Justifiable Insanity 2

by Jauwel

  Lisa was fairly certain they already knew how Razon felt about her and knowing she was living at his house temporarily would be the icing on the cake to bring her down and destroy Razon in the process. She had to do something; she couldn’t just sit idly in the house and wait for Razon to return. Even though she was unable to move the way she wanted to because of pain shooting through her body from time-to-time, it was no excuse not to get back to her department and get her life back on track.

  Hence, she made up her mind. It was time to get back to reality–the real world. It was time to leave Razon behind and be the no-nonsense captain she was supposed to be. She knew the conversation wouldn’t go well, but she would have to tell Razon that she needed to go back home and return to the life she had, without him.

  Chapter 11

  The days seemed to grow shorter and the nights restless since Razon had spoke to his father last. He had overworked his mind and body so much there was nothing else he could do but try to get some rest, but not for long. It was the first time in a long time that Razon had woke up without the brain-splitting headaches he usually experienced as soon as he blinked his eyes. He was well-rested and ready to get up to start his day. His first thought was to check on Lisa. Even though she had completely healed, it was nice to have her home with him. He planned to roll out of bed but something was stopping him; he was stuck and couldn’t move. Anyone could see that he was stronger than most, especially with his muscles bulging through his shirt, but with all his strength, he still couldn’t pull himself up.

  Razon looked around the room but it was completely dark; he was unable to see anything beyond his face. Somewhere in the room, he could hear breathing but couldn’t tell from who or what direction it was coming from. He wanted to call out but remained still. He was definitely at a disadvantage and didn't want to make his situation any worst. Suddenly, a bright light shined down in his face, swinging and hanging over his head. After focusing his eyes, he frantically looked around to see if he could tell where he was, who was in the room with him, and why he couldn't move. The only thing he could make out was that he was strapped down on what felt like a table, with straps around both wrists, and across his chest and legs. The restraints were so tightly pulled they felt as though they were cutting off his circulation. The only thing he could see clearly was a wooden bat on the other side of the room.

  "Who are you?" A voice said from behind the bright light. Razon tried desperately to recognize the voice but no one came to mind.

  "Who are you?" Razon retorted without answering the mysterious voice's question. A deep, echoing laugh filled the room; it was evil. Razon had to admit he could feel the fear rising in his chest, but he would not reveal those emotions. There was no way he would let anyone see him weak. "I asked you a question. Who are you and why am I tied down?" The voice laughed again, this time more creepy than the first.

  "Who are you to demand that I tell you anything about me? From the position you’re in, I think it’s better that you answer my question. Don't make me ask again or there will be consequences." Razon listened as he tried to put together clues that would help him figure out what was going on. As a child, Razon always loved to do things that challenged him, especially cracking puzzles and codes from the newspaper after his father finished reading. Every problem had an answer; every mystery could be solved. The man talking to Razon sounded exceptionally educated. Hence, Razon expected it may be a little more difficult than he anticipated.

  “What is it? What do you want to know?” Razon tried his best to relax and reason with the person in the room. The only thing he could hear was him breathing. It sounded like it was coming from all around him and there was no clear way to know where he would be coming from if he attacked him.

  “Do you miss your father? Do you miss Dennis Parker?” The voice called out. Razon felt anger rising up in his chest. He had been searching for his father. To all outward appearances, he had disappeared off the face of the earth. No one had seen nor heard from him.

  “Where is my father!?” Razon yelled in anger. “Answer me mutha fucka…where is my father!?”

  “Ooo,” the voice teased. “Temper, temper, watch your tone when you talk to me. Now I asked you a question. Do you miss Dennis Parker?”

  “Yes! Yes, I miss my father! Razon said frantically. “Where is he? Tell me, please, where is he?”

  The voice from the darkness laughed so loudly it seemed to shake the building. “That’s not what I asked you Razon. I asked if you missed Dennis Parker?” Razon looked confused. He answered his question; Dennis Parker was his father and yes he did miss him. “Do you even know who you are, or for that matter where you come from? Do you know who your father really is?”

  “Yes, I know exactly who I am. I want to know who you are and where my father is.” Razon continued to gaze around the room in hopes that something would shed some light on this strange interrogation. Without warning, a figure stepped into the light from the darkness. It became clear before even seeing his face that he had seen this figure before. “What do you want?” He continued to ask. Finally, Razon was face-to-face with a face that was very familiar; it was his own. He had seen this face before in other dreams, so he surmised this must be a dream also. “What in da fuck is going on? Who are you?”

  “Isn’t it clear who I am? The question is who are you?” The man retorted, watching the confusion spread across Razon’s face.

  “I’m Razon Parker…” Razon called out with confidence. “Stop fucking with my head.” Razon snapped in frustration. The man continued to chuckle, cutting Razon off from anything else he wanted to say.

  “Mmm, are you sure that’s who you are?”

  “Fuck this shit! I’m dreaming; I need to wake up. Lisa! Lisa…wake me up!” Razon screamed at the top of his lungs. He needed to get out of this nightmare and figure out why he had been seeing himself in all these dreams.

  “Ahh yes, Lisa Coleman. I guess I should spend a little time with her before I figure out what I want to do with her.” He grinned devilishly.

  “You put your hands on her or my father and I swear…” Razon tried to say, but was interrupted with laughter that eventually turned ominous and cold.

  “And what? What are you planning to do to me if I put my hands on them? Hurt me? Kill me? I have everything you love in my grasp, so don’t make me hurt them.” He warned, aware that he was leaving Razon confused and scared which was exactly how he wanted him to be.

  Razon tried as hard as he could, but it was an arduous task to contain his fear and anger. “Leave her alone you son of a bitch!” Razon shouted as the man before him continued to laugh at his torment while he watched the painful expressions on Razon’s face.

  “You have been lied to…find out who you are and you will find me. Find me and you find Dennis Parker…find Dennis Parker and you find…” The rest of the sentence was interrupted by a familiar voice.

  “Parker! Parker! Wake up!” Lisa screamed, shaking him frantically. Razon jumped up from fighting with his covers, realizing he was awake and free from the bondage in his dream. His breathing was labored and perspiration dripped from his head as she tried to calm him down and get him to tell her what was happening. Razon didn’t say a word; he simply stared at her, wanting to make sure she was real before he said anything. It was almost to the point where reality was questionable. He could feel breath on his neck, hear the whispers in his ear, even the body heat from another person, even when there was no one there. Was he dreaming? He knew there was no way he could tell her he was haunting himself in his dreams. She would send him to the department shrink in the blink of an eye. If his pride weren’t in the way, perhaps he would talk to someone to see if they could figure out if he was crazy or not. Maybe he did need to talk to someone. Possibly, there was more to his dreams than he thought. Maybe it was time for him to investigate himself.

  Chapter 12

  It had been a couple of days since Black tried to intimidate Tae in the dining hall. Tae kne
w, at this point, the best thing to do was not drop his guard. There would surely be another altercation soon. No matter how Tae felt about it, he refused to allow anyone to put fear in his heart; he was a true blue solider who refused to run from a fight. He realized he would have to be smart about it and create a plan for how he would handle Black when he stepped to him again.

  Black usually didn’t go anywhere by himself; he would have Tariq and Solomon with him. Even though Black had a reputation for being able to knock anyone out at the drop of a dime, he kept Solomon with him to fight his battles. Solomon was an extremely large man who could have been a body builder in a former life. Solomon always kept a straight face and his arms folded across his chest as if he was born to be a bodyguard. Tariq was a small-framed, light skinned kid who looked a little younger than Tae, but not by much. Most inmates said Tariq was too pretty to be locked down.

  Tae, on the other hand, was sure it was more than just being too pretty. Tae could tell by the way Tariq carried himself that he was a little on the sweet side and Black was the one that turned him out. Tae didn’t care how people lived their lives, it was their business. As long as they didn’t step to him with it, he was ok. He knew Tariq had a sneaky side to him, so he was the one he needed to watch his back from. But Black was the main problem because Tariq and Solomon didn’t make a move until Black told them to. Black took his time and carefully planned out the things he did. The only reason he got caught was because he got snitched on. Black had to be the ugliest person he had ever seen in his life. His face had so many cuts, bruises, and scars on it, no one could imagine him without them. Tae had to watch himself if he got into a match with Black. His mother always told him not to fight the ugly ones because they wouldn’t care if their faces got messed up. She was right. Black was as ugly as they came and already covered in battle scars, so he wouldn’t care if he got another one.

  For the last couple of days, Tae watched Black, Tariq, and Solomon keeping an eye on him or always in the same place he was in. He knew it was no coincidence. They wanted to intimidate him until they got the order to make a move. There would be nowhere Tae moved that he couldn’t see them close by.

  It only made him laugh, because if they thought they were affecting him, they weren’t. The only place Tae could escape being followed by them was when he was on duty in the laundromat, washing all the linen for Dawkins’s inmates.

  Although Tae didn’t talk to many people, he liked being in the laundry room with the one person he did talk to, who was an older hustler from Washington, D.C., they nicknamed Cotton. Cotton had a full head of white hair making him look like he was related to a Q-tip. Cotton would tell him how the streets used to be when he was on the block back in the day and how shady niggas could be, which was one thing that would never change. Cotton didn’t mind speaking how he felt and did so on a constant basis no matter who was listening. Most inmates would get mad when he told them about themselves, but they didn’t waste time beating on him, because there was no point to it. They all felt like he would die in Dawkins anyway, so why bother. When Tae got to the laundry room, he was shocked that Cotton wasn’t already there like he normally was. It made Tae wonder if Black had done something to him. Because of that, he began to do something he hadn’t done for anyone in there; he began to worry about Cotton. Suddenly, he heard a voice that couldn’t be mistaken for anyone else’s.

  “Maaaann, dats dat shit I been talkin’ ‘bout, bitch ass niggas.” Cotton said talking to another inmate as he came around the corner. Tae wouldn’t admit it, but over time, he had come to care about Cotton and looked forward to seeing him. Tae never knew his father, so Cotton was more like a father to him than anyone had ever been.

  “Talkin’ shit wit’ yo niggas making you late, old man.” Tae said as he folded the sheets with a straight face. “You making me do double work.”

  “Nigga, shit!” Cotton laughed, “It ain’t like you be doin’ any work when you come in here.” Cotton looked at him then picked up a pile of white sheets and shoved them in the large, washing machine. “Oh, I guess you tired ‘cause them niggas on yo back, huh.” Cotton continued to tease him about Black.

  “So you heard about that?” Tae asked, still not taking his eyes from the work he was doing.

  “Nigga, e’rybody heard about that. Dem niggas coming for you and if I’m the only one that got yo back, shiiittt, then yo ass in trouble.” Cotton laughed as he put the washing liquid in the machine, started it then went over to the table where Tae was working and started folding clothes alongside him. “You know they got the whole house waiting to see what’s gonna happen to you. Either you gon’ beat all they asses or you gon’ be Black’s bitch, just like Tariq. You know how he got that young nigga down, right? He was working out with him and got him all tired and sore and shit where his muscles couldn’t take no more. Then without any type of fuckin warnin’, he took dat niggas ass when he couldn’t fight back. That’s some fucked up shit, but I see it happen all the time up in here. Niggas so hard up on ass they taking the first young nigga dat walk through the door. Just watch yo ass is all I’m saying.”

  “Aww,” Tae teased Cotton. “You ain’t worried ‘bout me, is you? You know I’m bad news; you can’t be hangin’ round me for too long.” Before Tae could say another word, Cotton broke into a hearty laugh. “Don’t worry youngin’, them niggas know better than to come after me.”

  After a few hours of working, it was time for them to get something to eat and return to their cells. This routine was almost automatic in Tae’s mind. Officer McKall came to the door and told them it was time to leave. They both put the things they were working on away and followed Officer McKall.

  “Is that machine still going?” Officer McKall asked them when he heard the machine begin the spin cycle. They both nodded yes. “You can’t leave wet clothes in the machine. Someone will have to wait until that gets done and will probably miss lunch, depending on how long it takes to finish.” Cotton took a deep sarcastic sigh, but Tae knew he would be the one to stay behind. Cotton was older. Lately, it took him longer to get things done. Therefore, Tae understood he needed to eat and rest.

  “I’ll stay.” Tae volunteered. Immediately, Officer McKall spoke into his radio, communicating he needed another officer to come escort Cotton out of the laundry area to the dining hall. He informed them he would stay with Tae until the machine finished washing. Within a matter of seconds, an armed officer appeared to escort Cotton to the dining hall, leaving Tae to handle the washing machine.

  Sitting and waiting for the machine to complete the last load seemed to take forever, but Tae was patient. He looked over at Officer McKall, a thin, pale-faced, white man who seemed too young to be holding a gun, particularly in a facility full of hardened criminals. Tae could tell by the expression on his face that if something were to jump off he might be too scared to pull the trigger. Unexpectedly, Tae and Officer McKall heard an inmate confrontation going on around the corner. Officer McKall called for backup so the situation could be handled without him leaving. The reply on the radio was for him to see what was going on, to which he responded he was still watching Tae in the laundry room.

  “It’s right there; you might as well go,” Tae said to Officer McKall. “It ain’t like I can escape or nothing. Where am I gonna go? One way in; one way out.” Tae lifted his hands, indicating the dimension of the room didn’t give him any space to get away. McKall knew they were short-staffed on officers today and if someone didn’t intervene in the situation, it could lead to more problems that could affect him.

  “Don’t leave this room.” Officer McKall ordered, understanding that Tae would have to pass him because there was no other way out. All he needed to do was break up the confrontation and wait for another officer to arrive to help him handle it then he could get back to Tae. Not wanting to have three inmates or more who could potentially attack him, he didn’t want to risk taking Tae with him. Therefore, he walked down the hallway to see what was happening while Tae h
opped up on the folding table to wait for the machine to stop.

  After a few minutes, the machine finally stopped, so Tae put the linen in the dryer which he knew would continue to run if no one was in the laundry room. He was ready to leave now, but because he wasn’t allowed to leave on his own, he had to wait for Officer McKall to return and escort him to the dining hall. Tae turned around to head to the door of the laundry room when he saw something that bothered him; Tariq was standing there watching him.

  “Mmmm hum,” Tariq said walking toward Tae. He had perfected swerving his hips as well as utilizing the same gestures as a woman would. Yet, he was clearly a man. “It’s been so long since I had a nice cup of hot chocolate like yourself.” Tariq smiled, but Tae didn’t.

  “Oh yeah, well this is one cup of chocolate you won’t get to drink.” Tae attempted to walk past Tariq when he felt something sharp pierce his back. Grunting in pain, Tae stumbled back to the folding table.

  “See, all you have to do is give in. I promise I’ll be gentle.” Tariq said, rotating the jailhouse made knife in his hand. There was no way Tae would allow him to touch him, so his only option was to fight his way out of the room. Unfortunately, the pain in his back was more than he could bear. It was almost too much of an effort for him to stand up straight. Smiling, Tariq approached Tae, who had already started swinging to defend himself.