Preacherman Blues 1 by Jihad

Author:Jihad [Jihad]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Contemporary Fiction, Teen & Young Adult, Contemporary, Literature & Fiction
Amazon: B001IDZ9DG
Publisher: Envisions Publishing
Published: 2008-09-02T04:00:00+00:00

“B

ishop, come on, Man. Let ‘s go. It‘s yard call. Time to give us sinners some of that good God game,‖ one of the young brothers doing time in the county jail said after jumping off his bunk and heading toward the dorm‘s steel door.

Percival was lying across his top bunk reading Last Man Standing, the Geronimo Pratt story.

In many ways he felt like the man he was reading about. The former minister of defense for the Black Panthers had spent twenty-six years in prison before his conviction was overturned. Twenty-six years for a murder he couldn‘t have committed. Geronimo Pratt had been set up, just as Percival had been, nearly five months ago.

Percival climbed down from his bunk, having no idea what he was going to discuss out on the yard. He really didn‘t feel like moving. He would‘ve been content staying inside the concrete walls of the Fulton County Jail, but he couldn‘t. He‘d been ministering to the brothers on the rec yard everyday since arriving, and he couldn‘t stop now. They were hungry for the mind food he cooked up from the recipes of knowledge he‘d received and was receiving from the ancestors he read about every day.

―Yo, B, hurry up, ‘fore they close the doors,‖ another inmate called out.

He‘d been in the county lockup for 121 days. Last week, the attorney that had been appointed, urged him to accept thedeal he‘d been offered three months ago, back in January.

If he‘d plead to petty theft, terroristic threats, and simple battery, the hundred-thousand-dollar bond would‘ve been reduced and he would‘ve been released until the sentencing hearing. And even then, he would‘ve only been facing two years probation and a hundred hours of community service.

―Yo, Bish, what‘s on your mental?‖ a young brother named Hassan asked.

Two men from two different generations, two different religions, faced with the same problem, walked side by side out to the concrete, fenced-in rec yard.

―I was just thinking about the offer my attorney presented me with.‖

―Don‘t let yo‘ public pretender get in yo‘ head. How many times I done tol‘ you. They ain‘t got nothin‘ on you, Bish. It‘s yo‘ word against Bishop Cashmoney‘s. You need to file pro seand represent yo‘ damn self.‖

―That‘d be suicide. I don‘t know anything about law.‖

He shook his head. ―Yo‘ public pretender don‘t, either. Come on, Bish, you think he care about what happens to you? Don‘t matter if he Black or White, what he care about is green, and you ain‘t the one breakin‘ him off. The system that got you in here is feedin‘ him.‖

Hassan had a point. In the very beginning, when they had initially met, Percival told his attorney, Mr. Jarvis, that he wanted a jury trial. He made it very clear to the man that he wasn‘t interested in pleading to crimes he didn‘t commit. And yet, several months later, Cornell Jarvis was still trying to convince him to take the deal.

Hassan continued, ―Atlanta may have a black mayor, police chief, and city government, but they all just Master‘s overseers.

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