Mapleville chapter 2 part 1
Official police business.
Once George got to work, Detective Greevy asked to speak with him.
His expression hardened. “This may be hard to hear; we got a call from your wife. Alleging Your son hit her. You know we have to take this stuff seriously. I Would like you as my backup".
George’s cheeks turned pink. “You want me to arrest my son?"
" I want you to talk to them first, and see what is up. I talked it over with Dickson , and we think it would be good for the boy if his father were to come out there."
"Do I have a choice, or is this in order?" he fidgeted with his wedding ring. "No, you don't have a choice," Captain Dickson said; as he poked his head out of his office.
"Okay, then let's go," said George.
They went off to George's house. George was not too pleased with having to go to his own home for Ricky. But he did agree that maybe him coming out there could make him behave better.
Back at home, Ricky came downstairs and was just about to leave out the front door. Gina grabbed him and said, "where in the world do you think you are going, young man? I told you, you were not going to a party tonight, especially at some kid's house I don't know."
"Get off me! Ricky jerked, pushing her short petite body away from him. I am going to that party tonight and will be back whenever.”
Gina stomped her bony foot. She stretched out her willowy arm and pointed towards the staircase. "I don't think so. You march your butt right upstairs. You’re crazy you are not leaving this house”. Gina stood in front of the door and folded her arms across her chest.
No! Bitch, your not the boss of me",
"What did you just call me?
Ricky balled his fists. "Bitch bitch bitch!" He punched her right in the eye.
Gina keeled over and brought her hand to her face. She moved out of Ricky’s way. Ricky was just about to walk out the door when he saw a cop car pulling up. He ducked back inside and ran upstairs to his room. Gina was stunned.
“For God's sake, Ricky, how could you? How in the world am I going to hide a black eye? What will George think? What will anybody think?” The
doorbell rang. Really; who the hell could that be? Gina Thought.Then she remembered about the police coming. She straighten up took a deep breadth, undid her messy ponytail and shook out her hair. The door bell rang again.
“One minute; I will be right there”, she shouted. She quickly threw her hair back into a ponytail and answered the door. Upon doing so she found one tall skinny man in a suit and tie . and one chubby, pot bellied policeman standing there. Gina stepped out onto the front porch.
"Good evening Ms. I'm Detective Greevy, and this here is officer Mar, well you know this guy. ” He turned slightly towards George. “Jackson police; we got a call earlier, something about your son hitting you. Can you please tell us what happened?" They just stared at her. Especially, George, he was not expecting to see such a black eye.
"Did your son do that?" Detective Greevy crossed his arms .
Gina was in such a daze from her son hitting her; she just stood there. She just realized that the cop standing there was her husband.
Gina just stood there with a blank look on her face.
"Hello! earth to Regina!" Shouted George. With a confused look on his face. "Did Ricky give you that black eye? When did this happen?".
Gina heard the squeals and giggles of little girls. The neighbor kids, who lived across the street were playing with a garden hose , as their parents sat on the porch and watched. Gina who cared far too much about what other people thought of her; worried about what the neighbors might think. A police car parked out front and her on her front porch talking to two men, one a uniformed policeman.
He did, in fact, he just punched me in the eye a few minutes ago. Is it that bad? She turned to the door and stepped back in. “Y’all come on inside don't want any nosey neighbors spying on me now. You can never know what they might think of me talking to some cops,” she said.
George and Detective Greevy came inside the living room.
“This whole mess started this morning,” Gina continued. "Ricky asked me if he could go to a party at some kid's house tonight. I told him no because I did not know this kid.” she yawned; covering her mouth with her hand. “Excuse me,” she half mumbled. George tugged at his shirt collar. Gina continued. “I did not feel comfortable letting him go. He got mad. Her eyes filled with tears. He punched me right in the arm.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I was upset and didn't want anyone to find out, but I changed my mind and called y'all. Just not too long ago “Ricky was trying to leave and go to the party I think.” Gina scratched her head. I wanted to stop him. Tears ran down her cheeks she looked away. it all happened so fast, next thing I know; bam he punched me in my eye.”
"Well, I want to talk to him right now! Is he upstairs? George turned towards the stare case on the left side of the room. Ricardo Emanuel Martinez, you get your ass down here now! I need a word with you," he shouted.
Gina stood slightly behind George. "George, calm down it is all right I'll get him."
Detective Greevy turned slightly and crossed his arms. He was standing a bit back from George and Gina. He was just observing, but he was ready to help if anything happened.
" George turned around and faced Gina . No, it's not all right Honey, Ricky does not have the right to place his hands on you. What Ricky did is wrong and a crime".
At first glance, Ricky would seem like an average teenager. He certainly did not look like a punk or the kind of kid that would go around beating up his mother. But of course, looks can be quite deceiving. Ricky was upstairs in his room. He started pacing back and fourth. He was furious about the cops being there. “Why the hell did she call the police? I didn't do nothing."
. He came out to see what all the commotion was about. Gina put her hand on the banister post and called up to Ricky, who was standing on the very top of the stairs. "Come down here boy these very nice gentlemen want to talk to you,"
Ricky’s face went blank for a split second, then he scowled and crossed his arms. He pursed his lips. Ricky said absolutely nothing he just flipped Gina the bird. “No! I don’t want to talk to nobody. Leave me a lone bitch and go to hell.”
George who was standing at the bottom of the staircase next to Gina could not believe what he was seeing and hearing. He just stood there for a few seconds. He sighed and placed his hands on his hips. “Don't you talk to your mother like that, and why are you beating her up? You don't have the right to put your hands on anyone. He said.
Ricky did a double-take, couldn't believe what he just heard. “No way, that policeman sounded like Dad, but it couldn't be, could it?”
Ricky stood on the top step and brushed his dark brown hair away from his hazel eyes to get a better look. His face went white.
"Are you okay, boy, it looks like you just saw a ghost," said George.
Ricky cracked his knuckles. “What the hell?”
He shifted from one foot to the other. “Why are you here?"
“I'm conducting official police business." Gina just stood there half in a daze. Detective Greevy came over to Gina and lightly tapped her on the shoulder. “excuse me; ma'am can I please talk to you in the other room?"
Gina jumped slightly and turned. She faced Detective Greevy . “Okay, sure, that's fine we can talk in the kitchen if you like.”
They stood by the counter. Detective Greevy put his back up against the counter and folded his arms across his chest. his forehead wrinkled.
"Ricky hit you today?"
"yes I'm quite sick of him using me as a punching bag!" Gina crossed her arms.
"Was anybody else here that could have seen him hit you."
"No, I was home alone with him."
"Would you like to press charges, ma'am."
"Press charges? Her eyebrows rose. You mean, I have my son sent to jail.”
"Yes.” Detective Greevy crinkled his nose and his upper lip began to curl. “if you press charges we would take your son to Jail."
"I was hoping by having you come here he would learn his lesson. No jail.”
Detective Greevy wondered what fantasy planet this broad thought she was living on. It would be great if all he had to do was show up, and yell at people, and they would magically change their ways. committing no more crimes. But he new that ninety-nine percent of the time it took a lot more then a stern talking to get people to change their ways. Having three teenagers of his own he new that teens need more then a stern talking to. They need structure, discipline, and consequences.
" He rested his hand on his hip. I feel like just our presence here is not enough to get through to your son. But there is one thing. This program called straighten up; it is specifically for at-risk youth. Your son would get to experience jail just for a full twenty-four hours without getting a criminal record. Your son is a prime candidate for it. Is this something you would be interested in?"
"No, don't take my son. She gave him a dirty look; a look of fear swept across her face. She was in total denial. “I should have never called. My son is not a bad person."
Detective Greevy glanced up at the ceiling. People like her really piss him off. Does this broad really think what her son did is acceptable behavior and no further action is needed. No wonder this kid is out of control, he slapped his forehead and shook his head; he took a deep breadth raised his head and continued . That’s fine if you don’t want to press charges. Well we are going to talk with your son anyways and see what is going on. Now I won't lie to you there's a very good chance we will arrest him tonight."
She fought back the tears. Oh, Really, but why? If I don't want to press charges."
"Well for starters, because of your black eye I have probable cause to believe that the crime of domestic assault was committed. You told me yourself that your son hit you; also I noticed that you have a bruise on your arm. It looks to me like a fist made it. I highly doubt you punched yourself in the face and the arm ma'am. Please don't take me for a fool. As a sworn officer of the law, I have to uphold the law. It is illegal for your son or anybody for that matter, to hit or punch you hard enough to leave a mark".
Ricky was still standing at the top of the stairs with his hands on his hips. Head cocked to the right; wishing his dad at the bottom would go away.
"are you going to talk to me or not son cause I am not leaving here until we have a little chat," said George.
He stood at the bottom of the stairs with his back straight, arms crossed, and feet wide.
"Yo, you on crack! What if I don't want to talk to a fucking Dick like you?"
"Then we will have problems."
"Dad, please go away! I don't want to talk to you. I have nothing to say about mom except she crazy bat shit crazy."
Ricky was hoping he could convince his dad to sweep this whole mess under the rug. He had no such luck. George could have cared less that Ricky was his son right then. He had already decided to treat him like any other kid he could encounter on a call like this.
"What you know about your mother having a black eye?"
Ricky looked down; wouldn't look George straight in the face. He shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Nothing! I didn't do it."
George instinctively put his hand on his weapon.
"So, you know nothing of why we are here tonight. It is obvious that something happened; your mother has a pretty good purple shiner on her right eye, and you are saying nothing is going on. How did she get it? She did not give it to herself. Did she?"
Still not looking up at him, Ricky said, "I don't know; she fell and hit her face."
"She is claiming you gave it to her. And you know what I believe her; this is not my first rodeo son. Come here! With his index finger he pointed at the ground by his feet. Can you please take your hands out of your pockets?"
"Why? Ricky looked George dead in the eyes. You're not the boss of me!” He shouted
" George stared back at Ricky. “Take your hand out of your pockets. You may have weapons."
Ricky rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure I got a glock thirty-two handgun in my pocket okay whatever," Ricky mumbled under his breath. Ricky noticed George had his hand on what seemed to be his gun; probably ready to draw if he needed to. He wouldn’t draw his gun on me I’m his son for god sake. But I did just say something about having a gun.
A look of fear came a cross Ricky’s face. Ricky removed his hands from his pockets. He put his hands up. His palms facing George. “see I have nothing”.
George relaxed a bit and removed his hand from his taser. Ricky came down the stairs with his hands still up. He thought he could make a run for it and leave out the front door; he did not believe George would do anything. Ricky noticed
Detective Greevy was standing in the door way of the kitchen facing the living room, He was quite tall and slender. He was standing with his right arm straight out leaning on the door frame. He was chewing on a toothpick. he was just watching; in case George needed help he could jump in at moment notice. Ricky turned towards the door, but George grabbed him by the arm and said: "where you think you're going?"
Gina stood just to the right of Detective Greevy with her back against the wall with her left foot propped up on the wall. Gina’s eyes widened.
George was behind Ricky. He gave him a tug, nothing. So George. grabbed both of Ricky’s wrists firmly and pulled his hands behind his back.
George steered him over to the wall by the front door and pushed his face up against it. Not roughly but firmly; he had his knee between his legs, so Ricky had nowhere to go. He ordered Ricky to step back.
"why are you doing this to me, Dad?” Ricky pleaded.
George did not answer; he just ordered Ricky to step back again; pinching and pulling his hands a little bit at the same time; Not abusively, only making his point. Although he wasn't yelling, there was a no-nonsense kind of bite to his voice. The tone of George's voice scared Ricky, and he complied. George tapped Ricky's foot with his foot and said, "spread your feet."
Ricky obeyed, he was off balance; his chest was leaning against the wall, and his feet spread; Ricky was feeling pretty helpless. He begged him to stop and let him go. Ignoring him, George told him to keep his hands behind his back.
He let go of his left arm for a moment, and of course, Ricky tried pulling it away. George was practically expecting that; caught it almost immediately, but this time, Ricky felt something more than just his hand; he felt something cold and hard.
He finally figured out what was coming, but he was too scared and shocked to resist. Using his left-hand George brought the cuff down on his right wrist; Ricky felt a momentary sharp pain as the cuff rotated around his wrist bone and caught. George then seized Ricky's left hand with his right hand and applied the other cuff to his left wrist. By this time, Ricky was in tears; not sobbing uncontrollably, but crying.
Gina, couldn't believe what she saw . Did her husband just put handcuffs on their son and treat him like a criminal? She wanted to go over there and pull her husband off him and tell him to let her baby go; that this was all a big misunderstanding and a mistake, their son was not a criminal. But she decided that it would not be too smart to interfere with an official police officer on duty. Tears spilled onto her cheeks.