Life After Death Read Online Free PDF Page A

smashed the food and sipped some wine. After she finished patching him up, and taking off his bloody shirt, she put a sweater on him. She then lovingly gave him a cup of water before placing a Cohiba Behike cigar in his mouth. (I studied cigars, too!) He chuckled as he stared at her with deep affection.
         "You hate my cigars, Beth. Are you sure?"
         She gently took the cigar from him, and took a deep inhale. She choked instantly. We all laughed, and she looked at him.
         "I love everything about you, even the things that I hate."
         She then looked at me.
         "How did you know how to make the plates like that?"
         I smiled and looked at Redman, who was smashing the food on his plate. He began to laugh and talk with a mouth full of food.
         "He studied food while he was forced to eat all that bullshit in prison for the past fifteen years. I know he's a beast at cooking! I can’t wait to experience his cooking."
         He glared at John Patterson.
         John Patterson took a few inhales off his cigar and blew the smoke upwards. He then looked me in my eyes.
         "I watched the news when you was released. I read the article in awe as it showed how the DNA found on the scene was not yours, as well as the guy (whose DNA was found at the scene) confessed to the crime, and told details that wasn't never released to the press.  I prayed on it, and I asked for God’s forgiveness and got it . So after I say I'm sorry, you and your side kick can kiss my ass!"
         I stared at him as I finished my plate and drained the cup of wine. Then I smirked.
         "God forgives, I don't. My parents died knowing that their son was innocent and waiting to die. My younger brother spent his inheritance on lawyers that eventually proved my innocence. So, fuck your apology. I just need you to be honest and answer a few of my questions. I deserve that much."
         He then looked at his wife, who had tears streaming out of her eyes, and who nodded her head “yes.” He took a couple of hales, and then nodded to me. I accepted the blunt that Redman passed to me, and took a few deep hales. I smiled when I saw Mrs. Patterson staring at the blunt.
         "Are you trying to hit this, Mrs. Patterson?"
         Redman laughed.
         "Yeah right, what she know 'bout that purp?"
         She looked at him and chuckled as she got up and accepted the blunt. She inhaled it deeply and didn't choke. With smoke coming out of her mouth and nose, she then faced Redman.
         "I was a teenager when I first visited Amsterdam in the 70's as a Dead Head. I smoked more of the best weed in the world before you were even thought about."
     
     
         We both burst into laughter. John Patterson smirked at his wife as she continued to take deep hales until she ate the end bit of the roach. That really caused us to laugh uncontrollably. I then looked at John Patterson in his eyes.
          "Did I ever have a chance in that jury room after Bethany Richardson testified?"
         He shook his head no.
         "The dreads definitely didn’t help you out. Honestly, you looked guilty in the face and you were guilty before she testified because why would the police arrest you out of everybody in Baltimore City? After she testified, all of your witnesses and your testimony fell on deaf ears.
    We were wrong. Sorry. Nobody is perfect."
         Redman blew out a gust of air. I looked at him and saw nothing but anger in his eyes. I looked back at John Patterson.
         "OK, nobody is perfect. But, let's say that I accidentally shoot somebody. Even though it's an accident, am I wrong?"
         He nodded yes.
         "So, who deserves to die, man? Is it the dumb ass victim that kept saying it was me? Should it be the judge? Should it be the prosecutor, or should it be the jury? What do you think? I mean, let's say I was your son, and your son was sentenced to death unjustly. Who would