Suspicion . . .

The boys were very suspicious today. I am not sure what happened. They had many questions, all of which I have answered many times before.

One of the boys assumed I was a federal agent, because otherwise he couldn’t understand why I would take them out to dinner and give them a job. "She must be working for the feds."

"Are we hot?" they asked.
"Yes," I replied.
"Are the feds watching us?"
"I don’t know."
"Are you an informant?"
"What would I get out of being an informant for the police?"
"Us locked up."
"What is that going to do for me?"
"Get you the community organization you want."
"Why are we having this conversation again?"

No one answered.

"I told you all that I do work with the police. We have done gang truces together. The police know about the work that I do. And yes, they know who I am working with. I have been upfront and straightforward with you from the beginning. I do this work because I want to," I said.

One of the boys stood and said, "We know you are not the cops, T."