.
There were a few questions from Burkette and Manes when he described how he knew they were in trouble when Ronnie K. walked out with the three white guys in suits.
Then when he begin to tell of the small kid coming out of Ronnie K.’s pad and starting to shoot at him and Jimmy, all three looked at each other nodding as if to say, “We heard this before.”

Jerld had been talking for a couple of hours now, and his throat was dry and his dick was about to squirt a river down his leg.
He paused and asked: “Can I have something to drink and I gotta piss.”
Mrs. Kelso continued to type and the small roll of toilet paper spewed out of the tiny typewriter and balled itself up on the floor. It was now a small white mountain of curled up rolls of white paper that reminded Jerld of snow.
Buffman looked at Mrs. Kelso and said: “Lets take a break and would you get Mr. Mitchell something to drink. And then with a grin he said: “Will you asked my fellow barristers if they would like something also?”
Jerld took his time in the bathroom, when he came back a coke was sitting in front of his chair and white Styrofoam coffee cups were in front of Graves, Kyle and M.T.
Graves looked up as Jerld walked in and said: “You’re doing just fine. I know you are getting to the difficult part now, but just remember tell the truth.”
Bow tie and his fellow chair sitters came back into the room smiling and sat down with their white Styrofoam cups in hand.
Buffman said: “Mrs. Kelso let’s go back on record.”

“Jerld you were telling us that you and Jimmy had been shot at and Jimmy and you had run down the street and into an alley. Pick it up from there.”
Jerld continued and told how he had called Tuney to bring them some money and a car. Then he described how Tuney had showed up with Nads hiding in the car.
Jerld could see Buffman squirming in his seat he knew the good part was coming and wanted to hear how Jimmy had killed Nads.
Jerld had to think long and hard about what he said next. The words “Trust them” came to him and he again decided he would.
Jerld then started to describe how he had walked up on Nads blind side. The squirming stopped and Buffman and Burkette and Manes all leaned foreword in their chairs poised so they would not miss a word.
Jerld then said: “I put the gun to the windows and shot Nads in the back of the head, he never knew what hit him.”
Burkette jumped out of his chair screaming: ‘Son of a bitch, Ray I told you not to cut this piece of shit a deal, I told you.” Manes stood up and with his hands on both hips stormed out of the room. Buffman just collapsed in his chair. He looked like he had just shrunk several inches and his bow tie was bobbing up and down like a fishing bobber with a big fish on the line.

Graves, Kyle and M.T. just sat motionless.
No emotion could be seen on their faces at all. Mrs. Kelso sat at her tiny typewriter pecking away recording every word that had or was being said.
Buffman face was white as a ghost he said: “Mrs. Kelso lets take another break.”
He waited until she had stopped typing and then turned to Graves and said: “You Bastard you set me up, you set me up. This will cost me the election and Burkette and Manes will be looking for another job. Do you know what you have done?”
Graves looked at Buffman and said: “I have more bad news for you Ray, I’m also representing Jimmy, and you and I both know you have nothing more then his fingerprint on a teeter-totter and we can explain how that got there.”
“Jerld will take the stand and tell the Jury that he did it all and poor old Jimmy was just along for the ride. You may have a case on Jimmy for aiding in the commission of a murder, but not much more.”
“My client Mr. Tyler will plead guilty to that in return for your
recommendation to the court that he does four to six years in the county jail.”

I would suggest you give my offer some serious consideration.”
“To save you a lot of embarrassment I would think it would be in your best interests that Jerld doesn’t not take the stand and tell everyone he killed Nads and you gave him immunity.”
“Ray I think this deposition is over for now, don’t you? I’ll have Miss Trail contact you in a few days and see what your decision is.”
“Jerld it’s time for us to leave now.” Graves gathered up his papers and turned to walk out the door followed by Kyle and M.T. and Jerld. The parade again proceeded out the door, down the hall, and the steps to the garage.
Jerld thought for a moment he heard a band playing a march somwhere off in the distance, but he could have been wrong.
The following week a hearing was held in the Lake County Circuit Court. The judge, showing a very disgusted look on his face, approved the plea bargain giving Jimmy four to six years in jail, to be served at the Lake County Jail. When it was all done Jimmy turned and smiled at Jerld and said: “It’s ok Jerld, when I get out of here I’ll be a great cook, and don’t worry about me, “THIS JAIL IS BLACK.”
The End

Chapters 19, 20, & 21

2007-10-21T14:46:00.000-07:00

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Chapter Nineteen: Was she asking for it.

The next morning’s breakfast was the same as the day before. To the boys it was fit for a king and now they felt like they were at the very least part of Mr. B’s kingdom. It was the same ritual as it would be every day. Mr. B. reminding them not to be late, then they would have to run to catch the Buick just as it was starting to pull away. There was one difference that they all enjoyed. Now when a gospel song came on radio that was liked by one of the Buick’s occupants, he would just start to sing and they would all join in. Jimmy, who couldn’t carry a tune, now more often then not, would be the first every morning to sing. It was evident that he was starting to like Mr. B. and this new life.
Every day was about the same at work except Jerld and Jimmy were doing better every day and believe or not they were starting to be liked by the majority of the residents on the third floor, except for Mrs. Sostrom. Every day she would either call their room with a complaint or call the desk to inform the “Staoof,” as she called them, of something Jimmy or Jerld hadn’t done. Jerld would just laugh it off, but to he was determined to make her like and he took her complaints personally.

The only other problem they were having, besides Mrs. Sostrom, was that every other day or so Mrs. Wells would call for them and when she answered the door she was always in some stage of undress.
It was apparent to the boys that she was getting a kick out of their inept ability to hide their enjoyment of her sixty-year-old body.
One time Jimmy was alone in their end of the hallway office when the phone rang. Jerld had gone to pick up some over the counter medicine for Mrs. Will, the owner’s mother. Jerld had learned to like her even though she was by far the most work for the boys.
Jimmy answered the phone: “Jimmy, How can I help you?”
“This is Mrs. Wells, Jimmy I am in a terrible fix. You have to come down and help me. Let your self in the front door and come to the master bedroom lavatory.”
Jimmy asked: “Where?”
Mrs. Wells responded with: “The bathroom Jimmy, The bathroom.”
Jimmy suddenly was reminded of the mess Mrs. Sostrom’s left in her wheelchair everyday, asked: “Mrs. Wells do I have to bring any cleaning supplies?”
Laughingly she responded: “No Jimmy I haven’t shit all over myself but I do have a problem, would you hurry?”

Jimmy let himself into the suite and it was evident that Mrs. Wells had been exercising again. A very large golden colored towel was draped over the rail of the treadmill. On the floor was a very small pair of white shorts and a matching pair of panties.
Jimmy could still see the wet spots in the crotch of both, obviously put there from Mrs. Wells’ sweat. Just looking at them made him a little embarrassed and also a little horny. What Jimmy didn’t know was that his will power would be tested to the limit in just a few more steps.
He entered the bedroom and again was dazzled by the contrast of the two colors that were everywhere. It was the whitest white and the deepest gold he had ever seen.
Then he spotted what he thought may be the bathroom. “Mrs. Wells,” he called: “Are you in there?”
With a chuckle she said: “No I am at a God Damn Nudist Party, and I need a partner, Get in here.”
Jimmy entered the bathroom. It was like nothing he had ever seen before. In one corner, stood a shower, that just came out of the wall. The fixtures and the floor tile were gold colored.
There were what look like water spouts in the wall at about every level and pointing in every direction.

The wall the fixture hung on was built with very large marble tiles, white with golden marbling. There were no other walls, only a small gold colored curbing surrounding a six-foot by six-foot shower floor. As Jimmy looked around he wondered if Mrs. Wells even closed the bathroom door when she showered.
On the bathroom wall perpendicular to the shower was one full-length mirror. Behind Jimmy and to his left was the longest table he had ever seen. It also was white and trimmed in gold. It didn’t have any legs but looked like it was just hanging in the air. On that table was an array of hundreds of bottles of every shape and color. They were filled with liquid that seemed to twinkle in the lights that hung from the ceiling above the floating table. One small clear plastic chair with golden pillows sat in front of the table.
Suddenly Jimmy’s attention was brought to the only corner left. It was behind the door and to his left. From that direction came a plea: “Jimmy help me please.”
He turned and there was a very large bath area and in the center was a space where the floor just disappeared, and in the center of that space sat Mrs. Wells completely nude and in a most seductive position.
Her left leg was half hanging out of the sunken bathtub.

It looked like it had been in the water for sometime it was wrinkled not from age but from the water. Her head was laid back against the ledge of the tub and her arm was raised up and held behind her head as if to expose her breast to their fullest. But the look on her face was not one of sexual anticipation, but was a look of embarrassment, frustration and helplessness.
“Jimmy I am sorry to do this to you, but I really do need your help.”
“I was getting out of the tub and went to sit on this ledge when I slipped and slid back into the tub. I laid there for a minute or so thinking how clumsy I am getting, then, when I started to get up I realized my hair was stuck in the seam between the tub and the wall. I have yanked, pulled and twisted until I could do it anymore. Thank God I always take my cordless phone with me when I take a bath or shower.”
“You boys were the only ones I trusted enough to call. Would you please do what you can to get me out of this tub? I am beginning to look like an old wrinkled sponge.”
Jimmy grinned and said; “Mrs. Wells you would be the prettiest sponge there every was. Let me see what I can do.”
Jimmy sat down on the outside ledge and leaned back laying his head on the ledge next to the Damsel in Distress’s pinned back head. He lifted her head slightly and slowly pulled her arm out from behind it.

Then with his head nestled in her sweet smelling shampooed hair, he was able see what the problem was. There was a small gold colored metal rim around the entire tub and where it met the wall it created a small seam where the hair was stuck. It had caught the small opening as she had fallen and then when she slid down further into the tub it had wedged further into the opening. As Jimmy lay in this position he could feel the delicate fingers of this gorgeous bronze woman slightly gripping his thigh.
He also could see that everything about her was still preserved very well.
Jimmy said: “I see the problem; your hair is stuck in the seam of this metal rim. I think I can cut part of your hair away or if I pulled hard enough the metal should bend and release your hair. What do you want me to do?”
She laughed: “As you can see I am losing hair all over my body and what little I have left I want to keep.” I will brace myself and you give it your best shot.”
Jimmy stood up with one knee resting on the ledge of the tub and got a good hold of the few hairs that were stuck. “Are you ready, here we go.”
A quick pull and the Damsel had been saved. She reached up and grabbed Jimmy’s hand to help pull herself out of the tub. When she stood her legs gave out and she tumbled into Jimmy’s arms.

“Jimmy I am weak would please help me to bed?” she gasped.
Jimmy held an arm around her waist and gently led her to the enormous bed. With one arm he pulled back the sheets and with the other he gently laid her down in the bed. After she was positioned to her comfort Jimmy grabbed the sheets and pulled them up around her neck,
“I’ll be leaving now Mrs. Wells, have a nice rest.” He turned and walked toward the door when he heard an n old lady’s voice say; “Jimmy come back here.”
His recently saved Damsel motion for him to come to the side of the bed and when he had come within her reach she reached up and pulled his head close to hers and then kissed him on the cheek and said: “Bless you Jimmy, Bless you.”
Jimmy wasn’t sure why, but he had wonderful feeling of being very proud himself. He closed the apartment’s door and walked down the hall to their small office.
When he got to the office Jerld was there. At first Jimmy didn’t know if he wanted to tell Jerld what had just happened. He just walked in took up his usual place on the small cot.
“Where you been?” Jerld asked.
“I had to help Mrs. Wells with a plumbing problem.” Jimmy replied.

Jerld felt that something must have happened or Jimmy would be more talkative. Jerld decided not to push the issue and picked up the residents book. He had been keeping his own records since they had started to work at the Devonshire. He had made a separate sheet for each resident and had columns where he could keep a record of when they had called and what was needed. And most of all what amount of tip was given each time.
He had spent a couple of hours explaining what Jimmy needed to do each time he handled a call and Jimmy had made a good effort in filling out the extra data sheet.
He noticed Jimmy had filled nothing out for the last service to Mrs. Wells.
“Jimmy you didn’t fill out the book for Mrs. Wells give me the information and I’ll do it for you. What was the call for?” Jerld asked.
“Plumbing problems”
“What did you do?” Jerld asked.
“She had some hair stuck in a drain and I pulled it out for her.” Jimmy chuckled when he had said that.
The Jerld asked the big question; “How much did she tip ya?”
Jimmy paused and then said: “A hundred dollars worth of pleasure and pride, and we don’t have to pay any damn taxes on it either.”

Jerld wrote a big question mark in the book and one also formed in his mind. “Don’t want to talk about it now Jimmy?”
Jimmy turned his back to Jerld and quietly thought to himself. “I’m not sure I could explain what happened.”
It had nothing to do with any sexual feeling he may have had, nor did Mrs. Wells’ nudity really have much to do with how he was now feeling.
He felt the way he did because he was able to help her out of her predicament and how good it made him feel to be able to do it. You can’t describe those kinds of feelings and he wasn’t sure he would ever want to.
The next couple of weeks seemed to be a blur in their passing.
It was as if each day ran into another. Same problems and the same solutions. For some reason Mrs. Wells has started to ask for Jimmy personally whenever she needed something. Jerld was liking his job more every day, he was getting more responsibility, such as running errands for the different hotel staff people.

Chapter Twenty: The Time has Come

Then the worst day of Jerld’s life suddenly sliced his new found life into several jagged and crumbling pieces.
Mr. Will had come in one day and needed someone to go with him to a luncheon where he was to be the guest speaker. After going to his office he called Mr. B’s office and said that he needed some help with a display board that he was taking with him to the luncheon. While still on the phone Jerld was passing by Mr. B’s office door and it was open as it customarily was. Mr. B. got Jerld’s attention with a quick wave of his hand.
Then he motion for Jerld to come into the office. Mr. B. hung up the phone and said: “Mr. Will would like some help in his office I trust you will take care of whatever he needs.”
Then with a smile and a backward wave of his hand he dismissed Jerld. At first Jerld was a little perturbed at the way Mr. B. had told him what to do and then with a wave of his hand went back to his other duties. As Jerld was walking away from the office suddenly it dawn on him. Mr. B. without any instructions or second thoughts trusted him enough to ask him to take care of the owner and president of the Devonshire Hotel.
He had only talked to Mr. Will one time and that was shortly after he had started working at the hotel and that was only an introduction.

Jerld smiled to himself and under his breath muttered: “The big guy, they trust me, Jerld, from the streets of Gary, Mitchell, to take care of the “Top Dog.”
Jerld straightened his tie and adjusted his coat and knocked on Mr. Will’s office door. A soft but firm voice said: “Come in please.”
Here was a guy who could probably afford to buy half of Gary and he was saying “Please” to me: Jerld thought as he open the door and said: “May I help you Sir?”
There stood Mr. Will in his shirtsleeves with the cuffs rolled up to the elbow. His suit jacket had been haphazardly thrown over an old brown wooden chair. There on the floor lay numerous large pieces of white poster board. They had evidently spilled out of a black leather case that appeared to have been made specifically for them. Jerld was surprised by the office it was only slightly larger then Mr. B’s office and had only a couple of old wooden chairs and a huge thick legged table sitting in the very center of the room. It also was covered with the large sheets of poster board.
The walls were covered with a green and white-flocked wallpaper, which appeared to have small silver wreaths, splattered every few inches. The wallpaper was old and some of the flocking and wreaths had seen their better days.

It was obvious that the carpet was installed many years after the wallpaper; it was green and with white speckles sprinkled over the green.
To Jerld it looked liked the same carpet that covered the hotel driveway just in front of the entrance.
Jerald figured that the large table must serve as Mr. Will’s desk and workbench and a place to stack his files.
Mr. Will looked up and said; “Glad to see you Jerld,”
Jerld was shocked that this man who he had only met once remembered his name, “Will you help me to pick up this mess? We have a luncheon appointment in forty-five minutes.”
Jerld and Mr. Will both got down on their knees and began to drag, pull and shove the large posters into one pile. In a matter of a few minutes the stack was orderly enough that they were able to stuff them into the black leather case.
“Jerld go find Clarence tell him to get you a new jacket, I don’t care what color, a clean shirt, and a red and white striped tie.”
“When Clarence complains about the color of the tie just tell him I said: “I’ve always had better taste in clothes then him.” “Get now we only have a few minutes to get to that Chamber of Commerce meeting.” “You’re going with me, I need help to lug all this in. Please tell Mr. B.”

Going with Mr. Will, I am not sure that Mr. B. or Clarence will be happy about his.
Jerld went straight to Mr. B’s office and looked into the open door and said: “Excuse me, but Mr. Will has asked me to go with him to this Chamber of Commerce luncheon, he needs help with the posters. Mr.’ B. looked up and said: “See Clarence about a new jacket and tie, tell him blue and white.”
Jerld the only thing you need know is that you ride in the front seat with Mr. Will’s chauffer, other then that Mr. Will could not had made a better choice.” The luncheon went off without a hitch and Mr. Will thanked Jerld for his help.
Jerld had ended up wearing a gray jacket with a gray and white-stripped tie. Clarence just chuckled when Jerld had told him of different tie choices that Mr. Will and Mr. had suggested.
When they got back to the hotel Jerld carried Mr. Will’s poster case into his office.
Mr. Will again thanked him for his help and with a big grin and a wink he complemented him on his nice looking tie.
Jerld felt like he could walk on water, he hadn’t felt this way since the day he was able to con Mr. Wallace into hiring him at the fruit stand, so many years ago.

As Jerld left the office he walked by the front desk and Donald said: “Jerld, two men in suits came in to talk to Jimmy and he left with them. He just said he would call you as soon as he could.”
“Jimmy doesn’t know any one around here, especially someone who would be wearing a suit,” Jerld was thinking to himself as he walked down the hall.
Again he was passing Mr. B’s door and Mr. B. called out: “Jerld come in here please.” Mr. B. was sitting behind his desk and had a white sheet of paper in his hand. Mr. B. was cordial and first asked how things had gone with Mr. Will. Jerld said that it all had gone very well and he had enjoyed being with Mr. Will and meeting all those other Big Shots.
Mr. B. smiled a knowing kind of smile and said: “Jerld those men are no different then you and I, they were put on this earth because God has a purpose for them. The same as he has for you and I.”
“Please don’t refer to them as Big Shots, if you like you can call them by Mister or just to be polite you can call them sir. Always remember, either way they will show you just as much respect as you show to them.” Then he paused while Jerld nodded to Mr. B. that he understood.
“Jerld, he said: lifting the sheet of paper he held in his hand. This is an arrest warrant for Jimmy issued out of Lake County Indiana.

It was issued by a judge in Crown Point and he is wanted as a material witness.” “The only information that I was able to get from the two police officers who served this warrant was that it had to do with an old car that had been found abandoned a couple of blocks from our house, by the Chicago Police Department.
The officers said that he would be taken to the Lake County Jail and held without bond.”
“Jerld, do you know what this is about? If you do tell me what I can do to help.”
Jerld’s breathing became very rapid and a deepness of color appeared to flush his face. Here was Mr. B. a man that knew very little about either Jimmy or him up until they showed up on his doorstep.
He had done so much for Jimmy and him over the last few weeks and now without even asking what it was about he offered to see if he could help. Jerald wanted to tell him everything, the drug dealing, the killing of “Nads”, the chase to that hillbilly county and the murder of Harris, that he was a witness too in the Jasper County Jail. Though he wanted to cleanse his mind and his soul to this wonderful and caring man he knew he couldn’t.
“Mr. B. I know about the car, it was the one that Jimmy and I drove up here in.”

“We got it from a junk yard south of Gary about thirty miles, it could have been stolen, but if it was Jimmy and I didn’t know about it.” “We left it there because it was such a piece of junk, after first driving by your house we didn’t feel good about parking it there. So we just left it parked along side the curb a few blocks from your house.” “That’s all I know about it, Mr. B.”
When Jerld had finished he felt good that he hadn’t really lied to Mr. B., but felt bad that he hadn’t told Mr. B. everything either. He knew that he couldn’t.
“Jerld,” Mr. B. said: “Tomorrow we will go to the Lake County Jail and see what we can find out.” Jerld was stunned when he left Mr. B’s office and couldn’t remember if he had even thanked him for letting him go with Mr. Will.
He plodded through the rest of his shift in a daze not remembering anything but the last part of his talk with Mr. B.
Mrs. Wells had called once and when she had asked for Jimmy and was told he wasn’t there she sounded very disappointed and told Jerld to: “Never Mind.”
Finally the workday had ended and as usual Mr. B. and his Buick were sitting out in front of the lobby doors waiting for Jerld. He motioned for Jerld to get in the front seat instead of the backseat.

Jerld climb in and noticed that there was no music playing for this drive home.
Mr. B. only asked one question of Jerld the entire ride home, “Jerld have you told me everything.” Jerld couldn’t and didn’t answer he only looked at Mr. .B. and Mr. B. understood.
When they reached the house, Mr. B. said: “We will be leaving for Lake County at 7:45 sharp.”
That evening was different, Rose and the girls wanted to know what had happened to Jimmy and when Mr. B. had told them they all sat silently.
Except for Olivia who said: “I hope he is OK, I miss him already.” Johanna sat as she always did straight and un-bending, Kaylee got up and excused her self and left the table in tears.
The silence was like a thunder burst loud by it absence, then a little murmuring of deeply drawn breath, and then total quietness.
The normal clatter of plates being passed was without sound. The light tinkling of the utensils striking the plates seemed to have a hollow dull sound. When dinner was finished Rose said: “I will take care of the dishes Jew L., will you gather the children for our Bible study?”
With that Rose stood up and bent down and kissed Mr. .B. on the top of his balding head.

Jew L. “God will lead us through this and our family will be back together soon.” Tears formed in Mr. B. eyes and he made no attempt to stem them or in anyway hide them.
As if by some type of unspoken word having passed throughout the house, when Jerld and Mr. B. got to the living room everyone was already sitting in their individual pedals of the living room’s flower. Mr. B. took the center chair and without a word to anyone his voice began to resonate a very low humming sound. It was a sounded like the movement of a thousand people grouped together and slowly rocking back and forth.
It didn’t sound like it was coming from a voice, but from a thousands pairs of hands being rubbed together in despair. Rose entered the room and sat down and the four ladies started to wail. To Jerld it sounded like the high pitch of a siren being muffled by thousands of tightly held lips.
As they continued with this serenade of lightly broken silence, they started to move their shoulders in a circular motion keeping their heads bowed and unmoved. Suddenly Jerld realized that he to was moving to the sorrowful dirge that was encompassing the others in the room. As he listened and moved he began to feel the emotions of everyone in the room. They were giving strength to each other in their time of crisis and he felt that he was becoming a link in a big chain that could not be broken.

After several minutes Mr. B. whispered, “We have heard Lord and we are well.”
“Amen” was repeated several times around the seating petal and then Mr. B. said: “God is with us in our troubles and tells to go about our business. I feel like a good sleep so Rose and I will beg your leave and go up to bed. I would suggest you all do the same.”
Not a word was spoken as everyone stood up, still with their heads tilted down, as if a great weight was around their necks. Then each of them slowly trod upstairs to their separate bedrooms.

Chapter Twenty-One: Jimmy’s Charges

The next morning, except for morning grace, there again was silence at the breakfast table. The normal morning with the usual exchanging pleasantries and the sharing of dreams did not exist at all. When the meal was done Mr. B. said: “I’ll meet you in the car.” Then he turned and walked to the front door forgetting his suite jacket.
“”Jew L. you’ve forgotten your jacket.” Rose called after him. He seamed not to hear her; his mind was someplace else, a place that only he knew. Rose grabbed the jacket off the chair and followed Mr. B. outside.
Grabbing his arm she said: “He needs us now more then ever, and you the most.”
As Mr. B. took the coat from her folded arm he said: “I know Rose, I know.” I hope the boys trust me and understand that whatever they have been involved in, we will stand by them.”
Jerld had to go up to get his jacket and had just returned to the front door and had heard what Mr. B. had just said. He paused at the door, feeling mixed emotions. “Should he trust Mr. B, with his and Jimmy’s deadly secret or should he wait until he has more time to find out everything that is going on with the police and “Nads‘” death.”

He decided that he would wait until he and Jimmy had the opportunity to talk. Jerld walked out the door just as Mrs. B. was kissing Mr. B. good-bye and said: “Mrs. B. Could I have a good luck kiss, I think I am going to need it today.”
A small smile appeared on both of their lips as Rose stood up on her toes and kissed Jerld on the forehead. “Jerld remember to tell Jimmy the girls and I send our love and will have a big breakfast waiting for him when he gets home.”
Mr. B. said: “Jerld, get in the front seat so we can talk.” This was one time that he wasn’t looking forward to the forty-five minute drive to Crown Point and the Lake County Jail. He got into the front passenger’s seat and moved it back as far as it could go so Mr. B. would have to turn his head to see him. With Mr. B. being such a big man, this put Jerld a little behind Mr. B’s right shoulder. He did not want Mr. B. to be able to look him in the eyes when they talked.
“Jerld, have you told me everything?” questioned Mr. B.
“No Sir, I haven’t and I feel it would be better if you didn’t know everything yet. It may cause you and your family a lot of worry and needless concern, please trust me.” Jerld responded.

The rest of the ride was quiet except for the radio, which now was turned down, and Mr. B. was humming along with it. He voice sounded a little mumbled and sad as he hummed. The sound in his voice made every tune, that the radio played, a somber chant that seamed to express his mourning for a time past. There were no more questions just a joint feeling of apprehension for what lies ahead.
The Lake County Jail sits a little more than stone’s throw from Gary’s city limits. There are seventeen incorporated towns and cities in Lake County all of which bring their criminals, crooks, and ne’er-do-wells to the Lake County Jail. The jail has an address of Crown Point, but sits on what use to be farmland a short distance North of Crown Point’s downtown. This one is considered the new jail; Lake County’s old jail is infamous for the notorious bank robber, Dillenger’s escape. The old jail, where Dillenger was alleged to have carved a gun out of a bar of soap and force his way out of his cell, still sits in the middle of downtown. Across the street and a block north is the other thing Crown Point is well known for. It’s the very beautiful and well-preserved 19th century courthouse. It sits in the middle of what is called the Square and is surrounded by many small old store buildings, which now, like the courthouse, are occupied by modern shops or businesses.

Crown Point had long ago ran out of space to build downtown so like most small cities it started to crawl North on it’s main street. Businesses such as fast food restaurants, car lots and small shopping centers now poke-a-dotted both sides of the main street out to the Government Complex. Where the Lake County Jail and County Court and Office Complex now sits.
The Complex’s architect must have thought he had to divide and conquer to accommodate the many cars that needed to park around the complex. Circular parking proliferates most of the left over land. The majority of which is used by the various public office holders and their staff, leaving little room for jail or court visitors to park. That is unless they have brought right supplies to hike from the farthest parking spaces away from the building‘s entrances. On a warm day it would definitely require a bottle of water and comfortable shoes.
This jail houses anywhere up to 1500 prisoners at any one time, with the majority being black or Mexican with a heavy sprinkling of whites. This jail was a “Black Jail” the black inmate population was in control and everyone knew it. The guards, the staff and even the sheriff knew it, but of course the Sheriff would not admit to anyone other then himself, as being in controlled his jail.

Like any jail, it is a maze of steel, round bars, square bars and unbreakable windows. If the guards didn’t wear uniforms you couldn’t tell them from the prisoners.
The stations where the guards are assigned too spend their working hours are also barred cubicles, not much different from the prisoner‘s cells.
When you first enter into the cell area the noise is deafening, it’s cause is the clanging of the cell’s huge metal barred doors and the rustling of prisoners being paraded in chains from one cell to another, or to court. Then there is a constant rumble that seems rise and fall from a din to a roar. At first it is unidentifiable then as you listen you begin to make out a word or two, then you realize the sound you are hearing is a thousand voices all echoing through the walkways and from the cells. The voices may be saying different words but together they are all crying out: “Help me, Help me.”
Mr. B. was able to find a parking spot near the front of one of the parking circles. It was tight but he was able to squeeze the big Buick in, leaving room for both he and Jerld to get out. They walked side by side up the stairs of the sunken parking circles, and then crossed the blacktopped driveway.
There was a long curb along both sides of the driveway and sheriff’s police cars were parked helter skelter, taking up every inch of the curbing.

Mr. B. and Jerld had to walk several yards out of their way to get around these cars and reach the jail’s front door. At the front door sat a blue Lincoln Town Car parked in a space, which was reserved for “The Sheriff.”
Jerld wondered as he walked past the blue town car: “Why does a sheriff need a car like that?”
Then he chuckled and thought; “What kind of car a sheriff drove was the least of his worries.”
As they entered the lobby of the jail there was a sign directing: “Visitors must be searched” then an arrow pointing down a hallway and through an arch like doorway, but this doorway didn’t go anywhere it just stood in the middle of the hallway and had to uniform guards standing on either side. As Jerld and Mr. B. approached this doorway to nowhere, one of the guards held out a plastic pail and told each of them to empty their pockets and if they had a large belt buckle to take the belt off and put it in there also. As they walked through the doorway the guard quickly sorted through their belongings in the pail. He then sat the pail down on a table filled with rows of other pails.
The guard said: “Straight down the hall, you’ll get your stuff back when you leave.”

At the end of the hallway behind a small desk sat another guard with a notebook in front of him on the desk.
“Who ya here to see?” he barked.
“Jimmy Tyler” Mr. B. answered.
The guard rifled through the notebook in front of him and said: “What are your names?”
“Jew L. Bailey and his name is Jerld Mitchell.” Mr. B. politely answered.
The guard was a white younger man, small in stature and had a grime color to him. The kind that even if he had just stepped out of a shower he would still look dirty.
He looked up at Mr. B. and with a sneer he said: “Well Mista Jew L. Bailey the kid is on the list and you ain’t. So the kid goes and you go back to the lobby or your car, you ain’t going through until Mr. Jimmy Tyler puts you on his visitors list.” “Kid, go down that corridor and a guard will let you in to see Mr. Tyler.”
Mr. B. politely thanked the guard: “Thank you, I am glad they are able to find work for people like you.” Jerld looked at Mr. B. just as he winked and said to Jerld: “Go ahead and see Jimmy. I’ll just sit in the lobby and enjoy the wonderful atmosphere this nice young man has provided me with.”

With that he turned, raised his chin and coughed in a manner that let everyone know, including the jail guard that he was mocking him.
Jerld grinned, nodded to Mr. B. and started to walk down the hall.
“I’ll tell Mr. Tyler to put you on his list for next time Mr. Jew L Bailey,” Jerld hollered over his shoulder.
At the end of the corridor was another white guard he opened a heavy steel door and said; “In here Sir, we will have Mr. Tyler down in a few minutes.”
Jerld entered another long room that wasn’t much wider then the corridor he had just left. The room was divided into several glass-partitioned cubicles all lined up side by side. Each cubicle had a chair on either side of the glass partition allowing a place for the visitor to sit on one side, and the prisoner on the other. In the partition was a heavy metal screen allowing the visitor and the prisoner to talk through. Although you could see and talk to each other this setup made it impossible to touch or pass anything between the two.
Jerld walked down to the end farthest away from the guard at the door, and sat in that cubicle. He wanted to discuss some things with Jimmy that he definitely did not want others to hear.

A few minutes passed before Jimmy appeared. He was wearing an orange jumpsuit and a pair of shower shoes. When he saw Jerld his eyes lit up like two beacons and his smile looked like he had swallowed a half of a dinner plate.
Jimmy hurried to the end cubicle and sat down.
“Jerld it great to see you, how is Mr. B., Rose and the girls and especially Mrs. Wells?” he blurted out.
Jerld was taken back by the last, why did he mention Mrs. Wells, he wondered.
“They’re all fine and send their best wishes. Rose said she will have breakfast waiting for you when you get back home.”
Jimmy smiled and said: “Home, Jerld, Mr. B’s place was like home wasn’t it. Have you talked to Mrs. Wells? Is she OK?”
Again Jerld wondered why Mrs. Wells, what did Jimmy have going with her?”
“She had called a couple of times asking for you, but when I told her you weren’t there she would thank me and hang up. Is there something you want me to tell her?”
Smiling Jimmy said: “Yep, tell her I miss her lesson on the eggs benedict, and ask her if Luke and Laura got married.

Jerld I sure miss watching general Hospital with her. It was our favorite soap.”
Jerld thought for a few minutes and said: “Soaps you watched Soaps with Mrs. Wells?”
Jimmy grinned: “You bet we did and she was teaching me how to cook as a surprise. I was going to make a breakfast for everyone at Mr. B’s house soon as I learned how to make Crepes.” Jerld just shook his head.
He looked over his shoulder and luckily no one was in the next two booths. Jerld leaned as close as he could to the screened opening and whispered: “Jimmy what’s going on?”
Jimmy said: “Jerld I am in big trouble. Remember that day we went to Ronnie K’s and sat on the swings. Well I also had sat on the iron pipe that supported the teeter-totters. Tuney ratted to the cops. She just said that two guys had been over to see Ronnie K. about a dope deal, and Ronnie K. got upset with them and had sent Nads out to kill the two dope dealers. “
“When they were searching the playground after they found Nads swallowing his gun on the teeter-totters they dusted them for prints and only came up with one of mine on the underside of the iron pipe. It had rained and washed everything else off except for my one print.”

“When Tuney’s car was recovered at that wrecker yard, they found only my prints on the back of the rear view mirror where I had reached up to adjust it. Then they went to that hillbilly jail and got a copy of my prints and compared them to the ones found on the teeter-totters. That’s how they found out it was me.”
“Then the Chicago cops found that old car we dumped and questioned the neighborhood and found out I was living at Mr. B’s place. They checked around and found out we were working with him at the hotel and they came and got me. Jerld they have questioned me several times and I played dumb. They don’t know a thing about you so let’s let it play out and see what happens. They tell me I am going to be charged with killing old Nads.”
Jerld’s mind was racing; he couldn’t let Jimmy take the blame for what he did. He didn’t know what to do. He started to tell Jimmy he was going to take the blame, but their conversation was interrupted by the white guard. “Times up you have to leave Sir: the guard said.
Jerld was dazed he couldn’t think straight. A guard grabbed Jimmy by the shoulders and started to lead him away. Jimmy looked back and said: “Tell Mrs. Wells where I am at and she will take care of everything.” Jerld stumbled down the corridor and the long hallway, and if it weren’t for the grimy looking guard he would have forgotten his pail of belongings.

Jerld turned the corner facing the lobby, and there sat the finest man Jerld had every met, Mr. Jew L. Bailey. He and Mrs. Wells were to become the rock that Jerld and Jimmy would depend on over the months to come.

Chapters - 17 & 18

2007-10-14T11:32:00.000-07:00

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Chapter Seventeen: A Found Family

When they got to the table the whole family had already seated themselves, they were talking quietly. The minute Jerld approach the table Olivia stood up and holding the back of the chair next to her said; “Jerald you sit by me and Jimmy you sit between Johanna and Kaylee.”
Jimmy looked at Jerld hopelessly then he turned to Mr. B. and asked:
“Is that OK, Sir?” Mr. B. smiled, nodded and said to Jimmy.
“Yes Jimmy it is OK and thank you for asking, that was very polite of you.” “Mr. Tyler and Mr. Mitchel please think of our table as being your table and the girls and Rose and I your family. “Now let’s bow our heads and thank the good Lord for all that he has given our family.”
Jerld was dumbfounded in all the years he and Jimmy had been friends he had never heard Jimmy sir anyone. There was something strange going on in their lives, but Jerld did not understand it or was he sure it was what he wanted.
Jerld and Jimmy sat in the chairs that they had been assigned to by Olivia. Jimmy looked like he was trying to squeeze his large frame into a very small box.
His elbows were pressed to his sides and he sat up as straight as he could.

Fearing that at any moment he would explode out the chair and onto Johanna and Kaylee.
Kaylee reached over and poked Jimmy in his aide and said “Gotch-Ya.”
Jimmy game up and out of the chair as if it was a hot seat, knocking it over and stumbling backwards. Jerld saw that look of anger swell up again in Jimmy’s face and started to say something, but ha wasn’t quick enough. Kaylee bounded out of her chair and grabbed Jimmy’s arm and laughing said: “Did I hurt you? Please forgive me.” Then she reached up and gave Jimmy a kiss on the cheek.
It was only a peck, but to Jimmy it was one of the most affectionate things that had ever happened to him. He melted; there is no other way to describe it. His face redden and the widest smile Jerld had ever seen suddenly appeared. Jimmy looked around at everyone and they all were laughing and smiling.
The grin got larger and Jimmy said: “Now I guess I am one of the family.” Rose with a huge smile and shaking her finger side-to-side said; “Kaylee Jimmy gets your piece of pie tonight, you were naughty.”
Kaylee looked into Jimmy’s eyes and said: “Is that all I have to give him Mother?” Jimmy blushed and looked down at his shoes.

Mr. B. blurted out’ “Young lady that’s enough of that, let all sit back down and pray.”
As all the heads bowed Mr. B. started: “Lord please accept our thanks and appreciation for the two young men you have sent to us. Please give us the strength to cope with any difficulties we may have to face in our daily lives. Dear Lord again I would like to express our family’s gratitude for the food, clothing and shelter you have provided us with. Lord stay with Mr. Tyler and Mr. Mitchell as they do their daily duties, serving you.”
Jimmy raised his eyes ever so slightly and looked at Jerld. He had his head bowed; eyes closed and was nodding his head up and down as he repeated Mr. B.’s words. Jimmy‘s mind was in a state of confusion and he was scared. “What’s happening to us,” Jerld thought.
During he rest of the dinner there were discussions about what each of the girls had done that day. Then Mr. B. said; “Rose I was very proud of these two young men today. I think they deserve a toast.”
Lifting his glass of water he presented it to the middle of the table and Rose and the girls did the same.
“Here’s to Misters Tyler and Mitchell may they enjoy and be successful in there new careers.”
A look of surprise and humbleness appeared on both of their faces.

This was a kindness neither one had ever been confronted with before. So they just sat and enjoyed the moment.
“The dishes need to be done, and tonight Rose and I aren’t doing them, we will be in the living room. Kaylee will see that the table is cleaned and the dishes get put away.”
Mr. B. reached up and put an arm around Rose’s shoulder and said: “May I escort you to your chair?” for a moment the two of them seemed to have shared a moment that only they understood.
Jerld was getting up from the table when Johanna lightly grabbed him by the elbow and whispered: “After Bible study let’s go for a walk in our back yard.”
She then led Jerld into the kitchen and there stood Jimmy with Olivia trying to tie an apron around his waist. “Mr. Tyler you and I are going to wash the dishes.”
“Not me” he chuckled.
The embarrassment could be seen in Jimmy’s eyes, but there also was a smile on his face: “Do I have to wear this?” he pleaded.
“Yes you do, now stand still.” Olivia half hollered.
Jerld and Johanna laughed as Olivia tugged at the apron straps. She could barely get them around Jimmy and Jimmy wasn’t helping the matter.

Each time she grabbed for one tie or the other Jimmy would turn around the opposite way. Olivia seemed to be using Jimmy as a maypole as she danced around him and he just kept turning.
From the living room Mr.B.’s voice bellowed out: “You boys both have to help with the dishes, and if Rose makes me wear apron both of you have to. Now all of you get those dishes done so we can have our bible study.”
Johanna held out an apron to Jerld and asked: “Do we have to dance too, or can that wait till later.”
In her eyes Jerld saw a promise of something to come, but he wasn’t sure what exactly what it was. He decided that he would wait and let Johanna make the first move. He grabbed the apron and put it on and he attempted to tie the strings, but they were exceptionally long and hung down almost to the floor.
He felt Johanna reaching down and grabbing each apron string.
She was standing directly behind him and with a string in each hand reached around Jerld’s waist in an attempt to tie the excess string in the front. As she did this Jerld felt the warmth of her body pressing against his back.
She was moving slightly side to side as if trying to get a better grip on each string.

As she did this, her breasts like two small pillows fluffed gently back and forth across his back. Jerld reached down and cupped both of her hands in his as if he was tying to pull the strings tighter. Her hands felt warm and soft to his touch and he gently caressed each finger as he pulled their hands away from the knotted strings.
Still holding one of her hands he turned to face Johanna and said: “Lets get these dishes done so we can enjoy ourselves later.”
Johanna smiled and gently hung on to one of his fingers.
“Lig you and Mr. Tyler do the washing and when you are all done come and get Mr. Mitchell and I, we will be in the back yard.”
Pushing the door open Jerald stepped back to let Johanna go out first. She step in front of him only taking a couple steps before the sound of the heavy old door closing was heard. It was like a starter’s pistol at a track meet. Johanna turned and threw her arms around Jerld.
Hugging him with a death like grip, Jerld felt her hands pushing his apron aside and began groping for an opening in his belt that would allow her hands to caress his maleness. Jerld was taken back and he recoiled backward.
“Whoa, what’s going on here?” It was more of a statement then a question that unintentionally sprung from Jerld’s lips. Johanna didn’t seem to hear it.

She put her other hand behind Jerld’s head and pulled his head down until their lips were fumbling for each other and when they did meet Johanna’s tongue plunged in to Jerld’s mouth. Her tongue was like a viper striking again and again. Jerld was struggling to keep some small control over Johanna hands but it was useless to even try.
She had worked her fingers into his groin area and was cradling both his balls and his dick with one hand, while pulling on the back of his head with all the strength she could muster.
The two were entwined like a twisted candle that was on fire at both ends. Jerld fell back against the back porch railing and landed in a half sitting and standing position. Johanna’s grip on his crotch area and the back of his head didn’t loosen, but when he stumbled backward it dragged her body on top of him.
The next thing Jerld knew his fly had been unzipped exposing his manhood to the cold night air.
Then warmth gradually seemed to surround his exposed dick. It was like a warm cover being placed over his privates to warm them. Slowly the warmth was enveloping his entire groin area and a rhythm of syncopated love making over took his entire body. Johanna’s warm breath was now coming in gasps and Jerld could feel it on his lips.

The darting tongue was in perfect harmony with the now moist gentle movement of Johanna’s pussy as her hips pulsed back and forth.
Jerld was still not sure of what was happening. He knew of course that they were having sex but wondered with each forceful stroke of Johanna’s hips, if he was in fact being raped or if some how he had in some way mislead Johanna.
Jerld had had sex many times since the first time with Robin and the twins, but this was the first time it had been somewhat forced on him. Not that he wasn’t responding. His dick felt like a gigantic sausage, but he had never had sex that was not as a result of him initiating it.
Suddenly the love juices burst from both of them and they collapse into each other’s arms.
It was at that time Jerld realized that throughout their love making Johanna had not once opened her eyes. As he cuddled her, her head was buried into his chest.
Johanna said quietly; “The dishes must be done by now, we better go inside.”
She pulled away and straightened her blouse and skirt just as Lig opened the door and said: “Come on in you two love birds. The dishes need to be dried.”

Immediately Jerld thought “Did she see us?” He was thankful that Johanna stood between him and the doorway because he had not had time to tuck his manhood back into his pants or straighten up his apron. Turning slightly away from the door he zipped up his pants and looked down to make sure the results of their love making was not still clinging to the front of his fly.
Johanna pranced into the kitchen as if nothing had happened. “Where are the dishtowels?” “Come on Mr. Mitchell, we got to get these dried before Daddy comes in here with a switch.”
Jerld straggled over to the sink and was handed a drying towel from Lig.
She said with a big smile: “Now don’t get anything on the front of your pants it will stain.”
Jerld again wondered:” Did she see us?”
Jimmy and Lig walked out of the kitchen with Lig hanging tightly onto his arm. Jimmy looked happier then Jerld had seen him in years.
Johanna and Jerld stood drying the dishes, not looking at each other or saying a word. When their hands touched accidentally Johanna would draw back as if she didn’t want him to even touch her. When the dishes were dried she said loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Kaylee the dishes are done, do you want me to put them away?”
“I would appreciate that and send Mr. Mitchell in here so we can get ready for our Bible study.” Kaylee responded.
Johanna looked at Jerld and gave a go-on nod and then started to gather the dishes to put them away. Jerld just turned and walked out the kitchen door and into the Daisy Room without a word being said.
It was only a few minutes when Johanna appeared and said; “All done, Kaylee you and Jerld sit together tonight and Olivia you and Jimmy, I’ll start off with mother.”
Mr. B. took his usual place in the center chair and said: “Let’s begin. “Jobs 5-22” Mr. B called out, again it was as if Jerld had a magic book, it fell open to the page with that exact verse.
He jump up and started to read and when he had finished he hesitated. Who was he going to kiss, surely not Mr. B.
Mr. B. sensed his predicament, “Jerld usually the only man playing is me, so now that you and Jimmy has joined us, I guess we will have to change the rules a little. If you or Jimmy are first when I am in the center chair you will get your choice of who you want to kiss and put into the center chair.”
As Jerld looked around the room all eyes were staring at him except for Johanna, her head was lowered looking at the floor.

Jerld said: “Don’t worry Jimmy I wouldn’t kiss that mug of yours for a hundred dollars.” I am going to choose the prettiest lady in the room.” With that said he walked over to Mrs. Bailey and said; “May I kiss you?”
There was a loud guffaw from Mr. B. and he said: “You see that girls he has only been here a couple of days and he is trying to steal my Rosie.”
Mrs. Bailey stood up and said; “Mr. B. and I never had a son. So I have never been kissed by anyone else except him and the girls.
Mr. Mitchell I feel it is an honor that you have chosen me out of all these beautiful ladies, so before MR. B. has a fit please do.”
With that Jerld bent over and lightly lifted her hand, as he had seen in the movies, and kissed the back of it.
He then stepped aside, bowed and made sweeping motion with his hand and said: “Your Chair Ma’am.” lifting her hand as she got up from the chair.
MR. B. chuckled: “Well I’ll be, we have Casanova here.”
The game continued until Olivia finally won and when she did she said. “I’m not going to kiss Kaylee, Jimmy hasn’t won yet, so Jimmy I am choosing you.” With that she walked over and planted a big kiss on Jimmy’s cheek and bowed and waved her hand, imitating Jerld and said: “Your Chair Sir.” Jimmy was petrified he couldn’t move or say a word.

His eyes swelled up with tears and his hands shook as if someone or something was rattling them. He tried to talk and his voice trembled so much he became tongue-tied.
Mr. B. seeing this said: “Olivia that is not in the rules so Jimmy doesn’t have to take the center chair.” “Jimmy I hope you don’t mind but we changed one rule tonight so I think that’s enough.”
“Mother do you have our desserts ready for us now?”
“Yes J.B. I do, you all relax now and I will bring it in.” Rose responded. A nervous smile took over Jimmy’s face as he said: “Olivia you had me for a minute, but I was going to try anyway. You see I don’t read to good, but for a kiss like that I would do about anything.” Olivia bent down and kissed him again.
Rose returned from the kitchen with a tray full of pie. The meringue on each slice looked like a huge cloud had settled over the lemon filling. Each piece was about four inches wide at the crust and at least three inches high. The auburn crust had been meticulously rolled into a perfect one-inch ring, resembling a picture frame, surrounding a tantalizing mouthwatering work of stomach art.
Rose, starting with Mr. B. handed a slice the pie, a napkin and a tiny fork to each of them.

When she was done she said: “Honey would you taste it and let us know if it is worth eating. “
Jerld and Jimmy both had already chipped off a piece that was heading for their mouths. Each of them with an appetizing fork full paused midair looked around and noticed that everyone had their desserts perched on their laps. They, almost in unison, slowly let their arms fall to their laps. The tinkling sound of the forks hitting the small china plates sounded like a wind chime to Jerld, but not a head turned.
Everyone, as if they had done it a thousand times eagerly waited for Mr. B. to proclaim the pie all right to eat.
Mr. B. gently cut the tip off his slice and lifted up in the air, looking at it’s texture, then he lowered it to his nose and smelled it, as if it was a bottle of fine wine. In a motion that resembled a bee entering its comb the small fork full of pie flew into his mouth.
Mr. B. in a very exaggerated movement closed his mouth trapping the morsel of dessert and his lips curled into a gigantic smile;
“Rose you have again out did yourself. This is the finest piece of pie I have ever tasted. If every one doesn’t get to eating theirs I’m going to start grabbing theirs and eat them too.” Rose’s face brighten with a smile as everyone franticly dug into the delicious dessert.

Of course Jimmy’s was first to hit his mouth and in a surprising happy voice he said; “The best Mrs. B., the best, it’s as good as my momma’s.”
They ate and talked until it was time for bed. Mr. and Mrs. B. were the first to excuse themselves with a, “Don’t you kids stay up too long.”
Johanna turned to Jerld and asked; “Time for our walk in the back yard?”
It was said as a question and Jerld hesitated momentarily before responding: “Ye-uh sure.”
Kaylee piped up with: “Jimmy lets you and I go out front and sit in the swing.” Jimmy smiled and looked at Jerld and said; “You bet.”
Johanna led Jerld out into the back yard. Jerld looked around, it was a beautiful back yard. The projects where he had grown up had no back yards. There was only a front parking lot; a back parking lot and the children’s play area. At one time the play area must have had grass, but over the years through neglect the grass was now dirt on sunny days and mud on the rainy days. Even now the smaller kids in the projects think of it as a wonderful place to play, they have nothing else.
Looking around the yard it was evident that Mr. and Mrs. B. must have a great deal of pride in their home and its surroundings. The yard was about seventy-five feet wide in both directions.

In one corner there was a small glassed in house. Jerld marveled at it, he had never seen so much unbroken glass in his life. In the windowed house stood numerous flowerpots all perfectly lined up in several rows. Each row had a different color flower interspersed with pots filled with a variety of green leaf plants.
There was one plant that stood as high as his shoulders and it had several rose colored flowers that were as big as a pie plate. The flowers were so heavy each one had to be tied up to a separate stake to support it. Jerld thought to himself: “Momma would love this place.”
In the opposite corner stood a miniature house that was a duplicate of the one they had just left. It also showed a little weathering but structurally it appeared to be well built. There were several windows that were closed and again to Jerld’s amazement none were broken.
In the center of all this sat something Jerld had never seen before, it looked a lot like a merry-go-round that he had seen at a street carnival in Gary when he was a very small kid. But this was different; it didn’t have any small fake horses and other animals for kids to sit on. Instead it had a small picket fence that surrounded a sitting area and a roof that looked like a church steeple with a black iron rooster sitting on its peak. This merry-go-round did not move.

Jerld’s train of thought was broken when he heard Johanna say; “Lets sit in the Gazebo I have to explain something to you.” She walked over to the white merry-go-round and climbed up a step and sat down on the small bench that encircled the inside of it.
Jerld sat down next to her, but because of the roundness of the floor he also was turned so he was looking at her at the same time. He felt uneasy and waited for her to talk first. After several minutes of her looking down at the floor she looked up with tears in her eyes and said: “Jerld I’m sorry.”
Jerld had seen many women cry before, but Johanna’s crying was not a hysterical cry. The kind where there is screaming and flailing of the arms. She didn’t sob like he had heard at the funerals that his mother had taken him to. Her cry was a silent, chest heaving, breaking down of her pride and her womanhood. Jerld let her cry for a few minutes then he reached over and cupped her hands in his and said: “About what Johanna, about what?”
Johanna still looking into his eyes said: “David my poor David.” Jerld had thought he had misunderstood her and that she had meant to say Jerld.
“Johanna you don’t have to feel sorry for me. I love it here and what we did earlier was great, but I think we need to talk about it, don’t you?”
The tears shot out of her eyes like a yard sprinkler.

She smiled in a sympathetic way and said: “No Jerld it’s not you its David my boyfriend and hopefully soon to be husband.”
“Until five months ago David was my boyfriend, we had known each other since grade school.”
“We really hadn’t associated with each other until I went to college at Northwestern University. I had only spoken to him a few times before seeing him in one of my college classes. According to Daddy he was not good enough for me. He never said that in so many words, but I just could tell Daddy thought we were better then David’s family.”
“Being the only familiar face in the class, I went over and sat by him hoping he could help me if there was a need. In grade school David was considered a Nerd and sort of kept to himself.
He graduated high school at the top of our class and received several scholarship offers, accepting one to Northwestern to study Pre-Med.”
Jerld wondered what did this have to do with him. As he looked into Johanna’s now drying eyes he said “Go on.”
She continued: “We started to talk in class and before long we were meeting in at the library to do our homework. That eventually led to us riding the “El”, elevated train, home together each day.”

“Two years had past and my mother and dad knew I had a boyfriend and were patiently waiting to meet him. I was not sure how Daddy would accept him so I put it off as long as I could.”
“There was this beautiful park just two blocks from here. Every day David would walk me home through that park so we could share some intimate time alone. We would hold hands and kiss whenever we were alone and that is as far as it would go.”
“One day as we walked out of the woods there stood my mother and father; they had decided to take a walk in the woods that evening also.
When they spotted David and I together it was from a distance and they were unable to see David closely.”
Daddy hollered out: “Look Rosie we finally caught Johanna and her boyfriend,” and they hurriedly approached us. I was shaking like a leaf and still holding David hand when Daddy got close enough to see David’s face.”
He screamed: “Damn you, get away from my daughter.” He then walked up as close as possible to David, grabbed my arm pulling me away from David and slapped David as hard as he could in the face.”
“Rose take Johanna home.” Pointing to David he said: “We are going talk.” “I had never seen my Dad so mad his whole body was shaking and my Mother said: “Let’s go Johanna, we need to get home, “Now.”

My mother had never shouted at us girls but her “NOW” was as loud as I had ever heard her speak. I tried to pull loose from her grip but it was like five chains wrapped tightly around my arm and felt like they could guillotine my upper arm in half. It was no use to struggle I knew my mother would drag me home if necessary.”
“I was to learn later, from David, that my father, now standing nose to nose with David, spewed out pure hatred as if he was a torturer getting ready to kill a man he hated vehemently.”
David told me, Daddy through clenched teeth said: “It was you people who killed many of my friends and two of my brothers, whenever I see people of our color I want to vomit. I do my best to contain my terrible dislike for your race, but I will not allow my daughter to be seen with you or even have my name associated with your kind in any way.”
With his venom spilling out into the chilly night air my father began to pummel David’s face. “David was much smaller then his aggressor, if he stood straight up and loaded his pockets with gold he would only be about five foot six inches and weigh one hundred and thirty pounds.”
“There he stood defenseless being beaten by a man twice his size. Finally David said he went down, and looking up he met eye to eye with a crazed black monster that wanted to kill him.”

“David would not let his attacker bring him down to his level. He looked up and through his bloody eyes and swollen lips and said; “May God forgive you.”
“It was as if a sledgehammer had hit my Father on the head. He stumbled back and grabbed his mouth as he whispered, “Oh My God, Oh My God,” he then turned and staggered away as if he had been the one who had been beaten.”

Chapter Eighteen: Racists Come in all Colors.

“David told me that he laid where he was for a few minutes, feeling his face and trying to wipe away the blood that caked his nose and eyes. It felt like several teeth had been loosened, but at least they were all still there. David slowly got up and was surprised that he didn’t have much pain, which was to come the next day. David shuffled his way back through the woods and to his apartment.”
Johanna said: “When they had gotten home her mother didn’t say anything except: “Get up to bed before your Daddy comes home.”
Johanna got undressed and was just crawling into bed when she heard her mother open the front door. Then her father’s voice crying said: “Rose, Rose, my God Rose I almost beat that young man to death.”
Then there was silence except for a quiet murmur of two voices reading the Scriptures. “The Lord is my Shepard, I shall not want he maketh me to lie down beside still waters…………. The voices trailed off into nowhere.”
Johanna continued: “The next morning I got up and went down to breakfast. When I got to the table my sisters and mother were there but my father was gone. Mother said: “Your father had some early business to take care of.”
“Girls before we eat I have something I would like to tell you.”

“Last night your father did something that he is terribly sorry about and it’s time you were told why he feels so strongly against people like Johanna’s boyfriend.”
Kaylee and Olivia just looked at each other as if to ask: “How did they find out?”
Mother continued, “ When the Second World War started your father was only sixteen years old, but he went immediately to the recruiting office to enlist in the Navy, his two older brothers were all ready in the Navy stationed at Pearl Harbor. Because of his age he wasn’t allowed to enlist. This crushed your Father he wanted to fight for his country.”
“As the war in Europe rage on he followed it progress closely, always wondering if there was anyway he could enlist in the Navy with his brothers. So he too could protect his country, when and if they became involved in the war. Then December 7, 1941 came and Pearl Harbor was attacked by Japan. The next day, even though he was only seventeen, with his parent’s permission he enlisted. When he went to the recruiting station they were only excepting enlistments in the Army that day. He felt that he could serve his country just as well in the Army so he signed up to leave the next day.”
“The second day he was in boot camp he received word that his two brothers had been killed in the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor.”

“Although this was devastating to him it made him more determined to do what ever he could to end the war. When he had completed his boot camp they let each new recruit choose what branch of the Army they wanted to serve in. He chose the Army Air Corps thinking he would learn how to fly.”
“He did get to fly, but not as a pilot. He was assigned to a cargo plane that did nothing but transport body bags filled with soldiers killed in battle. The men assigned to this duty were called the Death Squad.”
“My sisters and I sat entranced in what my Mother was telling us. Our Daddy had always been a very quiet man and had never spoke of the war in front of us,” Then she continued with what her mother had said: “Day after day they would fly into a staging area to pick up a plane load of soldiers who had made the ultimate sacrifice for their country. It was your father’s job, along with several other soldiers, to load and stack the body bags till they had a minimum ninety-one bodies. During the trip back to a neutral base your father was assigned to sit in the back with the dead, he said he had cried until his eyes were swollen. Each bag had a tag with the soldier’s name and the city and state he was from, written on it. “
“If a bag looked like it was in an awkward or uncomfortable position your father would do his best to straighten it into a position that seemed more natural.”

“As he did this he would talk to each one. “Sergeant Bryan Howard, I hope you have wonderful weather when you get home to Texas.” “Or he would say, “Private Jacob Jones, I hope that makes you more comfortable.”
“He did this as his way of honoring them and to help him keep his sanity. Knowing that his plane would hold ninety-one bodies he started to keep track of the bodies by drawing a small star on the inside wall of the plane’s fuselage for each trip his squad made. After several months the inside wall of the plane was covered with the stars. Your father hated his job but to him it was a way to provide service to his country and respect to the dead soldiers. Someone had to do it and right now that someone was him. So he would do his very best to make the soldiers’ last flight an honorable one. “
After they had reached their destination and the bodies were unloaded and lying on the tarmac, your father would say a prayer for them and with tears filling his eyes he would snap to attention and salute them. “
“He made a vow to them that if the chance ever came for him he would do whatever he could to avenge their deaths.”
“After the war was over and he came back home he always remembered that promise he had made and felt a terrible sadness that he wasn’t ever able to keep it.”

“That morning when mother had finished telling us this sad story we all sat silent, now knowing why our father never spoke of the war or Japan or had anything to do with the Japanese people. Then I knew why my father was so angry when he saw me with David. You see David’s full name was David Allen Yasamoto. He was an American born citizen of Japanese parents,” Johanna said.
“I saw David one more time after that and we again walked through the same woods, holding hands, as he explained to me what had happen that night. As he described what happened and what his feelings were for me I could feel, in his hands, the hatred that he now had for my father. When he talked of the beating he had suffered, it was almost as if he hated me, he held my hand so tightly it was as if he was getting back at my father by hurting me. When he had finished we both knew that the love we had for each other had been tarnished and that it was over between us. We kissed and he bowed and said: “I am sorry my flower, the soil of our love has been poisoned,” with that he turned and walked away.”
“I sat down on the ground and cried as I had never cried before. Then as I struggled to get up a feeling of hatred for my father came upon me.”
“I didn’t have to struggle to raise any longer, suddenly my spine stiffened and my body became rigid.

I stood very straight and stiff and I also made a vow.”
“I would get even with my father someday I would hurt someone my father was very fond of. Jerld, that someone was you.”
She lowered her head and the tears again began drop to the white floor of the Gazebo.
“Jerld that is why I acted the way I did the other night. During dinner I could see and feel a kinship that was beginning to form between you and my Father. It made me angry, it should have been David receiving his adoration not you. Jerld there was no love involved in what we did the other night. It was just my desire to control anyone who had gained my father’s affection,” Without a pause she said: “Jerld I hope you understand and can forgive me.”
Jerld lifted her head and looked into her eyes and said: “I do and I will always remember what you have told me. The last few days have been some of the best days of my life. Love, Life, and Death all had different meanings to me before your family accepted Jimmy and me.”
Jerld grabbed her hand and said: “Let’s go back in.”
When Jerld and Johanna entered the house they heard laughing and a sort of cackling going on in the front yard they walked to the front door just in time to hear Mr. B’s voice booming out the upstairs bedroom window.

“Be quiet out there, some of our neighbors might want to get some sleep.”
There stood Jimmy with his legs spread wide and hands on his hips in what use to be his meanest ready to fight stance.
The way Jimmy looked now would not have even scared a baby squirrel. He was standing in the middle of a pile of dried leaves that had not been disposed of. Leaves scattered all over the yard and Jimmy and the girls were covered with them.
Jimmy sounded like a wounded goose; his attempt to sound mean was destroyed by his smiling eyes and his chortling. He would growl, “Don’t do that again or I’ll get you.” Then he again would be bombarded by arms full leaves, by Kaylee and Lig. It was apparent that this had been going on for some time. They had reached the bottom of the pile, which still had mostly wet leaves. The leaves stuck to Jimmy and the girl as if they were multicolored combat patches from a leaf war that was destined not to have any winners.
When Mr. B. shut the window it all started again with whispered taunts and threats coming from the combatants.
Jerld and Johanna stepped out on the porch and when Jimmy and the girls saw them they stopped for a second until Lig said: “Let’s get them.”

Then the leaf war escalated into a full battle of Jimmy’s troops against Johanna and Jerld’s outnumbered army. The battle continued until Jerld screamed. “We surrender, we surrender.”
Then from the closed bedroom window Mr. .B’s was heard, “Its about time, I was getting envious.” Rose rolled over and wrapped her arms around Mr. B. and said: “Are you now.”
The girls decided it was time for bed so they each said good night and as Kaylee walked by Jimmy she tussled his hair and said: “You’re not so tough.” Jimmy shrunk away, looking up responded: “Get away before I drag you into that big pile of leaves in the woods”
Kaylee just smiled and said: “Hum that might be fun.” and then ran into the house.
Jerld and Jimmy sat on the swing and said nothing for several minutes. Then Jimmy broke the silence: “Jerld this is good.” Jerld responded in a very sad tone of voice, that Jimmy recognized immediately, “Yes Jimmy this is very good, it’s a shame we hadn’t met Mr. B. and his family several years ago.”

Chapters 15 & 16 --- Book now on sale at: www.lulu.com/content/1262992

2007-10-07T18:10:00.000-07:00

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Chapter Fifteen: Third Floor Family

Clarence walked down the hall at a fast pace; it was if he had to get some place before it was too late. Jerld and Jimmy followed and were surprised that Clarence could walk as fast as he did and not be winded. They walked the entire length of the third floor’s main hallway and at the end there was a single door with a sign attached on the wall next to it. It read “Servant’s Quarters.”
Clarence could read the boys mind, “It’s been here for forty years, every since they built this hotel. Don’t let it bother you. You will enjoy working on this floor after you learn who the nice ones are, and who are the bitches. Luckily we only have a couple bitches staying here right now.”
The door opened into a small room that was painted in many different colors of white. It made you feel like you were in a hospital room except for a desk that was made of black marble. Sitting behind the desk was a leather-upholstered chair, which was also black. Both appeared to be very old but were in excellent condition. In the corner of the room was a small cot type bed and next to it was another upholstered chair, they both were covered with a black floral design sheet.
“This is where you boys stay. All you need to do is answer that phone on the desk whenever it rings and then do whatever the ladies ask.”

Take a tip from me, if you are polite and gain their trust, most every time you help them they will tip you very generously. Never ask for a tip just hold out your hand like this.” Clarence held his right hand waist high and close to his body with the palm up.
“If they do not offer a tip, after a few seconds put your hand down and ask them if they need anything else and then leave. You will do fine and make good money if you just treat everyone the same, with respect, and if you are always courteous. They all will come around when they become comfortable with both of you. It’s all yours, you work until 6:00pm when Mr. Bailey goes home. Remember service with a smile.”
Clarence turned and started back towards the elevator, after a few steps he turned and said, “ The food here is delicious, just go down to the kitchen on the first floor when you’re hungry, but only one of you at a time.” With that he had reached the elevator and turned and smiled a big smile and slowly disappeared behind the elevator doors.
“Servant my ass, I ain’t nobody’s flunky ass servant. Jerld what are we going to do? I ain’t gonna be some old rich bitch’s slave.”
Jimmy was angry and Jerld had to be careful how he handled Jimmy.
“Yeah you’re right, let’s just see what its like for a few days and then we’ll fly this chicken coop.”

Jimmy smiled as if they had just planned a get-a-way, he went over and plopped on the bed and said, “Yeah you’re right, you do the servanting and I’ll just catch some shut eye. Wake me when its time to eat.”
Ring- ring- ring ba-ring, the black phone on the desk was shivering as it rang. Jerld pick up the phone and said, “Yes Ma’am, what is it you need?”
He had never talked like that before in his life, it just came out of his mouth startling both Jimmy and him.
“This is Mrs. Wells in 302, I need a couch moved could you help?”
“Yes Ma’am, we will be right there,” hanging up the phone he said, Jimmy get up we got work to do.”
They both casually walked down to a cross hallway and there at the corner was a room numbered 302. Jerld knocked and heard “Come in” it was a voice of an older woman and had a friendly quality to it.
Jerld slowly opened the door and there in the center of the room was a rowing machine and perched on top of it was a woman, Jerld guessed her to be around 60 years old.
She had a beautiful face, even though it showed some wrinkles near the corners of her eyes and below her chin.
Her hair, with its specks of gray, and the older looking skin were the only things that gave her age away.

Her body was wrapped in a towel and it was clear that she must have just worked up a sweat from exercising.
She had very shapely legs and a figure to go with them. Jerld and Jimmy stopped dead and just stood admiring this elderly beauty.
“Excuse the way I look boys, I always exercise in the nude so I can just jump in the shower when I am done.” She said it in a manner that was not at all suggestive.
It was just an explanation of her lack of attire. She held out her hand to Jimmy to be helped up from the rowing machine and pulled herself upright with very little effort. When she stood she was even more beautiful then she first appeared. She was as tall as Jerld and it was apparent that there wasn’t an ounce of fat on her body. Her skin seemed to settle back in place giving her the look of a smooth satin sheet that had only been laid on for a few seconds, leaving just a few character wrinkles. Her black skin glistened in the fluorescent light.
“Let me get dressed and I will show you what I need moved” She turned and sauntered into an adjoining bedroom. Jerld and Jimmy just stood and looked at each other and smiled.
“God damn Jerld she’s beautiful, I felt as if I was going to bust a hole in these old pants of Clarence’s.”

“I had to keep my hands down in front of me so she wouldn’t see my “Old Riley Starting to Rise.”
“I’ll do what ever she wants and she don’t have to tip me, never.” Jimmy whispered in an excited voice.
Jerld just smiled and waited patiently for Mrs. Wells to return.
For some reason Jerld felt uneasy the way Jimmy was talking. When he used the word God, Jerld felt a queasy lump in his throat as if he didn’t like the way it was used. He had cussed every since he was little shit, but in this place and working for Bailey it just didn’t seem right.
Just then Mrs. Wells came back into view, she was gorgeous. She had put on a white one-piece sweat suit that looked as if it had been molded to her body. It was obvious that she wore nothing underneath. Her hair shined with wet droplets of water and the material of her sweat suit clung to her body as if she had just threw it on without bothering to towel off.
Her pulled back hair was held in place by a braided gold band.
This matched the chain that dangled from her neck and laid precariously in the deep gorge between her proudly displayed breasts.
The sweat suit had a full zippered front, which was unzipped almost to the waist, but was stopped by a huge golden colored belt. There was no doubt that she was dressed to impress and she did that very well.

“You boys will get tired of seeing me before long; I am always having to move furniture around to make room for my hobbies. I just bought a new tread mill and I have to move that couch,” she said pointing at a big corner sectional couch.
Jerld and Jimmy both looked at each other and knew what each was thinking, “Tired, I don’t think so,” then in step with each other, as if marching, they hurriedly took there positions at each end of the couch.
She directed them to where she wanted the couch and two small end tables placed. She then asked if they would mind going into the bedroom and bringing out her newly purchased tread mill. She led the way and sat on the bed crossing her legs. The bedroom was totally white everything was painted white including the furniture. There were two full-length mirrors and each had elaborately decorated white frames. In the room the boys saw only two other colors, the gold worn by Mrs. Wells and her golden brown skin.
She didn’t sit on the bed she seductively posed.
“The tread mill is in that closet, its heavy so be careful with it,” she said matter-of-factly. Jimmy opened the closet and peered in, except for the treadmill, he could see only shoes. Racks of every brand and style of shoe, but there were in only three colors, black, white, and gold.

Jimmy and Jerld pulled the treadmill out of the closet and then lifted it so as not to tear the carpet. It was heavy and if it wasn’t for Jimmy’s strong arms, Jerld was sure it would not have been possible for him to move it by himself.
Mrs. Wells directed them exactly where to place it and said, “Thanks Boys that will be fine.”
She reached into a purse that was sitting on a small table next to the front door and took out two tens and handed one each to Jerld and Jimmy. Jerld started to say, “You don’t,” then he paused and said “Is there anything else you need Ma’am.”
With a smile that could heat up a man stranded at the North Pole she replied, “Not at this moment, maybe some other time.” She slowly closed the door. The last thing they saw of her was her slim hand lightly gripping edge of the door, and at that instant Jerld thought he saw a finely manicured middle finger raise ever so slightly to wave a promising good-by.
Jimmy just couldn’t stop talking about Mrs. Wells he described what they both had seen over and over. Jerld didn’t agree with what Jimmy thought he had seen. What Jimmy described sounded like a well-preserved whore on the make.

What Jerld saw was beautiful woman who was confident in herself and knew that even at her age any man would enjoy a night alone with her. Jerld had not made up his mind if she was for real with her sexual act, which was a promise of things to come. Or was it just that, an act that she did to keep herself young. Either way Jerld knew from his first sight of her he like her. He also so knew that they would be friends and for some reason it didn’t necessarily have to be any thing more then that.
Jerld walked a little in front of Jimmy heading back to their room at the end of the hall.
As he walked he counted doors making sure to look down the adjacent hallways. The highest room number he saw was 315 and the lowest was 300 so he figured there must be 15 suites on the third floor. All of the doors were exactly the same except one, room 315. It sat at the end of a cross hallway and instead of one door it had two. It had a peephole but it was mounted only about waist high. Jerld wondered who lived in that room, maybe a midget widow.
When they got back to their little cubbyhole of an office, Jerld took a seat in the desk chair and Jimmy again sprawled on the small bed. A book with a red ribbon for a bookmarker sat on the desk, Jerld pick it up to see what was in it.

It open to where it was marked by the ribbon and at the top of the page were the words, Mrs. Joseph (Marianna) Will, Owners mother, Room 315.
Below was a list approximately 20 lines long starting with Line one. Does not tip. Then in little print, “Don’t accept if she offers, JB.” The next line read, “Must have flowers from the lobby daily.” The lines continued noting various information or instructions for room 315. The last line read, “Ask maid to help place Mrs. Will in bed, the seat of her wheelchair must be cleaned and deodorize before going home each day.” “That answers why the low door peephole, she must be a cripple,” Jerld thought.
Jerld continued reading the book finding a few pages listing only a room number, nothing else. He figured they must be vacant rooms. In the back of the book was a page that listed each room number and the occupant’s name. There was a gold star by eight of the rooms indicating they were permanent residents of the hotel.
Another four were marked only with a penciled check mark. Jerld assumed that these were temporary occupants and the remaining three rooms must be vacant.
There was a knock on the door of the little office and it startled Jimmy from a snoring good sleep.

He had gone to sleep the minute he and Jerld had gotten back to their office. Jimmy sat up and looked around the room for Jerld, he was nowhere to be seen.
The knock was a little harder this time, but with the light sound of the knuckles striking the metal door it was easy to figure out it was a knock of an elderly woman. A small voice softly asked, “Is any one there?”
Jimmy grunted, “Yeah give me a minute.” He stumbled towards the door, trying to straighten up his shirt and jacket while he walked. He reached for the door and tugged but it would not move, he looked down and saw there was a self-locking slide bar on the door.
As he pushed on it he chuckled to himself, “It must be there to keep all the old women out.”
Opening the door he saw a woman who could not have been much over five feet tall and wasn’t as big around as one of his legs. She stepped back when she saw Jimmy, “Where is Harold, I need to see Harold.”
“My name is Jimmy, I don’t know any Harold, Is there something I could do for you Ma’am?” he asked.
Jimmy could see she was frightened of him and it made him mad and a little sorry for this old lady. He did his best to smile and said, “I am one of the new boys, is there something you need?”

All the time he was looking around for Jerld wishing he would show up. He had a better way with these old people.
The old lady got some of her composure back and stood up as tall as she could and said, “Harold would have had by paper here by now, can you see that I get the Tribune, I have to see how my stocks are doing. My name is Miss Leslie and I am in room 306.” she turned and strutted back towards her room. Jimmy thought it was funny seeing someone her size strutting with steps not even six inches apart.
“Where in the hell would her paper be?” Jimmy thought to himself. Then he remembered that there were newspapers on the long counter where they first came in.
He walked to the elevator and pressed the button and in a few minutes the doors opened and there stood Jerld looking out with a food tray in each hand.
“So you finally decided to get up, huh?” Jerld teased. “Here I got your lunch from the kitchen ya can’t believe all the food they have down there.”
Jimmy grabbed a few French fries and said, “I got ta go get some old lady a paper, and I’ll be right back.” He hit the button that said lobby and stood munching on the fries as the doors closed. When the elevator doors opened he could see the papers were still sitting on the counter.

Walking over to them he saw that the hotel was much more active then when they had come in that morning. There were people standing at the counter and just about every chair was full in the large lobby.
Jimmy walked up to Donald the Desk Clerk and said, “Miss Leslie wants her Tribune.”
Donald said “Oh yeah Harold’s not working the third floor anymore. Its over in the second stack and you might as well grab a couple more for Mrs. Cox in Room 309 and Mrs. Sostrum in 312.”
Jimmy walked over and grabbed three papers and then returned to the elevator and stepped in and was about to close the door when Donald came hurrying towards the elevator. “You must not use this elevator when you are working, it’s for our guests.
There is one behind the kitchen that is for the help.”
“Tell your partner, I saw him going up carrying a couple of trays a minute ago, the help are not allowed to use this elevator.”
“Follow me.” he said, turned towards a door just to the right of the elevators identified by a sign on it that read, “Employees Only.” He opened the door and pointed to a small door at the rear of a small hallway. “That’s the kitchen and the employee elevator is in the back.”
The door swung shut and Jimmy and his papers were alone.

Jimmy lifted the papers over his head and was about to slam them to the floor when out of the kitchen door walked Mr. Bailey.
Jimmy could see the questioning look in Bailey’s eyes, then a smile, "You must have Miss Leslie’s paper. I’m sorry I didn’t take the time to see that you and Jerld were told more about what your duties would be. Come with me I’ll show where “our” elevator is.”
Jimmy exploded. “What the fuck do you mean “our” elevator? Do they have elevators just for us niggers in this place?”
Bailey just pushed open the door to the kitchen without even a flinch indicating that he had heard Jimmy’s tirade. He calmly walked to rear of the kitchen to an elevator that was much bigger then the lobby elevators.
It was old and had hundreds of scratches all over the walls.
There was no doubt that these walls had been bumped by many steel kitchen carts, over the years.
Bailey punched the “up” button and when the doors opened he stepped back and allowed Jimmy to enter first. Then he entered and pushed the door close button but did not press a floor number button.
He turned and looked at Jimmy and said, “Son look around this elevator. It is my chariot to glory, every time I am lucky enough to get in it for a ride, I say a little prayer.

It has given me many wonderful memories in the last forty years.” “See that long scratch beside the door?” he asked pointing at a long gouge. “Thirty-five years ago my wife Rose and I put that there. We both had been working late; she and I had just finished cleaning up a couple of rooms on your floor, the third. We had our mop buckets and the laundry cart with us and we were tired and just wanted to get home to a good nights rest. Well I suddenly got this terrible pain in my chest and dropped to my knees. The pain was horrible and I fell to the ground and started to pass out. I remember seeing Rose climb on top of me and with her hands she was pushing on my chest and was crying and screaming for help. I could feel the elevator come to a stop and by the light I could see the door had opened. “
Rose was still on top of me pushing as hard as could, trying everything she knew to keep my heart pumping. She would push and scream, “Help me someone, help.”
“She knew if she stopped pushing on my chest I would die. We were all alone in the hotel kitchen; everyone else had left or had turned in for the night. It seemed like hours, I found out later actually about twenty minutes, she would push and scream until her voice was weak but she would not give up.” “Then she realized that the steel laundry cart was directly behind her and her voice was almost a whisper by now.

So she sat straddle of me and she would push and then throw herself back against the laundry cart slamming it against the elevator wall with her head and back.”
“She kept this up until Clarence, in his apartment downstairs heard the noise and came to see what was happening. Clarence said when he got here the back of Rose’s head was a bloody pulp and her shoulders looked as if she had been beaten by a whip. Clarence tried to help her off of me, but when he did she pulled away from him, whimpering “Don’t go, Bailey don’t go” and continued her rhythmic push, push, push. Looking up just once she said, “Call an ambulance” as she kept pushing on my chest. When the ambulance got here they took both of us to the hospital.
When we got there we were placed in a hallway next to each other, on two small beds.”
“Lying there just barely alive not even able to raise my head enough to see Rose in the bed next to me.
I felt her hand tightly gripping my arm, not wanting to let go for fear that God would yank me away. That’s when I heard a doctor’s voice far away say “I think the lady is going to die from her injuries, she sure did every thing she could to save her husband.” “Rose is still alive because of God and I am still alive because of Rose.”

“Well Jimmy I think we better get Miss Leslie’s paper to her before she gets upset. Her stock might have only made her few thousand today, and she will probably be upset anyway.” Bailey offered.
Jimmy didn’t say a word he just stared at the gouge in the elevator wall.

Chapter Sixteen: All In A Day‘s Work.

Jimmy and Bailey went to Miss Leslie’s room and dropped off her newspaper. She wanted to talk so after a few minutes Bailey turned to Jimmy and said, “Miss Leslie and I have a few things to discuss, would you see if there is anything else you and Jerld may have to do.”
Miss Leslie stopped him and said, “Wait one moment please” and then ducked out of sight behind the door. Bailey winked at Jimmy and smiled. Miss Leslie reappeared with two one dollar bills in her hand she handed Bailey one and Jimmy the other. Bailey accepted the dollar as if it was a hand full of them and said, “Miss Leslie you are so nice, thank you very much.”
Jimmy thought to himself “What’s with this guy, it’s only a buck, I bet he could buy and sell her,” but as he reached to accept his dollar he saw a smile of pure delight from Miss Leslie as she said, “You boys work so hard it’s the least I can do.” He now knew why Mr. “B” acted so thankful, he received pleasure in pleasing Miss Leslie.
Jimmy thanked her and he couldn’t explain why, but he had this warm feeling as he left and headed toward the small office.
The two remaining newspapers still dangled under his arm. He didn’t know which rooms Mrs. Cox and Sostrum were in; he’d check the book and then deliver their papers.

When he walked into the room Jerld had already eaten and there were fries and a couple of burgers left for him. He picked them up along with a can of Coke, walked over to the chair next to the bed and settled in.
As he was grabbing for his second burger, he heard an “Oh shit they found “Nads”, Jimmy they finally found “Nads”. He was holding one of the newspapers in front of his face and had opened it to a middle page.
“Jimmy listen” as he read from the paper. “A known drug dealer was found shot to death in the southern section of Gary, Indiana this morning. The death appears to be a drug related homicide due to it being an execution style, killing. Police sources identified the deceased as Jerome “Nads” Styles no address was given. Styles was described as an enforcer for one of Gary’s largest drug dealers. He was considered a prime suspect in three other Gary murders in the last eighteen months. Sergeant David Justice a spokesman for the police department said at the present time they have no suspects.”
Jerld put down the newspaper and leaned back in the desk chair. He was worried and did not want Jimmy to see it.
He said in a very solemn voice, “When we were in school, playing ball in the school yard, do you remember how Nads would be sitting on the “picking bench,” waiting for you and the other guys to show up start choosing sides.

“All of a sudden he says, “I better get up, I don’t want to get picked by no losers.” “I told him to sit back down and he did, then he saw you, Morphy, Jersy and Joel walking up and he jump up and said, “I have to fly.” “He then went to back corner of the yard and just stood and watched. After we had picked sides, and it was you and I against the other three, I turned to call for Nads and he was gone.”
Jerld continued, “Later that after noon Nads came over to the house and seemed to be acting strange. I asked him what was wrong and he just nodded his head indicating nothing. After a few minutes he asked if we could go shoot a few hoops in the alley. We walked out back and as usual there several basketballs lying around. I grabbed one, but Nads didn’t pick up one, he just went and stood under the basket to catch for me. I grabbed another ball and threw it to him and told him to shoot a few and he said, “Basketball is for losers and I ain’t no loser.”
We stayed there until dark with me shooting and him catching and throwing them back to me.
We talked about everything from our mamas to our dreams.
Every so often I would throw him the ball and say “Ten seconds left shoot” he would smile raise the ball above his head as if he was going to shoot to win the game, but at the last second he would turn and throw it to me.

It got dark and we could barely see the rim and I would say we had to go in and he would just grin and say “Five seconds shoot” and if I made it, he would holler “we win, we win.” Then he would act as if his pass to me had really won a real b-ball game.”
“I think old Nads would have stayed out in that alley shooting baskets all nights. The more we played the more excited he would get. One shot swished the net just as he looked up; the ball smacked him square in the face. When I got to him he had tears in his eyes and a smile so big he looked like he was all teeth. He just said “I got an elbow, J” you know rebounding is tough.” He threw the ball back to me saying “Five seconds. “J” Five seconds”
It finally got to dark to see and I wanted to get in, so when he passed the ball back to me, I purposely missed the basket by several feet. The ball went rolling down the alley and I’ll never forget the look on Nads’, face he turned and said “What ever I do I always end up a looser.” Then Jimmy do you know what he did?
He walked over and hugged me and said. “Thanks for picking me “J”, and turned and walked down the alley. As he walked away I could barely see him, but I saw his silhouette stop and pick up an imaginary ball and take a shot at an imaginary basket. You could see him jumping up and down with his arms pumping the air.

I then heard “Styles shoots and it’s in, Jerome Styles wins the game.”
“Jimmy it was only a few days after that you and I made our split from school and other then a few times on the street Nads and I never spoke much to each other. Except when he would see me he would say quietly “Five seconds “J” five seconds,” then would click his tongue and wink.” What do think would have happened if he would have just stayed on the “Picking Bench” that one night?” Jerld asked. “It would have made the sides even, three on three; maybe Nads could have made the shot to win the game. If he did he might have been another Oscar Roberson. Who knows?”
The phone jangled and Jerld put down the paper and answered, “Yes, How can we help you?” It was a gruff voice that answered. “This is Mrs. Sostrum and the desk said you have my paper I would like it now.” the phone clunked as if it had been abruptly put down.
Jerld looked up the room number for Sostrum and said; “She’s just a couple of doors down don’t move you little ass I’ll take her, her paper.”
Jimmy grunted and turned over facing the wall and let out a very exaggerated snore. Mrs. Sostrum was a big woman and was in her late seventies. She opened the door to it widest, as if she wanted Jerld to see that she was an imposing figure and it worked.

Jerld handed her the paper and said: “I’m sorry we were busy and I had not had a chance to deliver your paper.”
Mrs. Sostrum looked him in the eye and grumbled, “You picked up my paper twenty-one minutes ago, I checked. From now on I expect you to be timelier,” and she shut the door.
Jerld made a mental note, “I’m going to get that old bitch to like me,” he didn’t know why it was important to him, it just was.
The rest of the Day seemed too past quickly. Other then a few small jobs Jerld and Jimmy spent most of it sitting in their small room. Jerld, reading and Jimmy sleeping or at least pretending to sleep. Jerld didn’t mind it he was beginning to enjoy the work.
Jimmy was standing looking out the window when he saw Mr. B. pull up in front of the hotel entrance.
Jerld was studying the book listing the third floor residents when Jimmy said: “Looks like Mr. B is ready to go home.”
Jerld glanced up at the clock hanging above the doorway. “Jimmy its 6:00 we have to hurry Mr. Bailey does not like to be late.”
“Fuck Mr. Bailey,” Jimmy said and then he was sorry that he had said it. He didn’t like being told what to do or where to go by anyone, but Jerld. Now Bailey was doing it and it pissed him off.

Even though it angered him there was something in the back of his mind that was telling him that what Bailey was doing was for his own good.
“Jerld, I’m sorry that I said that. The old fart isn’t a bad guy.
It just gets under my skin when you seemed to jump every time he calls”
“That’s OK we have a lot of things going right now and we need to let our anger out every so often so we don’t explode. Just remember Mr. Bailey is family and he is doing what he thinks is best for us.”
“Where else can we get paid to go into a beautiful woman’s room and gawk at her standing naked, wrapped only in a towel”?
Jerld looked and Jimmy and saw the corners his mouth turn up, but this time it wasn’t a smile it was a sneer and Jerld didn’t like what he saw.
Since their first experience with the “Twins” Jimmy and Jerald had shared several women. A few times together they had even shared a bed with a nice piece of ass while both sampled her “Love Offerings.
None of those “Dirty Tails” meant anything to either one of them. They were nothing more than a little “Pleasure Pussy” for them to use for the night. If Jimmy thought that Jerld really liked a lady he would keep his distance until he knew for sure. Jerld arranged every piece of ass Jimmy had ever sampled.

If some cunt was pursuing Jerld he would tell her to bring a friend for Jimmy and they always did.
Somehow when Mrs. Wells became the target of Jimmy’s sexual fantasies, it bothered Jerld. It wasn’t that he himself had a craving to taste her often-exhibited wares.
It was because for some reason he felt a need to protect her in her vulnerable lonely years. Jerld didn’t understand why he felt that way. It could be that down deep he had a feeling that her sumptuous ways resulted from a prolonged loneliness since her husband had passed away.
If Mrs. Wells wasn’t careful someone might take her up on her perceived invitation to do an under the covers dance. She may think she is just playing a little sex-taunting game with the males she meets.
But she has to be very cautious that she doesn’t pick the wrong partner, they may play by a different set of rules.
Jerld and Jimmy scampered out the door and climbed into the backseat of the old Buick.
Mr. Bailey never uttered a word, he just turned on the radio and the black gospel music filled the interior of the car. “Just trust in Jesus and he will lead, Just trust in Jesus when you’re in need. Just trust in Jesus ever day.”

Then Mr. B. chimed in: “Just trust in Jesus and you’ll find your way.”
Jerld who had been looking out the window suddenly with a feeling he couldn’t understand echoed the words: “Just trust in Jesus your cares are gone. Just trust in Jesus you can’t go wrong.”
Then to both Mr. Bailey’s and Jerld’s surprise another voice joined in with them in almost a whisper.
“Just trust in Jesus…” Jimmy sang with his hands covering his lips as if he was embarrassed to have anyone see his lips moving. Soon the radio seemed to get louder and so did the impromptu trio.
As they sang along with song after song each one showing in their own way of respecting and the praising of God. There was a bonding of three souls and an encompassing feeling of togetherness forming among the three black men.
As they pulled into the driveway the singing just stopped, nothing was said between the three. They just all smiled inwardly and all knew that they now had been joined together for a purpose.
Mr. B. entered the door first and said in his very deep voice; “Sorry we’re late Rose, it won’t happen tomorrow.”
Then turning his head he smiled and winked at the Jerld and Jimmy.

“You two get upstairs and get into something comfortable and hurry down to supper. Rose has it on the table waiting.”
As they walked up the stairs Jimmy said: “I’m sorry about what I said about Mr. B. at the hotel.”
Jerld just looked at him. “I know Jimmy,” I know you are.” The upstairs bedroom was strangely silent as they cleaned up and changed their clothes.

Chapters 13 & 14

2007-09-30T16:41:00.000-07:00

READERS

Chapter Thirteen: Chicago’s Safe, for Awhile

As they were pulling out of the parking lot, there was a sign that said US 41, 11 miles.
Jerld said, “My Mom has a second cousin that lives in Chicago, go that way” pointing west.
Jimmy of course without a word did what he was told as he turned he looked at Jerld.
“J, you didn’t call Tuney back there, who did you call?” Jimmy asked.
Jerld laughing replied; “How the shit do I know, I just a dialed a number and some kid answered, for all I know I could have been talking to Detroit. The kid kept saying I can’t talk to you, and then would holler “Mom, Mom.” Then this lady gets on and started accusing me of being some pervert who likes kids. I had a hard time keeping a straight face, while she was running off at the mouth.”
“I bet they trace that call, poor old Jake is going to have a lot of answering to do. They will never believe him when he tells them how two blacks from Gary, screwed him out of a car. Knowing him he won’t admit to nothing, he been around and knows how the game is played.”
They rode in silence with each of them thinking of what had happened over the last few days.

Jimmy really didn’t mine jail that much he had three hots and a cot and the white honkys were frighten of him.
He had been lucky to be put in a cell block filled with nothing but young kids, who were not sure of themselves around blacks. When they tried him they found out that life was not as important to him as it was to them. If Jimmy had learned one thing on the streets of Gary, it was that only those who were willing to take a life and give up theirs if necessary survived.
Since the time he and Jerld first started pushing a little arm and nose happiness, he had to make that choice many times, while protecting their corner and their drug business. In every case the other dope dealer was not ready or willing to give up his life, Jimmy was. So Jimmy would prevail, and after each of these episodes Jimmy’s reputation grew. Death to him was a predictable cost for anyone who wanted to be a success in his and Jerld’s chosen profession, drug dealing.
Jerld had not liked jail. The death of his new found friend Harris bothered him. It could have just as easy have been him. He would have just disappeared from his cell, and as far as anyone would know, he died of what ever the Sheriff or Coroner said killed him.
He could be long buried before they would even be able to notify his mother and family.

He was sure there must be a lot of jailed blacks whose real cause of death was being “Black in a White Jail.”
Jerld didn’t know what he was going to do.
He had made up his mind that one thing for certain was, he was going to do something about Harris’ death no matter how long it took him.
They drove for a little while and came to a dual-lane road. Jimmy stopped and said “Which way?”
Having never been very far outside of Gary’s city limits, Jerld wasn’t sure. He just pointed to his right and Jimmy turned. After a couple of miles a sign said, Chicago 56 miles, Jerld had no idea where his second cousin lived. He figured he would stop at the first phone booth along the highway and call his mother for directions. He didn’t want to wait till they got to Chicago he needed to know what his mother knew and didn’t want anyone to know where they were except her. She would not tell anyone if he told her not too.
They drove for a few more miles and there was a phone booth outside a building that said “Bait Shop.” They pulled up and stopped and Jerld got out and entered the phone booth. He had gotten some change at the restaurant when he paid their bill, but it was much more than a dollar.
He would only need a quarter if he called collect so he pick up the receiver and deposited a quarter and dialed “O” for operator assist.

“This is Debbie your AT&T operator, may I help you?”
Jerld answered, “I would like to place a collect call to Dorthea Mitchell at,” then paused trying to remember his home phone number.
He remembered it and blurted it out as if to make up for the time he had lost. The phone rang several times before he recognized his mother’s voice on the other end of the line.
“Sir, who should I say is calling?” Debbie the operator asked, in her most professional manner. Jerld gave her his first name and she said. “I have a collect call from a Jerld for a Dorthea Mitchell, will you accept the charges?”
“Jerld, Jerld where are you?” his mother echoed.
“Ma’am, will you accept the charges,” the operator interrupted.
“Hell yes, now get your operator ass off this phone so I can talk to my Boy.”
Jerld chuckled, his mom never let anyone get in her way, he responded with “Ma Jimmy and me are OK, but we can’t come home for awhile.”
“Did you hear anything on the streets? Has Ronnie K or the Man been around?”
There was a long pause then “It must be true what you and Jimmy did to Nads?” It was a question not a statement.

“Yea Ma, it’s true, Ronnie K sent Nads out to give us an early funeral, but we got Nads first.”
“Son I told Jimmy’s Ma that you both are good boys and if it was true you had a reason. She said that Ronnie K. and his brat kids paid her a visit. They just wanted her to let them know if you came home or called.”
“She is scared of that degenerate nigger and probably would tell on you if she was hit on a little. You don’t have to worry about me, that black bastard can kill me and I wouldn’t give him the sweat from between my legs. Stay away for a few months and see if things change, you know Ronnie K. as soon as he gets a big score he thinks he is a player and might put the word out that alls forgiven.”
“I know Ma, but I need to know if you think cousin Bailey in Chicago would hole us up for a while?” Jerld questioned.
“Sure he would, but thems good people don’t go there and be starting no trouble, you and Jimmy remember they ain’t like us.”
“They have lived with whites most of their lives and think white most of the time, but they are kin and will put you up” momma cautioned.
“I know, how do I get to there pad, and could you drop a dime on them for me.” Tell them me and Jimmy is coming to look for work and need a place to stay for a while.” Jerld said.

Jerld’s Mom just said “Stay on US 41 until you go past the big Magic Kiss Carpet sign and turn off on the next street past, it should be 38th street, go two blocks and it will be on your right, a yellow two story house with a white fence around it. It’ll be the cleanest looking house in the neighborhood.”
“I’ll call them and tell them you’re coming. Now you and Jimmy be good. I worry about my boys. Don’t tell anyone, not even your sisters, where your at, and you should be alright for a couple of weeks or so. You’re my boy and I love you and Jimmy, watch your behinds,” without even giving Jerld a chance to say good-by she hung up.
Jerld thought he heard a very quiet sob just before the phone clunked down.
It took them about an hour and a half to find the yellow house. It was located on a tree-lined street that had nothing but older two story houses and four flat apartment buildings.
Most of the houses were well kept, but it was evident that most of them needed more money sunk into them if they were to be considered a nice home.
Some needed a newer style paint job, some required extensive repair to their concrete steps and stoops.

The street and its houses may not have been top notch but they were a hell of a lot better then the projects or the central district of Gary.
They parked the car around the corner and a couple of blocks away from the yellow house and walked. If someone were looking for them or their newly obtained ride, they would have to do a lot of walking and talking to find them.
If the people here were anything like their old neighborhood, finding anybody would be difficult.
At home everyone takes care of their neighbors. “Don’t know, didn’t hear and haven’t seen anything,” would be the normal response to outsiders.
Jerld was uncomfortable coming to this house he had only seen his ma’s cousin Bailey a couple of times in his life, when they would come to visit. He and his wife Rose would also bring their three little daughters with them; Jerld always thought the girls were spoiled and uncomfortable in his momma’s house.
As they walked up the sidewalk a girl who looked about 15 or 16 yrs. old came out of the front door gliding as if she was a fashion model on a stage. Her hair gave the impression of several beautiful glistening black hands with all the fingers widely spread and gently tugging on her temples.
She had the most gorgeous bronze face he had ever seen.

Her body belonged on a billboard body lotion advertisement that said, “Softer Skin, You Will Never Feel.”
She didn’t wear clothes, she displayed them, and her body was the perfect mannequin. Her breasts, though small, were like two perfectly shaped halves of a Honeydew melon. Her two very prominent tiny nipples were teasing her white sweater and tantalizing Jerld and Jimmy.
Her waist, what little there was of it, was only there to give her a place to rest her hands as she paused to let them appreciate everything God had given her. She was barefooted and had her toenails painted a highly glossed bright red.
Jerld’s only thought when he saw her was “My God, She’s beautiful.” She stopped only for a second and then as if someone had shoved her from behind she spurted into Jerld’s arms and said:
“You must be cousin Jerld and this here must be Jimmy, my name is Olivia, but everyone calls me Liggie or just Lig.”
“That’s pronounced Lig-ja or Lig-gie, and I don’t ever want to hear you call me Olivia, its sounds to uppity. Your ma called and we been waiting for you. The fixens are on the table so let’s get inside and grab a chair before we have to stand out in the kitchen with the old folks.”

She grabbed both Jimmy’s and Jerld’s hands and tugging gently pulled them into the house. Jerld and Jimmy had not been able to get in a word, but Jerld was sure their eyes had told Liggie a lot. Jerld knew he was going to like it here, if this was the youngest daughter, the other two must be knockouts.
Inside the front door was a closet, Liggie helped them both off with their coats and then hung them in the closet. She again grabbed their hands and said: “You’ll like my Daddy he is the only man in this house and we spoil him. He likes to think he is the Boss, but momma rules this henhouse.”
They entered into a large room that seemed a little too crowded, it had several large overstuffed chairs, and several small tables, spread in a daisy pattern around the room.
Each of its petals consisted of two chairs and a table, and then there would be a space, and then another petal of a table and two chairs etc. On each table there was a well-worn Bible.
This pattern continued around the room until the circle was completed forming what resembled a large flower of about 15 or 20 feet in diameter. In the very center there was a circular rug made of row after row of indescribable color combinations. The center and several small paths to each set of chairs and table were very worn and threadbare.

Looking like the tiny veins that can be seen inside a flower’s petal. Jimmy and Jerld looked at each other with questioning glances, as if to say “Maybe we should leave,”
A very large man, looking every bit like a butler without a jacket on, entered the room; he quietly approached the two new houseguests from behind. When he had gotten within a couple of steps from his daughter and her recently met friends, he said in a booming voice.
“Jerld do you remember me, I’m your mother’s cousin Bailey.
Jerld and Jimmy were startled, and both turned in unison and there loomed this larger then life Norman Rockwell painting.
That is the only way to accurately describe him. Everything about him was perfect. The way his hair was neatly combed the cut of his thin stripe of a beard which didn’t have a hair out of place. His shoes are what stood out and shouted “Look down, look down” and your eyes automatically did.
They were at the end of two very sharply creased black, with small gold pin stripes, pant legs. Shoes as far as J & J were concerned were for walking and as Jerld always said, to kill corner spiders with. These shoes had never seen the blood of a spider or any other type of soiling. The shoes had black wingtips that were pricked full of tiny little holes. The heels were made from of same type of material so they would match the toes.

The holes were designed so they resembled several small flowers scattered haphazardly wherever they fell. They looked as if they were hanging on for their dear lives to the back of the foot, so as not to be left behind. In between the highly polished toe and heel was a saddle of ivory white.
It wasn’t the same as the saddle shoes that some of the white kids wore, this was honest to goodness ivory. They appeared as if they would shatter if they were twisted or accidentally stepped on.
The graceful walk of this “King of the House” assured everyone that no one would ever be quick enough to scuff any part of his beautiful brogans.
“That’s what everyone calls me,” Bailey continued, “Real name is Jew L. Bailey, but if you use my first name, you and I will have to take it outside.”
“Don’t asks, cause I don’t have any idea where I got the name except my mother use to clean for a Jewish couple who lived in one of the houses on the upper Westside.”
“That’s where all those rich people use to live when I was a little.” “This is my wife Rose and you met my youngest her name is Olivia, she’s got two sisters that are already at the table, Johanna in the middle and Kaylee next to her.”

They all nodded as Jerld said, “This is my friend Jimmy we’ve been together since the crib and my ma says he is just another one of her good looking sons.” Jimmy stood up taller and nodded and smiled.
“He don’t talk much but he sure does like to eat. So we better sit down and get to it before he climbs over all of you to get to them sweet potatoes.” With that Bailey motioned to the opposite side of the table from the girls. “Sit,” he said.
As Jerld’s sat down his eyes focused on the two young ladies that were directly across from him and Jimmy.
Johanna was on the plain side, she had a light shade of black hair, it wasn’t dyed it just didn’t have much color to it. She had on a light purple colored lipstick and had tried to shade it so her lips looked smaller, it worked. She had these huge brown doe eyes that were always looking down, as if studying something in her hands.
She was dressed as if she had just returned from church and had not yet had time to change into more comfortable clothes. To describe her in one word, it would be that her attire was “Drab” in a very clean way. She just sat quietly without movement.
That was until Jimmy reached for some food, seeing this, without a word, she raised a hand with the palm side down.

Stretched it across the table, stopping Jimmy’s grope in mid grab. Then holding her open palm up facing Jimmy she lowered her last three fingers and with her index finger pointing upward she waved her hand from side to side. It was not done in an offensive manner, it was just meant to tell Jimmy “It wasn’t yet time to eat.” Jimmy smiled looking around the table and then lowered his hand.
Johanna looked up and caught Jerld’s eyes and smiled. It was done in such a manner he felt a slight movement in the crotch of his pants. Jerld thought to himself “I can’t believe I’m that horny.”
Johanna was as pretty as Liggie but you could see that she was not as openly friendly to strangers as Lig, but she exuded self-confidence.
She had glossy black hair with a very small strand of dyed gray starting at the middle of her forehead and fading out of sight somewhere around the center of a round ball of hair that was perched on top of her head. Jerld thought that her hair looked strange, but as he looked it seemed to add length to her face, which was very attractive and gave her an air of height. That gave her a commanding and confident presence.
When she talked it was a sort of jabber-ish most of which was not understandable to him.
She was talking “Upper Crust White.”

This was a name given to the white people that his mother would see on TV. They were usually in very expensive cars or homes where the only blacks allowed, were servants. The blacks had to call them “Suh” and Ma’m. Jerld never liked these types, but his mother would “ohhh and ahhh” when she saw a gorgeous home or a dress that caught her eye. Jerld couldn’t understand much of what they would be saying and he didn’t give a “shit” whether he ever could.
Then there was Kaylee, a wannabe white girl in black skin. She was attractive and was a woman who could probably entice any man, black or white into bed. The way she was dressed was what would normally be seen on a college campus worn by a white college girl.
A blue outer long sleeve cardigan thrown over her shoulders, with the sleeves tied loosely around her neck, and it was covering a matching blue tit-tight cashmere sweater. Hanging from her neck was a gold chain, and hanging from this was what looked to Jerld to be a gold ring of some sort. Her skirt was a lighter shade of blue and it appeared to be just a little longer then most, black or white girls her age would usually wear.
Her feet were shoeless, but Jerld noticed she had on nylons and over them were stretched some matching light blue socks that only covered her feet up to the ankle.

As Jerld looked at her he thought, “I bet she’s never even been fucked and your “Dick” would probably freeze if you ever did get to into her hairy palace.”
When Kaylee spoke her words were spoken in short and choppy sentences and had a fat tongue sound. You could only understand every fifth or six word. Jerld was able hear “you --- Chicago --- fore--- don’t--- back--- Gary--- again. He wasn’t sure, but he thought she ended by saying she didn’t ever want to go back to Gary again. As she continued to talk it seemed as if no one was listening to a word she was saying, even though they would every so often turn to look at her and nod.
She continued; “I --- mother--- well— haven’t--- in a long time.”
Jerld just nodded thinking “She must have asked if my ma was OK, but who the hell knows what she said.”
By the time they were actually seated Jimmy’s mouth was already chewing, even though he hadn’t been dished up any food yet. Bailey said, “Let’s all bow our heads.”
This took both Jimmy and Jerld back.
They had been to church a lot when they were young, but they never sat at a table before when a prayer was said before eating.

Now they both knew why Johanna had stopped Jimmy’s earlier attempt to spear some sweet potatoes. Jerld tapped Jimmy’s leg under the table and bowed his head. Jimmy understood and mimicked Jerld’s every move.
After a very short prayer, in which Bailey thank the Lord for bringing these two fine gentlemen to visit with them for a while.
Bailey announced “Lets eat you two boys are our guests you grab first.”
His words just cleared his lips before Jimmy had the biggest sweet potato on his fork and onto his plate.
The meal consisted of a pork meatloaf, sweet potatoes, and a clear crème sauce to ladle over the yams.
There were greens of every kind and some homemade biscuits. They offered J & J a choice of milk, coffee or water to drink. Jimmy chose milk and Jerld the water, he would have liked a beer, but for some reason he had a feeling you don’t mention alcohol in this house. After church, many times, they would go to a friend’s house, and it wouldn’t be unusual to see whisky and beer flowing like mouthwash into a sink’s drain.
Again Jerld was wondering if he had made a mistake in coming here.

He wasn’t uncomfortable anymore, but he had this strange feeling that he was going to find something out, that he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
During the meal the talk mostly centered around Bailey’s childhood spent with Jerld’s mother and her family. Jerld enjoyed hearing the stories of their childhood in a small town about 20 miles south of Atlanta, Georgia. When he talked about Jerld’s mother he would call her “Dot”. It brought back a memory of many years ago when an old man drove up to their house in Gary. The man was several years older then his mother and would call his mother “Dot”. It was the only time he can remember that he had ever heard her referred to by that name. He was so young he didn’t ever inquire why she was called by that.
Hearing Bailey was the second time he had heard it used. He now understood it was a shorten version of Dorthea. He like the name and thought it fit is mother better then Dorthea. There was no doubt she was more “Dot”, short and to the point, then Dorthea, which was stodgy name. His ma was anything but stodgy. He decided he would call her “Dot” the next time they talked and see if she liked it.
Dinner took about forty-five minutes and when everyone was done Bailey said. “Now’s the time for us to close our day and clean our hearts and home.”

Standing he said, “Mr. Jerld and Mr. Jimmy would you follow me please.”
Everyone stood up and Bailey turned and started to walk towards the Daisy room, followed by Jimmy and Jerld, then behind them was Rose.
The three daughters all in single file followed them all.
Bailey took up a position in the center of the worn rug. With a wave of his outstretched arms he motion for Jimmy and Jerld to each take a seat in a petal of two chairs and a table, each sitting next to one of his daughters. Jimmy was paired with Kaylee, Jerld with Liggie and Johanna and her mother Rose formed the third petal to continue the Daisy pattern. This left three unoccupied petals each with two chairs and a table.
With out a word each of Bailey’s daughters picked up the Bible that lay in the center of the three tables. Jimmy was looking at Jerld with eyes the size of double yoked eggs and had a smile of fear on his face. To Jerld this indicated there was no doubt that Jimmy was going to get up and run any minute.
Jerld was totally consumed by the calmness of this family they seemed as if they were going to float out of their chairs skyward and he would too.
The silence was broken as Bailey said in his deepest voice “St. John Chapter 2 verse 14.

All hell broke loose Kaylee let out a scream and frantically started thumbing through the Bible in her hands. Johanna, the stuffy one, jumped up and shrieked in a high-pitched excited voice;
“And found him in a temple” then as she continued to read as good natured sounds of groans and laughter came from the rest of the family members.
Johanna turned and handed her bible to her mother then ran up and gave her father a big kiss. He then got up from the center chair and walked the worn path to the petal where Johanna had been sitting and he sat down.
Kaylee and Liggie in unison turned and handed Jimmy and Jerld their Bibles. Jimmy was petrified and Jerld wasn’t much better. He now had two answers as to why the room was set up the way it was and why the worn paths were in the carpet.
It also explained why he hadn’t seen a TV set in the house. This was their night’s entertainment; this was a religious man’s version of the game “spin the bottle.”
Joanna standing as straight as a light pole, with a beaming face that looked as it was surrounded by light, spoke softly.
“Romans Chapter 15 verse 13,” again the flurry of action erupted and

Jerld could see out of the corner of his eye Jimmy was smiling and vainly trying to find the verse.
Jerld’s Bible fell open and there it was to his surprise his voice had hollered and he had started to read.
“Now the God of hope filled” as he continued the remainder of the verse he and Jimmy were both shocked and the family cheered and bounced in their chairs.
Everyone was shouting “Mr. Jerld and Johanna” they repeated this several times before Jerld realized he was suppose to get up and kiss Johanna. Jerld looked at Bailey who was smiling and nodding a clear “Yes.”
Jerld, who had unknowingly jumped up when he started to read, took three steps and was face to face with a seductive smiling Johanna. He leaned foreword to kiss her cheek and was grabbed by her two outstretched arms and was tightly hugged. Her breast pressing firmly against his chest and as they kissed he felt the slight rub of her groin against his. Jerld was uncomfortable but as he looked around every eye was on them and they were all smiling. Jerld then took his turn in the center of the Daisy and the Bibles much to Jimmy’s liking were passed back to the daughters. Johanna was then sent to one of the vacant chairs and didn’t pick up a Bible. She had her turn, now it was someone else.

Jerld didn’t have a Bible and he had to come up with a verse for them to find. He had remembered some of the books of the Bible from when he had attended summer Bible school.
He blurted out “Isaiah Chapter 45 verse 15. It was no more out of his mouth when Kaylee screeched and jumped up, “Verily thou art a God,” she was running up the threadbare path before she had even finished. She grabbed Jerld and planted a wet tongue fishing kiss before he could even brace himself. Losing his balance he tumbled backward taking Kaylee down with him.
They landed on the flooring in a pile with her lying on top of him still with lips locked. Rose, Bailey, Jimmy and everyone else were bent over laughing. Bailey stood saying, “It’s time for bed.”
The family turned and kneeled in front of their chairs with their hands folded, Jimmy and Jerld with them. Jerld felt strange warmth come over him.
Jimmy and he shared a bedroom that had two small beds. Jerld had never slept so soundly as he did his first night at Cousin Bailey’s house.
It was a sleep of a peaceful man. Jerld not knowing why looked up to the ceiling and “Said thanks,” then rolled over and went to sleep, to the sounds of Jimmy’s snoring.

Chapter Fourteen: Chicago Changes
“Time to get up Boys” Rose’s voice echoed up the stairway, “You got to get some food in them bellies before you go to work.”
Jimmy rolled over on his side and said, “Who said I was going to work, I didn’t. Look at that clock its only seven? I sure in the hell ain’t getting up at no seven in the morning.”
Jerld grinned, “You’ll do what ever Bailey, Rose or the girls tell you to do. We need a place to stay and this is their house. Now get your big ass out of that bed before I throw you out.”
“Throw me out, you don’t think I’d let you get my ass up, if I don’t want you to.” Jimmy teased.
Jerld made a fast motion as if he was getting out of bed, Jimmy bounded out from under the covers and was half way to the bathroom before Jerld’s feet hit the floor.
Just then Bailey appeared in the doorway in his hands he had two white long sleeve shirts and a shaving kit. He was already dressed as if he was going to a funeral. He handed each a starched collared white shirt, black vest and pants and an ivory tie to match his shoes.
“Here, you boys will need these. We will be leaving at 7:45 sharp, if we don’t I’ll be late and I am never late.”

With that he turned and left the room.
Jerld wondered what they were going to do today that they needed the white shirts for. Maybe Bailey had some job interviews set up for them. If he did he wasn’t sure Jimmy or him either one, would go through with them. He had never had to apply for a job before. People like old man Wallace just gave him a job, he didn’t have to apply or interview for it.
Getting working with Ronnie K. was not complicated. He just handed you the dope and said “twenty-five percent is yours. If you need a brother to help, that comes out of your share.” If you steal from me your job and your life is over.” So he and Jimmy just went into the dope business and split the twenty-five percent, later their share was raised to forty percent, because they were good at it.
It took Jimmy and him about fifteen minutes to shower, shave and get dressed. Jimmy was a little reluctant to shave or wear the white shirt. Jerld said to put it on and that was that, after all if one J had to wear it, then they both would, because “J & J did everything together.”
When they got down to the breakfast table everyone except Johanna was already sitting down.
The table was heaped high with pancakes and sausages. In the center there was a platter of at least two-dozen buttery golden fried eggs.

There was coffee, milk and a huge pitcher of orange juice.
Jimmy was drooling and you could see his fork aiming for the pancakes, when he again heard the words.
“Let’s all bow our heads for a moment of prayer.”
No one said anything until Bailey said, “Amen” and around the table it went and when it got to Jerld he spoke in a very clear voice “Amen.” Then it was as if a starter’s gun had gone off, in the couple of seconds it took to say it, he felt a rush of peace, serenity and comfort all wrapped into one sensation. Jimmy mumbled something that sounded like “amin” then dropped his fork to the floor and quickly bent over to look for it or hide; Jerld wasn’t sure which it was.
At exactly 7:40 Bailey stood up and said, “Were leaving, boys get your coats and I’ll be waiting in the car, you have five minutes.”
Jimmy was wolfing down another pancake, he grabbed it, rolled it up like a cigar, and dipped it in his plate, which resembled a small lake of syrup, and egg yoke mixed.
As they were walking to the front door Jimmy said; “J, I don’t know why but it makes me feel good when he calls us boys, its different, it’s as if he thinks were his kids.”

“Yeah, I know, Bailey treats you like he was your Dad or something, our moms did OK, but this is different.” Jerld said. It’s as if he knows what we should be doing and he going to see that we do it.”
Jerld didn’t know if he had said it right, but that’s how he was feeling.
Bailey was sitting out in front of the house in an old Buick that must have been ten years old, but it looked as if it had just been driven out of the factory. It was black and it had those real wide whitewall tires and had an honest to goodness woman with wings as a hood ornament. Bailey nodded for them to get in the back as he said; “Good job, its 7:45 and we will get to work at 8:00 o’clock.”
The radio was turned on and the station was playing a Negro gospel song. Jimmy glanced at Jerld and said loud enough for Bailey to hear. “I wonder if he has ever heard any of the new singers, like James Brown, he’s great.” With out a turn of his head or any voice inflection at all Bailey said.
“Your black and you should be proud of all black music.” emphasizing the word “all”.
As they rode Jimmy was busy looking at the tall buildings and Jerld was deep in thought. He wondered what was Bailey’s job and what did he have planned for Jimmy and him.

Suddenly Bailey turned on his turn signal and turned into a long curved driveway that lead up to a very large building. The building had large pillars all around the drive and the entrance. There were men wearing red short jackets, with black pants and white shirts walking or running all around the entrance. They had one thing in common they all were black.
As Bailey drove up, it looked as if every one of the black men, along with one white man who was dressed in some type of fancy uniform, were all fighting to see who could open Bailey’s car door. The back seat didn’t even have a door as far as they were concerned. When the car came to a complete stop an elderly black man wearing a short red jacket opened the door and said: “Good Morning to you Mister Bailey.”
Bailey smiled and returned a “George, how is the wife Gladys, is her gout getting better?”
“Sure is Mr. Bailey, thanks for asking and Gladys says thanks for the bottle of liniment you sent home.”
Jimmy and Jerld followed Bailey as they walked everyone who passed them had a cheerful “Good Morning Mr. Bailey” that was happily offered.
To each one Bailey returned a “Good Morning” using their first names. He then would ask about their wives, mothers, or their children, all of who’s names he knew.

The white man in the strange looking uniform open the door the two very large front doors for Bailey and said “Your paper is here J.B.”
“Thank you Clarence, these are my new house guests and they will be working here on the third floor. Will you see to it that they are taken care of after we get the paperwork done?” Bailey politely asked.
“Yes Sir, J.B. considered it done.” Clarence’s response showed a deep feeling of pride that is usually developed through a long standing friendship.
Jerld was baffled he couldn’t figure out what it was that Bailey did here to have so many people fighting for his attention. They marched as if in a parade, single file through a very large room, filled with very expensive looking furniture. A few older white people, both men and women, sat in chairs strategically placed so they would have a good view of any newly arrived guests.
When Bailey walked buy all without an exception would nod and say “Mr. Bailey or Good Morning J.B.” They also seemed like they were just waiting for him, so they would have the chance to greet him. Jerld had to admit it he was impressed.
At the rear of this room stood the largest bar Jerld had every seen. It reminded Jerld of the highly polished bar where Jimmy’s mom worked, worked and turned tricks that is.

This bar was twice as long and had people in suits and dresses sitting on every stool. There were no beer signs or whisky bottles in sight. Behind the bar there weren’t any mirrors just a gold lettered sign on a very expensive paneled wall that read, “DEVONSHIRE HOTEL.”
As Bailey approached a white man standing behind the bar said,
“Good Morning J. B., I’ve put your paper in your office,” nodding to the end of the bar.
“Donald you have been ill, I hear, I’ve brought you some hot lemon juice. It will help your throat.”
He reached into his coat pocket and produced a small flat thermos and handed it to the man he called Donald, and Jerld saw him wink and the man smiled.
“Thank you Mr. Bailey this is very kind of you,” he offered.
Bailey motioned for the boys to follow and turned and walked towards the end of the long bar. They walked down to the far end and turned into a small doorway. On the wall beside the door was a bronze metal sign with raised letters it read “Bell Captain” and below was the name “J. L. Bailey.”
Jerld wasn’t sure of what a bell captain was, but it must have been a very important job the way everyone went out of his or her way to greet Bailey. “What does Bailey have in mind for him and Jimmy,” Jerld thought.

In the small office was a desk with a black upholstered chair behind it and in front of the desk sat two straight back chairs both placed as if a ruler was used to measure them, so that they were each the same exact distance from the desk.
On the wall was a plaque with a small-engraved picture of the hotel’s entrance and standing in that entrance was Bailey and an older white man, both in suits, shaking hands.
Below the picture were engraved letters that said, “Mr. J. L. Bailey is honored for his forty years of dedicated service to the patrons of the Devonshire Hotel.”
It was signed “Your Friend James W. Will, President and Founder.”
The plaque was polished to such a gloss everyone who entered the room had to take notice of it.
Bailey walked around the desk and sat in the upholstered chair and motion for the boys to take a seat in the other two chairs.
“You gentlemen,” Bailey nodding his head “Have an opportunity before you that many men would give anything to have.”
“You are being given a chance to work in a career that can bring great pride and satisfaction to you, if work hard enough to earn it. That career is public service.

As we walked in today you saw how I have been able to gain many friends and the respect of all those I serve. I have done this by always, he paused, then repeated and I mean always, treating everyone with respect and going out of my way to see that I do everything within my power and abilities to see that the needs of those I serve are met in a professional and courteous manner.”
“The plaque you see on the wall behind me is from a man who is a millionaire several time over and he is my friend and I do mean friend. I have been invited to his house many times for dinner and have had the opportunity to socialize with many of his wealthy friends. He and his friends have always treated me with respect and as an equal.”
Bailey continued: “He is the owner of this hotel and two others just as nice. We started out together in this business.”
“He borrowed the money to buy this hotel and at that time it was in need of a lot repair and he didn’t have the money. I was the first employee he hired, I was to be this hotel’s “Bell Captain.” Mr. Will, even though he owned this place, worked as the “Desk Clerk” the job that young Donald has now.”
“We did everything from carrying bags to sweeping the floors and we even fixed the plumbing when it went bad.

Together we put in many long days we were losing money and at times couldn’t even make the loan payments. We had no money for our salaries and both of our wives had to work cleaning houses on the Westside to put food on our tables. Jenny, his wife and Rose would work all day at other jobs to feed our families. Then each evening they would come to the hotel to clean and change the bed linen at night.”
“We thought we were going to lose it all, until that big beautiful airport just north of here was built. The Devonshire was the closest hotel to it, so we began getting more and more business. The O’Hare airport saved this hotel and made Mr. Will very wealthy.”
“He offered me any job that I wanted and said I could set my own salary. I have declined the opportunity for advancement to other positions and jobs over the years, here and at other hotels. Now that this hotel is very profitable Mr. Will has offered me large increases in my salary many times, I have only accepted minimal amounts. I have chosen to keep my salary at a point where Rose, the girls and I can live comfortably, but not be spoiled by money that we didn’t need.
I do have stock in Mr. Will’s company and I am told its worth a lot of money now and it probably is.”

“I have no idea of what it is worth today, it is all deposited into a trust fund for my daughters. I have never asked nor do I want to know how much is in that trust.”
“Jerld, you and Jimmy probably don’t understand why I continue at this job. If you keep an open mind and try to do your best at whatever you do, you will some day know why I chose to stay where I am, doing what I do best. That is serving the public and spreading the word of God.”
With that Bailey stood up motioning Jerld and Jimmy toward the door saying, “You boys go see Clarence, he’ll take care of you. Remember what I said it’s all about service and pride.”
As they walked back out into the large room Jimmy said; “I didn’t say I wanted a job and I ain’t carrying no bags for anybody.”
Jerld smiled and said, “We’ll give it a few days and see what happens, I don’t want to hurt Bailey’s feelings, he’s a good man.”
“Did you see how all those old white people were falling all over themselves to talk to Bailey? He sure as hell isn’t their nigger, he has them in his back pocket and he knows it, but he don’t act like it.
He acts as if he is still trying to please them even though there is no reason to. Ya gotta give old Mr. B credit he sure has style.”
Clarence was still standing by the door giving orders to the bellboys.

He also would open the car doors and the lobby door for whoever drove up. Jerld had to admit Clarence look good for a man as old as he was.
Jerld figured he had to be at least fifty to sixty years old. His hair was snow white at least what little of it you could see sticking out from under his bus driver hat. To Jerld that was what it reminded him of, except for the gold braids on the bill. He had on a long gray coat that came down to his ankles. Below that there were two gray cuffs from his trousers protruding down to his shoes.
His shoes were as brightly shined as Mr. B’s except they were solid black.
The more Jerld studied Clarence the more he thought he would look just as good in those cloths as Clarence, even though he was black and Clarence was white.
Clarence walked up to them and said, “I am eighty-two years old, before you ask, and have been a friend of “J.B” for forty years.
In fact if I was to say who my best friend is it would be Mr. Bailey, so you boys better treat him right or I’ll personally stomp your asses.”
Then with an outstretched hand and a smile, he said, “I proud to know any one who is an acquaintance of J.B., call me Clarence.”

They shook hands as Clarence called to a young black man standing by the curb.
“Jacob, it’s your turn, take care of our friends for me, I got some new blood here I have to show around.”
He threw an arm around each of the boy’s shoulders and down the walk he guided them. It was more of a fast drag then a stroll, as Jimmy and Jerld were to find out later, Clarence did everything fast including driving.
They walked to the end of the hotel’s front sidewalk and then turned behind the building.
There was a stairway leading down to the basement and at the bottom was a black steel door with a gold lettered sign mounted on the stone wall next to it saying “Employees Only”. Jimmy hadn’t said much for the last few minutes until he saw the sign then blurted out;
“Is that just a nigger door, I ain’t going in.” Clarence looked back at Jimmy, as he pulled away and said; “I don’t blame you, I wouldn’t either, but this is the entrance to my house and only those people that I trust, I let in.”
There have been hundreds of blacks and whites in this house of mine, but there never has been any niggers. Or white trash in this house, only friends.”

With that Clarence held open the door and in a sweeping bow saying: “My house is your house,” this was done in highly exaggerated motion. That got Jimmy to laughing and he said:
“Clarence aren’t you the one.” and patting Clarence on the head he jumped past Clarence.
Acting like he was afraid he was going to be swatted on his ass. Jerld was right behind him but wasn’t fast enough, Clarence’s hat smacked him squarely on his butt, and his good natured yelp must have been heard by all the gray hairs in the lobby above.
There was a very small living room just inside the door. Then a bathroom and a bedroom could be seen from the door as you entered.
A large double door stood directly across from the front entryway. This door also had a hand-lettered sign. It read “All Uniforms must be signed out and issued by Clarence,” signed Clarence.
Clarence told Jimmy and Jerld to have a seat.
Jerld looked around and there were only three chairs in view, one sitting in front of the small screen TV, one along side of that and then single chair pulled up to a very small kitchen table. Jerld chose the one by the table; Jimmy sat in the larger upholstered chair in front of the TV. Jerld knew that Jimmy had made a big mistake.

Clarence strode over and stood directly in front of Jimmy, blocking his view of the TV. Clarence bent over almost nose-to-nose with Jimmy and said, “I may be in my eighties, but you’re in my chair and no one sits in that chair besides me, move it or I will.”
Jerld saw the look on Jimmy’s face that he had seen many times before. It was a look of a man who had just been challenged to a fight to the death. Jimmy’s eyes let everyone know he was ready to take the challenge.
Jerld could see Jimmy’s hands tightly gripping the chair arms and he could see his legs tense up and start to quiver ever so slightly, he was a spring about to uncoil.
“Jimmy give Clarence his chair” Jerld said sharply, “Or he might have to whip your butt.”
Then he laughed and Jimmy smiled and in that moment they understood each other.
Jimmy’s smile and his eyes were each saying something completely different.
His smile said “What ever you say Jerld” his eyes were saying “He better leave me alone, Jerld.” Clarence stepped back and helped Jimmy out of the chair, Jimmy could feel the grip of a man who had handled many heavy suitcases over the years, and Clarence felt the strength of youth.

Both knew at that moment they had made an unspoken pact that was sealed by their grips. Clarence and Jimmy would only be friends as long as Jerld forced them to be.
Jimmy had a sense of strange togetherness as he and Clarence had gripped each other’s hand. It was as if Clarence’s and his life would be forever mingled together because of this short test of wills, and the challenge was really for Jerld’s friendship not the chair.
The tension was broken when Clarence walked briskly over to the double doors and said, “You both will be working on the third floor so you will need the green jackets.”
The closet was bigger then Clarence’s entire apartment; it had racks and racks of about every style and color of uniforms. There were white maids and kitchen uniforms; there were red, green, blue and tan suite type jackets. There were only a very few of the uniforms like Clarence wore and they were all hung together in one small area of the closet.
Clarence walked over to the rack with green suit type jackets and said, “Jerld your a 40 and Jimmy you look like a 46.” he grabbed two jackets off the rack and also a couple of vests the same color that had ties attached to them. He handed one to each of them and said, “The vest goes on first and there is a belt buckle in the back to adjust it.”

Jerld slid the vest over his head and put the Jacket on, it fit perfect, but he still had on his faded yellow pants. Clarence looked at him and shook his head, “Those won’t do, I have some that will fit you but I’m not sure about him” he said pointing at Jimmy.
Jimmy was struggling to get the vest on and you could see the agitation on his face. He sneered, “I don’t give a fuck if you have any pants for me or not old man.”
Clarence walked over and tugged the vest down and tied it for Jimmy and then helped him on with his coat, which fit him perfectly. Clarence knew it would, he had been fitting new help for over forty years and always-guessed right. He went to a rack of pants and pulled down two pair and handed them to Jimmy and said, “Try these on, one of them should fit.”
The second pair Jimmy was able to button around the waist and except for a half an inch or so, the length was acceptable.
He then took down a new pair still wrapped in plastic and handed them to Jerld. They looked as if they were tailor made for Jerld and he looked as if he had just stepped out of a page in a catalog.
Clarence turned and looked at both of them and said, “You look like you’re brothers, no wonder white people think you blacks all look alike.”

Jimmy standing as tall and as straight as he could smiled and said, “Where are them bags, let’s get to work.”
Clarence motioned them to follow him and proceeded to walk out the apartment door.
With Jerld and Jimmy following he headed into the lobby and straight to the elevator.
When they had all entered Clarence punched the button marked 3 for the third floor. The elevator rose slowly like older elevators do. Glang, glang clang the cables struck the pulleys as it rose to the second and then the third floor.
Jerld noticed that Jimmy’s leg as it again started to quiver.
Jerld’s stomach felt like it was going to exit through his beautiful white teeth and onto his recently acquired new attire.
The elevator stopped and it seemed like an eternity until the doors opened. A hallway that appeared to be miles long greeted them. Large ornate white doors stood at attention on each side of the hallway.
Each standing closed with their brass door handles and locks looking as if they were there to be inspected.
The walls were painted light green and the floors were covered in a pasture of darker green carpet.

Next to each door was mounted a number plate and below that a lettered white card with what appeared to be names written on them. Standing guard at each door was a very skinny four-legged table; each having a vase of flowers perched in the center.
Clarence said, “Boys, Welcome to widows row.”

This Jail is Black- Chapters 11 & 12

2007-09-23T11:58:00.000-07:00

READERS

Chapter Eleven: Death Has Many Names

Jerald had been asleep for five or six hours when he heard:
“Mitchell its time to go to court,” a voice hollers.
It was again daylight outside and the sun is creeping in through the windows.
“Mitchell you better get your ass in gear or you’re gonna miss your arraignment.” the male voice repeats.
Jerld just sits and dangles his feet over the edge of the bunk,
Just then a male jailer, Jerld had never seen before, sticks his head up to the cell bars and says:
“Mitchell you better get a move on, your due in court in ten minutes.”
It then strikes home “Mitchell, that’s me” Jerld jumps down and slides his feet into the shower shoes that he had been given to wear.
The guard has Jerld stick his hands through a small opening in the bars and he handcuffs both of Jerld’s wrists.
He then opens the cell door and said “Come on, we got to get the leg irons on you before we go across the Street.”
Jerld follows not saying a word. He is taken to the holding cell again where he had been placed when he was first brought in two nights before.

The cell door stood open and the jailer grabbed a set of bigger size cuffs off a rack next to the door that must have had fifty more sets hanging on it.
“Put your legs together, so I can get these shackles on you.” he was told.
After the shackles were secured around his ankles, the handcuffs were hooked with a chain to the shackles. He was then placed into the holding cell.
“Get your hands off of me you “Dickhead,” it was Jimmy, Jerld chuckled to himself.
Around the corner came Jimmy wearing the handcuffs and two jailers hanging on to both of his arms. Jimmy saw Jerld smiled and just stood looking at him all the while he was being shackled and chained.
The cell door was opened and they started to shove Jimmy inside with Jerld. They didn’t have to shove Jimmy was almost knocking them over to get in with Jerld. They were together again for the first time since they had been caught.
As they closed the cell door the male guard said: “No talking or we will separate you two, and you will go to court separately.”
Jimmy was quiet now, he and Jerld were together, the two Js did everything together.

After a few minutes two guards walked up to the holding cell door, one was the guard who had woke Jerld up earlier and the other was an older man wearing a white shirt with several badges and insignias on it. He also was wearing a gun, which none of the other guards wore.
He walked up to the cell; “I’m the Jail Commander and it is my responsibility to advise you of you charges,” he said in a manner that was as if he had done this a thousand of times before.
He began: “Mr. Jerld D. Mitchell you have been charged in Superior Court of Jasper County with, Count one, Fleeing a police officer, Count two, Resisting arrest and Count three, Possession of a hand gun without a permit.”
“Mr. Jimmy Tyler,” he continued “You have been charged in Superior Court of Jasper County with, Count one, fleeing a police office and Count two, Resisting arrest.
“You are both being taken to court for arraignment on theses charges. If you haven’t an attorney one will be appointed for you.”
“If you don’t know what an arraignment is, it is where the Judge reads your charges to you and asked how you want to plea, guilty or not guilty.”
“Then based on how you plea the Judge will either set a bond for you, or you could be given a fine or jail time.

Do you understand these proceedings?” white shirt asked.
Jerld and Jimmy didn’t understand a word he said, except they knew what a bond was. To them it meant that they could get out of jail, which was all that mattered. Jerld couldn’t believe what he had just heard.
Not a word was said about Tuney’s car, if it was hers, or how they got it, or nothing about “Nads.”
With a loud bang and a clang a door leading out to the attached garage opened.
“Follow me”, the white shirted old man said. He walked out the door, followed by Jerld and Jimmy who were followed by the two unknown jail guards.
As they walked through the garage Jerld could still see the faint outline of the two Js that had been formed with Jimmy’s blood just a couple of days before.
Nodding his head toward the bloody art Jerld smiled and said to Jimmy. “Jimmy I always said we would be famous.”
The best Jerld could figure, today was Monday and they had been held over the weekend until the court open up.
It was hard to walk with the leg and arm shackles on.

You had to take very short steps or the leg irons would feel like giant crab pinchers grabbing an ankle with each step. Jimmy was having a hard time walking, he had huge legs and ankles, and Jerld could see that the shackles were cutting into his ankles with every leg movement.
Even with all this pain Jimmy would turn his head slightly and mouth the letters J & J and would grin from ear to ear.
They were escorted to an elevator and the guard punched the button for the third floor.
Jerld thought to himself “I’m glad we didn’t have to climb the stairs.”
The elevator stopped and the door opened on a long corridor that was lined with highly polished wood book shelves. They led to two huge doors, which had SUPERIOR COURT painted on them.
One guard stayed outside with Jerld and Jimmy and the other guard and the white shirt entered through the humongous doors. Jerld had to admit that he was uncomfortable; he had never seen any place like this before.
This is what he imagined a castle would be like in the storybook his momma use to read to him when he was little.
Everywhere he looked he saw gold colored fixtures and marble walls.
“Boy,” he thought his mother would enjoy seeing this place.”

Then he realized none of his relatives had probably ever been out of Gary. Their concept of beauty was a lot different then the people who had built this glittering monster.
He and Jimmy were told to sit on a long wooden bench that had carvings like monster heads on each back post. Jerld had seen these before; they were on each side of a door in an old vacant building in Gary, called the civic center. Until it was abandoned and became another one of Gary’s eye sores, it was a great place to play basketball.
The first guard returned and said: “The Judge is ready for them.”
They were then escorted through the huge doors and taken to a table that sat before a huge wooden platform. This platform was surrounded by a very elaborately carved wood railing that looked like a fence to keep people away and it served its purpose.
There were people running around the room in suits and dresses and they acted as if the wooden rail was electrified, they seemed afraid to touch it or pass through it. On this platform was the largest desk Jerld had ever seen and behind it was a curved arch that must have been twenty feet tall.
The arched was so pretty Jerld couldn’t take his eyes off of it.
He studied each carving and gouge and was awed by the workmanship.
All of a sudden it was as if the world was going to come to an end.

The suited men began running around gathering papers and whispering to each other. A couple of women had entered and took their seats at the foot of the alter-like desk. Jerld didn’t know how else to describe it. The only thing different from where he and his mom went to church was here everyone wasn’t kneeling.
Then it happened, a well-polished wood door to the right of the alter- desk opened, and someone hollered.
“All rise, Hear ye, Hear ye the Superior Court of Jasper County is now in session, presiding is the Honorable Judge.”
Jerld wasn’t able to hear the last name, but it sounded like the name of a hamburger, Mac something or another.
Then one of the funniest looking men Jerld had ever seen came waltzing in the room wearing a black dress. His facial features weren’t what were funny; in fact he appeared to be slightly smiling as he entered the room. What was comical to Jerld was the way he looked in the oversize black dress. He was on the short side and appeared to have a very squat build.It was hard to tell under the dress that totally covered him from head to foot. He had a head of gray hair that stuck out in all directions and appeared to be in need of another Jeri-Curl job. He didn’t walk he paraded to the alter-desk.

As he climbed onto the platform and sat down behind the alter-desk. Jerld thought to himself; “That white honky doesn’t look like he would last ten minutes in Gary.”
The Judge started to read some papers out loud to everyone in the room and every so often he would stop and asked Jimmy and Jerld if they understood.
The first time Jerld just nodded his head and the guy in the black dress became agitated and said: “Mr. Mitchell this is a court of record so everything that goes on in here must be tape-recorded.
I don’t know about your recorder, but ours doesn’t hear a head nod so you have to answer verbally. Do you understand?”
Jerld nodded and then smiled and said; “Yes, you’re Highness.”
The little man in the black dress sat up to his full height and said: “It’s yes, your Honor” Jerld just smiled.
Jerld was still just looking around at all of the gold lights, fans and the marble walls.
There were even painted pictures on the ceilings of naked people, which somehow seemed funny to Jerld.
Most of Jimmy’s attention was focused between the nudes and Jerld’s face.

It seemed to Jerld that Jimmy was having the time of his life and had no idea of what was going on in this palace of supposed justice.
After several minutes and numerous “Yes, your Honors,” by both Jimmy and Jerld they heard the magic words.
The man all covered in black said; “Mr. Mitchell on count one your bond is set at $5,000, on count two it is another $5 000 and for count three it is also $5,000. For a total of $15,000 bond needed to be posted to assure your appearance in court.”
“Mr. Tyler, your bond is $5,000 for count one and also $5,000 for count two, for a total of $ 10,000.
Jerld was stunned, how was he ever going to come up with $25,000 to get Jimmy and him out of jail.
There were some more garbled words spoken about having an attorney, and appointing one for them.
Jerld just responded with several yeses and then he heard the little gray haired man say;
“Take them back to jail, the court now stands adjourned.” Then he took what looked like a small sledgehammer and hit the alter-desk with such force it caused everyone in the room to jump up and stare at him.

The short squat man with his black dress swirling, got up and paraded out of the room.
After he had left the room, it suddenly turned into what reminded Jerld of a very busy corner in Gary. People were shaking hands, laughing and talking to everyone and anyone. If any one seemed even the slightest bit interested in Jerld or Jimmy you couldn’t tell. They both just continued to sit at the table looking at the naked women painted on the ceiling and wondering what had just taken place.
The two jail guards that had followed them over and the old white shirted guy were busy talking to the female who had sat to Jerld and Jimmy’s left at a table similar to the one they were sitting at. She must have been important, she had talked almost none stop to the man who sat at the alter-desk, and every so often she stood up and pointed at Jimmy and him.
It seemed to Jerld that no one, including the man in the black dress, was paying any attention to what she was saying. I fact the two women that had sat at the foot of the alter-desk had seemed to be bored throughout the women’s talk.
Finally the guy with all the gold buttons and trinkets hanging on the front of his white shirt came over to where Jimmy and Jerld were sitting.

He turned to the two guards and said:“Take them back to the jail I have to see the judge’s secretary for a minute.” Then he turned and left by the same door that the black dress had swirled through.”
Struggling to walk back to the jail seemed now harder then ever, Jerld had a great weight on his shoulder that felt like it weighed 25,000 pounds. Where were he and Jimmy going to come up with that much money? They were put back into the holding cell and for the first time had a chance to talk.
“Jerld when are we getting out of here,” Jimmy asked.
For the first time he could ever remember Jerld thought to himself.
“I wish Jimmy wasn’t here, I might be able to come up with some money, but not enough to get both of us out.”
“Jimmy we ain’t gonna get out of this rat hole for a while” his voice was curt and told of his subdued anger, and Jimmy heard it.
“J, what have I done, did I say something wrong, if I did tell me.
I don’t like to see you this way. You’re my man, and we’ll work this out together, right.”
They were both sitting on the hard steel bench, Jimmy was sort of bent at the waist as he spoke and turning to the side he looked up into Jerld’s eyes and smiled.

Jerld butted Jimmy’s head playfully and said: “We always do don’t we? We have to get out of here Jimmy, I still haven’t found out what you did to that old whore Robin that made her so damn satisfied.”
Jimmy turned and whispered in Jerld’s ear, “She said my “dick” was the biggest she had ever seen in all her years as a Bed-Lady and just couldn’t believe a 12 year old could use it like I did.”
“I was my fishing pole and she was after my bait. She just kept screaming, Take it out, take it out.”
Jerld grinned and bumped his shoulder against Jimmy and said; “Who you shitting man, I was outside the door and the only noise I heard was you gasping ou ou ou as if you had just dropped your Yo-Yo.”
Just then Julie the jailer walked up and said: “Well good morning Mr. Mitchell and to you to Mr. Tyler, I got some bad news for you, you missed breakfast, and lunch is going to be a little late today. The damn stove is broke down again. I’ll at least put you back in the little cells that you love so much.”
With that she opened the holding cell door and said “Come on” and started to walk back towards the cellblocks. Jerld and Jimmy were no longer handcuffed or shackled as they followed Julie the jailer.
The thought crossed Jerld’s mind “I have to remember this, if I don’t get any bond money, maybe we can escape.”

Just then Julie hollered over her shoulder, “Don’t even think it I’m the badest women you would ever tangle with. I was raised with three brothers and I can still kick their asses. We’re home boys.”
She unlocked the cellblock to the left and let Jimmy enter, and then she did the same with the cellblock on the right and opened the door for Jerld.
As he walked past her she said: “It ain’t so bad, I’ll get you and Jimmy together if you have to stay for a while.”
Jerld headed straight for his cell to see how it was left. As Jerld looked around the cellblock, he just shook his head, it was spotless.
There was a strong bleach smell, and it looked like it hadn’t been used at all, let alone having been shared by two people. He spotted a used flashbulb that had rolled behind the toilette stool, but other then that, and the two blankets on the bunks, there was nothing.
Jerld sat down on his bunk and pulled up his legs into his usual sleeping position and tried to figure out what possibly could have happened to Harris. Did he die or didn’t he? If he was dead why?
Had he been sent him to the hospital? Maybe after being beaten so badly he had finally got his transfer out of this honky white jail. If any of this had happened it was strange it had taken place so quickly.

He was sorry that Harris was gone, he like him and thought they would have become very tight. Well at least Harris was out of here and didn’t have to worry about those skinheads any more. That is if he was still alive.
It was strange being in the cell alone. He wondered why no one had bothered him or tried to bust his chops a little, since he was now the only black in the cellblock.
The jail inmates might have heard of what Jimmy had done to those other Cons in the other cell block, and were afraid he would be transferred into this cellblock and hang with Jerld.
Everyone even the skinheads seemed to be making a special effort to leave him alone. They acted as if they knew something he didn’t, and were afraid to be the first one to tell him.
Jerld jumped up on the top bunk and pulled the hillbilly fork out from beneath the light rim.
He pried on the vent a couple of times and it popped out. He reached across the vent pipe and knocked three times, waited and knocked twice more.
He could hear the scraping as the other vent was pried out and then the old white Con stuck his face in front of the pipe.

Where’s Harris, he said; I heard a lot of noise over there about an hour ago and then they locked all the cellblocks down.”
“I just got back from court and Harris is no where to be found, he was gone and there was no sign that he had ever been here. All I found was a used flashbulb.” Jerld answered.
“You be careful “Boy”, if there taking pictures then troubles is a-coming and you being the only black face you’re an easy target. Remember this Jail is White. When he said it, it sounded different then when Harris had said it.
Jerld didn’t like being called “Boy” by anyone, but for some reason it didn’t bother him to have this old white Con do it.
“I need to talk to Jimmy, thanks for the warning you old fart.” Jerld said with a wink. The old man slowly lowered himself backward onto the top bunk; it was as if he was laying back into his Graves. Jerld could then see him roll off of the top bunk, not being able to use his arms for any leverage at all.
Shortly Jimmy’s smiling face popped into view he was eating a candy bar and offered one to Jerld.
“Here, I get-um for not beating up on the kids in here I calls it jail house insurance.”

JERLD could see that Jimmy was not at all intimated by this jail, even if most of the faces were white and their necks were red.
“Jimmy we have to figure out how we can come up with some money. Do you think that your ma would help?” Jerld asked.
Jimmy’s face screwed up and it began to turn darker, “None of my mothers money is going to be used for anything, but what she wants.
“If she has any it wouldn’t do us any good to ask her for it. I don’t think she would give me a squeeze from her bar rag if I was dying from thirst. I don’t want nothing from her until I can be sure I can be good for it.”
“How much did we have in our pockets from our business last week?
There also is that bread “Tuney” threw down when she busted her ass out of there. Maybe we have a couple of thousand, but that isn’t enough, we need to get more”
“Jimmy, think about it.” I’ll see what I can figure out and let you know tomorrow.” Talking to Jimmy was Jerld’s way of thinking out loud.
He didn’t expect a solution from Jimmy, but it didn’t hurt to make him feel that his thoughts were wanted.
“We got to go. I here someone coming” Jimmy said and with that they both shoved the vents into place and jumped down from the top bunks.

Just then Julie the jailer walked by, “Hey Julie” Jerld yelled.
“Come Here.”
“Yea, what can I do for you Mr. Mitchell? Do you want your bed turned down or is it time to draw your bath?” She said with a pleasant smile.
Jerld thought to himself, “If she was black she’d be a good arm piece and probably a great piece of ass.” He hated to admit it but black or white he liked her.
She treated him in a way that made him feel good, even though he was in jail. Maybe all white women weren’t so bad after all.
“Julie, what happen to the money that I had when I came in?”
“Did you spend it all on that tough looking guard uniform already?” Jerld kidded.
“Hell, Mr. Mitchell if you would see me in the low cut blouse and the mini-skirt that I bought with it, you would be glad that I spent it.” But then again I get tired of hearing bunk springs squeaking every night, so maybe its better if you didn’t see me.” Julie grinned.
“Julie you are a ball busting woman if I ever saw one.”
“Now get off my case and tell me where my bread is?” He asked.
“I got kids older then you and probably just as mean, but thanks for the complement anyway.” Julie grinned.

“When you came in you had twenty-six hundred dollars and some change, it’s all put in a money folder with your name on it, and then put in the jail safe. Why do you want to spend some on commissary?”
Julie questioned.
“Yea I suppose I should buy some soul food if you got any. Can I put some of it in Jimmy’s account?” he asked.
“ No they won’t let you do that, because we have no way of knowing the money was given willingly or if you were threaten by another inmate and made to do it, so it just not allowed. But with you and your friend’s bond being $2500 do you want to spend any of it?” Julie asked.
“Fuck lady if my bond was only $2500, I would have been out of here yesterday. It is $25,000 for Jimmy and me to get out of this rat-hole.” Jerld spit out.
Julie shook her head and said “Didn’t anyone tell you in court that you could post ten percent of the bond and get out. Those stupid asses they do this to us all the time and then raise hell when someone is held a minute too long. It is the court’s job to make sure you are clear on the procedures, it’s not ours. Mr. Mitchell we thought you just didn’t want to spend your money to get out.”

“I don’t give a shit who did what, Jimmy and I just want out, can you take care of us lady?” Jerld excitedly asked.
“Sure it will only take me about ten minutes and I will be back to get you and Jimmy out of here and on your way.” Julie smiled, shrugged her shoulders and walk away muttering something about dumb asses.
True to her word Julie the jailer returned shortly and said “Grab you blanket and mattress your asses are out of here.”
The mattress was bulky and hard to pick up so Julie reached in a grabbed a corner and folded it like a large wallet and said:
“I’m not your bell-boy you will have to carry it to the storage room.” Away they went Julie in front followed by Jerld pulling his mattress behind him like a small child with his blanket.
Again he was placed in the holding cell and in a few minutes Jimmy appeared with Julie, and was escorted into the same cell, with Julie holding the cell door as if she was a doorman.
Jimmy had a blank look on his face and Jerld just cautioned him “Let me do the talking and were out of here.”
They sat still and didn’t say a word, waiting for Julie or some one to return. They could hear various voices and conversations all going on at once in the hallways and offices throughout the Jail.

Then Jerld heard someone in a deep voice say: “Did you hear that nigger Harris in the Northeast cellblock, died in his sleep last night.”
The voice continued “The coroner and the Sheriff discussed it and they came to the conclusion he died of natural causes and they won’t need the State Cops to investigate it after all.”
“Fuck we all know what he died from it was from being black in a white jail.” Jerld recognized the voice it was the “Ball Player”.
Jerld stomach suddenly erupted and bile spewed out of his mouth and onto the floor.

Chapter Twelve: No Home To Go To

The smell of the vomit was getting stronger with each passing minute, Jimmy had called for help once, but the only response was the voice of the “Ball Player.” “Shut your mouths, or you’ll both be seeing Harris.”
Jimmy was trying his best to clean up the splattered floor. Not because it was vomit, he was doing it because he could see the effect it was having on Jerld. There was a drain in the center of the floor and he was using the sole of his shoe as a squeegee trying to get it to and down the drain. It was losing battle, but to him it was something that had to be done if it bothered “J”.
Julie appeared out of nowhere carrying a mop and a metal bucket.
“Mr. Mitchell you don’t have to leave the food here its free you can keep it,” she said.
Jerld looked up and saw Julie’s big friendly grin, he couldn’t help himself, he smiled.
“You smart-ass, give us that damn mop on your head, it would do a better job.” Jerld replied.
Julie opened the cell door and passed in the mop and bucket, she smiled and ever so slightly touching Jerld’s arm whispered; “Sorry about Harris.” Then she quickly turned and walked away. Jerld thought he saw a hint of real sadness in Julie’s eyes that somehow made him feel sorry for her.

Jimmy had grabbed the mop and was just about done mopping, when the older white shirted man with all the gold pinned to his shirt walked up to the bars. He was the same one that had taken them to court earlier and had explained what was going to happen in court.
“Hey you two listen up. We have removed $2500 from your packet that leaves you with $100 and some change. “There are no buses in this town, so we will give you a ride to the Interstate, where you can buy a ticket and catch one.”
“My suggestion to you boys is that you get on the first one going anyplace, the longer you hang around here the better chance some of our red-neck residents might want to give you a ride to the country, if you get what I mean.
Julie, let them out. With that the white shirt ducked into a side doorway and was gone.
As Julie opened the door she said, “Thanks for cleaning that up, follow me.”
When they left the cell they again had to walk through the garage located in the rear of the jail. Parked in the jail’s driveway was a big van with large letters painted on the both sides saying, SHERIFF’S DEPARTMENT PRISONER TRANSPORT.

Jerld nudged Jimmy and chuckled “At least we won’t stand out.” Jimmy stumbled towards the van laughing and shaking his head.
Jerld’s mind was racing, where should they go, what will they do for money after the hundred they have is gone can they ever go back to Gary? Why wasn’t anything said about Tuney’s ride. Was Gary Cops and Ronnie K both, still looking for them? He didn’t have any answers and he felt since he was the one that got them both into this it was his job to see that they were taken care of.
The van pulled into a large truck stop parking lot, there were trucks and cars parked as far as you could see. At one end of the lot was a large sign that read TOWING and just inside the fence and a little behind the building sat a dark green Lincoln Town Car it had several windows cracked and the top was mashed in on one side.
“Damn there’s Tuney’s ride,” he whispered to Jimmy, nodding his head toward the fenced in area.
The guard driving the van pulled up in front of the truck stop restaurant’s windows and stopped, the side door opened and he growled.
“Get out you can buy bus tickets at the front counter.”
The door slid shut and he pulled away as if he was afraid that Jerld and Jimmy were going to climb back in.

The two of them walked in to the front door of the restaurant.
It was obvious by the looks they received everyone knew they had just exited from the jail van.
Jimmy’s said quietly to Jerld. “Do you see any brothers in this bean factory?” Jerld’s face displayed his answer before he spoke. He looked at Jimmy and with slight sound of disgust he responded; “If there are any they are in the kitchen washing dishes.” “Let’s hit the John” and with Jimmy in front leading the way they walked back towards the sign that said Trucker’s Lounge.
Jimmy was the first to enter and as usual every faced that wasn’t glued to the hillbilly show on the lounge’s big screen TV turned to gage the new comers.
When they saw Jimmy followed by Jerld entering the room it was evident to all the beer bellied, Levi wearing white truck jockeys that nether of these two guys were truckers. The looks on these lounge lizards’ faces turned to disgust, apprehension and fear, it was not a placed that welcomed or saw many black faces.
In this lounge there were all sorts of electronic gambling machines and there was even a coke machine that had been converted to dispense bottled beer.

On top of it was a telephone advertisement with a picture of OJ Simpson holding a suitcase in one hand and a telephone in the other and it said: “Even Super Stars Call Home.”
Someone in bold black letters had written across the sign’s face:
“He’s Calling Gary.”
Next to the coke machine was a door with the outline of a Bull with a great big hard “Dick” hanging down, which was almost as long as it’s hind legs. Next to that there was another door with a picture of a naked girl wearing a cowboy hat. She was standing with her hands on her hips and had her legs spread wide. A word balloon was above her head and it said:
“I’m Gonna Ride That Bull Tonight”
As Jerld and Jimmy approached the doors a laughing voice said;
“Hey, you use the other one on the right.”
Jerld grabbed Jimmy’s arm just as he started to turn and pulled him into the “Bull Room.” There was only one other older truck jockey in the toilet area and when he saw them enter he zipped up his fly and smiled nervously and left.
They both stood side by side and just let the water in the washbasins run while they used the palms of their hands to splash the cold water on their faces.

They had not had the opportunity to shower since they had left Gary several days ago.
The jail shower was in the Day Room in Jerld’s cellblock where the skinheads congregated, and Jerld hadn’t had the time or the inclination to challenge them for a shower. He had thought that he would have to at some time, but that time had not yet arrived before he bonded out.
To Jimmy this was no big deal, but to Jerld having dirt under his fingernails was almost as bad as having to wear underwear. “It just didn’t feel right.”
They both looked up at the same time and looking in the mirrors could see several doors that had printed on their front was, “Showers 75 Cents.”
Without catching his breath, Jerld said, “Jimmy you watch my back I’m gonna shower.”
He pealed off his clothes, deposited three quarters into the slot and stepped into the white tiled floored shower. Jimmy could hear the water running, and thought to himself: “If it was me, I would’ve of got a burger with the 75 cents.”
After about five minutes a large man walked into the bathroom shower area and staggering towards Jimmy. His hand was stretched out as if he wanted to shake hands.

As he approached Jimmy thought “I ain’t shaking hands with that drunk Honky.”
The man walked up to Jimmy and holding out some paper bills said, “I need some quarters Boy”
Jimmy paused and reached into his pocket and said “ Masta, de don give me no quarters, I jus gotta keep dese floors clean fo all yous.”
The man smiled and handed Jimmy a dollar bill.
“Keep it, now you do a nice job on them floors;” he said.
He then staggered over to the wall urinals and proceeded to piss all over himself and the nicely cleaned floors.
When he was done he tried to zip up his pants and after several tries he gave up and just hitched up his pants and turned to leave.
Leaving he looked at Jimmy and said,” Mine’s not long enough to get out any way” and then wobbled out he door.
Jerld finished showering and as he stood drying himself with handfuls of paper towels he said: “Let’s get something to eat and then were gonna see about “Tuney’s ride.”
The restaurant was crowded and there was only one table left. It sat in the very middle of the room and it had a “reserved” sign on it.

Jimmy looked like a hungry lion that had just corner his prey and was getting ready to pounce on it. He walked in a slow circle around the table, reaching for the reserve sign he plopped un-gracefully down in a chair.
Waiving the sign in the air he said to Jerld “They saved us a table.” Jerld would have preferred not to be so confrontational, all the restaurant’s patrons were glaring at them.
Jerld felt “What the hell, they think were bad-ass jail birds we might as well act the part.”
The special of the day was cornbread and beans and had two sizes, large and regular.
A young white girl who looked as if she was going to drop her writing pad, nervously said to Jimmy, “Sir this table is reserved.”
“Two large specials and a glass of milk,” Jimmy responded.
The waitress looked back over her shoulder and there was a small balding overweight man standing by the kitchen door. She hunched her shoulders, and old bald-head, with his arms folded across his chest flicked a wrist, as if he was brushing away a fly, he then turned and walked back into the kitchen.
The shaking waitress then turned to Jerld and asked, “What will you have to drink?”

Jerld replied, “A coke and I’ll have the special.” The waitress looked puzzled and nodding at Jimmy said.
“He already ordered you one, Sir.”
Jerld smiling said, “Miss, both of them are for him, he’s still growing.” The waitress smiling said, “Not much more, I hope.”
She walked away giggling and looked over her shoulder as she pushed in on the kitchen door and smiled again.
Jimmy ate like he was not sure if he would ever be able to find food again.
The waitress had to make several trips back to the counter area to refill his milk.
When they both had finished Jerld got up and made a point to let everyone see he had a wad of money, of course it was mostly ones, then laying down a five-dollar tip said, “Lets see about a ride.”
Walking out they both started walking through the parking lot of trucks of all sizes and shapes. Jimmy didn’t say a word he just followed.
They walked through the chain link fence’s gate and went directly to a small office that was located under the large Towing sign. J & J both walked in and Jerld walked right up to a counter at the back of the office.

A young guy wearing blue coveralls with the name “Benda’s Towing embroidered above one pocket and above the other pocket it said, “ Jake, Manager.” He got up from the only desk and approaching the counter said “What can I do for you Gentlemen today?”
Without a stammer Jerld said, “I’m here to check on my sister’s car, it was wrecked down here by a couple of our nephews. It is a green 1971 Lincoln Town Car.”
I believed you or the police called her and said that she should make some arrangements to pick it up.”
Jimmy was enjoying this, every since they were kids, he had seen Jerld do his thing, to get them out of trouble. He wasn’t sure what Jerld planned to do, but he would bet the restroom drunk’s dollar that Jerld would get it done. You could see dollar signs rolling in Jake the Tow man’s eyes. He thought he had a couple of suckers and he was going to make a few coins.
“Yes Sir, them kids really did a number on it. It’s parked out back, come on I’ll take you out there,” and gestured for them to follow.
When they got the car in sight, Jerld exclaimed ‘”Oh shit, she is going to be pissed, it’s a good thing she had just bought that new Caddy. She probably will just junk this thing.”

Jake with his mouth watering said. “Yea it probably ain’t worth anything its pretty well beat up. You know if she wants to get rid of it, I’ll take it off her hands and give you a few bucks for the tires. I can sell them. Hell I’ll even forget the tow bill.”
Jimmy knew that Jerld had just thrown out the bait and a big old carp picked it up and was tugging on it. Now all Jerld had to do is wait and Jake would swallow the bait, the entire pole and if Jerld wasn’t careful this know-it-all hillbilly carp would try to chew a little off of his arm.
“I don’t think I can do anything, without talking to my sister. Do you have a phone I can use to make a call?” Jerld asked.
Jake had him by the arm and was leading Jerld to the desk around behind the counter.
“Sit here, you boys want some coffee?” with that he grabbed a glass pot off of a small burner and poured two cups of a horrible smelling black liquid. “It’s been on a while, but it should be OK.” he said.
Jimmy declined, but Jerld picked up a cup and started to drink, pausing he said, “Its long distance is that all right?”
“Hell” Jerld thought to himself, “That car is still worth a couple of thousand even wrecked.”

Jerld had started to dial before Jake even responded with a
“Sure, anything for a customer.”
Jake had already figured it out, if he could get the Town Car for a couple of hundred bucks, he had another wrecked one just like it. He would make one good one out of the two, paint it and sell it for three or four grand. He could kiss a couple of black asses for an hour or so for that kind of money.
Jerld talking on the phone said, “Sis, I’m sorry to tell you this but the T-car is totaled and ain’t worth much now.”
He pretended to listen and then said, “You’ll send him the title, wait a minute.”
Turning to Jake he said, “Sis doesn’t want the car if it’s wrecked, she was going to give it to the nephews anyway, before they stole it. She wants your address and says I can make whatever deal I can with you for the car. What’s address for this place?”
Jake quickly handed Jerld a business card and said “It’s on there.”
Then Jerld read the address over the phone and then said,
“I know I know they won’t screw me, Sis, I’ll take care of it, Love you, Good-by.” Then he hung up.
Jerld said, “Lets get down to business, I know you want the car and have some plans for it, or you wouldn’t be offering to buy it.

My Sis don’t know how bad it’s wrecked, but I can see that for a few hundred or so you probably can fix it up and sell it.”
Jake just stood silent and listened as Jerld went on.
“My nephews can use a ride and they don’t care if there is a title to it or not. What do you have around here that is drivable and you can’t get rid of because you don’t have the proper papers for it? I used to work for a wrecker outfit in Gary and I know you tow them in abandoned all the time.”
“Let see what you got, we’ll take my Sister’s tags off of the Town Car and use them to get home.”
Jake’s face changed he was no longer the good old boy helping out some customers.
He was a man that had been in the wrecker business for a lot of years and he and Jerld understood each other.
“That piece of shit you claim your sister owns is only worth a few hundred to me if you want cash, but I have a old Chevy Nova that runs, but hasn’t got any papers, You change the plates and get your ass out of here and tell your Sis never mind about the papers, I have some that will fit it, I just need you to sign that you picked the Town Car up and I don’t care what fucking name you use. I’ll just tell the cops that the owner’s brother picked it up and showed me the title for it.”

“Get the plates, get them on that Nova and get your black asses out of here.”
Jake then smiled a knowing smile, which was returned by Jerld, they understood each other very well. Jimmy had not said a word the entire time the bargaining was going on. When they were driving out of the wrecker lot he looked at Jake and said: “Don’t ever call me Boy again or I’ll come back and gut you.” Jimmy smiled his meanest grin and drove away.

Chapters 9 & 10

2007-09-17T19:28:00.000-07:00

READERS

Chapter Nine: I Can Take care of Myself

Jerld was pushed into a gated area and was placed in a small cell that contained nothing but a steel bench welded to one wall. His handcuffs were removed and he could see that the cuffs had slashed and gashed his wrists in several places. His wrists looked as if someone had taken a knife and ran it in a couple of circles around both of them. The numbness was wearing off and he could feel the rhythmic pulsating of the blood slowly seeping out and it stung like hell. Some water to pour over them would have been appreciated, but his pride would not let him ask for anything from these fucking cops.
He sat down on the cold steel bench and leaned his head against the wall and for the first time since being a kid, he was frightened. He had no idea where Jimmy was or what was going to happen next and this was the first time he had ever been this far away from the streets of Gary.
No matter how hard the streets were to live on, they were his home and he felt comfortable among all the vacant and torn down buildings. The back street whore houses and the after hour joints were all he had ever known and right now he missed them and wondered if he would ever see them or his momma again.
As he leaned against the wall he could hear the muffled sound of voices, it was Jimmy and he was talking to a woman.

The woman was saying, “I am a Jail Officer and my name is Julie. I need to see if we can clean you up a little.”
The sound of running water could be heard and Jimmy’s making whispering sounds of “Ooooh, ooooh.”
Jerld thought it strange that Jimmy would be so quiet and calm now.
Jerld felt a sense of relief now that he knew Jimmy was “OK.” Even though they could not see each other at least they were still close to each other.
A tall blond well-built woman came up to the front of the cell bars where Jerld was now groggily leaning against the wall. The minute she spoke Jerld knew she was the woman he had heard talking to Jimmy a few minutes ago.
She said, “I am a Jail Officer. My name is Julie and I have to ask you some questions and then process you.”
Jerld reacted with a fuck you and your questions bitch.”
He didn’t want any part of Julie or her questions, but down deep he was glad that she was a woman.
“I want a lawyer”, he belched at her. “I know my rights.”
Julie, the Jailer, just shrugged and smiled as if she had seen and heard this many times and expected it.

“Sir, you will have to answer my questions sooner or later, and until you do, you will be held in this holding cell by yourself.” Shrugging her shoulders she turned to walk away.
Jerld’s mind was spinning, “By myself, where is Jimmy, could I see him if I answer the questions?”
Julie, the jail guard, turned and smiled and said “By the way your friends ok, he has a cut on the side of his head that looks like a cow’s liver, and won’t let us take him to the doctor. He needs stitches; we’ll put you where you can talk with him after you’re booked in.”
Jerld wasn’t sure of what he should do, but he thought Julie the Jailer seemed to be straight with him.
“What’s your full name?” Julie asked.
“Jerld” he replied.
He hadn’t used his last name since he had left school. He didn’t like it, or was it that he even wasn’t sure of what it was. He had never seen his birth certificate. His real Daddy’s, if he really was his Dad, last name was Cale, Jerld was never sure of what name he should use so he didn‘t respond to Jailer Julie‘s question. His momma used her live-in boy friend’s last name of Mitchell, and school records listed him as “Jerld Dewayne Mitchell.”

So he said “Wayne Jerld.” What the hell he thought, it was as good of a name as any.
Julie just shrugged and wrote it down.
“What’s your date of birth?” she sort of grinned, knowing that she would not get the right answer to this question either.
“Twenty-seven" Jerld spit out.
He was still only nineteen but what the hell; it would make the cop’s job a lot tougher to find out who he really was.
Julie the Jailer paused and said, “I asked you, what was your date of birth?”
Jerld started to think and quickly responded with, “I said I was twenty-seven, you fucking figure it out, bitch.”
Jerld was sorry he had said that, Julie the Jailer had been up front with him and had not been an ass-hole like the other “Pigs”.
As the questions continued there were more lies and more smirks and many more shrugs of Julie’s shoulders. After about 15 minutes and what seemed like a hundred questions later.
Julie smiled and said “Well Mr. Jerld since you did your best to be a smart-ass and weren’t truthful with your answers.”

“We will just put you into the solitary until we find out who you really are. If you decide you want to try this again just holler and we will start this bull-shit all over again.”
By the way Mr. Tyler is in the north cell block wanting to see you.” Then Julie the Jailer turned quickly and walked away.
Jerld plopped down on the cold steel bench and throwing his head back and muttered, “Damn” under his breath.
Jimmy must have told them everything, he thought, they knew his full name and Jimmy’s last name. What had Jimmy said about the car, or “Nads”? Jerld decided he better get to where Jimmy was before it was too late. One half of “J & J” was not as strong as they were together.
“Hey lady” Jerld screamed. “Hey lady. Hey Julie come here.”
There was total silence except for a very quietly whispered “I told you so” and then lower yet he heard a female voice giggle.
“Hey guard,” Jerld’s voice had urgency to it that even he didn’t recognize.
They say when you get scared your voice raises an octave or two, Jerld was scared and felt he was at the mercy of the jailers and Jimmy’s mouth.
He had always trusted Jimmy, but they had never been in jail before let alone one where the only faces you saw were white.

Jimmy hated all whites and he had threatened to kill a “Whitey” many times. But this was always done when he was with Jerld and surrounded by nothing but black faces.
Jerld knew that down deep Jimmy was afraid of the “White-Honkys,” as he would always call them.
He overcame this fear, like any other bully would by trying to cover it up with his mouth.
Everyone was sure that Jimmy was the one that had killed a couple of white kids a few years ago, who had come to Gary to score some dope. When they had flashed a big role of bills, but only bought a couple of dime bags, Jimmy became enraged and thought they were making fun of him and Jerld.
It was said. That Jimmy dragged them out of their car and down an alley. When the cops discovered them, they both were sitting on top of a trashcan, placed side by side. Their hands were tied to the can’s side handles with rope and their legs were wrapped tightly to the bottom of the cans with duct tape. In each in their mouths was a dead rat, stuck in headfirst.
Very little of the rat’s heads were left, they appeared to have been chewed off, as if the kids were trying to eat them so a breath could be taken.
The story goes that Jimmy stuck the live rats into their mouths and would hold it there until they were about to pass out from lack of air.

Then he would pull out the bloody, still squealing rat and say, “Eat your supper then I’ll let go and play with your other fucking white friends.”
He continued to stick the rats into their mouths again and again, until they would gag. Each time he shoved the rats into their mouths they choked, out gasp, in choke, out gasp, supposedly this went on for several minutes.
It was said on the streets that Jimmy kept laughing and saying, “Look Jerld the rat’s head is almost gone and he is still squirming.”
Then one of the kids gagged and stopped breathing so Jimmy just stuffed the other rat in as far as he could into the last kids mouth, and walked away. This story was repeated many times on the streets of Gary and each time it was told the teller would add a little to it and of course Jimmy’s reputation for being a “Bad Ass” grew with each telling.
Only Jerld and Jimmy knew it wasn’t true.
Jerld was the one who made it up a years ago, when they were 16 years old, to scare the other drug dealers away from him and Jimmy’s corner. It worked.
The female guard walked around the corner, she had a younger male jail guard with her. He didn’t look very tough, Jerld thought to himself, he was only a little bit taller then the female guard they called Julie.

Julie said, “Do you want to tell me who you really are now, or you just going to try to bull shit me some more?”
Jerld was still a little afraid of what was going to happen to him, but he thought if he could get to Jimmy they’d get everything together so they could at least cover each other’s ass.
“Yea I’ll tell you, but first I want to know where Jimmy is and where will I go.”
“I told you before, Jimmy is OK, after you get booked and fingerprinted you will be able to see for yourself,” the female guard said.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Jerld Dewayne Mitchell,” Jerld responded sarcastically.
“What’s your date of birth?”
Jerld paused, he didn’t know what to say, he didn’t want them to think he was a kid and then try to push him around.
“I am twenty-three and I was born on July 4th, you figure out the year, smart-ass.” he had lied again.
He figured he looked at least that old.
Jerld was looking through the cell bars and gripping them with both hands. Before he realized what was happening the male guard slammed a large wooden club against the bars striking Jerld’s fingers.

Jerld screamed as he fell back against the rear cell wall “You fucking son of a bitch, you broke my fingers.”
The guard just took a step back and grinned,
Julie the jailer turned to face the male guard and said, “That’s it Phil, get your ass out of here before I do something your going to regret.”
Jerld could feel the tension between the two guards.
The male guard glared at Julie and started to speak; Jerld could see the hatred in his eyes.
It was apparent that this guard was afraid of what Julie could or would do.
The male guard abruptly turned and muttered “nigger bitch” and then stomped off.
Julie turned back and said “July 4th, twenty-three years ago, is that right?’
Jerld was now sitting on the steel bench holding his fingers; they were throbbing like eight “stiff dicks” and without a warm moist place to cool them.
The remaining questions were just a blur to Jerld. His fingers were starting to swell and the pain was almost unbearable.

The female guard was now standing against the cell bars and asked Jerld to hold out his hands.
He did and she sort of cradled each one in her hands and said; “Nothing seems to be broken, do you want to go to the doctor?”
His hands felt warm in hers; he just shook his head from side to side. Julie the jailer said, “I’m sorry” and turned and walked away.
It seem like several hours had went by when Jerld, who had been lying on the steel bench, heard a solid thunk and then a heard a male voice.
“Get you ass up, your going to the back,” the voice barked.
Standing in the open doorway was Phil and he had his big stick held across his shoulder as if he was a baseball player waiting his turn to bat. Jerld was still groggy and Phil again appeared to be agitated.
He walked toward Jerld and said, “Did you hear me get your black ass up or I will make like Babe Ruth.”
For some reason Jerld didn’t fear Phil. He had seen many brothers on the streets of Gary who had the same attitude as this honky guard. They were always heeled with a big club or a “piece” wherever they went.
It was because; down deep they were cowards and were afraid without some sort of weapon.

Jerld staggered to his feet and the loudmouth guard pushed him out of the cell and down a long corridor. As Jerld approached a large green painted steel door, he could hear a quiet rumbling sound.
The closer he got to the door the louder it seemed to get. He at first couldn’t figure out what this sound was and it puzzled him.
It was as if a volcano was about to erupt and the lava would flow out when the big door was opened. The door opened and the sound was deafening. He could see only two solid green painted walls directly in front of him, but he now new what the strange rumbling sound was.
It was the sound of many caged souls all in their own little cell worlds, trying their best to communicate with each other and nobody was listening.
Jerld couldn’t believe the noise. It was as if they were all standing in a subway tunnel, screaming in hopes of getting someone’s attention from the streets above. A guttural sound drifted down the cellblock walkway and Jerld smiled, it was Jimmy’s voice.
The guard pushed Jerld towards the walkway to the right, Jerld hesitated, Jimmy’s voice had come from the left.
Just then Jerld’s shoulder blades reacted to the cracking sound of the bat like club, as it struck the center of his back.
“To the right ass-hole”, Jerld did what he was told.

He thought to himself, “My time will come and Fuck Face Phil” will regret it when it does.”
On the right side was a cement walkway that appeared to be about one hundred feet long.
On one side of the walkway there were small steel reinforced windows strung out about every four feet. To the left there was nothing but steel bars as far as you could see. The cells were all dark and the walkway had a light about every ten feet. Each light had at most a forty watt bulb sticking out of the socket. It reminded Jerld of the whorehouse hallway that Jimmy and he had snuck into when they were kids, looking for Jimmy’s mother. Jerld still remembered her warning, her body blocking the entire hallway, arms folded to her chest she said, “What goes on back there is none of your business.”
Everywhere Jerld looked it was painted green. Jerld hated green already. The guard opened a barred door at the closest end of the cellblock.
Then he said, “We’re out of mattresses, you sleep on the floor.”
He then shoved Jerld inside and slammed and locked the cellblock door.
Jerld stood there for a few seconds trying to adjust his eyes to the dimly lit cells. He could see what looked like a large cell just to his left and in it had a TV, mounted high on the wall.

In the middle of the room was a large metal picnic table that was bolted to the floor. Filling the room, sitting on the table, on every inch of floor space, and standing in every nook and cranny were several men in various stages of undress. Their skin glistened in the dim lights, they were all white.
Jerld hesitated for a few minutes and then started to walk down the cell walkway, every white face turned his way and no one uttered a word. As Jerld stood about halfway down the walkway, trying to figure out what to, do he heard a quiet voice say “Hey brother in here.”
There was no doubt in his mind that voice was black. He walked a couple of more steps when a hand reach out and grabbed his arm and jerked him into a cell. Jerld turned and there stood a black man. He was at least six foot six inches tall and must have weighed almost three hundred pounds.
Jerld was frightened; he had heard all the stories of what is done to a pretty-boy in jail.
Jerld reacted the only way he knew he swung a fist straight at face of this huge man.
Like a well-trained baseball catcher the big brother caught his fist in the palm of his huge hand.
“Don’t be scared, I take care of brothers.” he said and then let go of Jerld’s hand and sat down on the bottom steel bunk.

“My name is Harris, what’s yours?” he whispered quietly
“Jerld, don’t fuck with me” Jerld said in his meanest voice.
Harris laughed and grinned one of the friendliest smiles Jerld had ever seen on a brother.
“Sit down and relax son, I’ll take care of you and you will be alright.”
This man was a giant and he had a voice that could scare popcorn into popping. It was deep and sounded like tires grinding into a Graves road.
“Well Jerld, the first thing you have to know is that there were only three blacks in this jail until you and that other brother came in last night. So that now makes five of us,” Harris said.
“The guards try to keep us separated, because they are afraid of us.”
They put you in here with me because there are only four cell blocks, so they didn’t have much of a choice they had to double up somewhere.”
Jerld only sat and listened while Harris talked.
“Have you met Julie yet?” Harris asked. Jerld nodded.
“Julie is OK, she came back last night and asked if I could take care of a scared black kid, if they put him back here with me. That is why you are here.”
Jerld mumbled weakly “I can take care of myself.”

Harris then stood up and leaned into Jerld’s face “Sure you can boy, this is a red neck county and they don’t like niggers from Gary. So the first thing you have to realize is “That this Jail is White.”

Chapter 10 A Jail Education is Quickly Learned.

It was getting light out and Jerld could see the sun slowing working its way toward the long skinny windows on the other side of the jail catwalk. Jerld was sitting on the top bunk and Harris was snoring like a dog growls when it is being threatened. Maybe it could be better described as a drawn out sound resembling what is heard when a mean dog has just trapped a small cat and is patiently and deliciously tearing and devouring it one bite at a time.
Jerld had no idea what time it was. He and Harris sat up most of the night talking about what you had to do to get over on the other cell block ass- holes he referred to as Honky Hill-billy Cons. Jerld had not had the opportunity to talk to anyone else in this cell block yet, he felt safer where he was, in a cell with Harris’s at his side. Last night Jerld had asked Harris why he was the only occupant of a double bunk cell, when the floors of the walkway and the other cells were cluttered with bodies. Sleeping so close together it was impossible to take a step without kicking someone or something.
Harris simply said, “They tried me, now they leave me alone.”
That was enough of an answer for Jerld; he understood that Harris was a man that unless you wanted to risk an ass kicking.

You were better off just leaving him alone.
Jerld could smell a slight smell of eggs cooking and coffee. He figured that it must be for the guards. He never got breakfast at home, let alone eggs. His mother was a great cook, but she didn’t get up until after he had already left for school, and she definitely couldn’t stand the smell of anything frying early in the morning, especially eggs. The smell got stronger and he could hear a lot of movement throughout the cellblock. Everyone was getting out of their bunks and off the floor. Most of them could be seen lining up at the end of the walkway.
He heard a loud clank as if someone had just banged a large piece steel pipe against the steel door.
Suddenly Harris roared “There better be two trays left or someone gonna be eating without teeth.” Jerld stood back as Harris rose up from his bunk. “Shee-it” Jerld muttered under his breath, Harris was even bigger then he had even imagined last night. Harris grinned a big toothy smile and strode out of the cell, heading down toward the big steel door. Jerld followed close behind.
As they walked it seemed like all the younger whites, were almost bowing to Harris. They would utter “Hey H” or something like “Howsitgoing” and drop their eyes.

As they got closer to the door, Jerld could see a small group of older whites that seemed to have tattoos all over their bodies and most of them had shaved heads. It looked like they were in their early twenties up too maybe fifty years old. They did not move for Harris nor did they even take notice that he had approached. Jerld thought it strange that Harris just stopped and whispered, “Remember this jail is a white.”
Jerld could see now that what he had heard clanging was a small chute in the middle of the door. Through this tiny opening someone was shoving steel trays of food in one at a time. Each tray of food would be grabbed and the grabber then would turn and walk back down the walkway past Harris and Jerld.
If he was young Harris would smile and step aside, if it was one of the older groups Harris would stand fast and make them walk around him. Each of them as they past would whisper. “It’s not your time nigger.”
Harris would just stare into their eyes until they would drop their head and scurry away. Jerld could see a very slight quiver in Harris’s hands as he continued to stare each one down. When Harris got to the food chute, he grabbed a tray and handed it to Jerld and grabbed a second one for himself.

“Faaaaauk” Jerld mumbled, “Eggs, sausages, toast, juice and coffee,” he was bunking with the king of the cellblock and now he was going to eat like one too.
He and Harris walked back to their cell, and as they did Jerld would smirk as he passed by each cell. When they got to their cell Jerld was starving and he just ate.
When he looked up, he noticed that Harris wasn’t eating and it appeared that his hands were trembling.
Harris said, “Here take mine” and pushed his tray toward Jerld. Without saying a word Harris laid down in his bunk. Jerld ate in silence.
When the food was gone Jerld asked, “Hey man, you alright?”
Harris just rolled over onto his side and faced the wall. There were loud eating noises coming from the other cells and so many of the jailbirds were talking at the same time Jerld could not understand a word. He just sat and thought of what he and Jimmy had done and what was going to happen to them.
If they could only talk together for a few minutes, they could plan on what to say about the car and “Nads”
Less then ten feet separated Jimmy and Jerld, but there were many bars and a wall between them making it seem like miles.

Something strange was going on, every few minutes one of the older Cons would stroll by and glance quickly into the cell occupied by Harris and Jerld.
“Harris wake up,” Jerld quietly stammered. “Harris, Harris.”
Just then a paper cup filled with some type of fluid was thrown into the cell, by a white arm with a brightly colored tattoo. It landed at the foot of the double bunks. Harris bounded out of the bunk, shoving Jerld against the wall. “Lighter Fluid” he said in a very matter of fact tone. Following the fluid was a lit cigarette lighter; Harris was ready, as if he had done this many times. He pulled the blanket off the bottom bunk and in one pitch had covered the entire flame and lighter as if he were spreading out a picnic blanket. No smoke, no nothing, it just went out like a turned off light.
Harris quickly spun around and started down the walkway towards the cell with the TV. Jerld was following right behind him; he had no choice he felt it was the safest place to be at the time.
When they got to the cell door it looked like every white face in the whole cellblock had all of a sudden decided to try to squeeze into this one cell. Jerld could see in the rear of the cell sitting at the end of a steel picnic table was an older white Con. He had a shaved head and across his forehead was a scar that looked as if at some earlier time someone had tried to scalp him.

He was leaning with his back against the wall and had his arms folded so he was proudly displaying the brightly colored tattooed arm, Jerld had seen when the paper cup full of lighter fluid was flung into their cell.
Harris stopped at the cell door and said, “You fucking skin head,” looking to the rear of the cell “You better keep an army around you or your dead.”
The skin head just grinned and lifted his tattooed arm and displayed his middle finger, which had three Ks, tattooed one on top of the other. Then Harris turned to each white face and looked at them directly and slowly nodded his head up and down.
“I’ll remember,” he said. It was as if they were all suddenly embalmed, their cheeks turned a pallor shade of white and their heads dropped as if their throats had just been slit.
Harris turned and walked back towards his cell with several catcalls and the taunt of “nigger, nigger” following Jerld and him.
Jerld couldn’t believe how he was feeling. It was as if he had just been tested. He was proud that he had stood his ground with Harris and he knew now that whatever happened he and Harris would always back each other up, even it cost them their lives. They would die as brothers if need be.

He had this feeling of being part of something, call it brotherhood, family, or it could be a combination of both.
It didn’t matter really what it was. It made him feel strong and gave him a sense of having done the right thing for once in his life. He felt good.
All at once he knew why his older aunts and uncles, and his mother were so fiercely proud of being black. It didn’t matter what they did or who they were, if help was needed it would always be there.
The rest of that morning Harris and Jerld just had some small talk and it was as if the morning incident hadn’t even happened. The young Cons would walk by their cell and would make a weak effort to get on Harris’s good side by offering him coffee or some other commissary item that they had bought.
He would just nod his head “No,” then they would shrug and walk away.
If the skinheads came by the cell they would just make some sort of grunting sound and snicker. Harris would turn his back to them as if he taunting them to take their best shot, if they were brave enough. This would piss them off and they would scurry like mice back to the TV cell. Then the sounds of their voices would drift throughout the cellblock.
To Jerld they sounded like the little boys in his old neighborhood.

The younger boys would stand on the street corners telling dirty stories or one would read aloud some sex- sentences out of an eight pager. The sound of their whispers and giggling would drift up to the open windows of his momma’s apartment.
Jerld felt that they had something planned for him and Harris, but for some reason that didn’t worry him. It was hard to explain even to himself, but he felt he would know when the trouble was going to start and now wasn’t the time.
Harris asked, “Who did you kill to get lock up in this hill-billy jail?”
The questioned startle Jerld. He paused and wondered if Harris had heard something or if Jimmy had said something and it had already spread throughout the jail.
“Several ass-holes in last few years, but none you would know,” Jerld responded with a laughed.
Harris chuckled, Fuck kid, you tried to out run the man and wrecked your ride, don’t jive-ass me. It’s all over the jail.”
Jerld smiled and said, “How in hell do you know what I did?”
“Sonny I can see your no harden Con, or you would know the guards and the cops have big mouths. They sit on their asses in their little funky jail offices talking about how great they are.

They never realize that there is a trusty or a Con walking by the door several times a day. Hell we know what’s going on in this jail before the jail bosses.”
Jerld started to tell Harris all about being chased by the man and how he and Jimmy ended up wrecking the car. He left out everything that happen before they got the car and didn’t go into detail about his other troubles.
Harris understood, Jerld would only tell him what he wanted Harris to know and nothing more. That was fine with Harris.
“What did they hang on an old man like you” Jerld taunted.
“Why you snot nose piece of shit. I’m only thirty-five and I will kick your ass.” Harris said. Then raised his hand in a weak attempt to swat Jerld.
With the grace of an antelope Jerld jumped into the top bunk and shot back with: “You’re to slow old man” and they both laughed as if they didn’t have a care in the world.
Jerld said, “If Jimmy was here we’d kick your ass, but he isn’t so I guess I’ll let you live.”
“He just next door why don’t you call him, so I can whip both of your black asses” Harris laughingly threatened.
Jerld stopped as if he had been slapped. “Hey man, do you know for sure where is his?” he asked.

“What did I say, hell yes, do want to talk to him?” Harris offered.
With that Harris swung around and lifted himself up along side of Jerld in the top bunk. He reached under the overhead light cover’s trim ring and pulled out a piece of a bunk’s spring that had been sharpened to a point and looked like a flat spike.
“This is for Pig sticking and hill-billy forking. They look good when they are skewered on the end of this,” Harris chuckled.
Harris took the mettle spike and began to pry on a wall-heating vent mounted near the ceiling. After prying on all four corners the vent cover came off, with the screws still intact.
Jerld was to find out later that the screws were held in place with glue made out of toothpaste. Harris reached into the vent pipe and knocked quietly three times and then two more.
It was only a few minutes and the vent in the wall just opposite of them was pulled open and an older white Con looked in from the other cellblock and said “It will cost you a popcorn today.”
“Your honky-ass it will, I’ll give you a coffee.” Harris bartered.
Popcorn was expensive through the jail commissary it cost two-bucks, coffee packets sold for only fifty-cents a piece.
“You cheap ass you know I’m broke. Who do want?”

The Con asked. “The black kid.” Harris answered.
The white Con screwed up his face and said “He’s trouble, you better be careful Harris, we’re friends and I’m telling you this kid is crazy, he has beat three white kids almost to death just in the few hours he been in here. This will cost you a popcorn.” with that he disappeared.
Jerld waited, and then heard someone climbing up into the top bunk in the cell adjacent to his. As if in the middle of a picture frame Jimmy’s face appeared at the other end of the vent.
When he saw Jerld his face lit up like a pumpkin on Halloween.
“Jerld, Jerld, your OK, I was worried.” Jimmy whispered.
“I’m good Jimmy,” Jerld replied. “You look like you’ve been breaking bricks with your face”
Jimmy chuckled, “Well three of them tried me, but I used them for toilet stoppers”
“There is this ass-hole who thought he could do a little tap dancing on my face, while his two buddies held me down. He went to the hospital, another was taken out of here by the guards and I think is now in another cellblock somewhere. I am standing on the third one, his head is in the stool and I’m holding it down with my foot.” Jimmy grinned and then winched from the bruises on his face.

“Let him go Jimmy we gotta talk,” Jerld said.
Jerld could see Jimmy’s head slowly slide down below the vent opening. He heard a strange noise then realized what it was. It was the sound of someone pissing, and then a male voice making a coughing and then gagging sounds. There was a pause and then the sound of a muffle craaack. Then there was only silence until you could hear Jimmy’s voice quietly say.
“Get out of here, you can use the other arm fuck-head, crawl.”
Jimmy’s head popped up again and said, “He’s gone we can talk.”
“What have you told them?” Jerld quickly whispered.
“Nothing,” Jimmy shot back, I told them our names and that the car belonged to some whore in Gary and she let us use it.”
“They asked why we ran and I told them we had some dope dealers looking for us so we just left town. I said we got scared when that cop started tailing us. We thought it was those big bad dope dealers trying to hurt us.”
“The windows were all dirty and we couldn’t see they were cops until they ran us off the road. They tried to get me to say something different. But I just acted dumb. I think the fat-assed cop believes me.”
Jerld only smiled and thought to himself, Jimmy is not as slow as people think.
“You did good Jimmy.” remember that’s our line from now on.”

Jimmy smiled and said, “I told them I was twenty, Thomas’s birthday because it was the only one I could remember.”
“I said twenty-three and they believed me. Jerld replied.
All of a sudden Jerld felt a tug on his pant leg.
“The Mans coming, get down.” Harris said.
Jerld whispered, “gotta go” and jumped down.
The last site he saw was Jimmy looking through the vent with a lost look on his face.
Harris was able to jam the vent cover back in place with one quick push and then he plopped down on the floor and started to do pushups.
When you are in one of the rear cellblocks you have a slight advantage over the other cellblock denizens. When the man comes, there is a synchronized silence that creeps down the walkway ahead of the guard. You can trace his progress and almost can tell exactly when a head will appear in front of your cell.
Jerld laid back against the wall with his feet folded up underneath him, in Indian fashion. He always slept in this position since he was a little kid.
His mother and all his aunts and uncles thought it was strange way to sleep. To him it was comfortable, this way he knew no one could get at his feet when he hid them under his legs.

He didn’t remember much about his real Dad, except he did remember how the big black leather belt felt as it was whacked time and time again across the balls of his feet. His Dad would come home drunk and would ask Jerld’s mother for money. It didn’t matter if she gave him some or not, it never was enough.
He would start beating her and then when Jerld and his sister would cry, the door would open to their bedroom and they would see this huge black figure standing there.
Curled around his hand would be a long black belt that seemed as if it were a snake looking for a prey.
As he and his sister would softly whisper. “No Daddy, No”.
The figure would approach, and the first whack was always the worst. Its sting was so painful the rest of the blows only felt as if your legs were being pulled down the bark of a tree scrapping all the way to the ground. The Man in the cell doorway would not get a shot at Jerld’s feet.
The guard was the “Ball Player” from the night before and he had again brought his bat.
He said “Harris, there someone here to visit you.”
Harris stood up and said. “Today’s not visiting day.”

It was now dark outside and you could see the bat silhouetted in the small walkway window.
“It is for you, they’re in the day room waiting,” the guard uttered.
The day room is what they called the cell where the TV was. Jerld knew that visitors would not be in there; he took step forwards to go with Harris. The guard shoved him back with the end of the bat-like club.
Harris turned to Jerld and said “Remember what I said, This Jail is White”
The guard grabbed Harris and pulled him out into the walkway and closed and locked the cell door.
Harris was proud. He walked away like a man going to Sunday church. Head high, shoulders pulled back and body erect.
He knew what lie ahead for him, but he would face it like he had always faced everything in life, proud and un-bowed.
Harris was led down to the larger cell, inside was the tattoo bunch that he had threatened earlier in the day. Harris knew what had happen; they had bought some “Thumping time” from the guard. Harris had seen this many times before in many different jails.
The guard would set a price he wanted and there would be no bargaining.

If the price was left in a book in the food chute, all the other guards would walk to the opposite end of the jailhouse and pretend to do some menial task, like checking the waste paper baskets. The guard who had set the price would then handle the escort duties and would conveniently pick up the book left in the food chute containing the price. Harris looked to the food chute it was a Bible.
Harris said a short prayer to it, as the guard shoved him into the day room, grabbed the Bible, and closed the cell door.
Several arms and hands grabbed him at once, fingernails digging in with the force of a hundred needles.
Harris fought. He got one of his arms loose and struck a hairless face with such force that all the front teeth splintered at once with the fragments embedding into Harris’ fist. He felt a kick to his back and turned with several arms now hanging onto him.
He saw the tattoo man. As blows continued striking his head, back and sides he lunged forward and was able to get his hands around the throat of the skinhead tattooed gang leader.
Harris felt the Adams apple crunch under his thumbs, as he begin to loose consciousness he saw the skinhead’s tongue pop out of his mouth followed by a rush of bright red blood.

His eyes were like two long tunnels and way down at the very end of the tunnels was a small light that just switched off as if it was no longer needed.
That was the last thing Harris saw.
Jerld could hear all the noise and commotion down at the end of the cellblock, he knew what was happening and felt helpless because he could not help his newfound friend Harris.
Something strange was going on, Jerld could hear a lot talking and there was a lot of movement. He could hear cells being closed and locked one after the other. He looked up and two guards were dragging Harris up to the front of their cell.
They had his lifeless body draped between them and could barely hold him up. They open the cell door and dragged him to his lower bunk and laid him down face first. Jerld thought it strange that they were taking so much time to place him in just the right position as if he was sleeping. They worked as if he wasn’t even there.
After they had placed him exactly the way they wanted him to be, they turned and said:
“Keep your fucking mouth shut nigger or your next.”
Jerld tried to wake Harris by shaking his shoulder. Harris didn‘t budge.

Then he grabbed Harris by the hips and with a lot of effort he was able to turn him over. Jerld shuttered as he looked down at a pulp of a face. There was very little blood only redness around the eyes and upper cheekbones. The face was swollen at least twice it‘s size.
Harris hadn’t moved since he had been carried in by the two guards and placed so carefully in his bunk. Jerld only had a few seconds to try and talk to Harris, and find out what happened, but he couldn’t wake Harris up. Harris sounded as if he was snoring with his head in a bucket of water. He made gurgling noises that could barely be heard, unless an ear was placed next to his lips.
Then Jerld noticed between the swollen rings of Harris‘s neck was a small black line that appeared to have been painted or tattooed around Harris’s neck.
He bent down and lifted a small flabby part of the neck and saw that it was not a tattoo, but was a black electrical cord from the day room TV the plug was still dangling at its end.
Jerld turned to the toilet stool and puked, and puked again and again until there was nothing but bile coming up.
He stumbled to the corner of the cell and slowly slid down until he was in his sleeping position, protecting his feet from another horrible monster.

His eyes closed and his mind drifted off to Gary and his mother, sisters, and their apartment home. Jerld fell asleep to the gurgling sounds of Harris. Jerld went to sleep hoping Harris would be better in the morning.
Although he had just met Harris the night before, he felt that they had stood together as one, so now Harris was his responsibility and he would help him in any way he could.
Even if meant he had to lie about Harris having not left the cell that night. However it had happened Harris must have killed someone and if he did Jerld would be his alibi.
Jerld awoke with a startle as two jail guards, he hadn‘t seen before, were unlocking his cell door. There were two men in business suits standing behind the guards and behind the two men stood a man and two women wearing white shirts with red crosses emblazon on the front pocket. Their sleeves also had a red emblem on them .with the letters E.M.T.
“Get him the hell out of the cell and place him in lockdown.” the older of the two suited men barked out, pointing at Jerld.
As he was grabbed by the guards his mind cleared and he saw the lifeless body of Harris still lying in the position that Jerld had placed him. The only change was now Harris looked almost white and what look like large spots of caked slobber were on his chin.

The mucous had ran down onto the bed creating a small oblong circle.
Jerld was hustled down the walkway and taken just outside the cellblock area. He was put into a small room that had only an old wooden table and three wooden chairs, other then that there was nothing. Jerld stood staring the door he had entered through, wondering where he was now and what was going to happen to him.
There was a brown painted metal door that allowed no light into the room except for what emitted from a small dim light fixture imbedded in the concrete ceiling.
The walls had been recently painted a beige color.
You could see through the top layer of paint several names, pictures and sayings that had been left by several previous visitors to this room.
As he read, one caught his eye it said; “Beware, Ball Player and his Bat are Killers.”
Jerld now remembered everything and he also remember Harris’s last words; “Remember this is a White Jail.”
Jerld held his ear to the brown metal door and if he breathed slowly and quietly he could hear outside of the room.
“Lock-down everyone in their cells” a voice commanded. The cell bars slid shut in every cell in the cellblock Jerld had just left.

There was a lot of loud talking and commotion down near the Day Room that he had just passed.
It seemed like several people had just entered into Day Room through the large green walkway door. Jerld was to far away to hear everything down the catwalk, so he just sat down on the floor, with his ear pressed tightly against the door and listened as best as he could.
Under the door he could see flashes of very bright light every so often and thought that someone must be taking pictures of something.
He heard the scraping of metal as if it was being drug across the floor and down the hallway, “Possible a cart of some sort,” Jerld thought to himself. As it passed the door he was leaning against, he heard a women’s voice say. “This son of a bitch is heavy can’t one of you guys give us a hand.”
The voice trailed off, as did the sound of the metal scrapping. Then it all became clear to Jerld that it was Harris being taken out of the cellblock.
Then he heard a strong deep voice say. “Same old bull #### as always, no one saw or heard anything.”
“I suppose this piece of shit must have just strangled himself.”
Then another voice said, “Now Gene, you’ve been through this before, you know if anyone tells you anything they will be joining this poor soul, in the big house in the sky.”

“Poor soul my ass, he probably got what he deserved,” the other voice responded.
“Well let’s go through the motions and see who we have as witnesses.” Starting at the first cell next to the Day Room Jerld could hear a couple of steps and then a voice asking the same three questions, this was repeated at each cell.
“Did you see anything? “a short pause. “Well what did you hear?” a short pause. “What is your name?” Then a grunt would be heard from the questioner and he would say,” Lets get to the next Liar. “Then rustling of feet and the questions would begin again.
After what seemed like hours to Jerld, the group of questioners could be heard approaching the end of the adjoining cellblock.
Then Jerld heard the male voice say: “Let’s go see that kid that was sharing the cell with the deceased, and see what bullshit he has to say.”
Jerld was sitting on the floor still listening when he heard and saw the door handle being turned. As he had done many times in his life he sprung to a standing position, purposely leaning against the wall with all of the lightly covered graffiti.
A large man who wore a green shirt and a tie, tied loosely around his neck, entered first.

Behind him stood the guard they called “the Ball Player” and next to him a large gray headed man, also wearing a dress shirt and a tie.
“Sheriff when the hell you going to get the lights fixed in this damn jail? Ya can’t see nothing in these god-damn cells.” Green shirt asked.
There was no doubt that he was talking to the overweight grayed haired man that had followed him in.
“When you State Police stop getting all them pay raises, maybe then there will be some tax money left over to build some decent jails.” The large man with the gray hair shot back.
“Just do your job, write your report and get back to your safe little office, so we can get back to doing real police work. It won’t matter what you put in that damn report, I’ll still get sued and it will of course be one of my jailers fault. You guys have no idea what goes on in these jails, but you’re supposed to be the experts.”
With that the Sheriff turned and walked off.
“Ball Player” said to the green shirt “Gene you know how the Sheriff feels about you guys coming in here and trying to take over, he just can’t get it through his head that cases like this need to be investigated by another police department.”

Green shirt nodded his head as if he understood and then turning back to face Jerld.
“Did you hear me? Who is in this nice looking young man,” he asked Ball Player.
Ball Player responded, “He is one of the two blacks from Gary that stole a car and tried to out run some of your boys and ours.”
“Harris was from Michigan City. Harris slept in the bottom bunk and Mitchell, this guy, pointing to Jerld, had the top bunk.”
Ball Player continued, Harris had been sick for several days and all he did was lay there as if he was depressed or something. I don‘t know what he could have been depressed about he has spent most of his life in one jail or another. He was use to being in lockup.”
“Gene you better tell everybody to be careful. He was spitting up a lot and he probably has “the Disease” if know what I mean, don’t touch him.”
“Had he been out of his cell in the last few days?” Green shirt asked.
“Not that I know of” Ball Player quickly answered.
“Now you son, had you or Harris been out of your cell in the last couple of hours?” Gene the green shirt asked Jerld.
“Come here when I am talking to you. Sit down,” he said pointing to the chair closest to Jerld.

Jerld slowly took the two steps to the chair and sat down, all the time thinking, be careful what you say. These guys are white and Harris always said, “Remember this jail is white.”
Jerld tried to look as cool as he could, but he was scared and thought that it was obvious to everyone.
“I wasn’t any place but in my cell. They pick me up last night and stuck me in with this guy Harris, where’d you think I’ve been?” Jerld scowled.
Jerld noticed that Ball Player had now lifted his big wooden club up to his shoulder and was spinning it as if his turn to bat had finally come and he was ready.
“Gene he ain’t involved, the one nigger was sick and you can see this kid is scared to death.” Ball Player offered.
“Yeah, whites outnumber blacks twenty too one in this jail, a black man would be crazy to thump on a white man.” Green shirt responded, looking at Jerld.
Jerld made eye contact and made a quick eye movement to the side as if he was pointing at Ball Player. Green shirt caught the eye movement and seemed puzzled at first then said to Ball Player:
“Run down and get me this guy’s book-in sheet.”

Ball Player hesitated and said: “Gene you know we aren’t supposed to leave the prisoners alone.”
Green shirt responded with “I said to get me his sheet, now knock off all the bullshit and get it.”
Ball Player took one last swipe with bat and pointed at Jerld saying. “You be good now, ya Hear,” and turned and walked out the door.
Green Shirt turned to Jerld an asked; “What do you know?”
Jerld reached over his shoulder and pointed to the lightly paint covered graffiti, that had been written on the wall by some other poor soul who at one time, had also occupied this room.
As he pointed to the writing on the wall, it seemed to jump off the wall. “Beware; Ball Player and his Bat are Killers.”
“I don’t know nothing, I didn’t see nothing and I sure as hell wouldn’t tell you if I did.” Jerld blurted out.
This was the exact phrase he had heard repeated as if it was an eco, time and time again, as this charade of a death investigation worked its way down the walkways of the first two cellblocks.
Jerld said it loud enough so everyone in the jail would hear him.
All the time he was tapping the wall where the accusation had been written.

Green shirt stood up just as Ball Player was entering the room and said in a robust voice.
“You’re just like all the other fuckers in this damn jail. I’m done wasting my time with you. Ball Player gets his ass out of here before I kick it.”
With his back still to Ball Player green shirt winked. Jerld now knew he had seen the message on the wall and understood Jerld’s charade.

This Jail is Black-Chapters 7 & 8

2007-09-09T17:30:00.000-07:00

Palm Springs Lofts

Chapter Seven: Dead Men Don’t Answer

Jerld and Jimmy had been doing pretty good corner business for the last couple of weeks. Since those white kids in the Kentucky car tried to rip them off they have been taking extra steps to see that they would live to spend at least some of the money they were making.
They dealt Ronnie K’s dope, and he was their man. He would supply and they would sell, and the money from the dope would be split sixty- forty with Ronnie K. getting the sixty split. This was an arrangement that was just fine with Jerld and Jimmy. It was his money that bankrolled the stash they sold, and he had maybe ten or twenty other dealers working the streets for him. J & J never questioned Ronnie K. about his supplier and he probably would quit doing business with them if they did.
If you become too inquisitive, you could turn out to be part of the black top covering Broadway. Many of the wiseass street dealers were found with tire tracks up their ass. When you deal dope you deal what you got and then get more. It don’t make a shit where it comes from, but it makes a big difference who gets the money and how much.
Today was one of the best dope selling days they had ever had. Jerld had already called Ronnie K. to have one of his runners run over more Smack, it seemed like everyone needed a quick vein run today.

Late in the afternoon Jimmy said: “Jerld that’s the last spoon we got. We’ll have to get a hold of the “Big K” again.”
Jerald went to the phone and to drop a dime on Big K’s number. There was no answer. After about thirty minutes he tried to call again with out any luck. They needed to restock their supply fast or they could loose some of their regular customers. They were out of Smack (Heroin) and had only a couple bindles of Girl (cocaine) left, and there still were a lot of arm poppers who were still looking to score some dope.
“Jimmy,” Jerld hollered; “We got to get some dope, let’s go to Ronnie K’s pad and pick some up.”
Ronnie K. occupied the first floor of an old building in what use to be the manager’s office for several double stacked apartments. These buildings had a bright future several years ago but now they were only a lot of leaking and rotting shacks, called the “Trails.” This was once one of the more modern government housing projects on the Southwest side of Gary.
The only problem with them was the contractor building them, and the government representative, who was hired to rent them out. They both got arrested for embezzling a large portion of the federal money that was to be used for the housing complex’s construction. The apartment complex never got completed so there it sat vacant for several years.

Like any vacant building in Gary it soon became a shooting gallery for all the arm shooters who had no other place to go to shoot up their dope. Once they had done the needle thing they also needed a place to crash and enjoy their journey into space. These trips could take anywhere from two hours to as much as half a day, depending on the amount and the quality of the heroin that they needled into their vein.
Ronnie K. seeing a dealers advantage in being near his users, decided to make one of the buildings his place of residence. He, the philanthropist that he was, would give them a place to rest and ride their rocket ship into oblivion.
Some of the buildings that were almost finished became dorms for his army of street kids. He and his privileged dope dealing friends used them to run their deliveries of dope and for bodyguards and killings if and when it became necessary.
Ronnie K. occupied the whole downstairs of a building that had been completed and used as a model and the office for the whole complex. This complex even had a guard shack at its entrance, which now was manned periodically by Ronnie K’s army. Ronnie K’s fortress served its purpose well. No one got in or out without him knowing it.
Jimmy and Jerld had never gone to Ronnie K’s fortress before.

The only time they ever saw Ronnie K. was when he showed up at their corner to check them out. He would first drive by and then would park a block or so down the street and watch their business for an hour or so. Then he would send one of his kids up to tell them Ronnie K. wanted to see them. Jerld and Jimmy both always went to meet him together, but Jerld would be asked to get into the back seat with Ronnie K and Jimmy would have to stand watch. That was okay with Jimmy he didn’t like Ronnie K. and always told Jerld that one day he was going to kill him and then he and Jerld would be the big suppliers. Jerld knew Jimmy well enough to know that if he told Jimmy to do it, it would be done or Jimmy would die trying.
When Jerld got into the car, Ronnie K. would ask Jerld to see all of his money and when Jerld pulled it out of his pocket, Ronnie would just tear off a few bills and give them to Jerld and say; “Here’s your forty percent.”
Jerld knew that he many times he had been shorted, but also knew there was absolutely nothing he could do about it, if he wanted to stay in the drug dealing business.
Ronnie K. would then smile and say you’re good “Boys” and nod for Jerld to get out of the car.
Jerld was glad that Jimmy didn’t hear him because if he would have, kid killer bodyguards or not Jimmy would have tried to shoot Ronnie K.
Jerld didn’t mind, he and Jimmy always “pinched the bags”, taking a little off the top of each bag of dope they got from Ronnie K., so it always turn out to their profit advantage no matter how much Ronnie K. shorted them.
They then would make up their own bags of dope to sell and that way no matter how much Ronnie K. gave them they would do all right. The only thing they had to worry about was their customers coming back on them complaining about the bag being short or diluted. Jimmy was their complaint department and one of two things always happened. Either they would apologize for being wrong about accusing Jerld and him of cutting the bags, or they would get the living shit kick and punched out of them, Jimmy’s specialty.
Most of their customers knew of Jimmy’s reputation and feared him, or they were those honky white kids from the adjoining counties who wouldn’t know or care if they had been shorted. Jerald and Jimmy always made sure that none of their customers knew who their supplier was, so they had almost a failsafe operation going.
Today was different not only did they need more dope quickly they also had a lot of cash on them that they needed to get to Ronnie K., soon.

Their first mistake was to walk into Ronnie K’s barricaded apartment building without calling first.
At the entrance they were met by a kid about ten or eleven years old toting an automatic rifle that had a clip of bullets hanging out its bottom. The clip looked like a big banana and as if it was hanging to the kid’s knees. It must have been twelve inches long. It was apparent to them this kid knew how to use it and it didn’t matter to him, on who.
Ronnie K. was no different then a lot of the higher level drug dealers. He had taught several preteen kids how to use these automatic weapons, and if a big drug deal was going down they would place three or four of these kid killers around the area telling them to shoot first and ask questions later.
Like they say, “What are cops going to do to a kid?” Juvenile Detention and then released to their Mommies was the normal procedure.
If they killed someone, the Juvenile center was a better place then what they had at home or on the streets anyway. Most of the kids knew the system and how to work it, if they in fact got caught. Smiles and tears worked in Lake County just as well as they did in every other county in Indiana.
Indiana’s child welfare had one goal and many of the courts agreed with it. “It is best to reunite the poor little kids with their families.” Anything else would be too traumatic on them.

People who were in the drug business knew that if they saw a couple of these kids with their “toys” it was best to turn around and go the other way, or they had better study the sidewalk very closely as they walked by.
If they didn’t, their brains could become new wall graffiti for the kids to brag about. Luckily Jerld and Jimmy knew this kid and he stopped short of making them into a lead strainer.
He turned to look down a long corridor and called out; “Mr. K., J & J are here, should I shoot them?”
It was asked in a manner that even sent cold chills down Jimmy’s back. It seemed several minutes before they heard.
“Not this time, tell them to go out into the playground and sit where I can see them.” J & J did not need to be told twice.
They did exactly what Ronnie K. said. You see, to Ronnie K. they meant nothing and they knew it.
To him they were just a couple of “Bag Boys” that carried out his bags and were tipped quiet well if they did a good job. If they didn’t, he would find someone else to deliver his bags. There was no job security or unions in the drug business. The retirement isn’t so bad; you get three hots and a cot in jail and you have all your bills taken care of, what else could you ask for or need? The alternative was a cold slab in the morgue.

Jimmy and Jerld straggled out to the old playground and found a couple of old broken swings to sit in. While they would slowly swing, the swing chains would rattle and the poles they were attached to would squeak like fingernails on a blackboard.
“Hey Jimmy, don’t look up, we are being watched by two old white farts in Sunday suits.” Jerld whispered. Jimmy let his eyes drift to the window he knew was Ronnie K.’s. apartment.
“Damn, they got guns pointed right at us,” he said.
“Don’t get up just keep cool and don’t put your hand into your pocket or we are dust.” Jerld cautioned.
They sat for at least forty-five minutes, when they saw three white guys come out the ground floor doorway. There were two in front and the tallest of the three and Ronnie K. were following in a close nit group. To the rear and to both sides were a total of six kids, rifles at the ready. The oldest appeared to be no more then twelve or thirteen. The group seemed to flow down the sidewalk like lava down a volcano, a white Lincoln Town Car pulled up in front and another “honky” stepped out of the driver’s door and opened the passenger side doors for the other three men.
After they had gotten in, Ronnie K. reached in and shook the taller one’s hand.

“Good doing business with you, call when you got more.” Ronnie K. suggested
He then turned and he along with his nursery school army started back up the sidewalk.
Ronnie K. turned toward Jerld and Jimmy, waved and said, “Hello gentlemen, give me a few minutes to settle up with my children. I will call for you.”
J & J had come over to Ronnie K.’s uninvited, because they needed some more cocaine and heroin. It had been cold and raining most of the week and then the day before yesterday the sun came out. It had warmed up to the fifties and yesterday it got up to sixty.
When the weather gets warmer, the streets begin to swarm with dope customers.
The white kids from the suburbs start doing what is known as parking lot sniffing, which leads to cocaine snorting. They get three or more kids together in some local hangout’s parking lot.
Then the glue, paint, or any other type of aerosol can that will fit into a bag will be brought out and the can and the kid’s faces will then share the insides of a brown paper bag. For some reason this is a “white kid” thing, blacks don’t do much “hair spray” sniffing.

After several hours of sniffing and getting high, some kid in the group will say, “I know where we can get the real thing.” Off they will come to Gary.
It’s not that there aren’t other places selling good dope, it’s because in Gary the price is always right.
If one corner doesn’t have what you want or what you can afford, keep looking, you’ll find some other corner that will.
The cops don’t bother the white kids much unless they cause trouble. Then Cops are all over them like stink on shit, with a “We don’t want your kind around here.”
For the last few days car after car was copping a dime or a quarter bag and the business was turning over J & J’s supply about every couple of hours. Normally they would call Ronnie K. from their corner phone booth when their stash was running out.
If they needed more, he would have one of his runners bring it over on a bicycle. Sometimes he and his gun toting army would be in a van, with an older big car following them for protection.
Everyone who dealt any large quantity knew Ronnie K.’s boys and they knew they would be sucking on the roots of daisies if they ripped them off or in anyway hindered his street business.

When J & J showed up at Ronnie K.’s place and saw the armed kids, they knew why they had not been able to reach Ronnie K. He also was out, or very short and he had been waiting on his load to come in. Now, that they knew who Ronnie K.”’s supplier was, it was only a matter of time until Ronnie’s Kids would be looking for them. If you don’t know you can’t tell, J & J knew too much.
After seeing who Ronnie K’s supplier, they both were thinking this was not a good idea. Jerld looked at Jimmy and then at the door where Ronnie K. had just went in. Heading their way down the hallway was a small figure with a gun.
Jerld and Jimmy weren’t afraid to stand up to this squat-assed punk, but where there was one they knew Ronnie K. could find twenty more just like him. Jimmy was the first to move, with Jerld right behind him. They dove under the broken teeter-totters, as the first bullet whizzed by.
It sounded like someone was playing a song on the four-inch steel pipe that supported the broken swings and other playground equipment. Pong, pong, pong, with each shot J & J tried to dig themselves further into the playground Graves.
Jerld was able to finally get his Beretta out and aimed and fired once at the small figure approaching them.

Flames were shooting out as the kid held the automatic handgun with both of his very small looking hands. The gun looked as big as he did and sounded like popcorn on a stove, pop, and pop, pop.
When the small figure heard Jerld’s shot and saw gravel fly up near his feet, and felt it striking his legs, his courage drained out of him and most of it went spurting down his tiny legs.
He turned, threw down his weapon and took off at a dead run down the street screaming; “Mommy, Mommy.
J & J didn’t stick around to see what his old lady looked like. They got up and booked. They ran a couple of blocks and then turned down an alley.
They thought they were safe for a few minutes so they stopped to catch their breaths and decide what to do next. Both knew they had to get lost quick.
The “Brat Gang” would be out looking for them by now and they would now have recruited some their “Big Brothers,” all of them having only one purpose. That was to find Jerld and Jimmy and take either their tongues or their lives, and it didn’t matter which. Their goal was to silence Jimmy and Jerld forever.
There were some loud voices down at the end of the alley and J & J thought that one voice they recognized belong to an old childhood friend.
He was now known by the street name of “Nads.”
He was called that because of his reputation of having a lot of “balls.”
For the last two or three years he was in bed with Ronnie K., which meant that for a few dollars from the K-Man, “Nads” would kill anyone.
Jerld whispered to Jimmy “Nads?”
Jimmy nodded his head.
With that nod they both knew that they had to get their asses out of Gary for a while, or they would be tomato splatters before breakfast. After some of the heat cooled and Ronnie K. had time to think it over, they would have a better chance of returning to their 25th Avenue street side office and possibility reconnecting with Ronnie K.
Jimmy had a driver’s license but had never owned a car. He never needed one. There was always a bus or a “few-dollar” friend that would take them any place for a couple of bucks. Jerld, on the other hand, had never gotten a driver’s license and he sure as hell wasn’t into walking any farther then he had to. He was too cool. Jerld could call any one of several ladies that he always had hanging and in a matter of minutes there would be one show up at his pad with a car, in hopes that tonight they could be Jerld’s arm piece.
The first thing Jerld would do was have them swing by Jimmy’s place and pick him up for a little protection and fun. Remember Jerld and Jimmy always shared everything.

The two of them walked out of the alley as if strolling to a movie and continued until they spotted a working phone booth on the corner of 4th and Marshall. Jerld ducked into the booth and Jimmy turned to face the street.
As always, he was there to cover Jerld’s backside. “Tuney” you have to come and get me right away, I am at 4th and Marshall, just pull up to the phone booth and Jimmy and I will meet you there.”
Jimmy listened as Jerld continued, “I need a few hundred and a clean car to use for a few days. No, you can’t come with me. Jimmy and me have some business to do. “
“Ronnie K., What did you tell him?” “That’s cool, see you in ten minutes.”
“Did you hear?” Tuney is coming and will have a few bucks for us.” Jerld said. Jimmy just shrugged and stared at the street. Tuney drove up in a dark green Lincoln Town Car and stopped a few yards away from the phone booth. She left the car running and swayed to the booth.
Jerld and Jimmy had been hiding just a few feet from where she had parked the car and they could see clearly into the back seat.
There crunched down was the shaved head of “Nads.” Tuney had tipped off Ronnie K. She had probably got a couple eight balls of “smack” for setting them up.

Jerld told Jimmy to stay where he was and he began to creep up to the Lincoln from the street side where neither Tuney or Nads could see him.
Jerld reached the car’s rear side window and Nads was looking out toward the phone booth and didn’t see Jerld put the gun up to the window. The last sound Nads ever heard was the glass breaking from the bullet heading straight for his shaved head. Jerld was surprised, that the shot only made a muffled popping noise.
Tuney turned and reached into her pocket and threw down a wad of folding money and turned and ran. Jerld waved to Jimmy to get in and drive and Jerld climbed into the back seat with his childhood friend’s body.
Jerld talked to the cadaver, all the time he was rifling his pockets. “Hey, Nads do you remember how we used to shoot marbles together?
Jerld would reach up and grab the bloody pulp of a head and shake it up and down. As if Nads was answering.
“Nads you son of a bitch we had some good times.” Again a headshake. “Nads I hope you understand this is just business.”
After Jerld had taken everything of value from Nads’ pocket he grabbed his hand and arm and pealed off his watch, putting it on his own wrist.

Then he gently set Nads up in an upright position and placed an old hat on his head, saying, “You look good Nads.” After all they were friends once.
“Jimmy, drive over by that fucking Ronnie K.’s pad.” Jimmy looked over his shoulder once and knew Jerld had changed in just the last few minutes.
Jimmy was his friend before, now he was his partner in murder, which had a lot more strings that went with it.
Jimmy would give his life for Jerld and at that moment he had decided that was going to be the way he died, protecting Jerld to his last suck of air.
“Jimmy, pull off in front of the sidewalk by the playground.” Jerld muttered.”
Jimmy did as he was told. He felt strange. He knew he should be afraid, they had just killed Nads, who was one of Ronnie K.’s most feared enforcers.
Jimmy’s right leg would always quiver when he got nervous, but now it was as still as his breathing.
Jerld got out of the back seat dragging Nads body feet first. The only light now was that of the moon and Jimmy watched as Jerld dragged their old school chum Nads to the teeter-totters, he laid him face up and out flat with both arms dangling to either side of the teeter boards.

He then took Nads’ gun, a 44 magnum, and shoved it into Nads” mouth so far it stood straight up lodged in his throat.
Jimmy looked on in disbelief as Jerld turned around dropped his pants and sat on Nads’ chest. From the sounds that were coming from Jerld’s ass there was no doubt that Jerld had just had a most gratifying nervous shit. The kind that splatters the entire insides of the stool. Jimmy watched as Jerld took one of Nads’ arms and straddling it used it for his toilette paper.

Chapter Eight: This Isn’t Gary

Jerld strutted back to the Lincoln and got in and said; “Head for 65.” Running through the east side of Gary was a new ribbon of concrete called Interstate 65, it ran straight to where they wanted to go, and that was anywhere away from of here.
Jimmy had been driving for about forty minutes or so, when he looked up in the rear view mirror and saw a couple of headlights following him pretty close. Jimmy slowed down and then the car behind him slowed.
Jimmy woke up Jerld, who had just dozed off a few minutes ago, and said: “Jerld we got someone following us, do you think it is Ronnie K.?”
Jerld looked over the seat and could only see two very bright headlights shining in the back window, but he could tell that it was a very big sedan of some type.
“Slow way down and let see what they do,” Jerld grumbled. Jimmy slowed and the car behind did too.
“Kick it in the Ass” Jerld said striking Jimmy’s shoulder.
Jimmy floored the gas pedal and the car jolted ahead as if it was a baseball struck by Mickey Mantle’s bat. Looking at the speedometer, it jumped from fifty to 90 miles per hour instantly.

The car behind, as if joined by a rubber band, caught up to the Lincoln Town Car in a matter of seconds.
Jimmy and Jerld were getting a little uptight to say the least. They had no idea how many “Brothers” Ronnie K. had with him and J & J had only one “piece” between them. Jerld cursed himself when he thought of how stupid he was to go back and piss Ronnie K. off, and besides that leave a gun they could make use of now.
Jerld had just leaned over the seat with his Beretta aimed at the closely following car, he was starting to squeeze the trigger when suddenly he was blinded by the intense lights that entered through the back window of the Lincoln. Then he could see the red flashing lights on the top of the following car.
“Fuck,” Jimmy screamed, “It’s the man; it’s a God damn pig.”
“What should I do what should I do Jerld?” Jimmy asked.
Jerld thought for a minute and said “Take the next exit and turn onto a side road, then we will bail.”
Jimmy could see a green sign ahead and it looked like it said, Rensselaer Exit 2 miles. Jimmy gunned the car and rapidly pulled away from the flashing lights, he hit the exit at over 80 miles per hour and almost rolled the car as he turned to the right at the top of the exit ramp.

The flashing lights were still behind and now he could see another cop car coming straight towards him and there was no doubt this cop had made up his mind that Jimmy and the Lincoln was not going to get by him.
Jimmy turned sharply onto a frontage road and as he did he could see the car coming straight at him was a brown and cream colored sheriff’s car.
This cop was crazy he pulled up along side of the Town Car and began ramming them. It was as if they were both just in those little bumper cars, that Jimmy had once driven at a fair when he was a kid. The second ram took Jimmy by surprise and was too much for him to compensate for, Jimmy lost control of the car and it went into a ditch. Spewing both Jimmy and Jerld out as it rolled over the second time.
Jerld was dazed and started to get up but he felt a sharp pain in his chest. It was the barrel of a shotgun that some brown shirted cop was trying to skewer him with.
He looked to the left and he could see that Jimmy was laid out flat on his stomach and a state cop also had a shotgun pressed against Jimmy’s head and had his foot up Jimmy’s ass, holding him down. Jimmy lay as still as if he was paralyzed.
Jerld had never heard so much racket in his life.
One cop was screaming to the other. “Be careful, this one got a gun.” \
The sirens were blaring and you could hear the police car radios squawking. It seemed like a thousand lights had congregated in this one spot for no other reason then to blind Jerld, which they were doing.
Cops were appearing out of nowhere and each one felt that they had to come over and shake or foot nudge Jimmy or Jerld and say, “That will teach your black ass not to leave Gary. You’ll soon find out, this isn’t Gary”
Jerld had lived nineteen years without ever having any run-ins with “The Man.” Except being rousted by the Gary narcotics cops, but right now it seemed like cops were all around him and Jimmy. He couldn’t see Jimmy any more, but he could hear him cussing the cops.
Every so often he would hear a dull thud, as if someone had smashed a pumpkin with his foot. Then you could hear Jimmy catch his breath and it would start all over again. He finally was able to turn his head enough to see a couple of State Pigs dragging Jimmy to a squad car.
All of a sudden Jerld felt like his wrists were being torn off. He was being yanked to his feet by a couple of Sheriff’s Deputies. His arms were being pulled straight up and backwards and the handcuffs were being twisted.
This made his wrists feel like they were caught in a huge vise and were being hack sawed from his arms.

He heard a voice laugh and say, “This burr head is going to be sorry he came to Jasper County.”
When he heard this, Jerld made up his mind he wasn’t going to scream no matter what they did to him.
He would show these fucking “Honkys” what a “Street Nigger” from Gary was made of, he was black and proud.
He hated “The Man” and he wasn’t going to let them know they could hurt him. “Fuck them,” he thought, I can take whatever they give out, and he did.
Riding in the caged-in back-seat of the county cop’s car he was able to see that there were several “Pig” cars in front leading the way, also from the rear, pulsating red lights could be seen alternately flashing through interior of the car he occupied. Jerld wondered where Jimmy was, and if they were being taken to the same place. He knew that Jimmy would be worried and become scared if he was not able to see that Jerld was “OK”.
The ride to the jail was short and all Jerld was able to see out of the windows were those damn flashing lights and what look like nothing but open ground reaching out as far as he could see.
No lights no buildings and most of all, no other black faces.

It was only a few minutes before Jerld could see the lights of a small town and then buildings began to appear alongside of the road. Then he was looking at this big iron corrugated door rolling up in front of the police car. When it clanged to the top and stopped Jerld could see two “State Pigs” pulling Jimmy from the back seat of a police car that was already inside what looked like an oversized garage.
Jimmy was fighting, kicking and screaming, “Where’s J, where’s J, I’ll waste your white asses if he’s hurt. Do you hear me I’ll kill you Mother-Fuckers if he is hurt.”
Just then Jimmy looked up and could see Jerld’s face looking out of the car’s rear side window.
Jimmy smiled just as he was hit on the side of his head, blood splattered all over the “Pigs,” uniforms and on the cream colored garage walls. Jimmy had left his mark.
The flying blood smacked the wall and then started its slow decent down towards the floor, as if were being spread by a painter’s brush. Jerld looked at it and to him it looked like it had formed two side-by-side Js.
He and Jimmy were to be the newest guests in Jasper County’s Round Bar Hotel and as usual Jerld and Jimmy did everything together.

This Jail is Black- Chapters 4, 5 & 6

2007-09-02T16:53:00.000-07:00

Palm Springs Lofts

Chapter Four: It’s a Way of Life
Warning-----The next three chapters are very expilict and contain very descriptive sexual behavior.

It was the start of the 70s, and Gary was a dying city. The downtown looked like a bomb had been dropped in the center, leaving nothing but abandoned and boarded up storefronts on its main street, Broadway. Most of the side streets were full of abandoned and dilapidated shells of older homes, some of which in their day, were considered to be very nice. Rundown and rotting homes were all that stood on many of the blocks on Gary’s east side. There was no heat and electricity in most of them and some were still occupied by the homeless along with rats, cats and wild dogs, of which there were many.
Litter, garbage and wrecked cars were the only lawn decorations of these dilapidated homes. Sunlight only penetrated the soot filled air when there was an opening caused by the wind. This soot, from the steel mills, blanketed the sky and everything else.
Several steel mills had congregated over the years at the north end of all of Gary’s north and south streets. Their backsides butted up to Lake Michigan’s southern shore, as if it fortified them against an attack. The lake served as their moat, covering any rear approach to these steel castles. The biggest steel mill was thought of as being a mother to many of Gary’s residents, holding out her arms to welcome anyone who needed a job.

That wasn’t the case now, the mills cut back on employment and with that, so went Gary’s economy.
The Big Mill, as it was called, now became the “bitch” that had screwed thousands. But it still was profitable enough to buy the big bosses, big cars and $300 suits.
When the jobs left, so did the “whites,” along with many of the black families’ hopes for a comfortable future. With no money or work, the corner hangouts became the homes of many of Gary’s young Turks. Before the steel mill layoffs started many of them had made good money working there or for one of the mill’s suppliers. As with any group, their strength was in their numbers and blacks outnumbered whites by a hundred to one in the downtown section of Gary. These black groups became gangs and the gangs continued to merge until there was only one gang left with any real power. It was called the Family Street Gang. It controlled most of Gary, especially the downtown area, known as the “District”.
This they did this with numerous killings and street terrorism. They killed storeowners who would not pay them protection money. They killed unsuspecting outsiders who came into Gary for personal reasons. They killed little old ladies that tried to stand up to them, and they even killed a Federal Drug Enforcement officer. Worst of all they killed Gary’s reputation.

The streets of Gary became the killing fields of the U.S. The Family Street Gang became the ruler of the streets. The police, not by choice, gave them full run of the city.
The cops were grossly outnumbered and there were even rumors that the Police Chief, their boss, was on the “Family’s” payroll.
This was never proven, but it was easy to see that the cops were not controlling the streets any longer. They were ineffective and at times had their hands tied for various political reasons.
If you went against the will of The Family you died it was as simple as that.
No one wanted to admit it but the Family had intimidated and corrupted many of the city’s officials and some of its leading citizens. The Family brought nationwide attention to the city when they had a shootout on the steps of the police station. This also got the attention of Federal Bureau of Investigation and the Bureau of Narcotics and Dangerous Drugs, (the name Drug Enforcement Agency was known by at that time.) The Family’s reputation was well deserved. Their killings became a rope around Gary’s neck, slowly strangling its growth and any hopes of a bright future.
Jimmy and Jerld grew up and grew up fast, they were seeing relatives and friends die.

The street talk was that Jerld’s real father had been shot by a member of The Family over a dope deal.
His mom only would say, “Your daddy is dead and that is all you need to know.” Through their mothers’ constant watch and with a lot of luck, they made it up to the ninth grade without being arrested or becoming a member of any gang.
Most all of their friends belonged to a gang of some sort or another, and a few were even making money as dope runners for The Family.
After all, who would do anything to a little black kid if he did get caught? The courts at that time were known for reuniting the kids with their families as soon as possible. The drug dealers knew this, using it as a recruiting tool to get kids to deal drugs for them.
Many a street kid was turned into a drug dealer with a one hundred dollar bill and “You’re a kid they ain’t doing anything with ya if you get caught.” Many times this same pitch and payoff was used on a kid’s parents to get them to let their kid become a street drug runner and or pusher.
One day while looking out the school window Jerld, Jimmy and their classmates saw Thomas Ray, the school’s biggest dope peddler, drive up in his sparkling, red Nova convertible. It wasn’t new but it was highly polished and the matching leather seats beckoned to be filled.

To the kids from the projects it was as if their idol had just arrived and was there to whisk them all away to a land of fast cars and pretty women. The car was like a magnet and the prettiest girls in school began flocking around him and his “Pussy Bait” ride.
You could hear a slow murmur start within the classroom, gradually getting louder: “There’s Thomas Ray,” Look at that car,” “He paid two thousand dollars cash for it,” “Look at Jay-Ann she’s all over him,” “Shit, I wish I was him,”
Then all of a sudden Mr. Boysen, their teacher bellowed in a voice that carried out to the parking lot. “That young man out there has nothing but jail to look forward too, if you want to be like him, that’s where you will also end up.” He knew what everyone in the class was thinking. At one time he had been in the same place as them and having the same dreams. “Jerld pull that shade down,” he commanded.
Jerald did what he was told; as he walked towards the window he started to think of what it would be like to be Thomas Ray.
Thomas Ray looked up at the school window and seeing Jerld waved. It was not a wave from one friend to another it was a wave that displayed contempt and pity for Jerald and all of the other suckers who were wasting there time in the classroom.

Thomas Ray had been considered a real loser during his junior high years he was always shabbily dressed and was nothing more then a tag along, following the other boys in his class, hoping to be liked. After watching the girls clambering around Thomas outside the school, Jerld pulled the shade and returned to his desk.
Jerld turned and looked at Jimmy, they didn’t have to say a word, they both decided right then and there that going to school wouldn’t get them enough coin for the things they wanted to buy and do.
With a nod of their heads a decision was made that would forever change their lives. They wanted a nice car and all the “Cunts” that went with it.
They both got up, nodding to Mr. Boysen, walked out the classroom and straight to their lockers.
As they left most of their classmates smiled an envious grin and just shook their heads.
Jerld and Jimmy traded their books to a locker-dealer for a “joint” of marijuana, lit up, and walked out of the school laughing, jiving, and posturing for everyone to see.
Each knew this would be the last time they would ever be inside this school.

Their schooling would now take place on the streets of Gary, and their teachers would be its drug pushers, pimps and whores. They turned, smiled big grins, and raising their hands as high as they could, and high-fived. They were sliding into the “Pit,” but they were young and didn’t know or care.

Chapter Five: The Central District
Jimmy and Jerld had always shared everything, even their first piece of tail. They still laugh and elbow each other every time they see a robin.
It was about eight years ago, when Jerld was twelve and Jimmy’s twelfth birthday was just around the corner. Jerld had been working down at the local produce stand a few hours a day for about three months.
Jerald wanted to contribute to the household expenses and enjoyed sharing the money he had with his sisters and mom.
Every since he was old enough to walk he hustle money on the street, but now he was twelve and thought he needed to find a job with some steady money. There was a vegetable stand only a couple blocks from his school so one day after school he stopped in.
The first thing he noticed was the even though there were a couple black older men working at the stand neither one looked up and said a word to him. Their faces wore only a blank and beaten look.
The older one of the two was cutting up celery and his shoes and apron were soaking wet from the celery and his hands had a shriveled look to them.
Jerld walked around several boxes of stacked celery and walked up to the side of the old man, standing at his elbow.

The celery cutter just kept on cutting and acted if Jerld was not even there.
Jerld in his most polite voice asked; “Who do I see for a job? The celery cutter was not much taller then Jerld, but he outweighed him by at least a hundred pounds.
The old man swirled around bringing the large black handled knife up to Jerld’s nose and said; “You get out here boy, you don’t want a job here. Ya hear me?”
Jerld was startled and stepped back quickly. Just then out of the corner of his eye he saw another man approaching. He and the celery cutter must have seen the other man at the same time. The celery cutter tuned away from Jerld and continued to cut as if he hadn’t even seen Jerld.
“Boy, don’t bother the help.” Jerld heard as he was turning to look at the newcomer. “Get out of here unless you want to buy something,” the fat white man said, as he spit on the floor in front of Jerld’s shoe.
Jerld slowly raised his eyes up from looking at the spot where the fat man had spit. Instantly Jerld did not like this honky, but he calmly said; “I’m looking for work, can I do something for you? “
The fat man looked Jerld up and down and said “Boy get out of my store, I don’t want some kid nigger working here and stealing all my profit.”

Jerld would live to regret what he did next. He grabbed a dirty rag that was sitting on one of the celery boxes and bent down and wipe up the spit on the floor.
He then stood up and said “Thank you for your time” and turned to walk away.
Jerld could see a befuddled look on the fat mans face as blubbered out; “Oh shit kid grab a mop and do the rest of the floor.”
Jerld scrubbed until the other two old black men started to leave. Not knowing what to do, he went to the fat man’s office and stood in the doorway not knowing if he should enter or not.
The fat man was bent over filling out some paper work and without looking up he asked; “When can you work?”
Jerld responded; “After school and Saturdays”
The fat man said: as he pushed a blank piece of paper across his cluttered desk. “Fill this out and get the fuck out of my office. You’ll work when I need you after school and my name is Mr. Wallace,” emphasizing the Mr.
As Jerld left he felt mixed emotions, he was glad he gotten a job, but wished that he had not even came into this smelly vegetable stand.

Jerld hated the work, it was hard work, unloading semi-trucks full of crated vegetables, then having to stack them eight high.
Back then; Jerld was only a hair over five feet tall. His arms and back would throb after the two or three hours of work. The white guy that owned the stand, Mr. Wallace, was a real asshole.
Dressed in his dirty white apron and a large stogie sticking out of his mouth, Wallace would start hollering orders to Jerld the minute he came in to work. Nothing Jerld did was fast enough or good enough to please him.
He would usually start by complaining about the time Jerld got there, or how he was dressed and anything else he could find that he didn’t like. If Jerld complained he would tell him that he didn’t need him and sometime would then send him home. If he came in a few minutes late he would dock Jerld a few dollars pay.
What Jerld disliked most of all was that Wallace called Jerld and the other two blacks that worked there “Boy.”
Jerld hated that more then anything else Wallace would say or do. He made up his mind that someday he would knock Mr. Wallace on his big fat ass for calling him that. jerld made a note in his mind every time he was called “Boy”. He would tell himself, “He’ll get one in the chops for that one or that deserves a kick in the nuts.”

It didn’t do any good to argue. If he did, old lard ass, as the other workers called him, would tell him there was only enough work for two days the next week and that meant Jerld would lose an afternoon’s work. Jerld learned fast.
If Wallace fucked with him he could tell his sister’s boyfriend “Kopper” about it and the next day a couple of crates of the best veggies would come up missing from the loading dock.
The next evening, his sister would come home with a lot of fresh vegetables for supper. “Kopper” wasn’t a gang member he took care of his own “business,” when it came to the streets. Everyone liked and respected him. If you were black he was always there for you. Jerld would never steal anything himself, he just could not lie to his mother so it was just easier not to steal.
Jerld had made up his mind he could put up with anything, because of the goal he had set for himself.
With the money he was paid he was going to see that his buddy Jimmy would have a real birthday party this year, one that he would always remember.
They were going to both get their “balls busted” in the best whorehouse in Gary, and Jerld was going to pay for it with the money he had earned.

In the few months that Jerld had worked, he was only able save up thirty dollars. He was paid three-fifty an hour and could have saved more, but his mother and sister also needed a few things. Jerld was proud that he could provide some of his money to help buy things needed around the house; after all, he was the “man” of the house.
Like most families who lived in the projects both Jerld and Jimmy’s families were on government assistance. Even with the welfare check they were only barely able to get by, so Jerld, his mother and sister took odd jobs so they could eat and pay for the other necessary living expenses.
When the two Js were together they always talked about the good times they had. The one time both will always remember is the day him and Jimmy got their first “Lay.”
Jerld had been planning this day for many months.
He had went by to get Jimmy at his crib and he knew just where they would go, Jimmy didn’t, and as usual he didn’t ask, he trusted Jerld. With hurried steps Jimmy had to hustle to stay up with his friend.
Jerld had an unusual spring in his hurried walk and Jimmy noticed this and said, “Were going to have fun today aren’t we Jerld?” Jerld just smiled.

He and Jimmy had been to the red light district of Gary many times before to visit Jimmy’s momma and to hustle drunks for change. They would catch a ride going downtown and then they would walk over to Washington Street where all the whores and the bars were. They knew the streets and knew most all of the whores by their street names. To them, The Central District, as it was called, was like a second home to them.
Everyone there was just like one of your neighbors going or coming from work or shopping.
As they walked down the streets the prostitutes and their pimps would wave and call out; “You young studs stay out of the bars today” or “What ya looking for today, some poo-tang?”
Jerld smiled and wanted to yell back; “Sure are, were going to see the twins,” but he kept quiet he didn’t want to spoil Jimmy’s surprise.
The same whores worked the streets of Gary every day. If they weren’t walking the streets or in some bar hustling they were either in jail or laid up sick someplace.
None of them had real names and if they did they were never used or mentioned on the streets.
Each whore would make up and use a name that they thought was good for business.

Cutesy names like Bobby-Ray, Lilly, Shereese or any other name that was easy for a drunk to say. Many times a name would just be given to one of them because of an outstanding trait that was readily visible.
There was this very short, young, well-built girl, around fifteen or sixteen named Punkin. She had breasts the size of two “Yo-Yos” and just about as flat. Her waist was about the size of a wedding band and she had hips that were only a little larger. Then there were her legs. Her legs were perfectly formed and inviting to look at and to want to taste.
Jimmy had described them the best. “If Punkin was a Popsicle you would even want to lick them sticks.”
Jerld and Jimmy liked Punkin she was always nice to them and would take the time to talk with them. She didn’t drink the watered down drinks that were served in most of the whore bars along Washington Street, she only drank pop and would always share it with them.
If she had a real good night going turning “tricks” she would take both of them to the hotdog stand on Broadway and treat to hot dogs. Jerld and Jimmy would always remember her as they got older. Whenever her name came up they would laugh and wonder out loud where her lips had been before she offered them a drink from the bottle of pop she had been sucking on.

Then there was Mary, the Mulatto, she was old, and J &J decided she probably was at least thirty. She looked like she was half asleep all the time. She had her own place, an old brown fake brick sided two-story house with a broken down front white-railed porch. She would sit out on the porch and hustle the drunks to come “Taste her Wares.”
When Jimmy and Jerld would walk past her place, she would holler, “You boys get home, you don’t belong up here.” Mary had seen her better days and was in fact in her late fifties.
Her “Wares” had settled a lot over the years and would have met in the middle if not for her stomach coming in between.
She did her business at home because it was the only way that she could support her family. She didn’t like bar hustling and thought it to be too dangerous. It was said that her oldest son always sat at the front window with a shotgun watching out for his momma. He had never been seen but the curtains would every so often wave as if being parted ever so slightly.
Jerld and Jimmy would start to run if they saw the curtains start to move. They didn’t like “ Mulatto Mary” or her unknown bodyguard.
Each time they passed Jimmy would look at Jerld and say “I wouldn’t screw her with your pole” and off they would run laughing hysterically.

If they looked back at “Mulatto Mary,” she also seemed to be laughing, as she turned and talked to the curtains.
The whore they called “Chicago” was good looking and stacked. She was blond about six feet tall and had “Bow Tie Figure” the kind you would like to tie up and pull at both ends. She was known as a “Specialist” if it was kinky or rough sex she was your girl.
Her dress was the same everyday; she would wear the same clothes, a see-through white blouse, exposing her quarter size nipples, and white shorts exposing most of her ass. The buttons on the blouse and the top snap on her shorts were always dirty.
The two boys would look at her and one or the other would comment, “Why doesn’t she ever wash them?” Little did they know she did wash them every day, and twice a day when business was good. The other whores didn’t like Chicago. She always talked about all the money she made when she worked Chicago’s Gold Coast. The other prostitutes would just smile and tell her to go back if it was so good.
“Chicago” now was a Gary street whore and would never go back to Chicago, let alone work the Gold Coast. It was questionable whether she had ever worked there to begin with.
Then there was one everyone called “Tiny Tits,” because they were.

She was small, no taller then Jerld, and all of her other features were also tiny. She was known for her childlike looks and personality. She was good at what she did, looking like a little girl. It was all just a put on for her customers who like to have sex with little young looking girls. She played the part to the hilt, at times you would find her standing on a corner or outside a bar, sucking and licking on a large Lollypop. Her business was brisk and very profitable. She was actually in her forties, but her customers didn’t care as long as she looked and played the part.
Then there was Candy; she claimed to be the best “Sucker” in town. Her specialty was a “Head Job.” She was a light skinned black who always wore a skin tight knit dress that showed everything she had.
Her breast and ass were displayed as if she was a painter’s model draped only in a sheet for an artist to paint. Men like what they saw and Candy knew it.
To her it was all there waiting to be finger painted or sculptured or just enjoyed by anyone who had the money.
Jerld and Jimmy both admitted to having had wet dreams about Candy and freely talked about them with her and among their friends.
When Jimmy and Jerld would brag to Candy “You and I had a great time last night.”

She would just smile and flash a little more skin and walk away swinging her beautiful ass.
Many years later J & J found out why she only gave “Head Jobs.” She was a “He-She,” a male who acted and dressed like a girl, but still had all the male plumbing.
During the good times, when there was lots of work, the steel workers would all visit the bars along Washington Street, before and after shift change. If they wanted a little action or just wanted some company while they drank their beers and shots, the ladies were always nearby.
The “Street Ladies” could always be found hanging out at any of taverns from Forth Street on south to Thirteenth Street. When they were looking to turn a few tricks, or make a few bucks to drink with, it was fairly easy for them to do.
It also wasn’t any problem for them to find a drug dealer to sell them a little “Smack” (heroin) if they needed it to make their evening’s work a little more tolerable.
Jimmy’s mother worked at one of Washington Streets biggest whore hangouts.
Jimmy’s mother was a short stocky woman just like Jimmy.

She was now in her late forties and still had a decent figure for a woman who was a little overweight. She seemed to stay pretty busy for someone who was poorly dressed and not too good looking. Jerld had noticed that most of her business was with the locals who were not flushed with cash. Like everyone else she had to make a living, it was her way of life and it supported her family.
She was like a second mom to Jerld, as was Jerld’s mom to Jimmy. They fretted and worried about them just like mothers do all over the world. They both had high hopes for the boys to grow up and be something, but down deep they knew that on the streets of Gary that was a very slim possibility.
Jimmy would claim his mother wasn’t a whore, but they both knew better. Washington Street and the other streets just west of Broadway were a great place for kids to go and hustle dimes from the drunks. At the one end of the bar where Jimmy’s mother worked, there was a half wall and behind that a door leading into an old hotel.
The boys peeping through the windows into the bar could see men, one after the other, go to that half partition, stand for a second or two, and then they would disappear through that doorway.

If you wanted a piece of ass you went and stood behind the half wall, the bartender pressed a buzzer under the bar and the door would open to let you enter the hotel of pleasure.
One night Jerld and Jimmy sat on the curb looking into the bar and counted for two hours, there had been fifty-one men buzzed into this mysterious door. Jerld and Jimmy were pretty sure of what went on behind the door, but they were never allowed to go inside to find out. Jimmy would ask his mama and she would only say “Its business and not yours.”
The next streets west were Jefferson and then Adams, both streets parroted Washington Street, but they didn’t have as many bars. But there were a lot of whore houses. Jefferson Street was famous for “The Twins.” They were supposed to be identical twins prostitutes with dyed blond hair. Everyone who had gone there would rave about how beautiful “The Twins” were. It was said if you were going to screw one you had to do both of them. They liked three-sies.
Jerld had heard some of the older “Brothers” say that the best whorehouse was a place called Mary Jenkins Motel. They had girls of every color, white, black, yellow, red and brown. The M & J Motel, as it was called, was alleged to be paying off the cops to operate and it was probably true.

Deputy Sheriffs, who were paid on the “cuff,” guarded the parking lot and would be directing the traffic into and out of the M & J parking lot on busy weekends.
The M & J was on Jennings Street, several blocks southwest of Gary’s downtown, in an area referred to as Small Farms Area.
This area was bordered by a section of the county known as Black Oak. Unless you were going to the Chicken Shack, another well-known hangout, or to the M&J Motel you didn’t stray into Black Oak. If you weren’t a hillbilly from Kentucky, Tennessee or Alabama you knew better then to stay after dark. If you were black you never went Black Oak period.
At their age, it was impossible for Jerld and Jimmy to get to, or in the M & J. So “The Twins” would have to do and they would have to do a four-sie, because Jerld and Jimmy shared everything.
Years before the M & J was alleged to have been run by the crime syndicate, and Thomas M., who was the boss of bosses in Gary‘s crime syndicate. This was in the nineteen-fifties well before the “Family Street Gang” had come to power. Thomas ran his little empire out of a pizza shop on South Broadway. And from there he controlled the gambling, the whorehouses, and everything else that was crooked in and around Lake County.

Just like in the movies, he had friends and associates with names like; Hooknose, Joey G., Eddie B., Sammy A., and Freddie M.
Then there was Sonny, Tommy M.’s black associate, a well-dressed crook everyone knew. If something needed to be done in the black sections of Lake County Sonny was the man to take care of it.
The mobs control was so great that if you wanted to make pizzas you bought your dough from Thomas, at inflated prices, or paid his group fifty cents for each pizza you made yourself and sold.
If you didn’t, first you would have a late night visit and your shop’s windows would be shot out. If that were not a good enough sales technique, the next time a fire would start in your pizza oven.
If they liked you, only your business would burn. If they didn’t, you might be found inside a pizza oven.
Blacks didn’t mess with Tommy M. and his gang, but a few times a week you would see at least two of Tommy’s men driving around in a big car visiting several of the bars, smoke shops, stores and dry cleaners or any place that was frequented by blacks in that neighborhood. The car would double park and two thugs dressed in expensive looking suits would get out and enter the business carrying a bank deposit bag.

Their visit would only take a few minutes and out they would come carrying a brown lunch size paper sack. Looking both ways as if something or someone might approach them they then would return to their car.
If you followed them for the day this would be repeated several times just about every business located in the black sections of Gary would get a visit.
As a young kid this was still going on and Jerld had asked “Kopper” one time why these white men were in the neighborhood.
“Kopper” replied with a double up fist in front of Jerld’s face. “Stay out of that, unless you want to lose your “dick” or get killed.” Jerld took “Kopper’s” advice and never asked that question again.
It was said in the clubs and bars in Gary that someday Thomas and the mayor would end up in jail together. That didn’t happen, Thomas got deported and only the mayor went to jail. It was suspected that everyone had to pay juice to the cops for protection or they couldn’t operate. If you were a straight cop, you looked the other way, if not you held out your hand and there was always someone there to stick a few dollars into it.

Chapter six: The Boys Get Laid
When Jerld and Jimmy got to Washington Street, Jimmy headed straight for the bar to see his momma. Jerld grabbed his arm and led him in another direction, Jimmy just followed as usual. They had walked down Jefferson Street for several blocks and Jimmy knew something was going to be different about today. He could see a slight smile on Jerld’s face and it seemed like he was walking a little faster then he usually did. They stopped at a corner and Jimmy realized that they had been here one time before. It was about three of four months ago. Jerld had said he wanted to check out where a house was, he didn’t say why. Jimmy wondered why, but knew that if Jerld wanted him to know, he would tell him.
At a corner on Jefferson Jerld stopped and nodded to Jimmy to look up. There sat a ram-shackled old two-story building that at one time, many years ago, would have been considered one of the nicer homes on the Westside. It had a white set of stairs that went up the back to the second story, where there was a small balcony. The stairs were broken and some were missing and on the dilapidated balcony there were garbage bags stacked higher then the white railing surrounding it.
A large cat and two of the biggest rats J&J had ever seen seemed to be playing hide and seek among the bags.

They stood for a minute looking at the house and Jerld and said, “Happy Birthday Jimmy lets go get your present.”
Jimmy didn’t understand, what was his birthday present? The only thing he had ever gotten before for his birthday, were cards from his aunts and uncles.
Sometimes there would be a dollar in them but his momma would always take it saying she would “Tuck it away for him.”
His momma never even wishes him a Happy Birthday any more. She was too busy to fool with such silly stuff.
Jimmy still didn’t move until Jerld said, “The Twins,” Jimmy, “The Twins,” You and me are going to get laid by the twins. I got thirty dollars.”
Jimmy smiled, the biggest smile Jerld had ever seen and said, “I don’t know how.”
“Neither do I, but we are gonna learn.” Jerld responded. “I was told that you have to go up those stairs and knock four times,” Jerld said: “Let’s Go.” Cautiously they walked across the street and around to the back.
At the bottom of the steps Jimmy grabbed Jerld’s arm and stopped. “I can’t do it alone,” he said.

Jerld smiled “We won’t have to, the twins like to do three-sies, and so we will just tell them that we want to do it four-sies if they want the thirty dollars. You can take one of the twins and I will have the other and we can do it at the same time.”
Jimmy smiled; he and Jerld did everything together.
They raced up the steps laughing. At the top of the steps was an old door that had the window ply wooded up. It had a spot in the middle and a little to the right that was almost worn through. Jerld knocked four times on that spot, he could hear and feel Jimmy’s breath on the back of his neck.
“Who the fuck is that pounding on my door?” A deep male voice roared. Jimmy turned to run and Jerld grabbed him. Jerld knock four times again.
The door flew open and the biggest and meanest man they hand ever seen blocked the doorway. His face was scarred as if he had been a boxer at one time. He was baldheaded except for a little bit of hair that was combed to one side. It looked like several thinly placed black straws that he had glued to his head to cover up the bald dome.
Deep set menacing eyes looked out from under the two ragged eyebrows.
He was black, but then he again also could have been white.

His skin in spots look like someone had cut off the top layer leaving the second pinkish white layer exposed. If he had teeth you couldn’t tell because he just sneered with lips that sagged down on both sides of his nose. The nose resembled a white and brown potato perched in the middle of his face and all this was held up by several rolls of crud-encrusted fat that should have been where his neck was. All you could see of his body was a huge bloated belly. He had on a neck less undershirt and dirty white under shorts.
“What the Fuck do you kids want?” He asked.
Jerld stood up his full five feet and said, “We’re here to see “The Twins.”
“How old are you kids, I bet you aren’t even eleven yet.”
Jerld smiled and said we are twelve and today’s is his birthday,” pointing at Jimmy. “I’ve saved up thirty dollars and we will pay it all for a screw with ‘The Twins.”
The big man laughed and showed a mouth full of yellow teeth.
“The Twins don’t work during the day and they don’t screw kids.” He growled.
Just then they heard a voice like velvet coming from inside the house. “Henry, who’s out there?”
“It’s some jive-assed kids who want a birthday screw,” he retorted.

“Well let them in, you can’t turn down a man on his birthday.”
Jerld and Jimmy inched their way around the man and walk into a kitchen. There were several old big soft chairs sitting all around the walls as if it was a waiting room in a doctor’s office; there was a plate of eggs and some type of white slimy stuff sitting on the table. It looked like the man had been eating breakfast and it was two o’clock in the afternoon.
The velvet voice said from behind a closed door, “Gentlemen, sit down I will be with you as soon as I can clean up a little.”
J & J went over and sat down alongside of each other in the overstuffed chairs.
The man sat down at the table and asked, “Do you boys want some grits?”
They nodded a decline and said nothing.
Jerld could see Jimmy out of the corner of his eyes. He was squirming and pushing down on the crotch of his pants with both hands. The man sat at the table and scratched his balls as he forked the runny eggs and grits into his mouth. He would look at them every other bite and shake his head and chuckle, but would go on scratching. Jerld was starting to wonder if this had been a mistake.

Jimmy would have probably enjoyed a banana split just as much as being here.
The door off the kitchen opened and out walked a woman that looked like she was seven feet tall, wearing only a see-through flimsy top and nothing on the bottom. She was old; Jimmy and Jerld later agreed she had to be at least thirty-five or forty. She had coffee colored skin and blond hair on top and black hair on the bottom. She was pretty but far from being beautiful.
The things that caught Jerld and Jimmy’s eyes were her breasts, they were perfectly formed and the size of two small watermelons, just like those seen every day in the crates where Jerld worked.
The nipples looked the size of a saucer, restaurants use under a coffee cup. These saucers each had a pinkish brown large grape sitting in the middle of each.
Jerld said to himself “Shit one of those is bigger then both of my Mom’s.” Jimmy just sat and pushed harder on his crotch. They both just stared with their mouths wide open.
The women sat down in a kitchen chair and crossed her legs in a manner that showed Jerld and Jimmy a very long and suggestive view of what she was selling.

Then in a very quiet and soft voice she said; “Hello Gentlemen, my name is “Robin” what can I do for you today?”
Jerld spoke up “I have thirty dollars and Jimmy and me both want to get laid. Where is your sister we want to do it together? A four-sie.”
The woman just threw her head back and laughed and said, “I don’t have a sister, where did you hear that?”
Jerld shyly looked her in the eyes and said “I am sorry but me and Jimmy want to do it with “The Twins?”
She laughed even harder and even old Henry stop eating and started to laugh, until he choked on some eggs and started to gag. The women stood up and undid a belt around the see-through top and cupped a breast in each hand and said: “Boys let me introduce you to “The Twins“, and I often do three-sies.” So if you want, each of you can have one to enjoy and we will call it four-sies or whatever else you’d like.”
Jerld and Jimmy looked at each other, shaking their heads no, and they both shrugged.
Jerld looked at Jimmy and said; “It’s your birthday you go first, I can wait”
Buy this time Jimmy had stood up and “Robin” took him by the hand.

As she started to lead him away, Jimmy was hesitant and Jerld could see that Jimmy already had a small wet spot just below the zipper on his pants.
When they entered, the room Jimmy could see it was a bedroom, but he thought it looked like no other bedroom he had ever seen before. There was only one small single bed, and thrown over it was a crumpled and well-worn sheet.
Jimmy could not determine it’s color, it was either dirty white, gray, light blue or it could have been about any other color, it was hard to tell.
In a large slightly transparent looking circle that took up most of the center of the sheet there were several discolored spots. Next to the bed there was a very small table. On the table was a bottle of mouthwash and a large porcelain bowl partially filled with what appeared to be water.
Under the table there was a roll of paper towels and a metal pail. There was only one light in the room and it hung from the ceiling and it had no shade and next to it hung a long slender strip of dirty yellow paper that had flies stuck all over it.
On the wall at the head of the bed hung a small dirty white crocheted cross.

“Robin” took off her flimsy top and told Jimmy to drop his pants; she said she had to wash him off first. Jimmy did what he was told and she grabbed a wet washcloth out of the bowl and started to wash his “dick.”
He felt the cold washcloth sliding back and forth, back and forth, on his already hard “dick.” His whole body begin to tighten, it started with his legs, then his butt seemed to be sucking close, his stomach, his back, he became a tightly wound spring just waiting to burst. He closed his eyes and stood very still. He felt Robin grab his hand and put it on the nipple of her breast. Jimmy took a quick peak and that was it.
The hand, the sight of those Twins, and having never been this close to a naked woman before, was just too much for him.
He shot his rocks all over her hand; it felt like he had just spilled a tub of warm water all over his groin.
He made gasping sounds as Robin grabbed a washcloth and gently held it around his manhood, but one washcloth couldn’t hold it all and it dribbled out onto the floor.
As he watched his love juices drip out of the washcloth and strike the floor, he could tell by all the other dried up spots, there had been many before him who had stood as he had, and left floor paintings.

When his spring had completely unwound and his love fountain had died, he gasped one more time and then collapse on to the bed.
Jerld saw a magazine laying on the floor next to the chair he was sitting in, he picked it up to read. It had pictures of naked women on the cover and the inside was full of pages and pages of them. He had seen magazines like this before, but this one had pictures of women doing it with small horses, big dogs, and broomsticks and just about anything else you could imagine.
He started to look through it when all of a sudden Jimmy came out followed by Robin. Jerld noticed Jimmy had a very strange look on his face.
Robin said in a voice that could be heard throughout the house, “Jimmy you were great. I’ve been laid by a lot of guys and you were one of the best.” She then looked at Jerld and said, “You’re next.”
Pointing at Jimmy, She said, “He about wore me out, let see what you can do?”
Jerld was surprised that he didn’t feel nervous. He followed Robin and “The Twins” into the same room where she had led Jimmy. When he looked around the room, he also saw the same things as Jimmy did, but without stopping he walked straight to the bed and took off his pants.
Since he never wore any under shorts unless his mother saw him getting dressed, he sat naked from the waist down, on the dirty-sheeted bed.

Robin looked at him and smiled and said, “You’re in a pretty big hurry aren’t you?”
Jerld only smiled and looked at the naked woman that was standing in front of him. He was enjoying this and thought to himself, old lady five fingers has been taking care of me up till now, so I’ve had a lot of practice.
He was a little uncomfortable, because of the unfamiliarity of the dirty room. He thought to himself, “I hope my mother doesn’t walk in and catch me” and then chuckled. Robin and “The Twins” were standing right in front of him.
With her dark crotch hair right in front of his face, Robin grabbed the back of his head and pulled his face into the black forest.
There was a smell that was somewhat familiar to him, but he couldn’t place it. Robin reached down with the other hand and parted her folds of hair and placed her fingers into the part, she then rubbed them on Jerld’s lips.
When she did that Jerld knew what the smell was, it smelled just like it did when his momma opened a can of Tuna Fish.
Jerld could feel himself growing bigger and harder then he had ever been. With his legs parted by Robin she slid down until she was on her knees and her head was between Jerld’s legs.
He looked down and could see “The Twins” almost touching the floor.

That was when he felt a moistness slowly surrounding his “dick.”
Her lips had consumed most of it and then she would again slowly back off. Jerld just sat and looked around the room. He was enjoying this but to him it really was not what he had expected. He had seen the small table when he had first walked into the room and wondered then what the mouthwash, and the bowl and pail was for.
Now he thought to himself “I think I know what she uses the mouthwash for.”
All of a sudden he felt the same sensation in his groin that he did when he and old lady five fingers were doing their thing. He exploded.
He could feel it shooting into Robin’s mouth and felt some drip on his nuts.
She gagged slightly and immediately without getting up turned and grabbed the metal pail and spit again and again. Jerld thought, “Well now I know what the pail is for.”
“Shit boy,” Robin said loudly. “Did you have to get rid of it all at once?”
Jerld just sat there for a few minutes and thought to himself, “I wonder what Jimmy did that made him so good.” Robin tried to get Jerld aroused again, but it just wasn’t going to happen.

She asked, “Did you get your thirty dollars worth of “The Twins?”
Jerld started to reach for his pants and was stopped by Robin’s, “Wait a minute.”
She grabbed a washcloth out of the bowl and some paper towel and wipe Jerld’s dick and balls off.
Jerld smiled and said under his breath “Now I know what the bowl and paper towels are for.”
Smiling he pulled his pants on and stood up, and started to walk out of the room.
At the door he stopped, turned and asked, “Tell me what Jimmy did?” Robin just smiled and shook her head “No.”
When he walked out into the room, Jimmy was sitting at the table with Henry and they were playing checkers, and good old Henry was still scratching. Jimmy looked questionably at Jerld and when he saw only a grin, Jimmy knew that Robin had not told Jerld about him. Jerld said, “Let’s go,” and led the way out the door.
“Well Jimmy did you enjoy “The Twins?” he asked, as they reach the bottom of the stairs.
Jimmy smiled, the biggest smile Jerld had ever seen come from him.

“It was a great birthday and that ugly old Henry can’t play checkers worth a Shit,” Jimmy said.
Reaching into his pocket, he handed Jerld his thirty dollars back.
“It was his idea to play for money and I stomped his shit smeared ass.”

This Jail is Black- Chapters 1, 2 & 3

2007-08-25T19:44:00.000-07:00

Palm Springs Lofts

Previous Chapters can be read by clicking on the above Archives.

Prologue

The wind was blowing down Broadway off of Lake Michigan like a fan inside a refrigerator, strong, silent, and freezing cold. Gary Indiana’s steel mills had been a warming source for these strong, sometimes gale force winds, for several decades. Many of the mill’s open-hearth furnaces have since been silenced and their fires extinguished. Many businesses that had located on Gary’s main street, Broadway, are now closed. Broadway is now a funnel emptying its cold windy contents onto anyone who is brave enough or so determined that they would challenge its power.
The early settlers of Gary did a good job of laying out Gary’s downtown streets. The streets just seemed to splay out of the steel mills like fingers from a palm. The main thoroughfares were named and built like most cities, in a grid pattern, with Broadway as its epicenter. The streets to the west were named after U.S. presidents, in the order they had served, starting with Washington.
To the east of Broadway they were named after individual states, and streets running horizontal to Lake Michigan were avenues in numerical order starting with First Avenue.
Gary, once a prosperous city, has begun to fall on hard times.
Several steel mills had once sat on the southern shore of Lake Michigan and for years they had employed several thousand workers.
A workforce made up by many nationalities and races that had moved to Northwest Indiana with hopes of finding work in one of these mills. For several decades there was plenty of work for everyone and the pay and the life it supported was a good one. This held true until the dreaded sixties arrived.
That was the decade that started Gary’s downturn. The employment situation deteriorated quickly as the steel mills began to have massive layoffs. The reduction of the workforce continued until most of the mills were operating with only a minimum staff. Lacks of orders caused by a staggering economy were responsible for many of the smaller mills closing. To find other work many the white families started moving out of Gary. Leaving the downtown or what was then known as the “District”, mostly populated by black and Hispanic families, and fewer white families who could not afford to move or just would not leave the home they had occupied for years.
Street gangs, composed of young adult blacks and teenagers who either had lost their jobs or just couldn’t find one, slowly began to rule the streets of Gary’s downtown. Stores, which use to be thriving businesses, closed leaving Broadway and its adjacent streets in ruins.
Driving down Broadway after dark was as if you had crossed into another dimension. On many nights not a soul could be seen walking in the downtown area.

If driving through, a white person knew better then to stray too far off of Broadway. Numerous stores either had their windows boarded up or gated with steel bars. Street lighting was now minimal at most. Several of the light poles were now nothing more then big grey steel sticks bearing the remnants of tattered signs of some long ago would be politician. Their bulbs had burned out several years ago and had not been replaced. If they were fixed they would only be broken out again within days.
Gary, as had been reported in the Federal Bureau of Investigations
Uniform Crime Report, was the murder capital of the United States. More people were murdered in Gary, percentage wise, then in any other city in the United States. If these statistics, along with the reported drug stats, were accurately gathered, Gary also was one of the largest drug distribution centers in the Midwest.
In the midst of all this children were being born and raised by many parents who had no opportunity to find much needed work to support their families. Many children and young adults were left to wander the streets and exist as best they could.
Their homes became the street corners and for many their vocation became drug dealing and prostitution.

Eventually the money being earned just to exist became money to be used for the nicer things in life, such as fancy cars and big flash rolls.
The Family Street Gang composed of black drug dealers, thieves, and killers, with its ruthlessness, got its foot in the door and took control of Gary and its streets.

This story is about two black kids raised in Gary during this period of time. It is about their lives and their downward spiral into drug dealing, murder, and prison.

Chapter One: Business is Good

Twenty-five blocks south of the lake, on Broadway, was the center of most of the drug activity in Gary and Lake County. It was said that more drugs and narcotics were peddled on this one corner in one hour, than anywhere else in the Midwest. The drug-dealing operational center was a phone booth at the corner of Twenty-fifth and Broadway.
It was a winter night and the wind was howling its way through Gary’s deserted streets as if it was looking for the warmth of another steel mill furnace.
Two lone figures hunkered down next to the only telephone booth that still worked on Gary‘s south side. The telephone company had decided long ago that it was useless to try to repair any telephone booth that was not inside a building or protected by the lights of a nearby business. In Gary drugs were now considered a major industry and where else could you score a few dollars to buy your drugs so easily than a phone both. A nail puller or even a claw hammer could do the job, a quick pry down and out, and the coins would just tumble out onto the filthy alcohol and urine stained floor.
The two black men were doing everything they could to stay out of the freezing wind, but their efforts to use the phone booth, as a windbreak wasn’t working very well.

Most of the phone booth’s windows were broken out, but it still served its purpose, it was Jimmy and Jerld’s office. As long as the phone worked they would be there. Not only were they using the phone booth as a windbreak, they also were making sure that no one damaged “their” phone.
Regardless of the wind, snow, freezing rain or the heat of the summer, their business depended on them being there to answer the phone when it rang. Their job depended on a working phone; each ring was to them like a cash register bell, bringing in more money. They understood very well that to exist on the streets of Gary, money and bullets were the only conversation everyone understood. The night’s business had been unusually slow but it was soon going to pick up.
This corner was like a lot of the neighborhood corners in Gary. Everywhere you looked regardless of direction, you could see boarded up buildings. Except for an aging mission for derelicts and the homeless, located across the street, there were no other buildings lighted for several blocks.
This now rundown area had been a vital and busy section of Gary only a few years ago, with numerous mom and pop storefront businesses.
Now the buildings looked as if terrorist had set off a bomb knocking out every pane of glass within eyesight.

Vacant buildings, like old soldiers, stood watch over the streets with their drapes, like shoulder epaulets, flapping out the second story windows.
Their deteriorating and dilapidated condition and the vacant lots scattered with beer bottles, cans and used condoms had turned this once thriving business corner into a no man’s land.
It was a December night and Northwest Indiana was its usual sub-zero dumping ground for winter’s angry ice and snow. The rap, rap, rap sound of car tires was all that could be heard as they slipped and slid down the ice covered streets.
Suddenly the two lonely figures stood erect as a car slowed and Jimmy whispered “Business.”
Jerld and Jimmy had been standing on their corner for about fifteen or twenty minutes when they saw a carload of honky kids drive slowly by. The driver made the usual pass trying to get up his courage and also to trying to decide if the two black men standing on the corner looked like they were dope dealers.
Jerld didn’t mind this ritual car dance that all the younger kids did.
He knew if he looked as if he expected them to stop and then gave them the flash, a hand in and out of his front pocket quickly, that they would summon up enough nerve to stop.

Jimmy hated these drive-bys for two reasons. One, he always suspected it might be a rival dealer out to put his competition out of business with a shotgun barrel out the window and a couple of shots and no more J & J.
Reason number two was he hated whites and whites were the ones who always had to do the drive-bys first before they stopped.
He would always say to Jerld, “I ain’t no fucking animal in the zoo to be stared at.”
Jerld would just smile and say, “You can leave and I’ll take their white-assed money. It all spends the same.”
Jimmy would growl, and then as he was paid to do, he would look up and down the street making sure there were no cops or anyone else nearby to interfere with their business.
This carload of white kids was not familiar to Jerld or Jimmy. They had a lot of whiteys that were regular customers. They would come to Gary from the surrounding counties, and Jerld and Jimmy had got to know some of them as good customers. They also could recognize some of their cars, which was very important in their line of work.
This was an older faded Pontiac and it had Kentucky license plates.
Jerld wondered what these Cracker Kids were doing on the south side of Gary.

Whites only came here to collect the Black Wheel Lottery payoffs or to buy dope.
Jerld thought to himself, “If them kids get on the wrong street tonight they will be a nice target with their white skin and what looked like two young blond ladies in the back seat.”
He felt sorry for some of his customers. They would drive up in their fancy cars and would want to buy some “Coke” or “Smack.” They acted and thought they were cool the way they would dicker for the price.
“Hell this is the seventies now, not the sixties, the Smack, (heroin) he sold was what was called salt and pepper. It was cut and diluted so bad that you had to do several “Dimes” or a couple of “Quarters” to even get a runny nose, but the kids didn’t know that. They just wanted to get high.
So they just kept coming back time and time again.
It was good for business, but Jerld still had a goal, he wanted to be known as the dealer with the best and the most. If and when that ever happened he would then be able to deal quantities, and would be living on easy street for the rest of his life, with a lot of nice “Bitches” and nice “Rides.
The white kids in the Pontiac returned and started to pull up to the curb. Jerld motioned to them to drive around the corner and park on 25th.

They did, and a young male in the passenger seat rolled down the window as Jerld walked over and leaned in. The driver was holding a sawed off shotgun, and it was pointed right at Jerld’s nose.
The passenger said, “Don’t move your black ass one inch or your dead.” Jimmy had moved away from the car and had returned to the corner to watch Jerld’s back. Jerld just stared into the both barrels of the shotgun, which looked like two small cannons pointed directly at his face.
The driver said, “Give me all of your dope or I will give you a new face.”
Jerld could see out the corner of his eyes that there were two very young teenage girls in the back seat and they were giggling and slapping each other as if they were laughing at a funny joke they had just heard.
Jerld thought, “Man this ain’t funny.” They had parked right in front of a boarded-up building and the plywood had several knot holes that had been punched out, fallen out, or had rotted out from age. This was J & J’s corner they knew every inch of it and could see it with their eyes closed.
The passenger said, “Didn’t you hear the man? We want your dope or your shoulder pimple is going to be splattered all over that plywood.” As he motioned with his head toward the boarded up building.

Jerld’s legs were trembling, and it wasn’t from the cold that had bothered him so much a few minutes ago. He felt like someone had just kicked him in the groin and his balls had come up into his throat and were trying to climb over his tongue to get out. Jerld looked for Jimmy and could only see the tip one of his shoes without turning his head. It looked like they were miles away, not just the fifteen or twenty feet that it actually was. Jerld had been sizing up his would-be killers, as he stood transfixed. He stood very still not moving or doing anything that would make this white kid a hero in his friend’s eyes, by having killed a nigger.
Jerld had heard that there were families down in Kentucky that go nigger hunting just for fun on Saturday nights. He didn’t want to make these two punk-ass kids heroes in their “Cunts’ eyes. And sure as hell he wasn’t going to give up his dope to them or anyone else.
The driver looked to be anywhere from fifteen to eighteen years old. The passenger was probably a little older. Neither one of the little “Back Seat Bitches” could be much over fourteen years old.
It was very cold out, and the tank tops that these little “Prick Teasers” wore were white, and almost see-through, their tiny nipples showed their excitement.

The two in the front seat were typical “Crackers” they each had on a cowboy shirt and wore boots and Levis.
Both had what looked to be belts with buckles as big as the pancakes Jerld’s momma made.
The only difference between them was one had a double barrel cannon in his hand and that hand was starting to shake.
Jerld thought to himself “Think of something quick or your going to be a sidewalk lollypop for some stray dog.”
“You Crackers had better think twice before you come up into this nigger’s face with a gun in my town” Jerld said in the coldest and calmest voice he could summon up.
There was a quick look of fright on the driver’s face.
Jerld continued. “Do you see that plywood over there?” He said, gesturing with a sideward nod of his head toward the boarded-up building.
“You punk-ass kids want to shoot me, do you?”
“Each hole that you see in that wood over there has a loaded scatter gun behind it, pointing right at all your white asses and this ratty old piece of shit you’re driving.”
“If you want to check it out pull that fucking trigger, you dumb ass hillbillies, why do you think I had you pull around the corner and park here.”
Jerld could see the questioning fear in their eyes. The little “Tits” in the back had quit slapping each other and were sitting with their hands in their laps, just as if their mothers had often told them to do, “Sit up straight and be good”.
There was no doubt that the “Big Heroes” in the front seat were now frightened shitless. Jerld leaned further into the car and grabbed the barrel of the shotgun and wrenched it out of the driver’s hand. As he was pulling it out, he took the butt and hit the passenger right in the middle of his forehead. Blood flew; it splattered all over the front of the driver’s shirt and made it look like it was made with red and white poke-a-dotted material.
The two petrified bitches in the back seat let out a sound that could only be described as a whimpering, silent scream. Blood decorated their hair, face, arms and legs. Their white t-tops were covered with splatters of every shape.
The passenger groaned and rolled down onto the floor and gagging and gurgling sounds spewed out with the blood as it dripped on the floor.
In the same motion he turned the gun around and pointed at the driver and said, “Get out your money and I want it all. If I find out you are holding out on me I will blow your asses back to Kentucky.”
All four of the would-be dope robbers grabbed for their pockets.

They started handing their bills and change to Jerld just like a cashier at a drive through window. It kept coming from one hand or another. The driver grabbed the passenger’s; who was stilled curled up in a bloody pile on the floorboard, wallet out of his back pocket and handed it to Jerld. Jerld was surprised without counting it; it looked like they had given him several hundred dollars.
Jerld stuck the gun in the driver’s neck and said, “You should have been out of my town yesterday, get your asses back to Kentucky before you find out what us northern niggers do to hillbillies on Saturday night.”
Tires shrilled like a referee’s whistle as the driver slammed his foot down on the accelerator. As the car pulled away, from the back seat came a cry of shear terror. It faded away like the siren of a passing fire truck.
Jimmy quickly turned around and saw Jerld standing there with a shotgun in one hand and a hand full of money in the other.
Jimmy came running over with a quizzical look on his face and said: “What happened? I can’t leave you alone for a minute.”
Jerld just looked at the hand full of money and said, “Business is good Jimmy, Business is good”

Chapter Two: Cost of Doing Business.

A couple hours had passed when another car pulled slowly up to the curb, but stayed some distance down the street. It wasn’t unusual for first timers to do this. They wanted to see what they had to do to score some dope. If you got to them in time before they lost their courage you usually could make a fast buck. First timers would say very little. They would ask for what they wanted, pay for it, and then they would get the fuck out of there as fast as they could.
Jimmy quickly approached the curb, while Jerld hung back in the shadows. It was a dark older model big car with little or no chrome. It had driven up very slowly as if they were looking to score some dope, but Jerld sensed there was something wrong. It was dark inside the car and you could barely see that it had two occupants, and both of them were black. They slouched down in the front seat so only their heads stuck up and could be seen.
It came to Jerld what was wrong, just as the car slowed to a stop. Jerld shouted quietly, “Jimmy it’s the man”.
Jimmy quickly turned and started to walk north on Broadway and the two cops in the car knew they had been recognized as narcs.

Gary’s entire police department only had three unmarked cars available to use for clandestine investigations, all black four door Fords. They had been used for so long that all the drug pushers knew them on sight. The driver wasn’t familiar to Jerld, but he knew the passenger. The large black man rolled down the passenger side window as the car pulled up to the telephone booth. Jerld recognized the man as a cop they all called Jacob.
Last names on the streets of Gary were not necessary and were only used on “Rap Sheets” when you were arrested and booked at the Gary City Jail. This applied to the cops also. If the street thugs knew your last name, they could find out where you lived which was not good for cops or their families. It made them easy targets for some spaced out junkie trying to even a score.
Detectives Jacob and his partner Terrance had been working the drug scene in Gary for over three years now. They hadn’t requested or enjoyed being assigned to the narcotics squad. They were assigned to that job because they were black and they had no choice. The black cops in Gary weren’t tripping over each other to become narcs. Many of the street cops had friends from high school or their neighborhoods who were in the business of drug dealing. Some suspected their own relatives were dealing drugs, but out of necessity not by choice.

Jacob and his partner Terrance didn’t like the narc job and both had threatened to resign from the force shortly after they had been assigned to undercover work. The Assistant Chief of Police at that time had been a police academy buddy of Jacob’s, and he was able to talk both of them into trying the drug assignment a little longer.
It didn’t work, shortly after they had agreed to stay undercover a drug dealer threaten to have both of them and their families killed. Jacob and Terrance went looking for the dealer, and one evening they found him at is house. Jacob walks in to the bedroom and shot dealer while he was still in bed. The only word uttered was “Shit” as the drug dealer open his eyes and saw Jacob. From the next room a female screamed “it’s the cops”. Then another shot rang out and the drug dealer’s bodyguard fell to the floor, shot in the back of the head by Terrance. There was the usual obligatory hearing before the Police Chief and the Police Commission, and they all were presented with the same false information.
The investigating officers, along with their investigative reports told a story of a two guns being recovered at the scene and how although it neither had fired, one was reported to have been found in the drug dealer’s hand and the other laying on the floor by the bodyguard hand. Both had reportedly aimed them at the two officers before they were shot to death.

As stated by both Jacob and Terrance in their “Official Testimony.”
Statements to the Commission, said the drug dealer’s bodyguard did what he was paid to do. He stepped in front of the dealer and took a bullet meant for is employer.
After a few weeks of studying the facts of the case, the Chief announced that he and the Commission had found the officers guilt-less. He further went on to say that Jacob and Terrance were to be honored for their fast actions that “Could have caused them or an innocent bystander to be killed or injured.” Of course the news release quoted the Chief in the headlines, “Shootings ruled justified.”
The whole police department knew what really had happened, but you just don’t rat on a fellow officer. The rumor around the police department was that the Assistant Chief felt as if it was partially his fault for his not taking Jacob and Terrance out of the undercover assignment when they had asked. So he helped cover up the shooting.
Jacob and Terrance were no longer considered to be “Good Cops” by the honest police officers, and the dishonest officers were afraid to be seen associating with them. So they became department outcasts. They were left to roam the streets of Gary doing whatever they wanted as long as they stayed out of the local nightly news.

Police work became secondary to their new job. Shaking down drug dealers and prostitutes became their main occupation. For them it was very profitable and they became very good at it.
Jerld had dealt with Jacob before and knew how the game was played. You only had to slip Jacob a few coins then he and his partner would leave a street dealer alone, at least for that night.
Jerld had also heard that Jacob and his partner were now working for a big drug supplier out of Chicago and they did the supplier’s collecting when a drug deal went bad, or if a debt was not settled as it should have been.
Street rumors of Detective Jacob and his partner having shot the two drug dealers a few years ago and nothing had happened to him, made them respected by some and feared by most of the street level drug peddlers. Jerld remembered the newspapers headlines that had reported the Police Chief had said it was a justifiable shooting. One of the dealers was supposed to have pulled a gun on Jacob, but everyone figured both guns were probably drop guns that they had taken away from some other street dealers.
Jerld didn’t know much more than that, but what he did know was Jacob was a cop and in Gary the cops did what they wanted and covered each other’s asses.

Whenever Jacob had an un-cooperating dealer he would remind the dealer of the two dealers that they had shot and just smile a big wide grin showing all of his rotten teeth. Jerld had been warned before by Jacob and knew that he had to pay or else.
Jerld felt his anger rising and his fingers starting to shake as he slowly walked to the curb.
He disliked all cops, and he showed his distain for them every chance he could. He was not this cop’s or any other cop’s nigger and he was not going to be treated like one.
Most of all, he wasn’t too anxious to part with any of the money in his pocket tonight. With what he had gotten from the hillbilly kids, he would be able to buy double his profit for the night, increasing his and Jimmy’s cut of the profit. The kids’ money was money his supplier didn’t know he had gotten, so he wouldn’t have to split it with him. Each day’s supply had to be paid for no matter what else happened. If you didn’t pay for yesterday’s dope you wouldn’t be fronted anymore until it was paid for. Jerld’s supplier was not one to be taken lightly and Jerld was more afraid of his supplier than he was of this money pimping cop.
“Jerld, what’s happening tonight? Tell Jimmy if he runs from me again I’ll cut his dick off and feed it to his mother, you understand?”

Jerld stood up as tall as he could so he was looking down on the two detectives. He liked the momentary feeling of superiority that it gave him.
Jacob looked up and said “Get your face down in this window before I blow your balls off.”
Jerld took his time before he leaned into the rolled down window. He could see that Jacob was getting pissed off, and he smiled ever so slightly, which seemed to anger the “dick-head” cop even more.
Jacob reached out the window and grabbed Jerld’s left ear and said as he twisted it, “Thomas and I are hungry for a steak, can you shit heads loan us a couple twenties? I’ll pay you back the second Thursday of next week”. Jerld wrenched back from the detective’s grip and reached into his jacket pocket, as he did he felt the cold steel of his gun. It was a 45 caliber that he had gotten a few years ago, and he was never without it. As he caressed the gun’s grip, Jacob glared at him and said, “Go ahead you little fucker my piece is pointing right at your love muscle. Now give it up so we can go eat.”
Jerld hesitated wondering if he could shoot both of them before they got out of the car. Suddenly Jimmy appeared out of nowhere and handed two twenties to Jacob.

Jacob nodded his head toward Jimmy and snarled “Jerld, tell Jimmy what I said about his mother and thank him for saving your life.”
Jerld and Jimmy stood quietly as the dented up undercover car slipped on the ice throwing snow and slush from its tires as it roared off.
Jimmy was there again to save my ass, Jerld thought, but I could have taken care of the situation myself. Jerld knew that Jimmy would have backed him up no matter what had happened.
He also knew Jimmy would have taken a bullet for him, if it would have been necessary.
This time Jimmy had done what was best and Jerld knew it. He just patted Jimmy on the shoulder and went back to the phone booth.
“Hey Jimmy, why is it so damn cold tonight?” Jerld asked, not even expecting an answer.
“How the hell do I know, do I look like a white-ass weather man?” Jimmy said with a crack of a smile lifting the corners of his large lips.
Jerld and Jimmy looked up at the sky and both folded their arms in an effort to warm themselves.

Chapter Three: Growing Up.

Jimmy and Jerld always did things alike. Jimmy’s mother’s live-in boyfriend, Hobie, always said that, “If you looked at Jimmy and Jerld together, then maybe the white honkys are right, we all do look alike.”
Jerld had just celebrated his twentieth birthday and Jimmy’s twentieth birthday was only three months away. But they were as different in looks as any two young black men could be. It irritated Jerld whenever Hobie joked that they looked so much alike, but Jimmy would cozy up next to Jerld and bristle with pride.
The two Js, as their friends called them, could always be found standing at their spot, the corner of Twenty-Fifth Avenue and Broadway. This corner was notorious for its drug dealing and that was exactly why they were there, hanging at the outside public phone booth, hoping for it to ring. Everyone who drove by knew what they were doing they were dealing dope. “Boy,” “Girl,” “Crack,” “Smack,” whatever you called it they could get it for you. They didn’t do much “Weed,” marijuana was too balky and hard to stash nearby.
The white kids, from the next county over, loved to have fancy names for the heroin, cocaine, and the other drugs they bought and used. In the drug world, on the Gary streets the shorter the conversation the better.
“Two dimes of Smack” said it all.

What a picture the two of them made. Jerld was strikingly handsome with olive colored skin. He was six foot tall and weighed around one hundred and sixty pounds. His face and body reminded you of a sleek, small, jet plane. His dark-brown hair was always cut as short as he could get it. A razor cut part started at the middle of the left side of his head and slightly drifted to the center of his forehead. His dark-brown eyes were the windshields for his dancing and always darting pupils. His lips served as a small frame encasing his alternately spaced gold and porcelain top teeth.
Jerld’s head seemed to always be moving from side to side in an arc like fashion, not to fast or to slow. This was the movement of a seasoned street level drug dealer and can best be described as cool and cautious. This was a trait of most street level drug dealers, always watching for the cops, or an attempt of a quick rip-off by some spaced out junkie. Jerld’s ears were very small and they laid gently against his head like two air foils waiting to be opened when they were needed to stop the side to side head movement.
His nose was his most attractive feature; it sloped gently forward like the nose of a jetliner. As if it was positioned that way to break the wind and the nostrils gracefully flared and were swept back like small wings.

He knew he was good looking, it showed in his confident smile, his carriage, shoulders and back held straight so as to support a head held high and a chin that jutted out and lifted upward.
His dress was always the same. No hat, a black simulated leather below the waist coat. His coat had seen better days, and now was weather cracked, threads had pulled loose in the side seams and now waved as banners in the wind. A belt was tightly tied around his waist in an effort to support and hide the Beretta that he always carried.
Jerald liked his coat tied tight that way so it would cause his gun to bulge in his jacket pocket. This let everyone know that he had a “piece” and it was handy. You didn’t deal dope in Gary without a gun nearby.
He wore light, faded, yellow pants, and they ended at his sharply pointed Spider Shoes. He always joked that they were pointed that way so he could kill the Black Widow spiders that infested the corners of his momma’s house. Jerld always had two weapons with him everywhere he went, the gun and Jimmy.
If Jerld looked like a sleek jet plane, then Jimmy, in comparison, had the appearance of a blunt-nose helicopter. Jimmy had a complexion that you definitely couldn’t see in a dark room.

It was as if God had made Jimmy to be seen only when he was outside in the sunlight or in a lighted room.
Jimmy was proud of his very dark colored skin and made it a point to brag, “At least you can tell me from those “white skinned rich boys.”
Jimmy was five foot seven inches when he stood up straight and weighed in at anywhere from two hundred and sixty to two hundred and seventy pounds. This depended on how many times he had eaten at home over the last few days. Jimmy’s mother believed that bigger is always better and her boy was just healthy looking.
Jimmy liked his hair long like some of the white kids wore theirs. But they didn’t have the kinky curls to contend with like he did.
His hair resembled a flock of birds that had just flown into a helicopter’s rotor blades. His forehead was like the rounded pilot’s cabin and his eyebrows protruded out like a couple of sun visors. He had the eyes of a combat veteran that had seen too much death and dying, but now he was home and was bewildered as to what was expected of him.
The only time Jimmy’s eyes smiled was when he was told by Jerld “Good Job.” Then his eyes would shine for a minute and the corners of his lips would curl up slightly and then nothing.

He really didn’t have any ears. It just looked like there was supposed to be something there, but some sort of intense heat had melted them into the sides of his head. Only tiny little holes were seen when he turned his head. What chin? There was none. His face just seemed to fade into his chest. It was just another part of the rounded, odd, shaped bulb that sat directly on his shoulders.
There were no signs of a neck at all. The best description of Jimmy would be one large mass of skin, muscles and hair, balled up and balancing on two squat and crooked legs.
Like Jerld he always wore the same clothes. A white t-shirt covered by a high school letter jacket with a big “F” on it, which he was told stood for Froebel High School. He never played any sports at all and he hadn’t attended Froebel either. He wore it because he knew it was an all black school, and he wanted everyone to know he was proud to be black.
Jimmy didn’t really have much of a choice, his skin matched the color of Jerld’s black coat and looked as tough as the fake leather it was made of.
Old baggy blue Levis and black, ragged, work boots made up the rest of his attire. When you saw Jimmy, you didn’t have to be told Jimmy was not anyone you wanted to mess with.
His temper and lack of control made him feared by the young and old.

He had caused many junkies to wish they had paid Jerld for their dope. Jimmy carried three weapons, his two fists and his pride and joy. A sawed off shotgun that he had rigged up to hang under his armpit. Everyone on the street knew that if Jimmy approached you and it looked like his right sleeve was empty someone was in trouble, big trouble.
Jerld and Jimmy had been friends all their lives.
Their friendship began when they first shared a playpen together while their mothers sat and smoked and gabbed about Aunt Jordine’s latest old man. Their mothers were second cousins and both families had always lived in the same housing project or at least in the same neighborhood.
When Jimmy moved from Marshall Town to the projects called Ivanhoe, his mom would say “Well we’re still within “spitten distance.” They had always lived on Gary’s Eastside. To some it was considered one of the worst parts of Gary, Indiana, to Jerld and Jimmy it was home.
Jerld’s house was a two flat walk-up. The projects where his apartment was had several two and three story rundown buildings. There were six down the middle with parking on each side and the parking lots were enclosed by four buildings placed long ways on all four sides of the center building.
Each was identical except for how they were situated on the lots.

Jerld’s building was one of the worst as far as its condition. It sat in the very back of the projects with only a view of the large abandoned and uncared for wasteland. Years ago this area had been the home to hundreds of Slavic immigrant families from Northern and Eastern Europe. The now vacant homes that once housed these families are the playgrounds for the kids from the projects during the day, and served as flop houses and shooting galleries for the homeless and heroin addicts after the sun set.

As Jerld had grown up he and his sister and mother had moved around a lot until the last few years when they had ended up here. The rent was the cheapest and the government subsidized everyone for living in these squalor and rat ridden stacks of humanity. To Jerld and his family it became their home and the center of all their activities. The apartment they lived in had four rooms, one being a small kitchen and bath combined. It hadn’t been built that way, but had been created out of necessity.
A wall with the doorway had at one time separated the two rooms, but a prior tenant had used the apartment for dope den and had torn down the wall. Too many addicts couldn’t make it from the kitchen table where they shot up their dope, to the toilet before disgorging the contents of their stomachs. The wall had only served as an obstacle on a much traveled path of vomit, urine stained carpet.

The three other rooms in the apartment were combined into a bedroom, shared by Jerld and his sister, and sitting room. Jerld had slept with his mother until he was nine years old and now had a small cot in with his older sister. His mother slept on an old sofa in the sitting room and used his sister’s bed when she was gone. Jerald was glad that his sister had “Kopper” for a boy friend. She spent most of her time with him and just came home when she needed money or a favor.
If it weren’t for the wooden balcony facing out onto the center parking lot they would not have had any social life at all. In the heat of the day everyone in the projects would be out on their balconies or they would be walking and hanging out in the parking lots. With just a holler you could start a conversation with all your neighbors at one time.
Jerld and Jimmy attended school together all the way from first grade up to ninth grade at mostly all black schools, there were a few Mexicans and fewer whites. The Mexicans and whites knew their places and tended to stay to themselves. “These were Black Schools”, and they knew the rules.

2007-08-19T14:37:00.000-07:00

Readers

The following fictional novel, "This Jail is Black", describes in detail the lives of two black drug dealer's who grew up on the streets of Gary Indiana, the murder capital of the United States.

Their upbringing and the environment that they were brought up in left them with little opportunity to become anything other then a murderers, drug dealers and prisoners of our jails and society.

Prolog, Author's Bio. and Chapter One

2007-08-19T14:04:00.000-07:00

This Book Contains Graphic and Explicit Language, and is Not Recommended for Children Under the Age of Eighteen.

This book is dedicated to my wife, Trudy and my three sons and their families. They had to go without a husband and a father for the many years that I was assigned to undercover narcotics. Without their support I could not have tolerated the stress and loneliness that goes with the job of an Undercover Officer.

PS: Thanks to all the police officers who have lived in the trenches of life to make our society safer.

“THIS JAIL IS BLACK”

A fictional tale of two young black drug dealers growing up in the murder capital of the United States, Gary Indiana.

Author’s Bio:

Jim Wallace grew up in Northwest Indiana. After service in the U.S Marines Corps he returned to join the Indiana State Police. For eight years he worked as an undercover narcotics officer, three of those years he coordinated and supervised the Lake County Drug Task Force composed of seventeen different police agencies, one of which was Gary.
He then was assigned to work in Chicago and Northwest Indiana as a member of one of President Reagan’s regional joint drug task forces. These task forces were made up of local and state law enforcement officers and agents from the Federal Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA), Federal Bureau of Investigations (FBI), Internal Revenue Service (IRS) and U.S. Customs. The author was assigned to investigate drug related homicides that had occurred throughout the Midwest. His twenty-eight year state police career culminated with him serving eleven years as the Chief of Detectives overseeing all the Indiana State Police criminal investigations in Northwestern Indiana.
After his state police service he ran for and was elected Sheriff of Jasper County Indiana and served in that capacity for eight years. Jasper County is a rural county that borders Lake County, of which Gary, Indiana is it’s the largest city. The author learned quickly that Gary’s problems many times became Jasper County’s problems.

Prologue

The wind was blowing down Broadway off of Lake Michigan like a fan inside a refrigerator, strong, silent, and freezing cold. Gary Indiana’s steel mills had been a warming source for these strong, sometimes gale force winds, for several decades. Many of the mill’s open-hearth furnaces have since been silenced and their fires extinguished. Many businesses that had located on Gary’s main street, Broadway, are now closed. Broadway is now a funnel emptying its cold windy contents onto anyone who is brave enough or so determined that they would challenge its power.
The early settlers of Gary did a good job of laying out Gary’s downtown streets. The streets just seemed to splay out of the steel mills like fingers from a palm. The main thoroughfares were named and built like most cities, in a grid pattern, with Broadway as its epicenter. The streets to the west were named after U.S. presidents, in the order they had served, starting with Washington.
To the east of Broadway they were named after individual states, and streets running horizontal to Lake Michigan were avenues in numerical order starting with First Avenue.
Gary, once a prosperous city, has begun to fall on hard times.
Several steel mills had once sat on the southern shore of Lake Michigan and for years they had employed several thousand workers.
A workforce made up by many nationalities and races that had moved to Northwest Indiana with hopes of finding work in one of these mills. For several decades there was plenty of work for everyone and the pay and the life it supported was a good one. This held true until the dreaded sixties arrived.
That was the decade that started Gary’s downturn. The employment situation deteriorated quickly as the steel mills began to have massive layoffs. The reduction of the workforce continued until most of the mills were operating with only a minimum staff. Lacks of orders caused by a staggering economy were responsible for many of the smaller mills closing. To find other work many the white families started moving out of Gary. Leaving the downtown or what was then known as the “District”, mostly populated by black and Hispanic families, and fewer white families who could not afford to move or just would not leave the home they had occupied for years.
Street gangs, composed of young adult blacks and teenagers who either had lost their jobs or just couldn’t find one, slowly began to rule the streets of Gary’s downtown. Stores, which use to be thriving businesses, closed leaving Broadway and its adjacent streets in ruins.
Driving down Broadway after dark was as if you had crossed into another dimension. On many nights not a soul could be seen walking in the downtown area.

If driving through, a white person knew better then to stray too far off of Broadway. Numerous stores either had their windows boarded up or gated with steel bars. Street lighting was now minimal at most. Several of the light poles were now nothing more then big grey steel sticks bearing the remnants of tattered signs of some long ago would be politician. Their bulbs had burned out several years ago and had not been replaced. If they were fixed they would only be broken out again within days.
Gary, as had been reported in the Federal Bureau of Investigations
Uniform Crime Report, was the murder capital of the United States. More people were murdered in Gary, percentage wise, then in any other city in the United States. If these statistics, along with the reported drug stats, were accurately gathered, Gary also was one of the largest drug distribution centers in the Midwest.
In the midst of all this children were being born and raised by many parents who had no opportunity to find much needed work to support their families. Many children and young adults were left to wander the streets and exist as best they could.
Their homes became the street corners and for many their vocation became drug dealing and prostitution.

Eventually the money being earned just to exist became money to be used for the nicer things in life, such as fancy cars and big flash rolls.
The Family Street Gang composed of black drug dealers, thieves, and killers, with its ruthlessness, got its foot in the door and took control of Gary and its streets.

This story is about two black kids raised in Gary during this period of time. It is about their lives and their downward spiral into drug dealing, murder, and prison.

Chapter One: Business is Good

Twenty-five blocks south of the lake, on Broadway, was the center of most of the drug activity in Gary and Lake County. It was said that more drugs and narcotics were peddled on this one corner in one hour, than anywhere else in the Midwest. The drug-dealing operational center was a phone booth at the corner of Twenty-fifth and Broadway.
It was a winter night and the wind was howling its way through Gary’s deserted streets as if it was looking for the warmth of another steel mill furnace.
Two lone figures hunkered down next to the only telephone booth that still worked on Gary‘s south side. The telephone company had decided long ago that it was useless to try to repair any telephone booth that was not inside a building or protected by the lights of a nearby business. In Gary drugs were now considered a major industry and where else could you score a few dollars to buy your drugs so easily than a phone both. A nail puller or even a claw hammer could do the job, a quick pry down and out, and the coins would just tumble out onto the filthy alcohol and urine stained floor.
The two black men were doing everything they could to stay out of the freezing wind, but their efforts to use the phone booth, as a windbreak wasn’t working very well.

Most of the phone booth’s windows were broken out, but it still served its purpose, it was Jimmy and Jerld’s office. As long as the phone worked they would be there. Not only were they using the phone booth as a windbreak, they also were making sure that no one damaged “their” phone.
Regardless of the wind, snow, freezing rain or the heat of the summer, their business depended on them being there to answer the phone when it rang. Their job depended on a working phone; each ring was to them like a cash register bell, bringing in more money. They understood very well that to exist on the streets of Gary, money and bullets were the only conversation everyone understood. The night’s business had been unusually slow but it was soon going to pick up.
This corner was like a lot of the neighborhood corners in Gary. Everywhere you looked regardless of direction, you could see boarded up buildings. Except for an aging mission for derelicts and the homeless, located across the street, there were no other buildings lighted for several blocks.
This now rundown area had been a vital and busy section of Gary only a few years ago, with numerous mom and pop storefront businesses.
Now the buildings looked as if terrorist had set off a bomb knocking out every pane of glass within eyesight.

Vacant buildings, like old soldiers, stood watch over the streets with their drapes, like shoulder epaulets, flapping out the second story windows.
Their deteriorating and dilapidated condition and the vacant lots scattered with beer bottles, cans and used condoms had turned this once thriving business corner into a no man’s land.
It was a December night and Northwest Indiana was its usual sub-zero dumping ground for winter’s angry ice and snow. The rap, rap, rap sound of car tires was all that could be heard as they slipped and slid down the ice covered streets.
Suddenly the two lonely figures stood erect as a car slowed and Jimmy whispered “Business.”
Jerld and Jimmy had been standing on their corner for about fifteen or twenty minutes when they saw a carload of honky kids drive slowly by. The driver made the usual pass trying to get up his courage and also to trying to decide if the two black men standing on the corner looked like they were dope dealers.
Jerld didn’t mind this ritual car dance that all the younger kids did.
He knew if he looked as if he expected them to stop and then gave them the flash, a hand in and out of his front pocket quickly, that they would summon up enough nerve to stop.

Jimmy hated these drive-bys for two reasons. One, he always suspected it might be a rival dealer out to put his competition out of business with a shotgun barrel out the window and a couple of shots and no more J & J.
Reason number two was he hated whites and whites were the ones who always had to do the drive-bys first before they stopped.
He would always say to Jerld, “I ain’t no fucking animal in the zoo to be stared at.”
Jerld would just smile and say, “You can leave and I’ll take their white-assed money. It all spends the same.”
Jimmy would growl, and then as he was paid to do, he would look up and down the street making sure there were no cops or anyone else nearby to interfere with their business.
This carload of white kids was not familiar to Jerld or Jimmy. They had a lot of whiteys that were regular customers. They would come to Gary from the surrounding counties, and Jerld and Jimmy had got to know some of them as good customers. They also could recognize some of their cars, which was very important in their line of work.
This was an older faded Pontiac and it had Kentucky license plates.
Jerld wondered what these Cracker Kids were doing on the south side of Gary.

Whites only came here to collect the Black Wheel Lottery payoffs or to buy dope.
Jerld thought to himself, “If them kids get on the wrong street tonight they will be a nice target with their white skin and what looked like two young blond ladies in the back seat.”
He felt sorry for some of his customers. They would drive up in their fancy cars and would want to buy some “Coke” or “Smack.” They acted and thought they were cool the way they would dicker for the price.
“Hell this is the seventies now, not the sixties, the Smack, (heroin) he sold was what was called salt and pepper. It was cut and diluted so bad that you had to do several “Dimes” or a couple of “Quarters” to even get a runny nose, but the kids didn’t know that. They just wanted to get high.
So they just kept coming back time and time again.
It was good for business, but Jerld still had a goal, he wanted to be known as the dealer with the best and the most. If and when that ever happened he would then be able to deal quantities, and would be living on easy street for the rest of his life, with a lot of nice “Bitches” and nice “Rides.
The white kids in the Pontiac returned and started to pull up to the curb. Jerld motioned to them to drive around the corner and park on 25th.

They did, and a young male in the passenger seat rolled down the window as Jerld walked over and leaned in. The driver was holding a sawed off shotgun, and it was pointed right at Jerld’s nose.
The passenger said, “Don’t move your black ass one inch or your dead.” Jimmy had moved away from the car and had returned to the corner to watch Jerld’s back. Jerld just stared into the both barrels of the shotgun, which looked like two small cannons pointed directly at his face.
The driver said, “Give me all of your dope or I will give you a new face.”
Jerld could see out the corner of his eyes that there were two very young teenage girls in the back seat and they were giggling and slapping each other as if they were laughing at a funny joke they had just heard.
Jerld thought, “Man this ain’t funny.” They had parked right in front of a boarded-up building and the plywood had several knot holes that had been punched out, fallen out, or had rotted out from age. This was J & J’s corner they knew every inch of it and could see it with their eyes closed.
The passenger said, “Didn’t you hear the man? We want your dope or your shoulder pimple is going to be splattered all over that plywood.” As he motioned with his head toward the boarded up building.

Jerld’s legs were trembling, and it wasn’t from the cold that had bothered him so much a few minutes ago. He felt like someone had just kicked him in the groin and his balls had come up into his throat and were trying to climb over his tongue to get out. Jerld looked for Jimmy and could only see the tip one of his shoes without turning his head. It looked like they were miles away, not just the fifteen or twenty feet that it actually was. Jerld had been sizing up his would-be killers, as he stood transfixed. He stood very still not moving or doing anything that would make this white kid a hero in his friend’s eyes, by having killed a nigger.
Jerld had heard that there were families down in Kentucky that go nigger hunting just for fun on Saturday nights. He didn’t want to make these two punk-ass kids heroes in their “Cunts’ eyes. And sure as hell he wasn’t going to give up his dope to them or anyone else.
The driver looked to be anywhere from fifteen to eighteen years old. The passenger was probably a little older. Neither one of the little “Back Seat Bitches” could be much over fourteen years old.
It was very cold out, and the tank tops that these little “Prick Teasers” wore were white, and almost see-through, their tiny nipples showed their excitement.

The two in the front seat were typical “Crackers” they each had on a cowboy shirt and wore boots and Levis.
Both had what looked to be belts with buckles as big as the pancakes Jerld’s momma made.
The only difference between them was one had a double barrel cannon in his hand and that hand was starting to shake.
Jerld thought to himself “Think of something quick or your going to be a sidewalk lollypop for some stray dog.”
“You Crackers had better think twice before you come up into this nigger’s face with a gun in my town” Jerld said in the coldest and calmest voice he could summon up.
There was a quick look of fright on the driver’s face.
Jerld continued. “Do you see that plywood over there?” He said, gesturing with a sideward nod of his head toward the boarded-up building.
“You punk-ass kids want to shoot me, do you?”
“Each hole that you see in that wood over there has a loaded scatter gun behind it, pointing right at all your white asses and this ratty old piece of shit you’re driving.”
“If you want to check it out pull that fucking trigger, you dumb ass hillbillies, why do you think I had you pull around the corner and park here.”
Jerld could see the questioning fear in their eyes. The little “Tits” in the back had quit slapping each other and were sitting with their hands in their laps, just as if their mothers had often told them to do, “Sit up straight and be good”.
There was no doubt that the “Big Heroes” in the front seat were now frightened shitless. Jerld leaned further into the car and grabbed the barrel of the shotgun and wrenched it out of the driver’s hand. As he was pulling it out, he took the butt and hit the passenger right in the middle of his forehead. Blood flew; it splattered all over the front of the driver’s shirt and made it look like it was made with red and white poke-a-dotted material.
The two petrified bitches in the back seat let out a sound that could only be described as a whimpering, silent scream. Blood decorated their hair, face, arms and legs. Their white t-tops were covered with splatters of every shape.
The passenger groaned and rolled down onto the floor and gagging and gurgling sounds spewed out with the blood as it dripped on the floor.
In the same motion he turned the gun around and pointed at the driver and said, “Get out your money and I want it all. If I find out you are holding out on me I will blow your asses back to Kentucky.”
All four of the would-be dope robbers grabbed for their pockets.

They started handing their bills and change to Jerld just like a cashier at a drive through window. It kept coming from one hand or another. The driver grabbed the passenger’s; who was stilled curled up in a bloody pile on the floorboard, wallet out of his back pocket and handed it to Jerld. Jerld was surprised without counting it; it looked like they had given him several hundred dollars.
Jerld stuck the gun in the driver’s neck and said, “You should have been out of my town yesterday, get your asses back to Kentucky before you find out what us northern niggers do to hillbillies on Saturday night.”
Tires shrilled like a referee’s whistle as the driver slammed his foot down on the accelerator. As the car pulled away, from the back seat came a cry of shear terror. It faded away like the siren of a passing fire truck.
Jimmy quickly turned around and saw Jerld standing there with a shotgun in one hand and a hand full of money in the other.
Jimmy came running over with a quizzical look on his face and said: “What happened? I can’t leave you alone for a minute.”
Jerld just looked at the hand full of money and said, “Business is good Jimmy, Business is good”

Chapter two will be posted Aug. 26, After 6PM