15 years later –

RICH:

Why his father felt the need for him to be a public defender was beyond him. He hated representing low-lives. Mostly hated representing the same drug dealers who were caught over and over again, then had the nerve to feel like the world owed them something. Hello, stop selling drugs, dumb ass. Get an honest fucking job. His father was a Philadelphia State Representative and he represented parts of South Philly, where they grew up. The plan was for him, Rich Jr., to become a State Senator and represent other parts of South Philly, to keep it ‘together’. The best way, according to State Representative Richard Wells, Sr., was to be a public defender because a lawyer working in the private sector would be frowned upon. Especially if he decided to run for the Senate seat or any seat for that matter. South Philadelphia was made of hard working people and specifically blue collars workers. They did not always embrace white collars and especially those that rubbed it in their faces. So even amongst your own kind, one could be considered an outcast.

Richard Wells, Sr. was a smart man and knew the best way to work the system. He sent Richard Jr., now Rich to the Pennsylvania State University (Penn State) to study Political Science. Once he finished undergrad, his father paid for him to go to law school at the University of Pennsylvania (U Penn). These were the best schools that offered the most elite programs, according to Richard Sr. They were also his alma maters. It could have been perceived that he received special privileges and if a party was busted or things got out of hand, he was a politician’s son and his father contributed significantly to both universities. Rich didn’t get into much trouble because while his father was accommodating and would use his power to make things go away, he also would provide serious punishment to his son when he was young. The punching stopped when he got to college, but the other disciplines started if he messed up. Cutting off his credit cards, disabling his car, having it towed, showing up after his classes to tell him he was a failure and didn’t deserve the family name or legacy. Rich tried to stay on the straight and narrow because his father was more lethal than anyone would ever know.

He often wondered how his mom dealt with him or if the father he knew was a result of his mother’s death.  Rich often thought he was that way because his mom died so early leaving him with a son to raise alone. Therefore, he would take his frustrations out on him. He had only seen pictures of his mom at his aunt's house because his dad did not have them posted anywhere. The older he grew, the more he realized how much of a problem this was. The only thing he knew about his mom was what his Aunt Anna had told him. She was beautiful, humble and a world changer. Her passion was education, but she stopped working when she married his father. She had no siblings and her family was from North Carolina and migrated to Philadelphia, which was years before she met Richard Sr.

His father never talked about his mother. Rich could not recall a time when he uttered her name or even acknowledged that she existed. When he was young, Rich made the mistake of telling his father that he wanted to visit his mom’s family in North Carolina. He had bruises for two weeks after that suggestion. That meant he also never recognized that his mother existed. At least in that house. Rich’s only hope was that, his mom, Margaret Wells, was at peace and no longer in pain from the cancer that took her so soon. 

******

COURT ROOM 5

Rich put his papers in a folder and stood tall, waiting for his next client. This boy was picked up for stealing food from a corner store. He mentally shook his head. Some things just did not make sense to him. Rich thought he probably took some candy when he just did not want to spend the dollar. The judge picked up the gavel and banged it on the desk.

“Next,” he croaked.

In walked a Hispanic looking teenage boy, who did not look any older than 14. He was accompanied by a tall black woman with brown skin, full lips, arched eyebrows, long lashes, and shoulder length straight hair. Rich estimated she was around a size eight or ten, had an impressive rack and a round ass that looked perfect in that pencil skirt. Everything on her looked good; the stockings, high heels, off white blouse that loosely fit her and a red scarf wrapped around her neck. Her spring jacket was draped over her arm and she walked in with purpose. She probably wasn’t related to the boy, but he could see that the boy trusted her because he reached out for her hand, which she quickly grabbed as they walked down the aisle of the courtroom.

Rich looked down at her hips, which despite that loose blouse, he could see swaying back and forth flawlessly. The woman looked like she was floating down the aisle. They finally reached him and he pulled his eyes away from her hips. What was wrong with him? He held out his hand and said, “Hello, you must be Ricardo?” The boy nodded. “I’m Mr. Wells, your lawyer.”

He felt the woman’s eyes on him. “So, petty theft, corner store, what do you plead?” Rich said in a low voice.

The boy looked at the woman and asked, “Guilty?”

“You need to explain the circumstance,” she nudged her head towards Rich.

Rich chimed in, “No, I don’t need the details, right now I just need to know what to tell the judge. Guilty or not?”

The woman’s eyes had focused on him, before she said, “What? You do need to hear the circumstance because the judge needs to understand the case so he can receive some leniency.”

Rich’s patience, at that moment, started to run short with the combination of her questioning him on how to do his job and realizing she was a sympathizer.  “Listen ma’am, they all have excuses why they did what they did. However, right now, I’m going to assume he did it because he has an excuse and right now, you are going to let me do my job.”

She reeled back as if he had smacked her in the face. Then she pulled Ricardo behind her and scolded, “You must have lost your damn mind. One, for thinking you could talk to me like that and two, for not taking your clients,” she emphasized, “concerns and situations seriously. You will not be representing him and,” she picked up his card from the table and said, “I’ll be sure to spread the word about your bias about anyone like him. Since they,” she held up both her hands to make air-quotes, “all have excuses.”

He grimaced at her words. Who the fuck did she think she was talking to, was his question. Then she walked passed him and said to the judge, “Your honor, my apologies, but Ricardo here,” she pointed to the boy, “is going to need other representation. Mr. Wells needs to attend to his other clientele.”

“Who are you?” the judge asked.

“My name is Lisa Johnson, I’m Ricardo’s teacher,” she said.

The judge looked at Rich and asked, “Are you not able to represent the accused?”

Rich was so shocked by the last two minutes, he was not sure what he should say. “I’m able to represent this client, if HE,” Rich emphasized, “would like me to. However, I will respect their wishes and pass this case along.”

The judge nodded. “Fine, let’s reschedule for next week.”

He banged the gavel on the desk and said, “Next.”

The lady grabbed the boy, as she turned to march out of the courtroom. Rich knew he was bright red now, how dare she embarrass him like that in the courtroom, in front of his superiors and peers. That was one thing he didn’t stand for, so he stormed after them to confront the crazy black bitch.

The doors banged closed behind him and he said through his teeth, “Listen here, you –”, he caught himself.

She whirled around, glaring at him. Lisa motioned for her student to go towards the stairs. He immediately obeyed because he must have sensed it was about to get ugly. She kept her glare and spoke through her teeth in a low menacing voice, “What, I’m a what? Blackie, Darkie, Nigger bitch? Which one were you going for today?” she asked.

He was shocked at her candor. Then he said, “Well I was just going to say bitch, but you finished the others for me.”

She walked closer to him and he could smell her perfume. She smelled delicious like he could eat her, but she looked dangerous like he should cover his balls or his face. “Wow,” she laughed, “some things never change. You are still the same ignoramus you’ve always been.”

What the hell was she talking about? He didn’t know her from anywhere. She looked faintly familiar, but he could not place where he could possibly know her. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he asked with a scowl on his face.

“I’m talking about you and your prejudice ways. You are still ignorant. Why the hell would you be a public defender? You are setting these people up for failure because you don’t care one bit about them. This is just a step for you to something bigger.” She looked utterly disgusted with him.

Rich had seen that same look many times from his father when he messed up. What she thought about him should not have mattered, but the way she read him like a book during a five-minute interaction made him feel vulnerable.

Was he so transparent?

“I don’t give a fuck what you think about me, I do my job and I do it well –” he started.

“No, Richard,” she emphasized his name like he was a boy, “You do a job, but you don’t do it well. You will never do it well until you give a fuck. But don’t you worry. I will make it my life’s mission to make sure you do go into private practice because this.” She circled her finger around the air then pointed to Ricardo, “isn’t for people the likes of you.”

Ten minutes ago, he couldn’t have agreed with her more, but now he was upset that she just called him out. Who the hell was she? He glared at her and she turned her lip at him like she smelled something bad and slowly sashayed away. It was like she knew he’d be looking at her ass. Which he was, mesmerized by each sway of her hips. 

******

LISA:

She knew exactly who he was when he opened his mouth. 15 years ago, at the Over the Tracks community event, he had pushed her down at the end of the basketball game which started the brawl that was heard around Richard Allen. Lisa was known as the fierce up and coming basketball star who put boys to shame. Josh and her dad were committed to making Lisa better and better at the sport. She went on to play in high school, then she was recruited to play for Drexel University. Everybody around the neighborhood was so proud of her because they felt like they were a part of her process. Some of the girls didn’t like her because she always had the guy’s attention or admiration. This caused her not to hang out with many girls, but she had a few loyal friends. Jessica and Michelle were the closest to her since she knew them since high school.

After Drexel, her father did not want her coming back home to live. He said she should be out on her own. Therefore, he and Josh had set to revamp a house that was on sale for nearly nothing, but needed a lot of repairs. Dad suggested that she and Josh buy it, so they would own property. It made sense because Josh owned a hardware store and Dad was a construction worker. Her dad also worked as a plumbing technician instructor at a local trade school. He would also do mechanical and plumbing jobs for the neighbors and people in the community, for a small fee. Sometimes, he allowed Josh to tag along and help.

Education was Lisa’s major, so right after school, she started working for her old high school, where she was welcomed with open arms. After a few years, she joined the board of the No School to Prison Pipeline Foundation (NSPPF) and now she served as Chair of the Board. She received the journalist job because Lisa would always comment and ‘write the editor’ about various topics that related to education, social justice, and the community. This included long letters, debatable comments and post that impressed someone, so the Philadelphia Daily Newspaper made her an offer. She gladly accepted and had been writing as a freelancer for a few years. Her column was called, ‘Real Talk with Lisa.’

On the ride home, Lisa was in deep thought. Mostly about the prejudice son of a bitch. She was still livid. That arrogant lawyer, Mr. Richard Wells, Jr., was going to pay. She could not believe she lost her temper and messed up Ricardo’s case, but she could not allow him to represent the boy. He didn’t give one fuck about Ricardo or anyone else. If he thought that his entitled attitude, that Armani tailored suit that fit him perfectly or his perfect smile was going to help, he was wrong. She had a board meeting tomorrow evening and this was going to be the topic that she contributed, not only to the meeting but to her column in the paper.

When Lisa arrived at her townhouse, she went to her entrance on the first floor and slammed the door. Josh lived on the second floor and had a different entry way. Her phone beeped, but it was only Josh asking if she was alright since her door slammed. He must have been home to hear that. She said yeah, just a terrible day. He asked if she wanted company, but she didn’t, she wanted to start writing her article about the racist, prejudice bastard. She would have to look it up to see which he was, racist, prejudice, or both.

Lisa did not realize how mad she was until her stomach growled and she heard how loud she was banging on the keys of her ergonomic keyboard. The keyboard had not done anything to her, but that man, Richard Wells, did. She reread her article and smiled. She thought she should probably wait until another day for submitting it, but she knew her anger might kindle a little and she would probably change it. She wanted to send it now so he could feel the full weight of her wrath. This was probably not wise, but she did not care at the moment. Hoping it would be a significant backlash, she hit send, which emailed the article to her editor.

Finally, she re-heated her spaghetti from last night, grabbed a bottle of wine and ate in silence. Her phone chimed again, but this time it was Danny. He was saying that he missed her and couldn’t wait to get home. She slightly smiled as they had been dating seriously for over a few years now. She thought he would be proposing soon, but that seemed to be the furthest thing from Danny’s mind. He was currently in California, working on a book with a USC (University of Southern California) professor. Danny was a research guru, which was good when she was taking the quantitative method’s class and he helped her passed with an A. Lately, she was not feeling his profession, nor his commitment to research and definitely not their future.

Lisa was thinking about going back to school for Community Planning and Urban Development, but she was not definite nor did she think she would be able to do this and continue to teach. Temple University had a new program that she thought might be a good fit, but she wanted to get more information first.

Finishing her wine, she received another text from the editor that read, “Ouch.”

She knew she had hit her mark.

—

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