By Alan Prendergast
By Michael Roberts
By Michael Roberts
By Amber Taufen
By Patricia Calhoun
By William Breathes
By Michael Roberts
By Melanie Asmar
They didn't look hard enough. Once out of jail, Baby G confessed that she had a quarter-ounce of crack divided into two bags shoved so far up her ass that they'd stayed put even when the cops had ordered her to bend over, spread 'em and cough. "Now's the bad part," she said. "Now I gotta go and get it."
Put it like this, I'll have to put them together, Baby Girl to help me to take a stand to do what's better.
See me I always do all the talk.
But Baby Girl has been known to walk the talk.
It just takes time sometimes to understand, and realize my one true plan.
The lord above has set a goal for each one of us when we become whole.
See now listen to this one day I was given a vision, and at that time, still did not make the right decision.
I had fallen asleep and dreamt of the end but woke up only to these bars and the ladies within.
On April 25, Baby G was headed to Empowerment to see Clayton. She stopped to check herself out in a window and liked what she saw. New clothes, her hair pulled back, a new ring. The outer corners of her eyes were painted out like arrowheads.
She was on the phone with her mother. "Everything's going good, Mom," she said, blowing kisses at her reflection. "You and me and your man and one of my boyfriends gotta get lunch or something."
But during her session with Clayton, it was like a bedsheet had been pulled off Baby G's head. She again came to tears as she talked about her son and her street life. Clayton told her that with the hot tests, it was impossible to believe that she wasn't smoking crack, as Baby Girl insisted. And Baby G was really behind in her class hours.
Then Baby G told her she wouldn't be at class the next day because she was going to a boyfriend's court appearance.
That night, in a dream, Clayton saw Baby Girl with her hair down and her neck broken. The next morning, she tried to track down Baby Girl, but different people kept answering her cell phone. Finally, Clayton got her on the phone.
"I'm smoking major crack, baby," Baby Girl told her.
After that, Baby G stopped answering all calls and disappeared for days. She missed two drug tests. Clayton went by the apartment where she'd been staying, but didn't find her. When Baby G didn't show up for her next court appearance, a warrant went out for her arrest.
Baby G wasn't in court, but Ann was. She told the judge that she still wanted to get into Chrysalis. Marcucci told her to sit in jail a while longer while her request was considered.
Just off Colfax, Clayton spotted Baby G pimping a white girl in a bad outfit. Baby Girl's hair was frazzled, her glasses gone, and she couldn't stand up straight. She'd been in a fight and was talking gibberish.
"You think you're such a baller," Clayton told her. "Someone could come up to you right now and hit you over the head and take everything you've got."
Baby Girl refused to get in Clayton's car. A few minutes later, Denver police picked her up.
The next morning, Baby G was back in court. She didn't look like a hustler. She didn't look like a pimp. She looked like a crackhead. The judge set a $20,000 bond and said he'd deal with her when he met with the rest of the Chrysalis women in a few days. When Baby G said she didn't like that, Marcucci told her she could plead guilty to the parole violation and do the 345 days she owed him if she'd prefer.
Lopez went to evaluate Baby G in jail. "I hate it when people care," Baby G said, crying. "It's just easier when they don't. Jail was easy when no one came to visit me." She told Lopez that she wanted a life and wanted to raise her son and was willing to do anything. She'd said all this before.
"But the system holds me back," Baby G added.
"But the system's trying to help you," Lopez told her.
"Yeah, it puts me in classes, but it's just setting me up to mess up."
"I don't think so," Lopez replied.
"Fuckin' life sucks, period," she said. "It's going to suck. It's always going to suck, no matter how hard I try. I tried with you guys. I tried. Even before addiction, I was fuckin' up. You know, it don't help the program being right there off of Colfax."
Baby G talked about when the father of her oldest child got out of jail, how the three of them took pictures together. The plan was for them to marry, and he started out treating her nice, even though she was selling crack. But he stopped caring when she fell off so hard on her crack binge. "It's almost to the point that I should just leave my son alone because it's selfish of me," she said. "Just disappear, let him live his own little life."