"Are you there, God? It's me Stanley." I cried out these words because I was in a sincere state of desperation. I had called out to him before, but as I look in retrospect, I didn't mean it. You see, I was caught up in so much stuff that I really didn't have time for all that religious jazz, even though I was brought up in church. You see in the Wright household, mom made sure we attended Sunday school and church every Sunday. My dad walked out on us when I was five years, so that left mom, my sister Emily, and myself. My mom worked part-time and also received public assistance, and we lived in public housing.
Mom never talked about dad leaving, and I never asked, but you could see physically it was taking a toll on her, but you could hear her sometimes whisper, "Lord, give me strength." Even though mom always made it a practice to present a tower of strength before her children and family, I will always remember hearing her crying in her bedroom, and that left an indelible memory in me. I guess it was a combination of everything our family was going through which caused my frustration remembering my mom cry, her struggling to keep food on the table, and my dad abandoning us. I was seventeen at this point and I decided to drop out of school to help my family. I figured I could always get my GED later, my family needed me right now. After all, I was old enough to become the man of the house, and they needed me. My sister is two years younger than me, and she's just entering the ninth grade.
I found it very difficult to find work because no one wanted to hire a high school drop-out. After several weeks of putting in applications and getting turned away, I would accept any type of employment. I was desperate. Just when I thought nothing would come to the surface, a fast-food restaurant which I had applied called me to interview for a dishwasher position. We set up the interview time for the following day. Things were starting to look up for me. I can finally help my mom and sister. The following day, I made sure I was ahead of the agreed time. I was dressed in a clean white shirt, freshly clean and ironed black pants, black gym shoes. If I would have had a suit, I would have worn it. However, it's a good thing I didn't because less than five seconds after shaking hands with the interviewer, he says, "Can you start right now?" I was momentarily taken aback. and when I managed to catch my breath, I stuttered, "Sure!" He told me that I will replacing someone else who recently quit but didn't give a reason why. He also told me that I would start off with four hours a day, three days a week. I was expecting full time, but something was better than nothing, I guess. When we left his office, he escorted me to the kitchen and introduced me to the staff, then told a Hispanic worker named Roberto to show me the ropes. First, he showed me a stack of plates and silverware sitting on a plastic tray. Roberto didn't talk much, so I gathered showing me was better than explaining. He picked up a plate one at a time, took a large spatula, wiped off the food, and placed each one in the sudsy water in the first sink. There were three sinks...one marked WASH..the second RINSE..and the last SANITIZE. After running each dish and silverware through each sink, he placed them in this large machine with two silver doors, one in the front and one in the rear. he grabbed the handle at the bottom of the machine and slid the door upward. He then carefully places the plates, cups, and silverware in the proper place in the rack, closes the door, and pushes the green start button. Amid the loud roar of the machine and the water running, he then turns and gestures, as if he's saying, that's all to it.
The job itself was simple, but the hard part was how fast the dishes were coming. By the end of my four hours, I was drained. However, I thanked God for having the job. It seemed like the next two weeks came very quickly, and finally it was payday. I was so excited that I was going to receive my very first paycheck. As the manager handed me my envelope, I quickly opened it with an expectation of coming into a financial landfall. However, as I read the amount on the check, Gross: $123.60, Federal tax: $25.00, State tax: $25.00, Net pays $73.60. I felt like I couldn't breathe, just as if someone punched me in my chest.
I thought to myself that this is no money at all. How can I be the man of the house with this little money? I thought I would be able to take some pressure off my mom by paying at least one bill, and buying myself one outfit, but I could see this wasn't going to happen. I went home and told my mom what my check was, and she simply said, "God will make a way." I signed the check over to her and told her to just keep it. I tried to keep a straight face in front of her, but inside there was a seething volcano, so I told mom I was going to take a walk to clear my head. I hadn't gone far from the house when three police cars surrounded me with their guns drawn, as they exited their vehicles. As I glared into the cherries and blueberries, one of them yelled out, "Stop, and place your hands in the air," the voice commanded. I did exactly as the voice told me because I was always taught to obey the law. As the police came upon me, thoughts were racing through my mind. I tried to figure out what this was all about. I never broke the law because that would break my mother's heart. I was nervous but I knew I was innocent of any crime. One officer told me to place my hands on the car and assume the position. He frisked me while the other two officers kept their weapons drawn on me. The officer then handcuffed me and read me my rights. Before I could ask what the charges were, he informed me I was under arrest for suspicion of an armed robbery in the area, and that I fit the description of the suspect. I told the officer that it couldn't have been me because I hadn't been too long left work and then went straight home to give my mom my check. "You will get a chance to tell your story downtown," he replied.
"Call my mom, she will tell you I'm not lying. Also call my job," I blurted. They placed me into the squad car and took me to the local precinct. I was taken to an interrogation room. Soon after, a detective came in, introduced himself, and said he was waiting on my mother to arrive, and that he couldn't question a minor without a parent being present. He then stepped out of the room. I was very nervous because this was my first time in a police station. I had never been in trouble before, nor caused any trouble. Why was this happening, I thought to myself. First, working so hard to help my family, and now arrested for suspicion of armed robbery! I've never seen a gun; except on television or held one. I imagined all kinds of thoughts. "What if they don't believe my mom or my job?" I have heard of the police not believing a person's story. Now my nervousness has come into full blown fear. My mom always taught us to always call on God to help us, so I cried out, "Are you there God, It's me Stanley..." At that moment the detective and my mother walked into the room. My mom hugged me and consoled me. She had a bright smile on her face as she said, "Let's go home son." The detective then said the charges were all dropped because my story was verified by my mother and my job
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