Friday, 19 December 2008

• A Brother Like Me

  The police come knocking one day on Belinda’s father’s door, looking for Mike. “I get a call from Belinda’s daddy, saying, ‘hey Mike, the police out here looking for you. You better get yourself over there and explain yourself.’ I say, ‘I didn’t do nothing!’”

  Mike and I are standing in front of the food court again. He looks haggard as he relays his story.

  “They got me on jaywalking charges. You know those cameras they put up on intersections to catch red light runners? Two years ago they caught me jaywalking at 3AM across an empty intersection, no cars on either side. The other jaywalking charges they say they have on me they don’t even have evidence for! Can you believe it?!”

  Mike walked into the police station to see what the fuss was all about. They told him that he’d have to pay a $400 fine, or do 40 hours of community service. Incredible.

  “Look, man,” Mike is weary. “They’re looking to get me on anything they can. First it’s for sittin’ on a milk crate, or playing my boombox, and now this. You know what?” Mike lowers his voice. “They’re doing a crackdown. They’re just trying to clean up, clean this place up before the holidays.”

  Every semester, the Berkeley Police rounds up the homeless in Berkeley and shuffles them out before parents picking up their students can see them. It’s just how it works.

  “I got a place, this church, where I know I can do my hours. But man! I can’t believe this. And my birthday’s coming up on the 23rd, right before Christmas. Hah!”

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