Free Endangered by Jean Love Cush Page B

through. When you were that age and Grandpop was already gone, I stayed on my knees, asking God to protect you and keep you safe.” She shook her head. “It’s worse now. These young mothers today, they’re all alone raising these babies. They don’t know what to do. They need help. You can help that boy.”
    â€œBut you know I’m not interested in criminal law. You know my plan. I’ve been talking about it for years,” Calvin said, agitated.
    â€œI know, honey. You want your own law firm. You want to make a lot of money, and you want to use it to get me out of this dump.” She grinned playfully, then turned her body to take in the full view of the kitchen.
    â€œAnd what’s wrong with that?”
    â€œYou already are successful. The only thing missing is a wife for you and great-grandbabies for me,” she teased.
    Calvin’s eyes strayed upward to the kitchen’s low ceiling. He shook his head slightly from left to right. “Not that again.”
    Grandma Pearl’s face straightened, and she patted Calvin’s hand. “Baby, don’t you know that no one else around here has done what you have done? No one.”
    He tried to think of a childhood friend who made it; just one name of one friend who was living better now than how they were raised. A decent wage, an intact family, something to show that Roger and Grandma Pearl were wrong. But he came up short. Every single one of his childhood friends was either dead, strung out, or working jobs Calvin wouldn’t have wanted even as a college student desperate for money.
    Calvin shook his head. “The point is, I don’t want to do it.”
    â€œWhy not? What’s the worst thing that could happen if you help a boy not go to jail? That’s the most honorable thing you could do with your law degree, is help your own community. You’ve gotta help him.”
    â€œYou don’t understand, Grandma.”
    â€œThen help me get it. I can see this is eating you up. What is it?”
    Calvin rubbed at his brow. “Here, wait a second.” He walked to the living room, where he’d left his briefcase on the floor, leaning against the sofa. He returned to the kitchen with Roger’s files and spread them out on the kitchen table. “Grandma, he wants to compare black boys to animals. He wants me to say that they need to be protected because they are like animals that can’t help themselves. He has all kinds of statistics to support his argument. Most black children are born to unwed mothers.” He pointed to the statistic and shook his head. “Seventy-four percent of them. That’s crazy. And if the fathers are absent, they’re poor. All of these factors contribute to the high prison rate, which is compounded by the inherent racial bias in the criminal justice system.”
    â€œThey? Them?” She questioned him with a face of steel. “You mean we, us .” Grandma Pearl put on her reading glasses, which hung from a silver chain around her neck. She walked over to him and looked over his shoulder at the papers in the file. She picked up reading where Calvin left off.
    â€œ ‘Black children are more likely than white children to be abused, have a parent in prison, end up in foster care.’ ” She stopped reading. Her voice became thick with emotion. “Baby, that’s where I found you , remember?” She shook her head, forcing back tears. “Your mother left you in filth, without decent food to eat, just so she could go on a drug binge. It was so cold that winter. I’m just glad I found you when I did.”
    She walked back to her seat, holding on to the table as she went.
    â€œGrandma, I’m not saying he doesn’t have a point. It’s all here. Black children—boys in particular—are in serious trouble. I get it. But comparing them to animals ?” He shook his head. “I don’t believe that