Draft 3
Submerged
I never been to court before and I don't ever want to go again. I only went because my dad told me I had to. The building looked friendly until you walk around to the metal detectors with two security guards standing there with attitudes. There was an African American man on one side and a lady on the other side. I chose to walk through the man side, he looked more pleasant. The lady was shouting, “Come on through put your things in the container, keys, change, and belts. All of it goes the container!” She was so loud the man’s line followed the same directions. After going through the metal detectors, we walked to the elevators. The elevators were in a short hall way with four on each side. The hallway was full of people rushing to the doors as soon as they opened. There were police, lawyers in their shiny clean suits, and victims probably praying that they won't end up in jail today. The elevators were tall, gold and shiny but they didn't look wide enough for the number of people that was filling them up. The police were everywhere and I did not feel comfortable around them. I knew I did not want to be in an elevator full of them.
“Dad let’s wait. We need an elevator with less people as possible!” I said wishing that the crowd of people would soon die down.
Once we got to the floor of the courtroom, there were people seated on little marble benches attached to both sides of the walls along the hallway. As we walked through, it felt like a soul train line. We were not dancing in the middle, but we were tip toeing to the courtroom.
As soon as we stepped foot into the courtroom, the feeling in my stomach got worst. I just knew that my dad was not leaving with me. I wonder if they would bring up his past. I knew that my dad had done street related things in the past, but those things do not have any comparison to the crime you see on the news. Worst things happen in the on the news that those criminals got away with. He never killed anybody, he is a drug dealer but; your friendly drug dealer. My dad has a heart. Everything he does and has done is for us.
I sat in the wrong row and a deep voice came from nowhere. “Excuse me but you cannot sit in the front row.” I moved, looked at my dad, and he was texting on his phone. The look on his face was a look as if he wanted to cry. He was trying to be strong, holding his emotions in. We were about 20 minutes early to the court that the room was still setting up for all the cases they had that day. It was a small room with four rows of pews in the bottom center and right for the jury. The judge sat in the middle in his grand chair. There was a man and woman beside him that I guess announced the judge and the prisoner or victim to the case. There was a mystery door to the left that was later solved. That door was for the people coming from or going to jail.
“All rise, court is now in session!” said that man on the left.
The first case was for this twenty-one year old even though he looked thirty-In my opinion- he was charged with violating his parole and drug possession. He had got caught in the middle of a sale. His whole family was there with him and he had the same lawyer as my dad.
“Oh please judge I'm so sorry and I promise I won't do it again it time to focus on my family and my unborn child. I don't want to be in trouble anymore.” He walked away with 8 years of probation. The judge said “ If I see you again in this courtroom for anything even a ticket, dirty urine, anything you will serve that time in jail, up state!” listening to the judge made me worry about the fate of my father.
The lawyer left the stand and notified my dad was next he said “Just some advice don't do what that guy just did, when or if the judge ask you do you have anything to add.”
“Ricky R. Collins” I couldn't hear anything else but his name and he took the stand. This maybe Indian, short, round like a big bouncy ball, lady was beside him speaking.
“You know he’s charge with having eight grams of cocaine the minimum is 1-3 years. This is not the first time he has been in trouble. The 1st in 1990 that was drug related 2nd in 2010 for having dogs in a dangerous living condition. Now this and he had got off on probation for every single one. He’s obviously didn't learn his lesson. Therefore probation should not be granted in this situation.” As she fix her suit jacket and took her seat with a look that stated “It is what it is so what you got to say judge?”
The lawyer jumped in “Mr. Collins has been moving forward since his arrest. He’s applied to several job applications that I have here. I printed the many emails stating they have accepted his applications. He’s a family man with his daughter here with him now” stating as he pointed to me. I felt like everybody turned and looked at me. He continued “He is ready to be a legal working man. He has done work at his dad’s contractor business. In the morning, he takes his youngest daughter to school, and picks her up at 3:15 every day. So house arrest will be appropriate for this occasion because it will allow him to work and be off the streets.”
“Mr. Collins do you have any last words?” the judge asked. He didn't even look at him in waiting for a response. The courtroom temperature dropped, it felt colder than my dad spoke.
“Judge I can give you my word that this is my last time. This is not the life I want to neither live nor show my kids. Everything I do I do for them. I’m sorry and I promise you won't see me again.” He stated followed by a deep breath.
Yeah my dad sold drugs but he did it because when he got arrested he lost his nursing job. Back then he couldn't get his job back after his arrest. Things are different now. He can have a job with his record. He never stopped because it paid the bills and made sure we had what we needed. I am sure this is the last time. I saw it in his eyes when he looked back at me before the judge spoke. I believed him.
“Until you can prove that you can and willing to work you will serve one and a half years then I might consider the house arrest for the rest of the time.”
“But I do have a job coming they are processing my paper work and is supposed to be calling me in a couple of days.” He interrupted the judge.
“Do we have any proof of this?” He questioned the lawyer.
“The lady only responded by phone so no.” The lawyer answered.
“Okay Mr. Collins …” That’s when the conversation went into a blur. I didn't quite understand what was going on. The judge kept throwing in the house arrest and jail time I was confused. My heart sank deep in my chest I'm pretty sure it was in my stomach. Just watched them lead my dad into that secret door. Our last exchange words were
“Here go the money to pay my rent. But see if Phyllis is gonna pay it first if she don’t you do it.”
He gave me his phone and the money and that was it. I tried so hard not to cry but I really didn't know how to feel. I left the courtroom and the lawyer walked behind me he said
“His house arrest was granted and he should be staying at his mother house, but he’s spending 2-3 weeks in jail until the house arrest is set up.”
Even though this was good news I still didn't know how this would end or if my job was done.