“Girl, you’re workin’ on becomin’ famous,” she smiled and let me go.
Famous was not what I was going for but I figured infamous was more where I was headed.
I went in search of Sniff and Roam and found them in their bedroom.
I stuck my head in and said, “I want you both here al day.
Later, we’re going to talk.”
“Hey Law,” Sniff cal ed. “Fuckin’ cool what you did last night.”
I gave him a look. “Stop saying fuck,” I told him.
Sniff grinned.
I looked at Roam. He was smiling at me.
I couldn’t help myself, I smiled back.
*
It was nigh on impossible to get any work done. Kids and col eagues alike approached me. Some asked flat out if what they’d heard about last night was true (those were my kids). Some skirted the issue and looked at me like I might be a touch crazy (those were my col eagues). I did my best to talk it down, making it sound like your normal, average, everyday drive through town in the middle of the night when you coincidental y find yourself running into two drug dealers and confronting them in an al ey with a Glock (though I didn’t mention the Glock).
Furthermore my mind kept racing forward to that night, when I was going out with, and then getting laid by, Vance Crowe. I stil hadn’t come up with a delay tactic and the flight to Nicaragua was looking more and more appealing as the day wore on.
I took two appointments with kids, cal ed a couple parents, did some paperwork and, along with the talk of my adventure last night, I heard the whisperings that the kids thought it was so cool some of them wanted to try it out for themselves. This was regardless of my warning to Martin and Curtis.
I wanted to ignore it and hope it was al talk but it was beginning to become clear that I wouldn’t get that choice.
May approached me after lunch. “Hon, you’re gonna have to say somethin’. You can’t ignore this. You tel them not to do it, they won’t do it. They look up to you. They’l listen to you.”
I looked at her not certain she was right. The kids never listened to anyone. My word might be law in the Shelter; it didn’t hold the same weight when it came to the street.
Then I looked across my cubical to Andy, the other ful -
time social worker. He heard May and silently nodded his head. That’s when I knew May was right.
Damn.
I pushed back my chair.
The rec room was stil packed when May and I entered it and, again, everyone’s eyes swiveled to me.
May clapped her hands and announced, “Quiet, ya’l .
Eyes on Law. She’s got somethin’ to say. Clarice, you turn off that TV. We need your ful attention.” When Clarice, a heavyset, sixteen year old black girl that I’d pul ed from The Mal a few months ago flipped off the TV and al eyes had locked on me, May turned to me and said, “Go on, hon. Tel it like it is.”
I didn’t know how to tel it like it was but I looked at the kids staring at me and I knew I had to try.
“Al right, folks, listen up,” I started. “We hear you talking about going out, thinking to avenge Park, but I’m tel ing you right now, you’re not going to do it. I see any of you kids on the streets, getting into different kinds of trouble than you normal y find, I’l shut you down myself. Got me?” I was channeling Crowe Speak to make my point.
Nothing gets the word across like talking like a badass mother when they thought you were a badass mother.
They al just stared at me.
“Got me?” I snapped.
The door opened but I ignored it thinking that it was just more kids arriving.
“Where’s Shard?” someone cal ed to me. “He ain’t on the streets. Is Nightingale torturing him?”
“Yeah, you bring ‘em down and the Nightingale guys take
‘em in and make ‘em pay. Is that how it is?” someone else threw in.
I looked at the ceiling then I looked at May then I looked back at the room. Where did they get this shit?
“No, the Nightingale Investigation Team is not torturing Shard,” I answered.
At least, I didn’t think they were.
“Where is he then?” another kid cal ed out.
“I don’t know, maybe at church, praying for his sins,” I replied.
Some kids laughed. One kid cal ed out another question.
“You flip Jermaine like they said? Kick him in the nuts?”
“I’m not discussing what happened last night,” I said in my word-is-law voice.
“She did, it was fucking awesome,” Curtis cal ed out, ignoring my word-is-law voice.
“Yeah and she shot at Clarence, right by his foot. Swear t o God, he jumped like a spider. He was all freaked out.
Thought he’d shit in his pants,” Martin added.
“Boys, quiet. Curtis, don’t say fuck. Martin, don’t say shit.” Then I addressed the entire room. “This conversation is over.”