May approached me after lunch. “Hon, you’re gonna have to say somethin’. You can’t ignore this. You tell them not to do it, they won’t do it. They look up to you. They’ll 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 full-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 still packed when May and I entered it and, again, everyone’s eyes swiveled to me.
May clapped her hands and announced, “Quiet, ya’ll. Eyes on Law. She’s got somethin’ to say. Clarice, you turn off that TV. We need your full attention.” When Clarice, a heavyset, sixteen year old black girl that I’d pulled from The Mall a few months ago flipped off the TV and all eyes had locked on me, May turned to me and said, “Go on, hon. Tell it like it is.”
I didn’t know how to tell it like it was but I looked at the kids staring at me and I knew I had to try.
“All right, folks, listen up,” I started. “We hear you talking about going out, thinking to avenge Park, but I’m telling 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 normally find, I’ll 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 all 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 called 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 called out.
“I don’t know, maybe at church, praying for his sins,” I replied.
Some kids laughed. One kid called 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 f**king awesome,” Curtis called out, ignoring my word-is-law voice.
“Yeah and she shot at Clarence, right by his foot. Swear to 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 f**k. Martin, don’t say shit.” Then I addressed the entire room. “This conversation is over.”
I was losing their attention. Something had caught it and several of the kids were looking toward the door.
I forged ahead to finish my point. “I’ll say it one last time, not one of you goes on the streets looking for trouble. You do…” I hesitated, not used to badass threatening then I remembered what Vance said to me when I aimed at his Harley, “there’ll be consequences.”
They weren’t paying attention at all anymore. Most of the kids were staring at the door, some with wide eyes, some with mouths hanging open.
“Sweet baby Jesus,” May breathed from beside me.