‘Have you seen her try it?’
‘Uh… once. I chewed her out about it. Told her not to do it again.’
‘But, as you have told me and as she says herself, she doesn’t like to take orders.
And apparently did not take yours. I wonder if it’s the janitor at her present
school?’
‘Uh, it could be a teacher just as easily. Or one of the seniors, a Big Man on
Campus. Or a book store. Lots of places. Mama, they clean up the neighbourhood
dealers every now and then – doesn’t make the least bit of difference; there’s a new
pusher the next week. The way I hear it, it’s the same everywhere.’
I sighed. ‘It beats me, Donald. I’ll get you a blanket to pull over you.’
‘Mama, why can’t I sleep in my own bed?’
‘Because you’re not supposed to be here at all. The only reason you’re being
indulged even this much is because I don’t think it is safe to let you go back on
the road without something to eat and a few hours sleep.’
I went back to bed, could not sleep. After about an hour I got up and did something
I should have done earlier: I searched the maid’s room.
I found the stash. It was between the mattress and the mattress cover, at the foot
of the bed. I was tempted to taste the least trace of it, having some notion from
biochemistry of what cocaine should taste like – but I had sense enough – or was
chicken enough – not to risk it; there are street drugs that are dangerous in the
tiniest amounts. I took it back up with me, locked it, the ‘grass’ and the cigarette
papers, and the mirror and blade, into a lock box I keep in my bedroom.
They won. I lost. They were too much for me.
I brought Priscilla home, cured but sullen as ever. Two Public Health officers, a
man and a woman, called on us (Jim’s doing, with my co-operation) almost as we were
taking off our coats. They wanted to know, gently and politely, Priscilla’s contacts
– who could have given the bugs to her and to whom she could have passed them on.
‘What infections? I’m not ill, I never was ill. I’ve been held against my will in a
conspiracy! Kidnapped and held prisoner! I’m going to sue somebody!’
‘But, Miss Smith, we have copies of your lab tests and your medical history. Here,
look at them.’
Priscilla brushed them aside. ‘Lies! I’m not going to say another word without my
lawyer.’
At which point I made yet another mistake. ‘But, Priscilla, I am a lawyer; you know
that. What they’re asking is quite reasonable, a matter of public health.’
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I have never been looked at with such contempt. ‘You’re not my lawyer. You’re ore of
the ones I’m going to sue. And these two characters, too, if they don’t quit
heckling me.’ She turned her back and went upstairs.
I apologised to the two Public Health officers. I’m sorry, Mr Wren and Mrs Lantry,
but I can’t do anything with her, as you can see. I’m afraid you’ll have to get her
on the witness stand and under oath to get anything out of her.’
Mr Wren shook his head. ‘It would not work. In the first place, we have no way to
put her on the stand; she has not broken any laws that we know of. And we don’t know
of anyone who has. In the second place, a youngster with her attitude simply takes
the Fifth Amendment and shuts up.’
‘I’m not sure she knows what the Fifth Amendment is.’
‘You can bet she does, Mrs Johnson. Today all these kids are street smart and every
ore of them is a chimney-corner lawyer, even in a rich neighbourhood like this ore.
Put ore on the stand and he’ll holler for a lawyer and the ACLU will supply one
pronto. The ACLU figures it is more important to protect a teenager’s right to clam
up than it is to protect some other teenager from infection and sterility.’