This white lady came to see me at the detention center. I ain’t even know she was coming and I’m in the gym doing some reps and they tell me I got to go down to the first floor for some interview. Anyway, I been through this before back in January and I figure it can’t be no worse than that because that time they kept me in there for what seem like days doing some kind of head test one after the other, asking me all kinds of questions till I felt like… I don’t know… I was just straight up angry, know what I’m saying?
So here we go again but I had a little natural high on from the workout so I told myself to be cool, not like the last time when I got a attitude and I know that young bitch wrote down every damn thing I said or did in her little book like I was her home work project or some shit. Anyway, like I said this white lady, she’s older and walk up to me and told me her name, asked me was I Jeremiah Jenkins and I say, yeah and she reaches out her hand and we shake hands like we was at a meet ‘n greet somewhere. So I turn the light on in one of them interview rooms and ask her which side of the table she want me to sit at and she said either one so we sit down cross from each other.
She explain she have to ask me some questions so I can get some more services, that’s the word she use, like counseling or therapy, from the same place where Miss Jones work at who’s been coming to see me since I got locked up again. So I guess that’ll be awright since Miss Jones is cool with me even though I don’t see why I need somebody besides her but when you get locked up like that you just got to do what people say do and not ask too many questions or act like you ain’t cooperating. So I’m giving this white lady all kinds of eye contact, looking dead in her face and doing my best to pay attention to what she be saying. Like I said, I’m feeling pretty good from the gym so I’m not getting too agitated like I be sometimes, at least not yet.
It ain’t nothing but the same ole – same ole with her questions like she want to know stuff about my family background, you know how they ask their questions real polite like you ain’t going to figure out they want to know if anybody in your family ever been crazy an shit or if you ever felt like you want to kill somebody. Naw, naw, not me, I never had a thought like that in my life. It don’t matter what I say anyway because she already got the whole rap from that young bitch back in January but I ain’t giving up nothing I don’t feel like talking about like when she say something about me calling my aunt my mother. Well, shit, yeah, she raised me since I been a baby, what I’m supposed to do, call some lady I ain’t never even seen that I can remember, call her my mother? It ain’t like I remember being fifteen months old and somebody telling me she got shot behind some witness protection situation. All I know is she name me out the Bible and I seen some pictures of her, this pretty brown-skin woman with a big smile. They say she drank and smoke before I was born but people say a lotta shit don’t necessarily be true.
I don’t remember nothing about her anymore than I remember nothing about my old man, shit, nobody even know who the mug is in the first place and I know they got that all wrote down in all them records and reports too. Father unknown. I seen that shit before. I know what I’m talking about. But you got to sit there an act like you real interested in the same damn questions over and over again. Same shit, different day. But like I said, I don’t want to do nothing to mess up my parole; I already got kicked back on a violation this time just from laying up in that crib with Keisha that weekend and my mom have to go and tell my probation officer.
So when the white lady ask me if I’m sexually active I tell her, yeah. That’s one question in her little interview I ain’t hesitate about and have no trouble telling the straight up truth about. I mean, my eighteenth birthday about to roll around in a few weeks, what she think, I’m trying to be some kind of boy scout or some shit? Anyway, she ain’t make nothing of it except to give me a little lecture about the AIDS epidemic and how it’s scary out here and telling me I’m a young man with a whole long life to live and I need to take care of myself. Like I’m supposed to think she really give a shit. But okay, like I said, I’m-a be a good boy and say yes and no and shake my head and go along to get along so I can get the hell out of here.
It was almost funny when she ask me if I have a hard time paying attention sometimes and that girl Deja was walking across the lobby with her probation officer and I couldn’t help myself staring at her ass but the lady don’t say nothing and act like she don’t even notice I can’t hardly pay attention to nothing she be saying, but anyway, I got myself together and we went on and finished what we had to do. I don’t even know if she believe me half the time but the one thing I did give up to her was how angry I get and don’t know why. I don’t know if she think I’m crazy or if the other young bitch wrote down in her report that I’m crazy and should be locked up in St. E’s but maybe somebody can do something about the way I get so angry I don’t even know what I be doing or saying. I like to kill my little brothers, I mean, she know they ain’t my blood brothers, they my cousins, but I been raised with them, I mean I was in the house first since my mom – I mean, my aunt – took me so I wouldn’t get put in no foster care. And then those little punks came along and act like they own the place when they ain’t nothing but babies. They got a pops ain’t much better than mine, but at least they know who he is and he come around once in awhile.
Maybe everybody gonna miss me when I go to college like I’m planning on. I just gotta get things straight so I can graduate and not mess up my parole. I didn’t mean to hurt the little punks for real but they get on my damn nerves and sometimes I got to show them who’s boss around there. You watch, when I’m gone everybody’s gonna say where’s J, when he’s coming backl You wait and see. But maybe I won’t come back once I get over there to West Virginia, once I get myself together and show everybody I can make something of my life, no matter how all this shit got started, I can be somebody.