(Intermittent Waves Recorded From The Transformed Heart Of A Woman)




"Did you find him, yet?!"


"No, Mr. Siegfried, we're sorry. We're still looking, but, we haven't heard from Sam and his crew, yet."


"Why did he go out there protesting and get arrested, not having his wallet on him anyway?"


"He told Sam he didn't want anybody in the crowd picking his pocket. Sam tried to grab him before the police got to him, but, the crowd was pushing and shoving and even overran the police. Sam saw Carolyn go down and start to get trampled, he reached down to get her, and when he looked up. the crowd had gotten violent and started to riot. The police had your father putting him in the van and fighting off the crowd. Sam couldn't get near them. He's all torn up about it and says he won't come back without him."


"He could be in a hospital. Did you check the hospitals, Jake?"


"Definitely, Hal. We're still checking, periodically."




"Hal, please calm down."




Zenobia hurried to wrap her arms around Hal to comfort him. Hal hid his face in her shoulder and she stroked his hair.


Headlights flooded the room, turning the windows white. Holding his hands up to protect his eyes, Jake strained to identify the car when it turned.




Jake ran to the front door, flinging it open, and called out to Sam.


"Sam! Did you find him?!"


Sam opened the car door and bolted to the door.


"I need Mr. Siegfried to come with me, NOW!"


"You found him, Sam!"


"Yes! I think so."


"You think so? Sam, is he alive?!"


"Yes, I mean I'm not sure it's him."


"What? What do you mean?"


"They have this crazy old man locked up at the ninth precinct police station calling himself, Kunta Kente."


"Yep, sounds like him. Better tell the boss."






Hal called one of  his attorneys and had them check with the ninth precinct police station.  The attorney called back and said that, from the description of the man, it definitely sounded like his father.   







"Next case!"


"That's me Your Honor!"

"Whaaat?! Is there someone here representing this man?!"

"Your Honor, I've been appointed by the court to represent him."

"Counselor, does your client have a real name?"

"So far, he's only answering to Kunta Kente."

"Sir, tell us your real name or I'll have to hold you in contempt of court."

"My name is David Siegfried Graves and I'm the grandson of President Willard Graves!"

The courtroom filled with uncontrollable laughter, as the judge pounded her gavel and shouted for order.


"Your Honor my client doesn't know what he's saying. He's informed me that he has a serious health condition which requires daily professional care. I'm requesting that he be released on bail immediately to receive medical treatment."

"I don't want to be released."

The courtroom ripped with laughter.


"Counselor, is your client able to obtain bail for release?"

"I have lots of money--millions--billions of dollars. I'm the richest Black man in the world!"

Everyone in the courtroom, once again, burst into laughter. The judge was beside herself.



"Counselor, is your client mentally stable?"

"Your Honor, I believe my client needs immediate medical attention that can't be received while he is incarcerated and I request that he be released on bail."

"Well, according to the charges I can't release him on a signature bond and he says he doesn't want to go. Is that right, Mr. Siegfried?"

"Yes, Your Honor. I do not want to be released."

"May I ask why Mr. Siegfried? Is someone threatening to harm you?"

"No, Your Honor. I'm innocent. I'm innocent and I want the world to know that I'm innocent and I was racially profiled and falsely arrested because I'm a Black man. Two little white boys threw those water bottles at the police and I was the first Black man the police set their eyes on, so, they arrested me, and the crowd tried to protect me, and the riot started, and now, I'm here. We were protesting peacefully, until the police started beating us."

"So, you're staging a protest now in jail, Mr. Siegfried?"

"Yes ma'am. I am protesting systemic racism and police brutality."

"Were you injured, Mr. Siegfried?"

"I'm an old, sick man and it doesn't take much. I intend to sue for damages, when I'm released."

"If you're injured, we can have you taken care of and release you, now. Do you have money or collateral for bail?"

"Yes, ma'am. I have plenty of money--billions, but, I'm protesting bail money, too. That's why Black people can't stay out of jail. It's rigged to keep poor people locked up. So, I'm not leaving until the world knows what happened. So, I'll do whatever I have to do to protest."

"You're not going to go on a hunger strike are you, Mr. Siegfried, in your condition?"

"No, Your Honor, I like to eat."

The courtroom roared with laughter.


"Yes, ma'am!"

"And, if it happens again, clear the whole courtroom!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Mr. Siegfried, do you understand the charges that you are facing? --Assaulting officers of the law, resisting arrest, inciting a riot..."

"Those people were trying to protect me from police brutality and unlawful arrest."

"Mr. Siegfried, do not interrupt me!"

"I'm sorry, I apologize, Your Honor. I've never done this before. I've never been in trouble."

"You're facing serious time, Mr. Siegfried. Do you want to die in prison? Maybe you should reconsider bail."

"No, Your Honor, I'm going to die anyway. If I can do something to help prevent other people from being oppressed and killed, I don't mind dying in prison."

"Do you have next of kin, or someone we can notify that you're here who might be able to persuade you to change your mind?"

"I have a son, and the Graves Family, but, my son has nothing to do with this and I'm protesting against my family. This is my decision, alone."

"Counselor, we will set Mr. Siegfried's hearing for, Ms. Andrews..."

"Wednesday, May fifth at ten a.m."

"Thank you, Ms. Andrews, Mr. Siegfried, you are dismissed."

"Your Honor,..."

"Counselor, your client has rights and he has decided not to pay bail. Meanwhile, I suggest that you contact his son and contact a psychiatrist."

"Thank you, Your Honor, for sticking up for me. You seem like a very nice lady. Are you single?"

The judge looked down at David Siegfried through her small, wire-rimmed glasses and smiled.

"If you EVER want to get out of jail, don't try to flirt with the judge."

"No, I have a friend in Charlottesville who's a retired judge. You two would be perfect together..."








Published by Mishael T