this group, see. They’ll—they’ll help me, and I need to make sure I do it and stuff, and I just need you to go. I don’t have anybody to help me like that, anybody who cares, and see I know you do. You, you told me I could do this and that it was hard.”
“Okay, okay man. Alright.”
“I need to get dropped off, my car, I don’t…I don’t really have a car anymore. I had to sell it because…um because.”
“Okay, I got my keys right here. Where are we going?”
“My bag and stuff is downstairs, it’s…it’s under my car.”
“I thought you didn’t have…you said your car wasn’t working.”
“I know—just help me, okay?”
“Well, why don’t you spend the night here and I take you in the morning?”
“NO, no! It’s got to be done now,” he said, grabbing my arm and jerking me.
I wasn’t really sure what was going on with him. Taking him to a facility where he could detox seemed like something I was down to do. True, in an ideal world it would be great to do it the next day, but if he was that determined to go get help, that urgent, I had to do everything in my power to stand beside him, get him there and push him through the door. I didn’t know how addicted he was, but I was sure excited to hear him say that he wanted to get some help. When we got down to my car he asked me to open my trunk. I was down with helping him move some of his stuff but he was very firm and determined.
“I can drive, too, since I know where I’m going.”
“Man, please. I don’t even think you can walk a straight line let alone drive my car. Man, please.”
“Alright, alright.”
I didn’t know much about the Southside of Atlanta. I knew it was an area that I didn’t want to get caught in at night. I wasn’t saying I was afraid of somebody jumping me, but I mean, it just wasn’t smart for me to be out riding in a sort of flashy car up and down the projects.
“Where is this place?” I asked him as we drove through some apartment complexes that looked abandoned.
“It’s…it’s just up a little bit. See, I got to go get some more of my stuff.”
“So…Wait a minute, wait a minute. Where are we going? Don’t give me no bull. Don’t feed me no junk. I’m supposed to be taking you to some house and…what you trying to get me involved in?”
“I’m just picking I’m just picking up something. Come on Perry. Alright, it’s this house here, pop the trunk.”
Already there, I was just pissed. I popped the trunk and sat there as he jumped out, grabbed the bag and went up to the house. It was the weirdest thing to me—if he was going to pick something up, why in the heck did he have to take a full bag inside? Yeah, something wasn’t right and before I could start up my car and leave I heard the police say, “Freeze. Get out of the car, man, get out of the car. Get out right now.”
I got out of the car with my hands in the air and was forced to the ground. Angry as could be, I wondered why in the world I let my gut allow me to follow Mario in the first place. Could I get out of this? Because whatever this was, it was a mess.
“Okay, get him out of here,” a guy sounding like he was in charge said to the two cops that were holding me. They shoved me into a police car and drove around the corner. The next thing I knew we had stopped. Not like they were taking me to the police precinct, not like they were reading me my rights, it just seemed unorthodox. I was a football player, not a detective, but I was smart enough to know they weren’t going about everything the right way.
“Hey, I get a phone call or something,” I yelled out. My cell phone was in my pocket. If I needed to push PLAY and record everything that was going on I was willing to do it. I was not going to be abused.
“Alright, listen. We’ve been following Mario Shruggs for quite a while. We’re not here after you, but we’ll prosecute if you don’t cooperate.” The heftier guy leaned forward and