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Authors: Gloria Naylor
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clear from this.”
“It’s not ‘we,’ Mama, it’s me. I’m stuck in here—not you. It’s filthy and smelly, and I even heard rats under my bed last night.”
Mattie’s stomach knotted into tiny spasms.
“So when am I leaving?”
“Tomorrow at the hearing, when they tell us the bail, I’ll put it up and then you can get out.”
“Can’t you give them the bail money today? I can’t spend another night in this place.”
“Basil, there’s nothing I can do today. We have to wait.” Mattie pressed a trembling hand to her eyes to hold back the tears. She had never felt so impotent in her life. There was no way she could fight the tiny inked markings that now controlled their lives. She would give anything to remove him from this horrible place—didn’t he know that? But those blue loops, commas, and periods had tied her hands.
“Okay, fine. If you can’t, you can’t,” he said bitterly, and got up from his chair.
“Honey, we still got time, don’t you want to sit and talk?”
“There’s nothing left to talk about, Mama, unless you wanna hear about the broken toilets with three-day-old shit or the bedbugs that have ate up my back or the greasy food I keep throwing up. Other than that, I got nothing to say to you.”
He left Mattie sitting there, understanding his frustration but wishing he had chosen a kinder way of hurting her, by just hitting her in the face.
The judge set bail the next day, and Basil was given an early trial date. Cecil Garvin tried to appeal the bail, but the court denied his plea.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Michael, it’s the best I could do. There’s no need, really, to try and raise so much money. The case goes to trial in only two weeks, and it won’t be a complicated proceeding. I’ve talked to the district attorney, and they won’t push too heavily on the assault charge if we drop the implications of undue force in the arrest. So it’s going to work out well for all the parties involved. And your son will be free in less than fifteen days.”
“I still want to put up the bail,” Mattie said.
Garvin looked worried. “It’s a great deal of money, Mrs.Michael, and you don’t have the ready assets for something like that.”
“I’ve got my house; it’s mine and paid for. Can’t I put that up for bail?”
“Well, yes, but you do understand that bail is only posted to insure that the defendant appears for trial. If they don’t appear, the court issues a bench warrant for the truant party and you forfeit your bond. You do understand that?”
“I understand.”
The lawyer looked thoughtfully over at Basil. “It’s only a matter of two weeks, Mrs. Michael. Some defendants spend months waiting for trial. Perhaps you should reconsider.”
Mattie stared at him, and she thought about the blonde girl in the silver frame on his desk. “If it was your daughter locked up in a place like that,” she said angrily, “could you stand there and say the same thing?”
His face reddened, and he stammered for a moment. “That’s not what I mean, Mrs. Michael. It’s just that with some people it’s better to…well, it’s up to you. It is your son, after all. Come along, and I’ll give you the necessary papers to take to a bonding company.”
The snow fell early that year. When Basil and Mattie left the precinct, the wide soft flakes were floating in gentle layers on the November air. Basil reached out and tried to grab one to give her, and he laughed as it melted in his hand.
“Remember how I used to cry when I tried to bring you a snowflake and it always disappeared?” He held his face up to the sky and let the snow fall on his closed lids. “Oh, God, Mama, isn’t it beautiful?”
“Beautiful? You always hated the snow.”
“Not now, it’s wonderful. It’s out here and free, like I am. I love it!” And he wrapped his arms around himself.
Mattie’s insides expanded to take in his joy.
“And I love you, Mama.” He put his arm around her
“It’s not ‘we,’ Mama, it’s me. I’m stuck in here—not you. It’s filthy and smelly, and I even heard rats under my bed last night.”
Mattie’s stomach knotted into tiny spasms.
“So when am I leaving?”
“Tomorrow at the hearing, when they tell us the bail, I’ll put it up and then you can get out.”
“Can’t you give them the bail money today? I can’t spend another night in this place.”
“Basil, there’s nothing I can do today. We have to wait.” Mattie pressed a trembling hand to her eyes to hold back the tears. She had never felt so impotent in her life. There was no way she could fight the tiny inked markings that now controlled their lives. She would give anything to remove him from this horrible place—didn’t he know that? But those blue loops, commas, and periods had tied her hands.
“Okay, fine. If you can’t, you can’t,” he said bitterly, and got up from his chair.
“Honey, we still got time, don’t you want to sit and talk?”
“There’s nothing left to talk about, Mama, unless you wanna hear about the broken toilets with three-day-old shit or the bedbugs that have ate up my back or the greasy food I keep throwing up. Other than that, I got nothing to say to you.”
He left Mattie sitting there, understanding his frustration but wishing he had chosen a kinder way of hurting her, by just hitting her in the face.
The judge set bail the next day, and Basil was given an early trial date. Cecil Garvin tried to appeal the bail, but the court denied his plea.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Michael, it’s the best I could do. There’s no need, really, to try and raise so much money. The case goes to trial in only two weeks, and it won’t be a complicated proceeding. I’ve talked to the district attorney, and they won’t push too heavily on the assault charge if we drop the implications of undue force in the arrest. So it’s going to work out well for all the parties involved. And your son will be free in less than fifteen days.”
“I still want to put up the bail,” Mattie said.
Garvin looked worried. “It’s a great deal of money, Mrs.Michael, and you don’t have the ready assets for something like that.”
“I’ve got my house; it’s mine and paid for. Can’t I put that up for bail?”
“Well, yes, but you do understand that bail is only posted to insure that the defendant appears for trial. If they don’t appear, the court issues a bench warrant for the truant party and you forfeit your bond. You do understand that?”
“I understand.”
The lawyer looked thoughtfully over at Basil. “It’s only a matter of two weeks, Mrs. Michael. Some defendants spend months waiting for trial. Perhaps you should reconsider.”
Mattie stared at him, and she thought about the blonde girl in the silver frame on his desk. “If it was your daughter locked up in a place like that,” she said angrily, “could you stand there and say the same thing?”
His face reddened, and he stammered for a moment. “That’s not what I mean, Mrs. Michael. It’s just that with some people it’s better to…well, it’s up to you. It is your son, after all. Come along, and I’ll give you the necessary papers to take to a bonding company.”
The snow fell early that year. When Basil and Mattie left the precinct, the wide soft flakes were floating in gentle layers on the November air. Basil reached out and tried to grab one to give her, and he laughed as it melted in his hand.
“Remember how I used to cry when I tried to bring you a snowflake and it always disappeared?” He held his face up to the sky and let the snow fall on his closed lids. “Oh, God, Mama, isn’t it beautiful?”
“Beautiful? You always hated the snow.”
“Not now, it’s wonderful. It’s out here and free, like I am. I love it!” And he wrapped his arms around himself.
Mattie’s insides expanded to take in his joy.
“And I love you, Mama.” He put his arm around her
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