Free Street Justice by Trevor Shand Page B

“I’m sorry,” Devon answered louder this time.
                  “What are you sorry for?”
                  “Ma’am, I told you I wouldn’t be in here again,” Devon said, looking back down at his hands.
                  “So what happened?” Katie thought about reminding him of eye contact but she knew Devon legitimately felt bad and she didn’t want to be too hard on him. Devon was a good kid, he had a good heart, just no direction or support. His mother was usually partying, hopping from one self-serving pleasure to another, and his father had never been around. Katie was not even sure Devon’s mom knew for certain who his father was.
                  “I don’t know, I was just hanging out with some friends, and you know…”
                  “No I don’t.” Katie needed Devon to walk through his own decision process so together they could identify steps where he could have done something different that would have kept him out of her office.
                  “I needed to gets a present for my mom. It was her birthday and I ain’t got no money,” Devon started to explaining. Katie noticed how his speech and mannerisms changed as he talked. The more he talked about what he did on the street, the more he slipped into the character that he played while out in the streets. That he had to play when he was out on the streets. Gone was the well-spoken, polite young man she knew he could be. Instead he became just another grinder slinging dope.
    Devon continued, “So I needed some ends. Then a friend sez to me he’s picked up some extra product…”
    “What product?” Katie knew. She knew Devon’s past history if it wasn’t in the file already, but she wanted Devon to acknowledge what he was doing.
    “Product? Oh yeah, blow.”
    “What’s that?” Katie pushed.
    “Cocaine,” Devon said, though a bit quieter than he’d said either euphemism.
    “Continue with the story,” Katie directed him back on track, “how did you get here?”
    “Well, like I said, my boy said he had some extra product , so he sez to me, “help me move this and I’ll give you five percent,”  Devon looked up and caught Katie’s eyes as he said, “But I told him, I wasn’t gonna be sellin’, I’d watch out or something but not sellin’. Usually we give that to the little kids but he knew I needed the bones so he agreed.”
    “So what happened?”
    “So we got to my boy’s corner and started grindin’, you know sellin’. Well, I’m down at the corner and I have to take a piss. So I signal I’m off, they send some kid to cover my post and I goes down the alley and piss. As I’m finishing up, I see the boy they had watchin’ for me race past the alley entrance. So I hustled back to the corner and the po-po got my man all jammed up against the wall.
    “Well, I notice that it’s all going down at the far end of the block. But I knowed my man stashed the drugs at my end. So I figured I’d do him a solid and grab the stash and take off. That way, either they can’t finds it and has to let him go or they bust him, but at least he doesn’t lose his stash. So I goes and grab the bag, turn to run and run right into some cops legs. He’s sneaked up behind me. He grabbed me before I could run and now they pinned this on me when all I was doing was trying to help out a friend. That ain’t right.”
    “But Devon, do you see where your problem rests?” Katie asked.
    Devon shifted in his seat, thought for a moment then protested, “But ma’am, I was just trying to have my boy’s back. You’ve got to on the street. He has my back, I have his.”
    Katie took a deep breath. She knew this sense of mutual trust was a survival mechanism in Devon’s world. His traditional support roles, his parents, were not an option. His dad was unknown and his mom spent all of her time partying. So he formed a sense of family with those around him, those in a