smoked it a few times, but it made me sick too. I don’t know why but it did, so I quit messing with it. So far the alcohol makes me feel good and calms me down.”
“Your mom did not do drugs?”
“Of course, she does. I think almost everybody living in my kind of stands does drugs and smokes weed.”
“Those drugs and weeds are not expensive?”
“They are.”
“How can your mom afford them?”
“I don’t know. I never asked how, but she smoked weed all the time.”
“Her boyfriend does smoke, too?”
“Yes, he does. He is the one bringing them for Mom.”
“I wonder how he could buy weed. You said he is not working.”
“That, I don’t know. But he smokes weed and crack often.”
“You said you just like to drink, then how could you buy drinks all the time?”
“That’s why my problem started. I needed a drink so often that I began to learn how to steal things and rob stores from older boys. That was why I had to serve time at the boys’ school.”
“How often do you think have you stolen goods?”
“I did almost everyday. It’s easy. But once, when robbing the store with friends, I got caught and sent to the boys’ school.”
“Did you not know stealing is a crime?”
“Everybody knows it is a crime, but they have to commit crimes to get what they want. Nobody was rich and they did not have jobs, so how can you expect them not doing bad things in this day?” he said in a little more highly emotional tone.
He lit up another cigarette and then continued his stories.
“When I got into middle school, all boys living in my neighborhood were doing either drugs or crimes.”
“What made you get involved in the crimes?”
“You see, if I want to join the clubs, I have to play with them. So far nobody has taught me not to do bad things. When I stayed home, all I watched and learned was my mom and her boyfriends doing sex, drugs and drinking. So, what chance did I have? When I was in middle school, I did not want to stay home or watch Mom’s whereabouts. When I joined the group, they offered food and gave me a few dollars so I liked it. They treated me well so I played with them the way they wanted.”
“Did you not know what old boys are doing is wrong?”
“I knew it was wrong. They got nothing to do or to eat at home so I think in order for them to kill the time, they got to commit a crime or fool around until they were caught by the police. Almost everybody had been in prison for many days, so thinking of incarceration, it seemed, it was not a problem to them,” he said, then put another cigarette on his lip.
“I think the way they wanted to break the law was only something they had learned to make a living. I believe if the government gives them the right opportunities and proper jobs, they do not need to break any laws. It seemed no one cared about them and they always felt they have been abandoned by society so maybe making mistakes are only a way for them to make their presence felt,” he said in a depressed voice, and then stood up.
“When I was taken to the boys’ school, I met a lot of bad boys and learned more criminal things than I could imagine. Because of so many bad things I had learned while in the boys’ school, I lost my confidence about what to do when I got out. All I could remember was I had to commit crimes as a compromise in how I had to manage my life. When I got out, I was afraid of living alone so I drank more. The alcohol was the only thing that made me calm down.”
Howard was talking like a storyteller. It mesmerized me and made me fall into deep thought for myself, and I wondered how young boys like him at his age could possibly manage their lives normally as most white people do. I was depressed at his stories but I knew I couldn’t do anything for him.
In my impression of him, Howard was a person who had a smart brain, who could make his life a little better after serving his sentence. I felt sorry for him as I heard his stories, but had no words for him.
Soon, dinner chow was called so we lined up and went down to the cafeteria. As soon as we returned, he lit up a cigarette first and inhaled smoke all the way to his throat and blew it out forcefully. Instantly I realized he was looking for something to snack on after the chow.
“Howard, I wish I had some commissary I could share with you, but I just got in this place not long ago.”
“I understand. I have to see the psychologist tomorrow and have to go back to the county jail, and then the judge will sentence me,” he reiterated his situation.
He suddenly looked depressed when he mentioned the sentencing, but I did not know how I could elevate his mood. I waited for a while and lay down, thinking unthinkable facts about my conviction.
Thank God, Howard did not do drugs so I thought he could survive. If he did, I guessed, he would end up getting killed or serving real big time in prison. I personally never touched any drugs so it was not easy for me to judge other people’s misdemeanors.
When the night got deeper, he seemed more nervous and kept smoking and standing in the cell floor.
“Come on, Howard, lie down,” I suggested.
He glanced at me, and then kept wandering. I knew he had to go down to see the psychologist the next day so I understood his emotions.
“What happened to your father? You don’t have a father?” I resumed the conversation.
“No. I never knew I had a father. My mother never mentioned about a father so I never bothered asking her.”
“You did not want to know who your father is.”
“No, my mother said nothing and I did not want to know.”
His story gave me an idea of why and how he became prematurely sexually active. It seemed to me that his mother made him act and behave like a mature person from childhood. I was curious about the disciplining by his mother, so I asked.
“When you drank beer, your mom did not punish you?”
“She never swore at me when she saw me drinking. She was busy having a good time with her boyfriend so she never pointed out my drinking. As I said, the drinking made me feel good and relaxed.”
“Your mom has never asked what you have been doing when she comes back from outside?”
“No. She usually said nothing but sometimes she asked what I ate for lunch.”
“Did you go to school regularly?”
“I did until middle school.”
“How come you said you could not find friends your age?”
“Like I said, they seemed
