Endangered (13 page)

Chapter Nineteen

JANAE AND CALVIN PULLED ONTO PARKSIDE AVENUE IN PHILLY AT JUST after two thirty. She had always wished she lived on this block because it bordered the park. The trees were bare now, but during the summer they were a lush green.
If you just focus on what's in front of you everything else just falls away
.

Very little conversation passed between Janae and Calvin since Roger left them at Amtrak's 30th Street Station's platform, even though Calvin tried.

Janae felt ill at ease with Calvin, what with his education, his expensive suits, his manicured nails, and his hair so precise, so fresh, it looked like he just got up from the barber's chair.

“Just so you know”—and she spoke as if she was continuing an ongoing conversation—“Kim, the woman we are about to talk to, is on drugs.
I'm
not
on drugs,” she added, her palm pressed to her chest.

“Really?” Calvin's voice shot up an octave. “That's good to know.”

Unsure, Janae widened her eyes. “Did you really think that maybe I was?”

“Of course not, Janae. That's the complete opposite of what I think of you.”

She scanned the area as she unfastened her seat belt. Without the foliage to help disguise the community, she saw the same blight, the same men who lived for the corner.

Janae felt like she owed Calvin an apology for that, or at least an explanation. His presence here magnified everything these men were not. He stood out in a sea of black males like an exotic flower in a bouquet of dead ones.

“I don't know what is going to happen in there.” She sighed. “Um, Kim has something I need. I need to talk to her. It's not like she's my girl. We don't roll like that or anything. She's my best friend's sister. I just need to talk to her.”

“Don't worry about me,” Calvin said as he tugged on his blazer, releasing the confining hold the seatbelt had on it. He killed the ignition. “I'm fine. Are you?” he said with a raised brow.

“Whatever,” she mumbled, almost too low for him to hear.

When Tameka let Janae and Calvin inside her home, it was clear that she was upset. Her eyes, lips, and nose had all migrated to the center of her face. It was as if she had sucked on lemons all morning. Spending time with Kim was tough for Tameka. It would have been worse if Keith were there: Kim had a way of coming around and disturbing the peace and security Tameka provided for him.

Shortly after examining Calvin, Tameka's attitude began to loosen. She studied the attorney's good looks and fine clothes, then glanced at Janae with wide eyes full of expectation.

Janae diverted her gaze, trying to ignore her.

Tameka turned to lead them farther into the house when she nearly knocked over a chair.

“Hi,” she squeaked. “I'm Malik's godmother, Tameka.” Her smile was so broad it looked like she used every muscle in her head—and some in her gut—to pull it off.

Janae rolled her eyes.
He ain't that damn fine.

“Thanks for making this happen,” he said with a smooth smile.

She shrugged her shoulders. “Oh, it's no problem. Anything for my girl.”

“Where is she?” Janae asked anxiously.

“She's in the bathroom. I almost made her keep the damn door open.” She threw up her hands. “We can only hope that she is still in good-enough condition to talk to you.” Tameka turned her back to them and called out, “Kim. Kim. Janae is here. Come on!”

In the past, Kim had had stretches of sobriety that filled Tameka and the rest of their family with hope, but something would always happen, a moment of weakness, a family crisis, that was just too much for Kim to bear. In the blink of an eye it seemed she was back in the grip of her addiction, each time losing a little bit more of herself.

A figure appeared in the living room archway. Kim's gaunt body and oversized clothes made her look prepubescent, and as if death was hovering over her. She smiled thinly, revealing yellow teeth, and gaps where teeth used to be.

“Hey,” Janae offered. Her eyes fluttered, fighting back tears, as she wrapped her arms around Kim. The drug addict smelled of cigarette smoke, musty, dirty hair, and another odor, the stench of decay.

Kim's exhausted body sighed deeply in the comfort of Janae's embrace. Janae released her at Kim's first effort to pull away.

Calvin moved closer to Janae. His presence was comforting. He extended his hand to Kim, thinking of his own mother. “Hello, I'm Calvin Moore. I'm Malik's attorney.” His hand competely engulfed hers. “We just want to talk to you about the night of the murder,” he said softly.

“That's why I'm here,” Kim said with sass, her eyes focused on the floor. Shaking, she moved over to the sofa and sat down.

Calvin followed her. He pulled out a legal pad and pen. “Just start from the beginning and tell us everything you observed that day, whether you think it was important or not, okay?”

“Okay.” Staring at Tameka, she spoke slowly, reluctant to share the details of a life consumed by drugs. “Well, I don't know . . .”

“Does anyone want something to drink?” Tameka interrupted, nearly jumping off the sofa. “Coffee, tea, water?”

“I'll have some tea,” Janae said.

“Me, too,” Calvin said. “Thanks.”

Tameka walked out of the room.

As soon as Tameka was out of sight, Kim opened up. “I was on the corner, looking for a way to get a hit. I didn't have any money, I was just there. If you're not buying, the dealers don't want you around. It's not good, you know, because of the cops. Anyway, they didn't say anything to me that day. It was like I wasn't even there. They weren't the only ones on the corner.” As an afterthought, she added, “Troy and Malik.”

Malik and Troy
. Janae had used those two names together as she yelled from her bedroom for them to turn down the volume on the TV. She had used those two names to inquire if they wanted something to eat while they hung out in Malik's bedroom.

“The news had it all wrong. They made it seem like Troy and Malik were fighting.”

Calvin and Janae looked at each other with hopeful eyes. “They weren't?” Janae asked.

“Naw. Not really. Troy calt him a ‘pussy,' and Malik got pissed. Malik pushed him, knocked him down. But Troy was just trying to protect him. I know it,” she said excitedly, like she was in the midst of solving a puzzle.

“Shaun G come around, looking for new guys to do the selling. If the faces change, 5-O don't know what's up. Get it?” Calvin nodded in understanding. “Anyway, Malik was, like, new blood. No one had claimed him, and Shaun G wanted him to work for him. But Malik had the nerve to say no. That's when Troy stepped in. He flagged Malik. Called him a ‘pussy,' like I said. He told Shaun G he could do better than that. He had to make it seem real. But I could tell. Malik didn't look like he knew Troy was protecting him. And Shaun G, he don't like ‘no.' He'll kill you.”

Janae nodded ferociously. She breathed deeply as if she had just surfaced from a thousand-foot dive. Her eyes fluttered open and closed, as if taking in something profoundly beautiful. “So what you are telling me? You are telling me,” she repeated, “that Troy was trying to protect Malik? You can prove Malik didn't do it.”

“Let her finish what
she
has to say,” Calvin interjected, like a car coming to a screeching stop.

“But she just said—”

“No. Let
her
finish.”

Janae massaged her brow to soothe the onslaught of an instant headache that pounded wildly there.

“What is your
problem
?” she snapped. “She just said—”

Before she had a chance to finish, Calvin was on his feet. He took her by the arm and escorted her into the kitchen.

Tameka was busying herself, making beverages for everyone. “Um, I was just about to bring this out to you.”

“Could we have a moment alone?” Calvin said.

“
O-kay
. . .” she said, and looked at Janae with questioning eyes.

As soon as Tameka's second foot crossed the threshold, Janae turned to Calvin. “Why are we in here? We should be out there talking to Kim.” She stabbed at the air with her right arm in the direction of the living room. “She just proved Malik's innocence.”

“No. No, she has not,” he said in a voice that came across to Janae condescendingly.

“But, she just said Malik didn't do it.”

“No. That is not what she said. That is what you heard. I still haven't heard anything that I can actually use at the hearing. It's all speculation—what she feels, what she believes. Let's allow her to speak, and then, hopefully, we can get something we can use.”

It was as if fire had darted from her eyes and mouth and singed the hell out of him. Speechless, she shook her head, then stepped backwards out of the kitchen, her eyes fixed on his. He followed her.

“Are you ready?” Kim said, enjoying the newfound attention, and shifted herself forward on the sofa as they walked back into the room.

“Troy never threatened Malik with a gun, and Malik damn sure never threatened him. Troy did push Malik and told him to get his punk ass out of there. But I tell you, he only did that for Malik's own good. After bitchin' some Malik left. And that's when things got hot. I was scared shitless. I was afraid to move, scared I might make a sound and they see me. Shaun G told Troy that ‘you messed with my money for the last time.' He said something like Troy didn't get to pick and choose who worked for him. That he should just focus on not getting his ass caught by the popo. Anyway, Troy brushed him off. That pissed Shaun G off even more. That's when he pult a gun out.”

“Whoa,” Janae said.

“Well, he didn't take it out. He lift up the front of his jacket and a gun was stuffed in his pants. He asked for his shit. Troy passed him a few baggies. Shaun G told him to get off his corner or he was going to blow him away, right there. Troy laughed like he didn't give a fuck. He mumbled, ‘You trippin.' Shaun G's hand was still on the handle of his gun. He looked up and down the street, and then left with his lackeys.”

“So what does all this mean?” Janae blurted.

Calvin was on his feet, hurriedly gathering his things. He tore himself away from his thoughts begrudgingly and looked back at Kim. “Just for the record, did you actually see it? Did you see Shaun G take out Troy?” he asked Kim.

Kim shook her head wildly. “Naw. He threatened to kill him, though.”

“What does all this mean? Can you use any of this?” Janae asked again, robotically.

He raised his right index finger to Janae with his eyes closed. Ideas, arguments, counterarguments were flowing effortlessly through his mind. Calvin had the acumen to create an arrangement of words that could convince even the most rigid of judges.

“Look, I need to know something! What are you thinking?” Janae begged.

Returning to the present, Calvin opened his eyes, focusing in on Janae's worried face. “This is good. I'll explain everything to you. This is good. I just have a few more questions for Kim and then we'll be done.” He shifted his body toward Kim. His head lowered a bit so he could look at her face more closely. “What are the names of any and all the young guys who were with Shaun G? You know, the ones who followed after him.”

“Oh, that's easy,” Kim replied eagerly, feeling important. “There was Little John John . . .”

“What?” Tameka said in disbelief. “That's Sandy's son. That's crazy! How in the hell would she just not say anything?”

Janae shrugged her shoulders.
Why didn't I hear any of this from Malik? Had he given up on himself already at just fifteen
years
old?

“Who else was there?” Tameka took over the questioning.

“Just one more. Loretta's son, Michael.”

“Are you sure?” Tameka frowned in disgust. “Loretta's son? He's only ten, eleven max.”

Kim threw her hands up, feeling the sting of her sister's question. “That's who was there. I swear, I am telling you the truth,” Kim exclaimed, feeling more alive than on her best high.

“That's even better,” Calvin said.

“Why? The little boy is ten, eleven. That's disgusting that somebody would use him in that way,” Tameka stated.

“My point exactly. If you think he is a boy, then there's no leap in logic to assume his mom still considers him her baby. If we can get the two of them in the same room, we could scare the hell out of both of them, and I am sure we'll find out exactly where to find Shaun G. How well do you know her?” Calvin asked.

“We're . . . friendly,” Tameka said, stretching her words as she searched for the best description. “She's older. She went to high school with my brother, and he has five years on me. I think she may even have a couple of years on him. She lives around the corner and down a bit. I see her every now and then. We'll stop and talk. Haven't seen her in a while, though.” She paused. “Actually, the last time I saw her was around the same time Malik was arrested. She said she was sick of all the violence, said something about wanting to move down south before her boys became teenagers. Maybe the slower pace would do them some good.” Tameka shook her head. “This whole situation”—her voice trembled as she waved her hands back and forth, like windshield wipers—“is a damn shame. We have one boy dead, Malik in jail, and two others that are possibly involved. This is crazy,” she moaned.

Janae sat quietly.
When does a child stop seeing the wonder and possibility of life? When do they stop seeing good, stop hoping for
the best?

“This is bigger than Malik,” Janae said to no one in particular. “If it weren't Malik in jail, then it would be some other boy. Some other child's life ruined. Roger really is on to something, isn't he?” She turned to Calvin with questioning eyes.