Free Tutored by Allison Whittenberg Page B

I was lucky to make it out of there unscathed. Those mean and nasty people. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”
    “Dad, I just talked to Hakiam on the phone. It’s not the end of the world.”
    “Hakiam? What is a Hakiam, anyway? It sounds like a disease. What’s the matter with John or Matthew or Thomas?”
    “Your name is Thomas.”
    “Exactly. That’s a nice American name.”
    “Any name can be an American name, Dad.”
    “Hakiam sounds utterly ridiculous.”
    “What do you think of Malikia, Dad?” She had to ask.
    “That sounds like a disease too. A terminal disease.”
    “Oh, for God’s sake.”
    “Who’s Malikia, anyway? Is that his baby mama?” her father asked.
    “He doesn’t have any children.”
    “He doesn’t have any children
yet
.”
    “Well, neither do I.”
    Her father’s eyes became as round as pancakes. “Did you sleep with him?”

21
    “W hat you looking at all those white people for?” Leesa asked, standing squarely in front of the TV with her hands firmly planted on her hips.
    He was on the sofa with Malikia underneath his armpit. Hakiam did his best to look around Leesa.
    “If it’s one thing I hate, it’s an old black-and-white movie with nothing but white people in it,” Leesa said. “Why are you watching this?”
    “Wendy suggested it.”
    Leesa gave an exaggerated “Ohhhhhhhhhhh,” waved her hands in the air in mock fanfare, and went back to blocking his view.
    “Will you get out the way? You ain’t made of glass,” he told her.
    She stepped aside for a few moments and asked, “What’s it called?”
    Hakiam told her he was watching
Twelve Angry Men
.
    “What do they got to be so angry about?”
    Hakiam didn’t answer her.
    “What’s it about?” she asked.
    He sighed. “A jury.”
    “A jury, huh?” She watched the screen for a few minutes. “Why ain’t there any women?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Boy, I hate black-and-white movies with white people. And angry white people, please. That sounds like some bullshit.”
    “I heard you,” Hakiam said, motioning for her to get out of the way.
    She held out her hand and said, “I’ll get out of the way. You better not have used none of my Netflix.”
    With his view now unhindered, he got back into the movie. It was at about the twenty-minute mark, and it was really starting to boil. Having been to court a few dozen times, Hakiam was interested to see how things worked on the other end. He always wondered just how those deciders decided. He’d seen them emerge from their back room looking either severe or carefree, but what was the process? Was their debate intense like this movie would have him believe? Or was this all some Hollywood version of reality, and most jurors didn’t give a rat’s rear? Hakiam guessed the latter but was sucked in all the same.
    The movie also played fast and loose with one indisputable fact: courts were never about guilt or innocence; courts were about guilty or not guilty: There was a big difference. That was the fantasy angle of the film, right up there with
X-Men
. Hakiam thought of all the timeshe’d been taken in for things but couldn’t prove he was innocent, versus the times when the charges had been dropped because they didn’t have enough evidence to prosecute. In light of that, it was almost comical to see the main character in the movie bring up what-ifs, how-abouts, and suppose-thats left and right just to try to save the poor kid’s sorry ass. Real life wasn’t like that. People got off on technicalities. People got convicted by momentum.
    Leesa came back into the room carrying a bag of potato chips, and Hakiam perked up. “Did you go shopping?” he asked.
    Since her mouth was full, she just shook her head no.
    “When you do, remember the baby’s running low on formula.”
    “Just water it down, Hakiam. Jesus Christ, what do you want me to do, hold your hand?”
    “The can says to use two full scoops.”
    “You ain’t got to