Crazy Summer (21 page)

When he called her over to him once more, her heart fell into her stomach.
Not again.

After being shot, Jermaine was taken to University Hospital, but he was also in the custody of the Richmond County Police Department. The bullet had entered his cheek on one side and exited his upper lip. Inside the hospital room, he laid in silence, staring blankly toward the ceiling. His left wrist was cuffed to the metal rail of the bed.

Surrounded by two homicide detectives, and after answering a page full of questions, he finally said, “I’m tired.”

“You should be!” one detective shouted. “And I guarantee you that the both of you are going to prison.”

“Can I make my phone call now?” Jermaine didn’t sound the least bit nervous.

Neither detective answered him. They just left without saying a word.

The authorities knew Jeremy was a few weeks short of turning fourteen years old. They knew this, but they still held him in a holding tank at 401 Walton Way. He hadn’t been allowed to make a phone call either, and from the cell he was being held in, he could see a clock on the wall and knew it was a quarter till twelve. He stood up, his face pressing against the Plexiglas. His breathing made a small area of it foggy. When an officer walked by, he kicked the door. The female officer looked more like a mother than a police officer.

She looked at Jeremy, and out of anger, he yelled, “Can I please make a phone call?” 

Without any hesitation, she removed her keys and began opening the door.

*****

When Summer left the club, it was one o’clock in the morning. Broad Street was live for the moment, but she was tired. She got to the curb and paused when a glossy black Hummer H2 pulled up in front of her. Since the windows were tinted, she had no idea who was inside. The passenger door opened, and to her surprise, Kiki hopped down from the high SUV. The first thing she noticed was the Glock in his waist. He didn’t make any effort to hide it either.

“Can I walk you to yo’ car?”

She shrugged. “Yeah, if you want to.”

Kiki wore his hair in dreadlocks, and he was thin with long, boney fingers.

“Have you eaten yet?” he asked her, his eyes unreadable.

“I’m full from chicken fingers and fries.”

They walked in silence a little while before Kiki looked at her and said, “You gotta let me take you to dinner or somethin’.” He paused and then said, “I mean, a broad like you got a lot of quality. And when I say broad, I don’t mean it in a derogatory way. It’s jus’ a figure of speech.”

He stopped and grabbed her hand. She turned and looked at him.

“You got a nigga or what?” 

She took a deep breath. Really, she was at a loss for words. Her eyes began searching his. She felt something wasn’t right; the look he gave her made her flesh crawl.

“Jus’ give me one opportunity,” he said.

She adjusted the strap on her handbag, her eyes never leaving his.

“I’m sure you got a lady friend at home.”

He cleared his throat, and a light grin played across his face all at the same time. “Fo’ one, my lady wouldn’t be fixin’ no drinks at a strip club.”

“Well, I don’t need a man who has to go to strip clubs for entertainment.” 

As they continued toward the rental car, Kiki didn’t let go of her hand. She looked back. The Hummer was still creeping slowly behind them. For some reason, she knew they were his security guards or something like that. They couldn’t have been just a regular crew. When they reached the rental car, she removed a set of keys from her bag.

“How can I get in touch with you?” he asked.

She smiled shyly. “I’m not really situated yet.”

“Well, I’ma be your guardian angel.”

She laughed. “You silly.”

“I’m serious. I’m diggin’ you fo’ real.”

She opened the car door, and the interior light illuminated Kiki’s face.

“I’ll be here tomorrow,” she said. “Give me a number where I can contact you.”

He pulled a small business card from his pocket and handed it to her. She carefully examined it. There were three numbers–– house, cell, and business.

“So you got your own record label?”

“Somethin’ like dat.” He took her right hand, brought it up to his lips, and kissed it. “Call me when you get home, so I’ll know you made it safely.”

“I’ll do that.”

She got in the driver’s seat and started the engine. Kiki closed the door and looked at her through the glass. She caught his stare, which said a lot, or at least to her anyway. She pressed the button to lower the window. This time, she grabbed his hand and kissed the back of it. He was definitely surprised and couldn’t help but to grin.

“I’ll talk to you later,” she said.

Kiki nodded and headed across the paved lot where the Hummer waited for him.

When Summer got to the apartment, Lil’ Danté greeted her at the door with a sadden and concerned look.

“What’s wrong?” she asked him.

“Da twins in trouble, Mama.”

“Where they at?”

“Jail.”

Just then, the phone rang, startling Summer. Her hands began to shake nervously as she turned and went to answer it. She snatched it off the hook.

“Hello.”

“Mama?”

“Where y’all at?” Her voice trembled, and her hands had started sweating.

“I’m at da hospital. This is Jermaine.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “What happened?”

After that question, Summer held the phone for almost twenty minutes. She listened carefully, and her heartache so bad that she felt as if she was about to pass out. Now her mind was racing in all directions. She ran her fingers through her hair and sat down at the kitchen table. With the cordless phone still pressed against her face, she started crying. This wasn’t a dream; her boys were in deep trouble, and she didn’t know what the hell to do.

“Can I come see you tonight?” she asked.

“The police said I can’t get a visit yet ‘cause they still investigating the case.”

Another let down followed by another deep breath. Her eyes were filled with inexpressible sorrow. She thought about the situation briefly.

“Where did you get shot?”

“In my left jaw,” he replied. “But, I’m alright, though.”

Her eyes closed again. “Is an officer there with you now?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Let me speak wit’ him.”

There was a short pause.

“Officer Riggins speaking,” a deep voice said from the other end.

“Hello,” she said politely. “I would like to know what my boys are locked up for.”

“As far as I know, they are being held for murder and aggravated assault.”

Silence fell over her followed by more nervousness. A lump formed in her throat, but she still managed to speak. “Are they both charged with the same thing?”

“As of now they are.”

“Thank you. May I speak back to my son, please?”

“His time is up,” the officer said.

“I just need to tell him one thing,” she pleaded.

“Make it fast.”

Jermaine’s voice boomed through the phone. “Mama.”

She had started crying out of control. “Do you know what y’all about to put me through?”

He couldn’t respond.

“Do you, dammit?” 

She hung up and broke down. Calling Kiki was the furthest thing from her mind now.

*****

The following morning, Summer took Lil’ Danté to the boxing club and dropped him off. He asked her if he could go with her as she went to handle the problem with his older brothers. However, she didn’t hesitate to refuse his offer. She promised that she’d take care of it. He stepped from the back seat with a leather backpack on his shoulder, closed the door, and walked around to the driver’s side window. Summer pressed a button to roll it down, then faced him to look him in his eyes. A smile formed in the corners of his lips.

“Come back and get me if you need me,” he told her.

She leaned out the window and kissed him. “I’ll always need you,” she said happily, and then added, “You be careful, okay?”  She glanced into her son’s eyes.

He nodded, then jogged across the front lawn of the building and into the doors. Before pulling off, she watched him until he went inside.

Thirty minutes later, she pulled in front of a lawyer’s office on Telfair Street that looked more like an antique house that had been remodeled. She turned off the engine on the rental and waited briefly on the passing cars before she opened the door. Summer grabbed her large handbag from the passenger seat and quickly stepped out into the scorching heat. She went around the car and up a set of steps that led to a neatly decorated wooden front porch. She opened the wooden door and entered. There was a secretary sitting at a high desk to her right. She was shocked to see the lady was black and very professional looking. She flashed Summer a beautiful smile.

“Good morning,” she chirped in a low tone. “How may I help you?”

“I called this morning. McKey.”

“Yes. I’m the one you spoke with,” the secretary said in a pleasant voice.

Summer grinned, but she wasn’t cheerful whatsoever on the inside. “Is he in right now?” 

The secretary raised a finger. “Hold one second,” she said while picking up the phone.

Summer scanned the neatly decorated office. There were tall brass baseball trophies displayed in the background.
Probably her kids’
, she thought. The secretary finally hung up the phone and flashed her best smile at Summer again. She pointed to her right.

“The first door on your left.”

Summer smiled, nodded, and quickly moved down the carpeted hallway. The door was already opened. A short, stocky attorney stood waiting for her and extended his hand across the desk. Summer shook it.

“Good morning,” he said, then pointed to a comfortable chair. “Have a seat.”

Summer sat down and so did he. She crossed her legs and stared into the lawyer’s eyes.

“First off,” she began, “I’ll need you to look into their case.”

Eugene Wesley III, the lawyer, was very professional looking and had neatly trimmed facial hairs. He carefully looked over a newspaper article about the twins’ case. There were no names on the two considering their age. Summer watched him nervously as he scanned the newspaper. She was praying that he could help get her sons off the hook.