02/18/01

Phebe called me first thing this morning, asked me to go to Newburgh to pick up the baby from his grandmother’s house on Lander Street. She said the grandmother has been really sick lately with diabetes and went into the hospital last night after going into a coma. Phebe said Mookie’s mother has been running the streets again and is nowhere to be found. Baby’s been in the care of the step-grandfather---Fauntleroy---since yesterday. Fauntleroy is this old Jamaican dude, once was a big name years ago in professional cricket. Phebe said Fauntleroy is desperate to be relieved, not sure how much longer he could hold up caring for the baby. He’s got the baby’s grandmother to worry about too. She said I should bring Mookie back to the house--- not that God-forsaken trailer. Said she’ll relieve me when she gets back.

Why don’t you pick up the baby on your way home from work? I ask

Who says I have work today? She says all annoyed.

You home right now? I ask.

No, I’m not. She answers.

Well, where the hell are you? I ask.

That’s really none of your business, she says.

Well how the hell am I gonna get in the house? How am I gonna pay for gas and things might be needed for the baby?

Phebe gives me instructions where to find a house key. Tells me how to turn off the new security system. Says I can find a hundred dollars in her underwear drawer.

Well, where the hell are you? I have to ask again.

I’ll be back tonight to take over care of the baby, she says. That’s all you need to know. Get going and get that baby!

Yeah, what kind of monkey business that woman was up to, I’d sure like to know.