“What’s happenin’, my ni—my man. Excuse me.”
Rise gathers himself. “No, it’s cool. I’m glad to see you tryna get that out of your system.”
“I read something that gave me a new perspective. Ya see where I’m at? That got me feelin’ some things.”
“Yeah, alright. Well, go ahead and check in with Ms. Angelwing, she lookin’ at you kinda crazy. Then come upstairs. My man Kunta go’n show you how to work your drop. I want you to hurry up. ’Cause after you finish, I’ma show you a couple of things in the law library.”
They dap off and Rise moves out. Lil Chris walks over to the security station and checks in. The woman ain’t even trippin’ that he’s two hours late. That, in itself, got him trippin’.
As Lil Chris climbs up the last couple of steps, he spots this dark-skinned brother. Muscular frame. He’s extremely neat. His appearance speaks of a man with a sharp eye for detail. Designer sideburns. Snow white teeth. Precisely-shaped mustache and beard. Starched and ironed blue jean shirt and pants. Spit-shined work boots. The immaculate white handkerchief hangin’ out of his back pocket is even pressed. The dude could be anything but an orderly.
“What’s happenin’, my man,” he greets Lil Chris with a broad-faced smile. “They call me Kunta.”
“Alright, now,” the C’ster says, shaking his hand. “My name Lil Chris.”
“You the biggest lil man I ever seen. How you get that name?”
The question is one that Lil Chris usually shrugs off with silence. But there is something about this cat that’s … well, kind o’ cool.
“People been callin’ me that since I was young. Well, real young I mean,” Lil Chris says. “So what’s up with this work?”
“That’s what I’m finna show you. Your area is go’n be easy. You just gotta stay on top of it.” Kunta steps out of the doorway to let Lil Chris onto the second floor. He already has a mop bucket with pine oil and bleach water made up.
Lil Chris steps into the main hallway and grabs the mop
Kunta continues. “The free folks make their rounds twice a day. You just make sure that when the brass come down it ain’t nothing that they can just see wrong and point their finger at. You feel me?”
Lil Chris nods.
Kunta goes on. “The best thing about it is that Sergeant Angel-wing. Brah, she ain’t ’bout no trouble. And she ain’t go’n sweat you. Oh, she might call you from time to time to get her something. Or to handle lil knick-knack stuff. Especially if she dig you. But if that’s the case, you’ll know it. See where I’m at? Other than that, ain’t nobody go’n say nothin’ about what time you get here. Long as you beat the brass to work. Then again, if you late I’ma hit ya drop for you. Just like I expect you to do for me. We keep the ranking officers out the sergeant business, that’ll keep her out our business.
“Now I’ma give you this lick on how to hit your drop every morning when you come in. Other than what I’m about to show you, unless they call you specifically for something, like clearing a room or waxing the floors—and nine times out of ten you’ll know about that ahead of time—besides that, your job will be basically to stay out the way. You get it? You got it? Good.”
With that, Kunta walks off. Lil Chris follows.
Half the day is gone. Security just dismissed Rise’s morning class. For the moment, Rise is sits up and thinking about Shonda. Wishes he could be out there with her. She’s never known exactly how much she’s come to mean to him. Rise is too strong-willed to bind her to him. Expressing the true sum of what he feels for her. Damn. If only …
“To touch without feeling is the ultimate sin.”
Rise doesn’t even have to look up to know who this is. He responds, “Far worse than blasphemy.” Pushing out from under his desk, he stands to embrace Gary Law.
“How’s the brother?”
“I’m straight.”
“How we looking in P.C.P.A?”
“This new group is developing well,” Rise explains. “I’ve had to flush one or two undesirables out, but other than that we’re pretty much familiar with most of these dudes. Those we don’t know directly are cool. They been around. We got a pretty good feel for what they’re about.”
“Well, I’ve heard that Da One is starting to stir the pot. Have you considered the implications of their operating this close to us? With this destructive mindset they propagate?” Gary is trying to hide it, but he’s visibly concerned.
“I know this much: we’re too preoccupied with what we’re doin’ to be trippin’ off them.”
Rise’s intuition tells him that now is too early to expose his hand. Not even to G. But he definitely has a game plan.
G senses Rise’s reluctance. He presses, “I see we got a new orderly in the building. That’s ya homeboy, huh?”
Rise lifts an eyebrow. Chooses his words carefully. G kinda nice wit’ his. Cant forget that. “Yeah. He came on today.” Say no more than necessary.
“Has he been fingered for development?”
“Why would you ask?”
“Well, because I know you went out of your way to get him released from the blocks.”
“I do that for a lot of people, not just prospects and homeboys,” Rise shoots back.
“So you’re saying that there is nothing significant about your giving the brother a hand up? Remember the constitution.”
“I’m aware of the constitution. Well aware.”
“Well?”
“Well, the people I talked to didn’t move. Apparently, the lil brother had more than one well to draw from.”
“How could that be? He almost beat that other brother to death. How did he get out of that—wasn’t he in the fieldline? How did he get another drop?”
Rise frowns. “Are you questioning his integrity?”
“I’m merely asking questions. Relevant questions.”
“Institutional appellate process.”
G is sits there looking dumbfounded. Then he takes a deep breath and says, “Talk to me, Rise.”
“What, G?!” Rise is exasperated. “Whadaya wanna know?” G looks back at him, expressionless.
“Okay, man, look …” Rise stops. Inhales deeply. He considers himself. Then he straightens up and says, “I never told anyone what I’m about to tell you.”
He stops to peep G’s reaction. Stonegrill. Gary Law’s face is a mask. Rise continues, “More years back then I care to remember—I’m sure you can relate to that—about two years after I started this joust—”
“—You mean when you were in juvenile, right?”
“Look, don’t interrupt me, G. Just sit there and vibe wit’ me for a minute, man. Yeah, when I was in juvenile, I had this cell partner. His name was … well, we called him Playa C. Now, at first he and I didn’t get along. I don’t know. I guess he felt like I was a square. A buster, or something. I thought this dude was conniving, selfish. Self-centered. Anyways, I believe we jousted for four years together. I was three years older than him. But, by far, he was the most influential of the two of us. Admittedly.”
Rise chuckles. His eyes sparkle with the light of the memory. “Man, he kept me in foolishness. Either he done took somebody stuff, or owed somebody he refused to pay. Or he done punched someone’s cousin down. It seemed it was always he and I against everybody. We went from being down by default, to down by law.
“But we didn’t care, though. I mean, obviously he didn’t and I know I didn’t. They knew if they was at him, I would be involved. Man, I remember this one time we were comin’ back from workshop. Like 14, 15 kids came at us. I believe their beef was that Playa C had punched they boy in the face for some reason or another. Anyway, the people, they were corrupt in that place. Two or three security personnel knew what was about to go down, but they had been given Skoal and chewing tobacco to turn a blind eye. I stepped in front of Playa C. Lookin’ more confident than I felt, I told ’em wasn’t go’n be no crowd play. But if they boy wanted to go toe-to-toe wit’ my lil brother, we could d
o that. It was a cat name DaddyHouse. Him and Playa C went into a mix for a minute. C dropped him.
“His boys ain’t like that. Especially with me jumpin’ around and talkin’ trash. Playa C ended up droppin’ that boy three times. I mean scufflin’ him up. So, one time, the last time, he puts him dead on his ass, right. Playa C was finna start stompin’ him. I stepped in and pulled him back. But I was too late. They rushed us, the majority came at me. I was in a circle of ’em. Just swingin’ wild and shit. I had lost sight of Playa C. When they crowded me, I just grabbed the closest one to me and pulled him down wit’ me. The more they pounded me, the more I worked him over.
“Then, all of a sudden, there’s this loud clap. I kinda thought it was a gun. Everyone else must’ve thought so, too, ’cause they let up a bit on me. Come to find out, it was Playa C wavin’ a shovel spade. Swinging it with wild abandon. I saw him crack two of ’em over the head. He was aimin’ wit’ the edge, too. I don’t know how they survived with their domes intact.
“Still though, the thing about it that I’ll never forget is how it ended. A couple of our boys had come to our aid in the melee. Once we had run ’em off, we turned back …” Rise’s voice catches. He goes on like it didn’t. “We’re out of breath. Heavin’ and gaspin’. Most of all, laughin’ … at least, we were until we came up on Playa C. Dude was sittin’ on the curve with the shovel layin’ to his side. With his head down. He was slouched over cryin’ like a baby. I was like, ‘Man, what’s wrong wit’ you?’ He looks up, with tears rollin’ down his face. Sniffin’ and shit. He says something that we can hardly make out. So, I sit down and I ask him again if he’s alright. He looks at me, I swear, and says, ‘Them fools jumped on my brother.’”
Tears run down Rise’s face too. “It took me a minute … to realize that he was talkin’ about me. That really shook me up. I told him, ‘Come on, get up, kid. I’m a’ight. I’m straight.’ And we got up, and … he and I were really brothers.” Rise stops and just stares at nothing. G doesn’t say a word. Rise closes the classroom door. Then he turns around and looks at G.
“The crooked officer,” Rise presses. “And he was crooked. The one that got killed in the riot. He was not my kill. I won’t go into details, but the buck just kicked off. Somebody refused to accept that. No one could have called it, but before long there was rioting everywhere. Only a few people know what actually happened.” Rise looks Gary Law square in the eyes. “I was falsely accused and convicted, and I never said a mumblin’ word.
“You know, for a long time I’ve only focused on what I felt was the injustice done to me. That Victim Awareness course I took last year changed all of that. Man, those survivors … you gotta be made of stone not to feel them. No matter how wrong that officer was, I’m aware that there is a mother or child that survives him. The ripples from the pebble in the pond.
“Anyway, Playa C got out about a year after I came down here. His grandpa, his legal guardian, passed shortly after that. My moms adopted him to keep him out of the system. Now we was brothers for real. He gave Momma ’n ’em hell, though. In and out of trouble. Fist fights and shootouts. The same pattern. He’d start shit, trouble, and no one would know about it until it came back around full circle. My family worked with him, though. More than put up with him. Playa C ended up getting his G.E.D. and even takin’ a few months of junior college. He ended up meeting this chick. Before long he was doin’ the family thing. He was working his way through the madness.”
Rise exhales deeply. Closes his eyes. Continues. “He jousted me. Did the time with me. Made sure I had commissary and clothes. Literally became a resource. I mean really. For about four years or so. I don’t know where he was getting’ the money. He was finding a way to touch me. I didn’t struggle too much with creature comforts. For my part, I was encouraging him. Tryna keep him progressive. I really wanted him on top of his thing.”
Rise takes a breath. “He and his girl had that graveyard love,” he nods. “They swore love for life. That only death would do them part. And, I don’t know about her, but he always kept his word.
“His step-pops was like mine. He was violent. This was one of the main things Playa C and I had in common. We hated our stepdads. We both swore to never be like them. Shocked doesn’t describe how shook I was to find out he was fighting his babymomma. Man, it was awful. All messed up. They argued all the time. I would talk to him on the phone and he would be in this place … this place in his head. He’d go on and on about how much he loved her. We never talked about the fighting. Maybe I should have … I knew even then that it was killin’ him. To be like his stepdad. To do like him. It got to the point where I would call and he wouldn’t come to the phone. I never really thought much of it. I figured he was just trippin’.” Tears stream down Rise’s face. “I would pray for him. For the whole family, but for him in particular. His real name was Chris.”
“I know, man,” G says.
Rise gets up and walks to the window. He stands there, the same blank look on his face. “I dunno. I don’t care. You know, it’s been almost four years and he’s still on my visiting list.” Rise gives a dry laugh. He wipes his face.
“I don’t know what to think about it,” Rise says with resolution. “I wasn’t allowed to go to the funeral. I used to sleep hard after that. A dreamless sleep. I thought I had pushed the whole thing to the back of my mind. And, maybe I had.”
“Until you met this youngster that started working up here today.”
“From the time I first saw him. His demeanor. His attitude. So familiar. This young cat’s swag—I mean, even his name. And from the first time I saw him at the A.U. orientation, I began having these, I don’t know, visions. I’m not sure … but whatever the case, they seem real. What I’m saying is meeting him triggered a process. Ended up making me confront my issues with the whole situation. My brother’s suicide. I’m resolving those issues—in my own way.”
“And, so,” Gary Law cuts in, “You see this little guy as your second chance at, what, a lil brother? Is that why you are so drawn to the idea of developing this boy? And don’t gimme that ‘He hasn’t been fingered for development’ crap. I know you, Rise.”
“Yeah, I’m thinking of pulling him in. Okay … so, isn’t screening and expansion my area?”
“My sources tell me he’s already been recruited by Da One.”
Rise refocuses in an instant. He comes completely out of his melancholic haze. He looks at Gary Law intensely. Eye to eye. “So what?”
Later that afternoon, just before evening chow call. The door stands open to the law library. Lil Chris has been finished with his drop for some time now. He took to Kunta’s program in no time. The work is really mindless. He walks around just to see whatever it is to see. Learn the terrain. One of the main concepts he picked up from a little handbook he read while he was in the blocks. The Art of War by Sun Tzu.
This is about the third time he’s passed by the law library today. This time, as he looks through the window, the desk clerk waves for him to come in.
Lil Chris sticks his head through the door.
“What? You need me to do something?”
“No, come in, please. My name is Gary Law.”
“Oh, my name Lil Chris.”
“Why do you call yourself Lil Chris?”
Question kind of caught the C’ster wrong. He doesn’t answer.
“How long have you been in Angola?” G asks.
“A little under three years.”
“Do you have a lawyer?”
“Oh, I ain’t here on law library callout. I work up here.”
G smiles. “I’m aware of that. I work as an inmate counsel.”
“Well, why you as—”
“Because, it’s my job to make sure your law work is straight,” G provides. Not entirely truthful.
Silence. They stare at each other. Eye to eye. You never know what people’s intentions are in this place. Careful, now. They both know this.
“Yeah,” Lil C
hris says. “I got a lawyer.”
“Paid?”
“Ah, court-appointed.”
“Where does your appeal stand?”
Lil Chris thinks. “I just got a letter saying the Second Circuit denied me. So, I guess that means I got 14 days to file for rehearing. Thirty to go to the next court.” Lil Chris feels pretty good. Those law books he started sending for after he had that talk with Rise really helped.
“What you go’n do if he don’t file your writ on time?”
Damn. Another good question, Lil Chris thinks.
“Well, while you thinking about that, could you tell me what collateral review is?”
“No.”
“Well, what are you going to do after you leave your state supreme court? You do know that after that you won’t have the appointed lawyer anymore, right?”
Silence.
“Have a seat, youngster. Let me explain something to you. In case they haven’t told you, your job is actually to first make sure that things look neat when the rank come through, and, secondly, to be invisible. You follow me?”
Lil Chris nods.
“Now, there is something about your situation that you need to understand. The prison system is a racket. When we go out and commit criminal acts and get caught, we fall into a well-planned net. A trap. From that point forward, it’s we, the offenders, who are usually victimized.
“They already know that the large percentage of us don’t know the law—let alone our rights. This problem is compounded by the fact that most of us can’t afford competent legal assistance. We’re given a court-appointed lawyer who not only doesn’t have adequate resources, but also can’t properly defend us even if they did have the resources. They’re being called to defend too many clients at one time.
“This is the backing we have when we step into the courtroom to face an assistant district attorney who’s more concerned with winning than with uncovering the truth. The whole concept of justice in this sense is a sham. The objective isn’t to punish us for what we’ve done—most of us rightfully so, mind you.” G raises his eyebrows. “The name of the game is to convict us of the harshest law violation they can match to our actions, and to then give us the largest possible number of years for it. They aren’t concerned with us coming back home someday. The prison owners get paid two ways off us: first, they get a set amount of money per head per day; then, they also get free labor to produce products that they turn around and sell for profit.
This Life Page 14