They had me sitting bitch in George’s S-10 per usual. That was better than being in the back. One time I was in the back and they raced a car on the interstate. It didn’t seem that crazy then, but looking back, their lack of concern for my life was chilling. Maybe I shouldn’t take it too personally. They were essentially unconscious human beings.
And so was I.
Luckily George had gotten rid of the shotgun he’d used to rob Aubrey, because the cops were following us. Apparently they’d gotten a call about a red truck driving reckless.
George’s plan was to simply drive to his house. I don’t know why he thought that would protect him. It didn’t. They flashed their lights and pulled us over.
There were two blunt roaches in his ashtray. Craig and I both ate one and washed it down with a swig of a warm Powerade left in the cup holder. Nasty, but it saved George from getting a DUI.
Swallowing those roaches weren’t enough to keep Craig or George completely out of trouble. The cops smelled weed and immediately searched the car, They found some on George. Me and Craig watched it all unfold, nervous as hell. This was before cops killed black people online everyday, so we weren’t that nervous, but still.
They handcuffed George then looked over at us. We told them we lived close enough to walk home. There was one problem. It was past the city’s curfew for juveniles, so they couldn’t let us walk the streets. They had take us to the station. But first they had to frisk us, “for their own safety.”
I had on nike pull-away pants that didn’t have pockets, so they just shook my pants and were done with me. They didn’t even check my socks. I could’ve stashed the roaches there instead of eating them!
I looked over at Craig. For some reason this guy didn’t think to stash the weed from is pocket, if he would’ve, he could’ve gotten away. He shot me a hopeless glance the moment they found it. I felt terrible. It was at that moment I understood, at least subconsciously, that Craig was destined for much worse than me.
They took us all to the station but since I had nothing on me, there were no charges. My fate was perhaps worse. I had to have my mom pick me up from the station.
I sat there high and waited for what felt like forever for her to drive a mile to get me. When I saw her she looked concerned but calm.
The policeman walked my mom and I outside. He told me he wanted to hear it from me, that weed was actually smoked in the car. Because the roaches were inside our stomachs, that was the only thing he couldn’t prove. But he was dumb. Why would I tell on my friends when he didn’t even have a case against me?
I told him he was crazy. I told him marijuana is medicine and he should try it instead of trying to ruin children’s lives because of it. And nope, we weren’t even smoking. Never touch the stuff. Then I walked away. My mom was more mad at me for getting smart with the cop than anything.
A couple days later I was walking through town and ran into Craig. He said said he figured I’d be grounded. But I wasn’t because technically I didn’t do anything. Craig and George both had their license suspended and had court mandated counseling called Drug Court. The program wouldn’t help and the police had been following us for a lot longer than before we got pulled over. We just didn’t know it yet.