Читать книгу Borrow Trouble - Mary Monroe - Страница 12

The two guards stayed right on our heels all the way into what I assumed was a courtroom, where Debra led me to a table with two chairs. There were a few other people in the courtroom, including the man from the bar who had wooed me into bed then set me up. Jose. That son of a bitch! He occupied a front-row seat in the spectators’ area.

Jose glanced at me, his evil eyes rolling up to my matted, nappy hair. Without my make-up and my wig, I looked nothing like the woman he’d first met. Had I looked like the frump that I looked like now when Jose first saw me, he probably wouldn’t have even noticed me. His lips curled up at the ends in what looked like a weak smile. Or a triumphant smile, I should say. I recalled how one of the officers had told me that the men who worked with the authorities to help identify prostitutes got paid for their roles. I felt really let down and unattractive thinking that I’d been approached because of a possible price tag on my head, not because of my beauty.

A scowling bull of a man in a black robe, his face and hands almost as black as his robe, sat down hard on a bench facing us. Sweat was already sliding down his face, and his jaw was twitching. He looked like he wanted to put the whole world behind bars. And this was the man who was going to decide my fate.

A prim-looking stenographer slid into a seat near the judge. Without a word, Debra approached the bench. The judge gave her an impatient look before he leaned forward. He casually rolled up his sleeves and folded his arms as Debra spoke to him in a voice too low for me to hear. Whatever she was saying only seemed to irritate the judge. He shook his head, unfolded his arms, and started waving both, also speaking in a voice too low for me to hear. When his lips stopped flapping, he jerked his head up and looked at me like I’d just organized a coup against his country. With a grunt, he dismissed Debra with a sharp wave of his hand, as if she had turned into a bothersome fly. With her head bowed submissively, Debra returned to my side.

“What were you saying to that judge?” I asked, concerned because the judge was still giving me dirty looks.

“It doesn’t matter,” Debra told me, both of her cheeks and brows twitching. “It did no good, anyway,” she added, her voice cracking.

“And why is Jose here?” I wanted to know.

“Oh. Well, if you plead not guilty, he will be asked to make a statement, refute your version of the events.”

I glared at Jose so hard, hoping to see some remorse or compassion. All he gave me was a look that was so smug, it looked like it had been painted on his face.

About a minute later, two men in dark suits approached the bench and spoke to the judge in Spanish.

“What are they saying?” I asked Debra in a whisper. Not only were they speaking too fast for me to understand, too many other things were crowding my mind. “Who are they?”

“The one on the left is trying to talk the judge into simply deporting you. He’s trying to talk His Honor into letting you off with just a warning, no fine, no more jail time,” Debra told me, talking with her hand half covering her mouth. “Like I just tried to do.”

“Is he like a public defender?” I asked.

“He works for the court. His position here is to try and alleviate a situation such as yours, make a recommendation in your favor. Ironically, he gets paid the same whether he wins or loses. This is just a job to him, so don’t think that he really cares about what happens to people like you.”

People like you? Debra’s words almost seared a huge spot in my brain. This is what I had been reduced to. “What about you?” I asked in a steely voice. “Do you care about what happens to…people like me?”

Debra smiled. “I do.” A painful expression eased onto her face, and she spoke in a soft but hollow voice. “My daughter, Justine, is serving a life sentence in Malaysia. She and her boyfriend tried to smuggle heroin out of the country. She’s nineteen. She has been in jail for only a year. She’s my only child….” Debra’s voice trailed off, and she just stared at me for a few seconds, with eyes that refused to blink. Then she nodded. “Yes, I do care about you.”

I bowed my head. “I am sorry about your daughter.” I decided to shift the direction of our conversation. The two suits were still talking to the judge, and I still couldn’t interpret the conversation. The way the man speaking on my behalf was waving his arms and raising his voice, it didn’t sound too good for me.

“Debra, a ten-thousand-dollar fine or three months in jail for…uh…what I did sounds pretty severe for somebody who’s never been arrested,” I said hopefully. “I’m a tourist, ignorant of the laws here. Doesn’t that mean something to these people?”

“You will find little or no mercy here. These people are not known for their compassion,” Debra informed me.

“I didn’t hurt anybody. I didn’t steal anything. My punishment does not fit my crime,” I said, talking in a slow, mechanical way.

Debra slowly shook her head and dabbed at her eyes and nose before she spoke. There was an extremely sad look on her face, and I was sure that it was because she was still thinking about what had happened to her daughter in Malaysia.

“Last year the fine was only five thousand or one month in jail. Two years before that, there was no fine or jail time for first-time offenders. Just probation. That kind of leniency only made the situation worse.” Debra let out a loud sigh. “I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like a few years from now.”

I looked back to the two men talking to the judge. “Who is that other man?”

There was a frightened look on Debra’s face, which she tried to hide, but as soon as I saw it, I became even more concerned about my fate. “The other man is a prosecutor. He feels that since all of the other women who were arrested the same day as you pleaded guilty, you should be encouraged to do so as well.”

“But those other women are real prostitutes,” I reminded.

Debra gave me an exasperated look, but then, a split second later, she looked at me with pity. “Do you remember what we talked about yesterday?”

I nodded.

“Let me tell you something about those other women. Jail is a blessing to most of them.” Debra sniffed. “So many of them are homeless or involved with men who mistreat them. They have no families to turn to. It is very dangerous on the streets doing what they do. In jail, they have food and shelter, and medical attention if they need it. They look forward to spending a few months, or years, in jail. It’s a bleak life to those like you and me, but so many people are not as fortunate as you and me.”

Shaking my head, I said, “How should I plead?”

“Like I’ve already told you, you can plead not guilty and spend up to a year in jail, anyway, while awaiting trial. Or you can plead no contest, or guilty, and accept your sentence.”

“They told me that I’d have to do three months if I plead guilty. There is no way I can survive three months in jail down here.” At this point, it didn’t make much difference to me if I had to face three months or a year in jail. I couldn’t imagine doing either one.

“Shhhh. The judge is about to speak.” Debra smiled, then gripped my hand. “Let’s hope for the best.”

As soon as the judge opened his mouth, I sucked in my breath and held it.

“Renee Denise Webb, you have been charged with the crime of prostitution. How do you plead?” the judge asked. His deep, gravelly voice was like the boom of a cannon and seemed to bounce off of the walls. There was not one thing that I liked about this man. He had that smug look I’d seen on the faces of foreigners on the six o’clock news. The angry ones in a position where they could get back at the American government by taking out their wrath on any American.

I opened my mouth, but I couldn’t get any words out until Debra jabbed me in my side with her elbow. “Uh…guilty, Your Honor,” I said, almost choking on my words. That’s the last thing I remember, because I fainted. When I came to, in the same infirmary, in the same detention center that they’d taken me to the first time I’d fainted, Debra Retner and two guards were standing by the side of the cot. My forehead was throbbing. I reached up and felt a knot the size of a jawbreaker, which had formed a few inches above my right eye.

“What happened?” I asked, looking at Debra.

Before she responded, she waved the two guards out of the room. Then she sat on the side of the cot, blinking hard.

“As soon as the judge announced your sentence, you fainted and fell face first against the edge of the table. That’s how you injured yourself. You’ll have to return to the courtroom tomorrow to face the judge again. Hopefully, you will remain lucid until he passes sentence again and invites you to comment.”

“If he’s already sentenced me, I don’t need to go back to that courtroom,” I protested, still rubbing the knot on my forehead. It didn’t take long for it to become as numb as the rest of my body.

“The court has to be thorough. You fainted before the judge had finished making his comments. I guess this is not your day,” Debra said in a weary voice. “I guess the judge is having a bad day, too. He wants to make an example of you….”

“I have to spend three months down here in prison?” I asked, struggling to sit up.

Debra dropped her head and nodded.

“I did all I could do for you. I am so very sorry, Mrs. Webb.” Debra’s eyes were red and swollen. It was obvious that she’d had a bad night herself. She had lost her daughter to a system that few people could understand. Now she was losing me, too. To another system that few people could understand.