The Weight Part 2

"Could I see your right forearm?" the lawyer asked me.

I pulled back my sleeve to the elbow. He motioned for me to turn my hand so he could see the underside. He couldn't be looking for track marks-otherwise, he'd have wanted to look at both arms.

"I knew knew it," he said, nodding like he was agreeing with himself. it," he said, nodding like he was agreeing with himself.

"What?"

"No tattoo. The victim said the man who raped her had one. Big one. Right forearm. She didn't get a close look, but she remembered it had a lot of red in it."

"So I'm off the-?"

"Experienced rapists always use them. Decal tattoos, I mean. It's the kind of thing victims remember."

"Yeah. They've got an answer for everything," I told him, remembering what the black cop had said about me wearing a rubber.

"But you still want to roll the dice?"

"What's the difference?" I said. "I'm going anyway. I was carrying when they grabbed me."

"Operable?" he asked. Showing me he'd handled carrying-concealed cases before. But telling telling me something else: that the DA hadn't exactly opened their files for him, like he thought they had. me something else: that the DA hadn't exactly opened their files for him, like he thought they had.

"Yeah," I said. "With one in the chamber."

"You know they're going to write it up that the safety was off, right?"

"For once, they wouldn't be lying if they did. But I guarantee you there's nothing on that gun. Brand-new. Never been fired."

"You're sure sure of that?" of that?"

"Bet my life," I told him.

That would have been a safe bet. Solly always supplied the hardware on his jobs. I remember one time when one of the crew Solly put together wanted to bring his regular carry piece. Said it was his lucky lady. "That's no lucky lady," Solly told him. "In fact, that's no lady at all."

Before the guy could say anything, Solly s.n.a.t.c.hed the piece out of his hand and held it up under the lightbulb hanging in the bas.e.m.e.nt where we were meeting. "What's this hold, about nineteen rounds? Where're you even gonna carry it, f.u.c.king monster like that? You're planning on a gunfight, swell. But this this job, it goes right, n.o.body shoots at all." job, it goes right, n.o.body shoots at all."

"Sometimes-" the guy started to say.

"Sometimes isn't this this time. That's what I get paid for. On my jobs, every man carries the same. Show him, Sugar." time. That's what I get paid for. On my jobs, every man carries the same. Show him, Sugar."

I took out the one Solly had given me. Short-barreled, kind of ugly.

"Ruger in forty-five," Solly said. "Whatever you hit with this, it's not getting up. The only thing that 'lady' of yours would be good for is a firefight. You want one with a SWAT team?"

"I still don't see why we all have to carry the same-"

"Because one one guy also carries a little bag with him. That's Sugar. Soon as you start work, Sugar puts the bag down, opens the zipper. There's two hundred full magazines in there. guy also carries a little bag with him. That's Sugar. Soon as you start work, Sugar puts the bag down, opens the zipper. There's two hundred full magazines in there.

"You all carry the same, so you all got your ammo supply right there. Every round checked before it went into a clip-you're not gonna have to worry about jams. Even better, n.o.body has to worry about what the other guy's carrying. That's because none of mine mine got a past. Pure virgins, every single piece. got a past. Pure virgins, every single piece.

"See, that's no lady you're carrying, my friend; that's a wh.o.r.e. And you know wh.o.r.es: if she'll sell her p.u.s.s.y, she'll sell you. Get it now now?"

I wasn't going to tell the lawyer about that. But there was something he'd need to know. I figured I might as well get it over with. "Only thing is, the serial numbers were-"

"Not good," the lawyer said. "Even worse if they make a call to ATF." good," the lawyer said. "Even worse if they make a call to ATF."

"You on the panel for the Federal Court, too?"

He gave me a look. I just looked back.

"I am am on the CJA Panel," he finally said. "But that's not the point. Whatever you know about that gun, they know, too, by now. No matter how you play it, being caught with it wasn't a good thing for you. But it's not good on the CJA Panel," he finally said. "But that's not the point. Whatever you know about that gun, they know, too, by now. No matter how you play it, being caught with it wasn't a good thing for you. But it's not good enough enough for them, either." for them, either."

"How come?"

"Carrying, that's a felony hit all by itself, sure. But it'd be a long long way to turn it into another violence beef. You didn't way to turn it into another violence beef. You didn't do do anything with that gun," he said, making it a question. anything with that gun," he said, making it a question.

"I never even pulled it," I said. "But it was ready to go."

"Maybe someone had been threatening you?"

"That's it, all right."

He was quiet for a minute, making a thing out of reading some papers he had with him. He looked up, said: "That gun, it was a regular carry piece?"

"You mean, did I walk around with it, or just happen to have it that particular day?"

"Okay," he said. Meaning, he wanted to see if I could guess what the right answer should be. If I was going to tell a story, it'd have to be a good one.

"Ever since I started getting those threats, I never left home without it," I said. "I've been shot before; it'll be on my records."

He flashed me just enough of his teeth for me to see he took real good care of them. Then he started looking through a bunch of papers he had with him, like he had all the time in the world.

I guess he did. They pay these 18-B guys by the hour. And it wasn't like I had anything better to do.

Finally, he made a little motion for me to put my face close. He wrote something on his yellow pad. I looked: NEVER VOUCHERED NEVER VOUCHERED is what it said, in tiny letters. is what it said, in tiny letters.

I moved my lips real slow, so I could say what I wanted without making a sound: "The piece?"

"It's not anywhere in all this," he said, running his pen over what he'd shown me. He really worked at it, crosshatching the words into a black blob, but he made it seem like he didn't realize what he was doing. "Of course, it doesn't have have to be. Like I said, I haven't filed any motions-they gave me all this without me even asking. And now I think I see why." to be. Like I said, I haven't filed any motions-they gave me all this without me even asking. And now I think I see why."

"It's a card they're holding back?"

"No. Listen." He leaned toward me again; I did the same toward him. He spoke so soft I could barely hear him: "The rape, it wasn't gunpoint; the guy put a-"

"Shut. The. f.u.c.k. Up!" Up!" I said. Just moving my lips like before, not making a sound. But he heard me. Heard me good. I said. Just moving my lips like before, not making a sound. But he heard me. Heard me good.

"What's your problem?" he said, backing off. "I'm just trying to-"

"Yeah, I know. But right now I could walk in and pa.s.s any polygraph they got. Sure, the operator's going to tell me I failed, see if that gets me to confess. But they'll they'll see I'm not lying. That's why I talked to the cops for so long after they picked me up. I figured, sooner or later, they'd ask me, since I was innocent and all, would I mind taking the test? I had the surprise all ready for them, but they never took the bait." see I'm not lying. That's why I talked to the cops for so long after they picked me up. I figured, sooner or later, they'd ask me, since I was innocent and all, would I mind taking the test? I had the surprise all ready for them, but they never took the bait."

"That wouldn't be admissible-"

"I know. But it's something something, right? They started with the registered s.e.x offenders. Stupid f.u.c.ks: every joint's got plenty of rape artists who pleaded to burglary, so there's all kinds of s.e.x fiends who wouldn't even be on that list. I figure, if she stopped when they got to my picture, they probably didn't show her any more more pictures." pictures."

He nodded.

"Then, when I went in the lineup, she was looking for the guy who matched the picture, see?"

"Right. And that's exactly what we'll be saying. But why don't you-?"

"It's not much, but it's something something. If you start telling me the details, that'll mess up the test...if they ever decide to give me one. I don't know how the girl was raped because I didn't rape her."

He leaned forward. "Straight up?"

"Hey, the cops already know know I'm not the guy. At least the last two detectives I talked to, they know." I'm not the guy. At least the last two detectives I talked to, they know."

"If they know..."

"They know because they know something else. I mean, I was doing doing something else when that girl got raped." something else when that girl got raped."

"Ah."

"Yeah. My alibi buys me as much time as a rape would. In this this state, probably more." state, probably more."

He raised an eyebrow, asking me a question. This guy knew there's things you don't say out loud, even when you're talking to a lawyer.

"Not that," I said, drawing my finger across my throat, putting distance between myself and any homicides that might have gone down during what the cops call the "critical period" when they're investigating a murder. Probably their idea of a joke.

"So ...?"

"So this: if they show the girl more pictures, she might change her mind. Except for this"-I touched the scar that ran down from my forehead through my right eyebrow-"the only thing that stands out is that I'm a big white guy with two different-colored eyes. The guy who actually did the rape, he's done a lot of them."

"How could you know that?"

"How come she never saw his eyes? How come they don't have a single d.a.m.n drop or fiber or hair or-?"

"A pro, you're saying?"

"There's no such thing as a pro rapist. A pro works for money."

"No offense," he said, giving me a weird look. Like what did I I have to be offended about? He was slick about the law maybe, and he could talk some of our talk, but now he was working without a map. He couldn't know I have to be offended about? He was slick about the law maybe, and he could talk some of our talk, but now he was working without a map. He couldn't know I wanted wanted people to say, "Sugar's a real pro." Some people, I mean. But this guy wouldn't understand that. He didn't know the people I was talking about. He didn't know our life. people to say, "Sugar's a real pro." Some people, I mean. But this guy wouldn't understand that. He didn't know the people I was talking about. He didn't know our life.

"She saw what he wanted wanted her to see," I told him. "Probably one of those masks on his face. Maybe contact lenses. But how was she gonna miss a guy with two different-colored eyes, like me? So, if they were to tell her I pa.s.sed a polygraph, it might be enough. Anyway, if I have to go on trial, better it's for something I her to see," I told him. "Probably one of those masks on his face. Maybe contact lenses. But how was she gonna miss a guy with two different-colored eyes, like me? So, if they were to tell her I pa.s.sed a polygraph, it might be enough. Anyway, if I have to go on trial, better it's for something I didn't didn't do." do."

He leaned closer to me. "That scar, it's not that visible, even up close. But, you're right, there's no way to miss your eyes." He touched the right side of his pencil-line mustache. Manicured nails, no rings.

"I'll get back to you," he said.

Rikers never changes. Neither do the people who keep taking that bus ride. Some worked on not looking scared, others worked on looking tough. The only guys you have to watch are the ones who look bored.

The same Inside, too. They keep you separated while you get "processed," but you could still hear voices calling out what they were going to do to you as soon as you got out of the fish tank. Some of the first-timers tried shouting back at them. Most of us knew better than to waste our breath on cell gangsters.

The first test was always Population. This time, it happened real quick. Some greasy little punk half my size says, "What they call you on the street, ese? ese? In here, you got to pay to stay. Otherwise, what they be calling you is the other white meat, In here, you got to pay to stay. Otherwise, what they be calling you is the other white meat, comprende comprende?"

"Azucar," I said, smiling at him.

"What?"

"You asked me what people call me on the street, right? So I just told you...ese."

His boys were all watching, but they weren't close enough to hear anything. Maybe he was a prospect they were testing. He pulled up his shirt to show me he was carrying, but I knew he wouldn't go for it. He'd just tell the crew watching him that he'd warned me off and I'd gotten the message.

I left him a good out on purpose. Inside, if you take a man's dignity in front of his own people, he has has to go for you, right that second. He doesn't do that, he's got no backup, ever again. to go for you, right that second. He doesn't do that, he's got no backup, ever again.

But I also know what happens if you let anyone so much as tap tap your commissary, never mind turn it all over. So I tried to practice what Solly's always telling me: the older you get, the weaker your body, so the only way to balance out is to grow a stronger mind. your commissary, never mind turn it all over. So I tried to practice what Solly's always telling me: the older you get, the weaker your body, so the only way to balance out is to grow a stronger mind.

Giving that punk an out, it was the same as me driving weight. Building myself bigger. Adding to the armor.

This was my third time on the Rock. First time, it was short-stay before I went Upstate. The second was that ninety-day joke. This time, it was going to be just like my first.

Except for the testing. When I was a kid, my size-and I was real big, even then-that didn't mean anything. Plenty of big guys roll right over when they see steel.

But n.o.body ever really pushed that hard. I even knew a few guys I had been locked up with before. Maybe they spread the word a little, I don't know.

So buying that shank this time, it was more about the message. The guy I bought from, he was AB, so I knew they'd know they'd know. I hadn't dealt with coloreds; that was good. But I hadn't asked to join up, and that could mean anything.

I knew flashing it would be all wrong. That's a rookie move, not something a pro does. Besides, the guy I bought it from, he'd take care of letting the word get around.

My first time in happened because I made a lot lot of rookie mistakes. Me and a couple of older guys, we figured, how is a fence ever going to run to the cops? That was before I knew some of them stay in business by switch-hitting. of rookie mistakes. Me and a couple of older guys, we figured, how is a fence ever going to run to the cops? That was before I knew some of them stay in business by switch-hitting.

I was seventeen. I wanted to be a heist-man, not a mugger. The fence wasn't any big-time guy. He ran a garage over by Shea Stadium, under the bridge. The way it worked, you drove your swag over to him; he'd close the doors, look over what you had, and tell you what he'd pay.

We had a little panel truck one of the other guys took right out of a parking lot. He picked us up and we threw in a bunch of empty cartons. Big ones, like the kind TVs come in. I sat next to the driver, and the third guy was in the back. While the fence was waiting for the guy in the back to open the boxes, I just stepped out and yoked him until he went limp.

When he came to, he reached for the phone.

My Legal Aid said I was being charged with strong-arm robbery. All that means is n.o.body showed a weapon.

He kept talking about a YO-that's Youthful Offender-like it was the greatest thing in the world. The way he ran it down, if the judge would give me a YO, my record would be sealed. That way, it couldn't be used against me if I ever got in trouble again.

He said "again" like it was a sure thing.