Now Jus has to tread carefully. He knows what he says next will either create a solid foundation for his outlandish request or give Martel every reason in the world to call the request outlandish. He kicks his shoulders up in a strategic shrug. “Really just trying to encourage him. One of my high school teachers took over as his educational coordinator, and he asked me to help Quan keep his head high.” A lie, but a necessary one. “He got his high school diploma.”

       Martel lights up like the fireplace blazes Justyce got used to seeing all around New Haven in the wintertime. “Did he, now?”

   “Mmmhmm.”

   “Well, do the damn thing then, Vernell!”

   Justyce smiles. This is going better than he expected.

   “That same teacher also got him a new lawyer,” Justyce continues, jumping in with both feet. “There’s a chance Quan—Vernell’s—rights were violated the night of his arrest.”

   Martel’s not smiling anymore. “Can’t say I’d be surprised.”

   “Well, if they were, he could very easily be acquitted. Really, depending on the severity, the whole case could get thrown out—”

   “I’m fully aware of how the legal system works, young buck.”

   Whoops.

   “Well, that’s why I’m here,” Jus says. “The lawyer’s working hard, and if Quan winds up getting to go free…”

   “I’m listening.”

   (Has this dude not heard of context clues? Damn.)

   “I guess, uhh…what I’m tryna say is…” Deep breath, Jus. “Umm…if he gets out…would you, uhh—”

       “I’m not a fan of all the uhhs and umms, young brutha. Say what you mean and mean what you say. Before I run out of patience.”

   Shit.

   “Well, I’m here to ask: If he gets out, will you let him free too?”

   “Let him free? What you think, I hold people hostage?”

   Backtrack, backtrack. “No, no, that’s not what I mean—”

   “So what do you mean?”

   Okay. Maybe a different angle…“I mean you no disrespect, sir—”

   “Quit with the ‘sir’ shit, Justyce. Just get to the point. While you still got the chance.”

   MAYDAY, MAYDAY…

   “Look, Quan’s been working real hard. He’s finally got a suppo—uhh, I mean a teacher who sees a lot of promise in him. He’s got a case manager who actually cares and a counselor really helping him work through some stuff. And he’s seeing a potential future for himself, which is something I don’t think he had much of a vision for before.”

   A corner of Martel’s mouth ticks up, and Jus wants to ask what he’s smiling about, but he resists. “What I’m saying is he’s able to see a different path now. He has no idea I’m here—would likely be real mad if he knew—but I truly believe he has a lot to offer the world, and with a little bit of help, he can pursue his dreams.”

   “And what dreams are those, Justyce?”

       Damn!

   “Well, I can’t say specifically, but I know he wants to take care of his mom and sister and set a good example for his brother.”

   Martel doesn’t respond this time.

   “As I said before, I mean you no disrespect, Martel. And as you suggested, my coming here is a sign that I see this as life or death. I think we both know that if Quan gets out—when Quan gets out, cuz I really believe he will—he’s gonna seek out the familiar. Then all of his hard work will’ve been for naught. So I’m asking you to NOT let him back in. With you. And your guys.”

   Martel’s eyes narrow to slits and his head slooooowly tilts to one side.

   So that’s it then. Justyce is officially a dead man.

   He knows his life is about to end when Martel looks him over head to toe and back again, then leans back in his rounded throne and crosses his arms. With a smirk. “You got a lotta damn nerve, boy.”

   There’s no way Jus can hold the eye contact now. But he refuses to let his chin drop. Instead, he fixes his gaze on the poster of Huey Newton hanging over Martel’s head. He learned all about dude in his History of the African American Experience course this past semester. That was a dude with “nerve”—

   “What’s in it for me?” Martel suddenly says.

   Which certainly gets Justyce’s attention. “Huh?”

       “You come up in here with this outlandish-ass request…What do I get out of it?”

   “Uhh—”

   “There you go with the uhhs again, Justyce.”

   “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Justyce gulps, looking everywhere except at Martel. Even though he knows he’s gonna have to when he asks the next question.

   So he does. “What…do you want?”

   “That teacher.”

   “Huh?”

   “The one who helped Vernell get his diploma. I want him here twice a week. Working with my boys so they can get their GEDs.”

   “Oh.” Hope this doesn’t backfire…“I’m sure he’d be cool with that.”

   “And Vernell can never come back here.”

   Jus doesn’t know what to say to that.

   “Ever. Matter fact, get his family outta here too. I don’t wanna see none of them. Far as I’m concerned Vernell Banks doesn’t exist. I see anything or anyone that suggests otherwise, we got a problem. Understood?”

   “Yeah.” What the hell is Jus even agreeing to right now? Uproot and replant a whole family?

   “Lastly: his debt will have to be repaid. With interest. In a timely manner.”

   Jus wants to ask how a person who doesn’t exist can owe a debt, but now doesn’t seem like the time for jokes. “Heard.”

       “I’ll have Trey contact you with those details. Understand that I’m holding you personally responsible. Something goes awry…”

   Martel cuts Jus a look that lets him know he definitely, 100 percent does not want a single solitary thing to go awry.

   “Responsibility accepted, sir—I mean…”

   And Martel smiles. Warmly. “You a trip, man. Vernell is lucky. Most dudes around here don’t get a friend like you. Keep it up.”

   “Oh. Thanks.”