Edward Adkins is a wanted man for breaking a law that no longer exists.

A Dallas officer caught Adkins riding a bicycle without a helmet in September 2014. But the cop never should've written the ticket. Months earlier, the City Council had scrapped the bicycle helmet ordinance for adults. Adkins is 46.

Adkins didn't know the law had changed until a reporter told him recently. At the time, he assumed he was indeed guilty. But he said he couldn't come up with the money for the $10 fine. Now he has a warrant out for his arrest, which he can pay off for $259.30.

"That's money I do not have," he said. "I'm barely keeping food in my icebox."

Adkins is poor. He lives off odd jobs, saying he brings in about $80 a week. And the municipal court system has no easy answers for him. The warrant has left him fearful that he will wind up behind bars again, years after the Navy veteran quit stealing and selling drugs and tried to move on with his life.

Uneven bicycle helmet ticket-writing that skewed higher in poorer areas became a feature of the council's 2014 debate over whether to completely repeal the bicycle helmet ordinance. A Dallas Morning News analysis of tickets showed then that the helmet law was enforced primarily downtown and in crime hot spots, which tend to be poorer areas.

The analysis also showed that police did not write tickets at popular biking spots, such as the Katy Trail and White Rock Lake.

Bobby Abtahi, a lawyer and former city community prosecutor, said he saw too many poor people like Adkins hurt by the city's municipal courts system.

"My biggest problem with the municipal courts is that on one hand, the city wants to eradicate poverty," Abtahi said, "but on the other hand they are preventing people from getting driver's licenses and preventing people from being able to go to work for sometimes bogus reasons like this one."

Community prosecutor Robert Abtahi looks at the code compliance progress along Alabama Avenue in Dallas on Tuesday, June 28, 2011. (Louis DeLuca / The Dallas Morning News)

Abtahi said city officials ought to take a holistic view of municipal courts instead of looking at revenue and whether fines are paid.

Back in 2014, a few council members saw the law as an unnecessary burden for bicyclists. They argued that the ordinance should be totally repealed.

Still, some council members believed the law was needed for safety. Then the council in June 2014 voted to make the law only apply to minors.

The change provided relief to future cyclists but gave no measure of amnesty for previous violators. More than 30 people have outstanding warrants because of tickets. But after June 2014, the law was meant to keep kids from cracking their heads on the pavement.

Helmet citations nearly ceased completely after June 2014. Only nine tickets were issued through March 2016, according to municipal records. Adults could still be ticketed if they allowed their children to ride without helmets.

Adkins wasn't with any kids. He was riding his bicycle a few blocks from his east Oak Cliff home around 2 a.m. on Sept. 24. He said he was on his way back home after a friend gave him $10 to hook up a DVD player. The officer wrote him a ticket for having alcohol and lacking a bicycle helmet.

Daniel Solis, the administrative judge for the city's municipal courts, said sometimes officers issue bad citations because they're not trained properly or simply screw up.

"The system is not set up to screen that kind of stuff," he said.

Solis said the courts can do little if someone doesn't show up to point out the errors. Adkins should've appeared in court himself to contest the citation or hired a lawyer.

"When one side doesn't advocate for his position, he loses by not doing anything," Solis said.

Adkins said he once went to the municipal court to ask a judge to lift his warrant temporarily so he could get a job driving cars around at an auto auction. But he didn't get the job, and the warrant went back into effect.

Adkins, a Hillcrest High School graduate, still wants a steady job. He has a background as an electrician and works on cars his cousin brings him. But he doesn't actively look for full-time employment. He rarely even uses the Internet.

He instead relies on word of mouth about his services. He keeps a tool set on the stained pink carpet near the door of his 69-year-old $38,000 wood-frame house that he inherited when his mother died. Adkins' father is still alive and lives within a few miles of him, but he's only seen him a few times in his life. A cousin helps Adkins pay the bills.

Adkins also has a girlfriend, but he can't afford to take her out anywhere.

"She pays for herself," he said. He added with a laugh, "she has to love me for me."

He rides the bus to get around town. He owns a 1986 Cadillac, but it doesn't run. It just sits in his back yard. And he gave away his bicycle because he didn't want to get another ticket.

"The bike was only worth $20," he said. "It didn't make sense to buy a $20 helmet."

Photos of Manuella Moore and her son Edward Adkins in Adkins' photo album. (Tristan Hallman / Staff)

And while he has stayed out of trouble, he also has to contend with his past convictions. He stole and sold drugs for a few years after he returned to Dallas from his four years of Naval service to live with his ailing mother.

He was also charged with assault on a public servant. Adkins said he punched an undercover officer who mistook Adkins for someone else and grabbed his arm without identifying himself.

"That was in '98," Adkins said. "And you never finish paying for it."

Solis, the judge, said Adkins may now have to pay something -- either to get a lawyer or to erase his warrants.

"The system is not perfect," Solis said.