Don't Blame the Devil (20 page)

D
elilah had the look of someone who'd just gotten caught shoplifting but didn't know who put the items in her bag.

She heard someone tell her to put down her weapon. What weapon? She didn't have a weapon, she had a rock, and it was still in her hand.

If someone had offered Sister Marty a million dollars to explain why she made the next move, she'd die a pauper. Without all the fuss and pageantry—the niceties and just plain old common sense—Sister Marty took a few steps and lunged at Delilah.

Delilah hit the ground hard enough to make sure grass would never grow in that spot again, and the rock fell from her hand.

Then it took all the restraint Sister Marty had to leave the rock where it landed and not crack Delilah upside the head.

But Delilah had only wanted to make sure Thurgood was safe, and possibly crack the young man's skull for good measure.

Sister Marty had probably saved Delilah's life when she jumped her. That had to mean something to somebody.

It certainly meant something to the cops because they arrested Sister Marty right along with Delilah.

Sister Marty faced charges of interfering with police business. The cops didn't like it when she threw herself at Delilah and kept them from shooting the woman who'd disobeyed an order. After reading them their rights off of an index card and cuffing them, they place Delilah and Marty in separate patrol cars.

From the time the cops put the cuffs on her and placed her inside the patrol car, Delilah cussed, screamed, and acted like a professional fool. She showed no evidence at all of deliverance through earlier prayers. “But that's my husband!” Delilah kept on trying to tell the cops that she was “the wife.” They, of course, thought she was delusional. Every cop around knew Deacon Pillar was single.

Police procedures required Jessie to answer a few questions right there at the crime scene and turn in his weapon. He knew the drill. “I'll meet you downtown,” he told the detective. “I'll piss in a cup for you when I get there, and I know I need to file a report immediately.” Jessie tried to keep it professional. He had to walk a fine line, especially since he was on a medical leave of absence.

“Hey, Jessie.” Another detective walked over and shook his hand. “I know you took that young thug outta here with that shot. When he comes to, he'd better send you a thank-you note from whatever nut-hotel they put him in. You ended any hope for an NBA career when you knee-capped him.” The detective stamped out a cigarette he'd dropped to the ground. “Oh, by the way, Pillar's okay. He won't let the EMTs take him to the hospital.” The detective stopped and rested his arm on Jessie's shoulder. “Man, I can't believe that old rooster had two women ready to go down for him. I've known Deak practically all my life and I can't pull half the women he has.”

The detective treated the situation as routine because under any other circumstances, it would have been. But not that night, especially when a deranged young man had caused Jessie to shoot to protect a man he loved, who could possibly be his father.

“Daddy!” Tamara raced toward her father. “Daddy, I don't believe all this.” Tamara almost collapsed into her father's arms. “They won't let me speak with Deacon Pillar. They've arrested Sister Marty and they almost Tasered Delilah before they got her cuffed. All I could do was watch.”

That was pretty much all Jessie could do, too. The patrol car carrying Delilah drove by. He hugged Tamara to him as they watched what looked like a bad B movie. There was Delilah being Delilah. She was still hopping up and down in the backseat between two detectives, like a bobble-head doll. He was tempted to leave her locked up, wherever they took her.

By the time the police finally got Delilah to central booking in downtown Brooklyn, Delilah had raised more hell than the devil allowed. On the other hand, Sister Marty, charged with police interference, kept her cool and prayed. They were like Paul and Silas, but locked up in two different cells.

Although Jessie was supposed to go downtown immediately and follow through with the rest of police procedures, he needed to take care of Tamara and the deacon first.

“Here comes Deacon Pillar.” Tamara had hardly gotten the words out before she shook loose from Jessie and ran to the deacon.

“I'm fine, baby girl. You know it takes more than some punk with a gun to ruin my night.” The deacon's walk was a little slow. He'd lost count of how many times in the last week he'd fallen on the same hip, but he hadn't lost his sense of humor. “I can't wait to talk to your father. He shot that fool before I could punch him in the mouth for talking about my conk.”

And with that, by the time Tamara and the deacon reached where Jessie stood, the two had calmed down a bit.

“Deacon Pillar,” Jessie began. “I'm sorry, Deacon.”

“Sorry is what that precinct is gonna be if we don't go and check on your mamas.”

“You're right,” Jessie replied. “Tamara, do you want to come with us or go to Pastor George's house and wait? I'm sure they won't mind.”

“I'll go. Just in case you two wind up needing bail money, too. I still got your credit card on me.”

“Well, we need to get a move on,” Deacon Pillar said. “Should we go to the precinct or to the courthouse? I don't know if either of them will make it to night court or not.”

“We ain't that far from central booking. We might as well start there.”

No sooner had they arrived, than they discovered they didn't need to make a decision. They ran into one of the detectives who the old deacon had mentored by paying unnecessary child support for years.

“Glad to see you, Deacon Pillar.” Detective Gonzalez pulled the deacon aside. “Look, I've done everything I can to keep that old woman from getting her butt Tasered, or worse. But if she throws another punch, I'm afraid there'll be one coming right back at her. I don't know what her problem is.”

“Damn that woman!” Deacon Pillar didn't bother to ask which one of the women Gonzalez meant. He already knew.

Both the deacon and Detective Gonzalez spun around. One look at Jessie told them he'd overheard the conversation.

“He looks familiar. Is that Officer Jewel?”

“That's Delilah's son, Jessie. You might wanna hold off on Tasering that old gal for a second.”

The detective walked over a few feet and offered his hand. “Officer Jewel, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that about your mother.”

“That's okay. To know Delilah is to want to Taser Delilah.”

The deacon tried to laugh it off, but the detective didn't know what to make of Jessie's statement about his own mother.

“She could've been released already,” Detective Gonzalez continued, “but one minute she's talking about Jehovah guiding her and the next, she's talking about her lying, cheating husband who thinks he's so saved. We don't know whether to take her directly to Kings County psych ward, or wait for day court.”

Jessie looked at the deacon and the deacon looked at the floor.

After listening to more of what Detective Gonzalez revealed, they knew Delilah was just being her old self. Delilah's hissy fits and determination not to cooperate had calmed down a bit. But it wasn't enough for her to be allowed to see the deacon and Jessie. They'd tried several times but couldn't.

 

Delilah wasn't totally alone in her holding cell. Her self-destructive imagination kept her company. At that moment she was angry with herself and disappointed with her beloved Jehovah.

“I could've been in my own home, Jehovah. But no, You just had to let me find my family and a cheating husband. You shouldn't have let me love them so much if they wasn't gonna love me back. They don't even want me around.” She fought back tears as she walked about the empty cell, talking loud. “And these folks here took my good clothes, too.” She tried to straighten the ugly, ill-fitting orange jumpsuit they'd insisted she wear after her arrest. But she was Delilah Dupree Jewel and hadn't gone down without a fight. She was somewhat grateful that the Spanish detective had kept one of the female cops from wrestling her to the ground. She didn't have that many clothes to rip and tear.

And then, just that quick, Delilah smiled as she remembered that she'd even fought them as she tried to read the label inside the jumpsuit. It was important that she know the designer of that ugly outfit.
Why couldn't those dumb cops see that?
she thought.

“Damn Thur-no-good Pillar!” she blurted.

“Miss Jewel?” Detective Gonzalez approached her now with more understanding. From what Deacon Pillar and her son had revealed, apparently there was a lot of family drama going on. It didn't excuse the way she acted, but it did explain a lot. He'd learned she was a sixty-three-year-old woman without family; at least without one that she believed wanted her. She'd actually risked her own life last evening and she ended up in jail. Perhaps she had a right to be angry with the world.

“What the hell do you want now?” Delilah hadn't turned around to face the man. She didn't plan on it, either.

“I'll dismiss that,” the detective replied. “I just thought you'd want to know your family is here and you'll make day court, it seems.”

“My son and granddaughter are here?” Delilah spoke as she turned to face the detective. She recognized him as the same one who'd kept the other cop from using the Taser on her. And she saw Jessie, who stood next to him.

“I'll let the two of you talk.” Detective Gonzalez turned and walked away without looking back.

D
elilah's sudden outburst of tears surprised Jessie. He'd expected to find the same defiant, pint-sized woman who gave the world hell on a moment's notice, if she had to. He gave her a moment before he spoke. “I'm going to go to court with you.”

Delilah wiped the corner of her eyes with the back of one hand. “Why?”

“We're all camped out upstairs….”

“What do you mean, camped out? And not that I care much, but how's Thurgood and Martha…Marty, whatever her name is?”

Jessie chuckled.
Lord, this woman is something else.
“They're okay, but the deacon—well, he looks sadder than you. I had emergency prayer with him before that detective brought me down here to see you.”

“You did? How long has he been upstairs? They don't even have a clock down here where I can tell time.”

“Hmmm. Let me check. It's almost eight-thirty in the morning.”

Jessie began to offer Delilah words of comfort. He walked her through the process of what would happen, or what should happen if she behaved, once she got to court. When that conversation was exhausted there were another few moments of silence between them. But it didn't last.

“Jessie,” Delilah said softly, “I've made a decision.”

“What decision?” Jessie asked with a great deal of caution. If Delilah did nothing else, she kept him on his toes.

She picked at something invisible on her jumpsuit. It was all she could do to keep calm. “I've decided to tell you everything. I don't want to leave anything out, but when I'm finished you might think me a coward.”

“I can't even imagine you being a total coward.” He still hadn't forgotten she'd abandoned her duties as a mother. But this wasn't the time or the place for that discussion. At least for him it wasn't. “Go ahead, Delilah, I'm listening.”

She decided to forgo challenging him for referring to her as being not a total coward. If she didn't speak now, she didn't know when she ever would. “I'm your mama, that you can believe. But I want to start off by telling you my real name. And then I'm leaving….”

He felt agitated and began to only half listen. He could've told her that he already knew she'd married the deacon, but he didn't. He wasn't sure if that was true anyway.

But if he didn't believe Delilah, he had to believe the officers who appeared to take her away.

One of the police officers called out, “Delilah Dupree Jewel-Pillar.”

They were the same officers who'd arrested her. They arrived to take Delilah to court and were prepared for a possible battle. They didn't get one.

Jessie stood stunned as he watched Delilah handcuffed again and led away. She'd actually told the truth about something.

 

Inside the courtroom Delilah did everything she was asked. She answered only the questions put to her and she did so with deference. By the time Delilah finished her court-room performance, the judge was ready to throw the book at the district attorney for filing a false report on the sweet old lady.

However, the judge didn't totally absolve Delilah of all the charges. After all, she did fail to obey a police order, which could've resulted in a very different outcome for her. And there was that little thing about resisting arrest, which was a big no-no.

“…Although I've not witnessed the anger testified to by the police officers involved in the fracas, I'm not going to render any jail time besides the time—or in your case, hours—already served. You'll be given an ACD: adjournment in contemplation of dismissal. However, I'm of the mind to also have you examined to see if there is need for anger management.”

The judge signed a few papers and asked for both the district attorney and Delilah's court appointed attorney to approach the bench.

After a conference that lasted about two minutes, during which the district attorney spent most of it huffing and puffing, the judge turned back and addressed Delilah.

“Miss Jewel-Pillar, it is the verdict of the court to have you attend an anger management class. The number of times you will attend will be no less than five but no more than ten, unless it is deemed necessary, in which case you will return to court and the court will revisit the charges. It also appears that your actions have led the court to wonder if you would be a danger to yourself as well. A woman of a certain age shouldn't be deliberately tossing her body around in such a manner as you have, no matter the circumstances.”

Delilah looked from side to side, trying to determine who the judge was talking about. She knew for certain the old and balding Dick Cheney look-alike wasn't talking about her.

And as if he'd read Delilah's mind, the judge called her, again, by her name. “Now, Miss Jewel-Pillar, in order for the court to release you today, instead of holding you over until you've been evaluated further, I'm releasing you to your family.”

Delilah's jaw dropped.

But Jessie's opened and he mouthed, “Thank you, Your Honor.”

The entire time Delilah was in court, she never saw an already-free Sister Marty seated between Tamara and Deacon Pillar. She'd probably had been rearrested if she had.