Alternate Universe from The Porch

“If you ain’t getting’ bagged stay the fuck from police. If ni**as think you snitchin’ they ain’t tryna listen.” (See, Rule Number Nine, The Ten Crack Commandments, by Notorious B.I.G.).

He fucking hated standing when the jury walked in. He had shit to do – getting the exhibits ready, trying to figure out how he was going to get this commercial sex worker to admit she was a victim. But the defense attorney stood. And so did his client, dressed like Malcom X in his bowtie, white shirt and black, boxy glasses that probably weren’t even prescription. So the D.A. stood too, impatient, watching as fourteen random people he picked last week took their seats in the jury box.  

“Calling the People v. Darius Jones, represented by Martin Lupinsky, and District Attorney Jimmy Sweeney for the People. Continuing with the direct testimony of Faith S. Ma’am, do you understand you’re still under oath?” The Judge looked down at Faith from his elevated perch on the bench. 

“Yes, your honor,” Faith mumbled. 

“Ma’am, you either enunciate clearly, or else you speak into that microphone in front of you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, your honor.” No more mumbling. 

Sweeney smiled to himself. Judge Donnelly was gruff so Sweeney didn’t have to be. “Good afternoon, Faith. We spoke for a few minutes yesterday.” A juror’s kid got sick the day before, so they broke early. “You identified this man,” Sweeny said as he pointed to Darius, “as your boyfriend?”

 “Yes sir.”

“Are you familiar with the term ‘working’?”

“Yes.”

Like pulling teeth. Sweeney continued. “Please tell the jury what ‘working’ means.”

“It mean hoeing.” She looked at the prosecutor like he was dumb. “Fucking fo’ money. Oh, shit, am I not allowed to say fuck in court?” Laughter from the jury.

“These jurors have heard cuss words before,” Judge Donnelly said. “Please proceed.” 

Sweeney couldn’t hide his smile this time. “That means yes, Faith. If that’s what makes you feel comfortable.” Sweeney saw Faith’s shoulders relax, just a bit. There was an art to getting information out of an uncooperative witness. “What’s a bottom bitch?”

“A bottom bitch? That’s like, a pimp’s mos’ trusted bitch, the one he go to. The one mos’ down for him.” She stared at Darius, who stared right back, like they were having sex with their eyes.

“Does she enforce the rules for him?”

“Yeah, sometimes she ‘spose to.”

“Like she might engage in violence against other females who were out of pocket?” Sweeney asked.

“I mean, I guess. It’s possible.”

“What’s out of pocket, Faith?”

“That’s a ho who not following the rules.”

“What’s a gorilla pimp?”

“That’s a pimp that chops a bitch.” Sweeney raised his eyebrows and Faith sighed. “Chopped means gettin’ hit.”

“If a pimp hit a fifteen-year-old child, would you consider him a gorilla?”

Faith squirmed a bit and snuck a look at Darius. “I mean, yeah, I guess.”

“If you have a gorilla pimp, who does he hit the most?”

“Objection, speculation.” Lupinsky interrupted, surprisingly quiet until now. 

“Sustained,” the Judge turned to faith. “That means you don’t have to answer.”

“Okay,” Sweeney tried again, “is it consistent with the Game for a pimp to go hard on his bottom bitch?”

“Objection,“ Lupinsky interrupted again. “She’s not an expert. Speculation.”

“I disagree,” the Judge quickly shot back. “She testified that she has engaged in prostitution on the streets for several years and is familiar with the Game. I’d say that qualifies her as an expert and she may answer a hypothetical.”

“She testified that she’s a renegade. A renegade is someone without a pimp. Hence, she’s not an expert when it comes to pimps.” The defense attorney gave it right back.

“Mr. Lupinksy,” Judge Donnelly had quite the history with him. “There will be no further speaking objections. The fact of whether she has a pimp, and who that is, is what’s in question. Based on the circumstances, I’m finding she is qualified to testify. Do you need the question read back to you Ms. S.?”

“No sir,” Faith said. “Yeah, pimps go harder on they bottom bitches.”

It was time for Sweeney to begin driving home his point. “So, if another girl in the same stable wasn’t working, and the pimp had told the bottom that they better both be catching prostitution dates when he arrived, that could be bad for the bottom, right?”

“It could.” Faith shifted in her seat. 

“And that could result in the bottom getting chopped, if they both weren’t working, right Faith?”

“Objection. Leading.” Lupinsky was trying to rattle Sweeney. It wasn’t going to work.

“Overruled,” the Judge quickly answered. “I’m making a finding that this witness is hostile. Mr. Sweeney, you may ask leading questions.”

Sweeney fucking loved this Judge. “Faith?”

“Yes, the bottom could get chopped” she reluctantly admitted. 

“Now, you said you’re Darius’ girlfriend?” Faith nodded, and Sweeney continued. To hell with the Court Reporter. “And you engage in prostitution, yet he’s just a boyfriend?”

Faith nodded again. 

“So, he’s not a pimp, or he’s not your pimp?”

“He’s not my pimp. I mean, I don’ know if he a pimp. He just not mine.”

“The phone found in your possession, where someone told you that Di, the girl an officer observed you hitting, better be working or else you were going to get beat. You’re saying that was your pimp who texted you, but that wasn’t Darius, correct?”

“Yeah.” The walls were closing in. Sweeney looked at the jury. They were paying rapt attention. Orgasmic.

“And there’s a message to Di’s phone number in your phone’s history,” Sweeney placed exhibit twenty on the Elmo and pointed to a highlighted text from Faith. “See how you call her wifey in your message to her? What’s a wifey, Faith?”

“That mean another ho.”

“From the same pimp, right? It means two girls that work for the same dude, correct?”

“I mean, yeah it do.”

“And Di’s your wifey, isn’t she?”

“You have the text.” Faith’s head was down now, no looking at anyone. She didn’t know he had all this information. 

“I do have the text. So, if you just testified that ‘wifey’ means you work for the same pimp, and that Di is your wifey, that means if Di admitted earlier in this trial that she works for Darius, so do you.”

Faith didn’t say anything.

“That’s why you have his moniker, Goldie, tattooed on your face. If he was your boyfriend, your tattoo would be his government name, Darius, not his pimp name, isn’t that right?”

“He is my boyfriend.”

“But Di doesn’t have his name on her face. Neither does that child with the black eye that you say doesn’t work for him either. Only you do, Faith. And that’s because you’re his bottom, isn’t it?”

No answer.

“That message about ‘Di better be working,’ that message was a text from him, and that’s why an officer observed you hitting Di and telling her she better get back on the street and work. ‘Ten toes down’ I think you were quoted as saying.”

“Do you have a question, counsel?”

Sweeney nodded at the Judge. “I do, Your Honor.” Could Faith sink any lower in that chair? “Faith, you hit Di because you were afraid of Darius, your pimp, weren’t you?

Faith put her face in her hands and cried.

“Nothing further, your honor.”