The Color of Law_ A Novel - Mark Gimenez [111]
Scott smiled. “Yeah, her name’s Pajamae; she’s a great kid. You got kids?”
Big Charlie nodded. “Two girls, seven and ten.”
“I bet you’re a good dad.”
“I love those two kids more than football.”
“They’re lucky then. Anyway, Pajamae was down in the projects by herself, so I went down there and got her—”
“You went into the projects? By yourself?”
“Yeah, in a Ferrari.”
Big Charlie’s head rolled back, and he let out a belly laugh. “White boy in a Ferrari down in the projects—that must’ve been a sight! I’m amazed you got out alive!”
“I had a friend, Louis. He ran interference for me, like you used to. He’s living with us now, too. Anyway, first night, Pajamae did my daughter’s hair in cornrows. Rebecca damn near fainted.”
Big Charlie smiled. “How you doing since she left?”
Scott shook his head. “I only cry at night.”
“That’s ’cause you got heart, Scotty. You cried when we won and you cried when we lost. You cried ’cause you cared, about winning, about your team, about me. You know, Scotty, I never told you, but you were my hero.”
Scott must have appeared shocked, because Charlie said, “No, man, I mean it. A hundred ninety-three yards against Texas—nobody does that! You wouldn’t quit and you wouldn’t let me quit. Twenty-three end sweeps that day, pulling my big butt around right end, then left end, then right end: I thought I was gonna die right out there on the field. But I’d look at you, getting the crap beat out of you every play but getting up and never quitting…man, you were tough.”
Scott sighed. “Life is tougher.”
“No, it ain’t. You’re forgetting your heart. Look inside yourself, it’s still there. Scotty, God gave you a gift back then, your athletic ability. But what we did out there, that was just a game. That girl’s life, that ain’t no game.” He put his hand on Scott’s shoulder. “Scotty, don’t you see? God’s given you a better gift than being a football star. You’ve got the ability to save that girl’s life.”
Scott looked at Big Charlie, who had given everything he had to Scott Fenney on a football field; and now, on a football field again, he had given Scott even more. At that moment, Scott realized that he needed Shawanda Jones as much as she needed him. He needed to be her hero. It was who he was. It was who he wanted to be again. It was what had been missing in his life. Scott was brought out of his thoughts when the bells at the Methodist church on the campus rang out.
“Shit, what time is it?” Scott asked.
“Noon, straight up,” Big Charlie said.
“Damn, I’m late!” Scott held his hand out, but Big Charlie bear-hugged him again. Scott said, “Thanks, my friend.”
And he ran toward the Emerald City.
United States District Court Judge Samuel Buford was sitting in his chambers behind his desk checking his watch. Twelve-thirty. No Scott Fenney. He wasn’t going to show.
Sam Buford sighed. He had thought there was hope for young A. Scott Fenney, Esq. But he had thought wrong. Fenney had the brains to be a hero, no doubt; and Buford had hoped he still had the heart. But now he saw that he didn’t. There was no hope for Scott Fenney…or for Shawanda Jones…or for the law.
At that very moment, Sam Buford decided to retire.
His time had come. He would retire and tend to his garden. Clear out those weeds, till the soil, plant carrots and squash and cabbage and tomatoes, maybe go organic; get that garden in good shape, something he hadn’t had time to do since…well, ever. Yep, time to put down the gavel and pick up the hoe.
He buzzed his secretary on the intercom and said he needed to dictate several orders. First order, postpone the trial date in United States of America versus Shawanda Jones. Second order, substitute counsel for Scott Fenney. But who? Herrin? The boy was a good writer, no doubt about it; but the defendant needed a hero, not a writer. He wished he were still Samuel Buford, attorney-at-law. He’d take her case. He’d be her hero. But he was Judge Samuel Buford. Soon to be a retired judge. Third order, dictate his resignation letter. As usual, Helen was prompt. In seconds the door swung open and