A Good Dude by Keith Thomas Walker

she was about to embark on. But right about then, common sense kicked in. If Rilla had money hidden, he would have told her. In any event, she could simply ask him when he called in the morning. Candace was sure he’d call bright and early. According to the caller ID, she already had twelve missed calls from an UNKNOWN source. The last call was at 9:59 p.m.
    She went to bed and slept by herself for the first time in more than a year. When she woke up, her eyes were so crusted with dried tears, it was hard to get them open. In a way, she hoped they would stay closed forever.
    Rilla called at 6:30 a.m. Candace had been up for two hours already. When she picked up the phone, an automated recording began to play.
    “Hello, you have a collect call from,” another recording started, this one was short; Rilla barely had time to state his name, “an inmate in the Overbrook Meadows County Jail. To accept this call, press one. If you do not wish to accept—”
    Candace pressed the button. A moment later her boyfriend was on the line.
    “Hello?” The sound quality was poor and there was a slight echo, but hearing Rilla’s voice made Candace giddy. She couldn’t even sit down.
    “Rilla? It’s me.”
    “Hey, baby. Damn, it feels good to hear your voice. Where happened to you last night?”
    “I was at Trisha’s. I didn’t know you can’t call my cell phone.”
    “Yeah. Baby, you sound tired. You okay?”
    “Not really,” she said. “I feel like you’ve been gone for a month already.”
    “I ain’t gonna be gone that long,” he promised. “This some bullshit. They ain’t gonna be able to hold me.”
    “I talked to Delia last night,” Candace said. “She said your bail is a hundred thousand dollars .”
    “I know,” Rilla said. “Ain’t that some mess? I’ma get that reduced for sure.”
    “Why is it so much?”
    “Cause I’m a celebrity or something,” Rilla said. “They’re talking about how much money I got and how I’m a flight risk. They treating me like I still got videos on TV. I don’t know why they’re saying that.”
    “Who?”
    “That bitch-ass judge. She did me bad, baby.”
    “What are you going to do?”
    “Ain’t nothing I can do, till I get me a lawyer. I can’t pay that bond, and only a lawyer can get it reduced. I talked to CC. He’s supposed to be getting some money together for me. You talked to him yet?”
    “No, but I talked to Delia. They think I have some money over here.”
    “It’s some money in that cookie jar,” Rilla confirmed. “There’s only three hundred dollars in there. And the rent’s due in two weeks. I don’t have enough for that.”
    “I thought it was more than that.”
    “Rilla, where is all the money? I know you have money somewhere.”
    “Baby, I had to do something with it. Everything I got is wrapped up in something right now. But you straight. I got some shit in that duffle bag by the bed.”
    “I’m not selling drugs.”
    “I know. Give it to CC. See if he’ll give you a couple hundred for it so you can pay the rent. That bag’s worth at least a thousand.”
    “Rilla, I don’t want to touch that stuff.”
    “All right. I’ll tell CC to go by and get it.”
    Candace cringed at the thought of CC stopping by to check on her again. “There’s no more money in the house?” she asked.
    “Naw, baby. Me and CC just went in on this thang . All my money’s tied up in that. CC got my shit, though. Once he gets rid of that, he should have about twelve thousand for me.”
    Candace was glad for that, but she couldn’t help asking, “What if he doesn’t give me any? The rent’s due in two weeks.”
    “Baby, you’ll be all right. I’ll talk to him today.”
    “I called my parents,” Candace said.
    There was a long pause. When Rilla spoke again, he sounded spooked. “You did?”
    “Yeah.”
    “You still talking about going home?”
    “I can’t go,” Candace said. “Not now, anyway.”
    “What happened?”
    “My dad—he