by Wahida Clark
“Yeah?” I said.
“Is she back? Have y’all seen her?”
“Back from where?”
“The ambulance came and got her last night. She fell out while she was cleaning the SHU.”
“Damn, I hope she’s okay. Her and the baby.”
“I know, right? Well, Lieutenant Longwood rode in the ambulance with her.”
“I think he likes her,” Eshe said.
“Think? I know he does. You should see the way he looks at her,” Sun-Solé said. “But anyway, the warden is the cool one. He’s the one that personally let me out of the hole and apologized for the mishap. He said he doesn’t know how his staff overlooked the separation requirement for me and Judge Doom. He said the fight wouldn’t go on my record. Only because he’s cute I let it go.” The three of us laughed. Our girl talk was interrupted by the unit officer coming on the floor.
“Sun-Solé, get two other inmates and go down to visitation.”
“But it’s not visitation hours.”
“No shit. The warden wants you to clean it up.”
“Come with me, Queens.”
“Nah, I don’t do the cleanup thing,” Eshe said, turning up her nose.
“Me either. Especially not after no strangers, like I’m somebody’s maid.”
“Y’all are trippin’! Do I look like Molly myself? This is just a way for us to get off the unit and get a few extra things. Let’s be smart,” Sun-Solé said. She had a point, I guess.
“All right. Fuck it. But only if it’s only us three.”
“Cool.”
The three of us went down to the visitation room. It was empty and quiet. The officer locked us in and told us we had to be done in two hours. “So what are we supposed to be doing?” I asked, putting my hands on my hips.
“Shit, I don’t know. Where do they keep the cleaning supplies?” Eshe inquired.
“Maybe in here,” Sun-Solé suggested, pointing to a nondescript door at the other side of the visiting room. She cracked it open and quickly closed it. “Shit, that’s the door leading to the mailroom. I can’t believe they left this unlocked,” she whispered.
“Can you see the front door from there, ’cause I’m tempted to walk right up outta here,” I said. We covered our mouths, laughing.
“Oh shit! I hear somebody in there!” Sun-Solé said and she closed it partially.
“Who was it?”
“I don’t know; sounds like Lieutenant Longwood. And he’s talking in a hushed tone,” Sun-Solé said.
“Girl, we need to mind our business. I’m not trying to have no problems with these people. Let’s just sweep and mop these floors and get the hell out of here.”
“I kind of want to know who’s up in there too. Looks kind of shady to me,” Eshe added. I rolled my eyes. These chicks were crazy.
“I’ma go up in there,” Sun-Solé said.
“Bitch, is you crazy?” I asked. She had me talking all the way ghetto by now. “You not about to go up in there. Hell, no!”
“I can crawl,” Sun-Solé said.
“Well, if you go, I’m coming too. I wanna see,” Eshe added.
“I know y’all are joking right now.”
“Look, me and Eshe will go. Milla, you be the lookout!”
“Oh my God! I’m not playing with—” Before I could finish my sentence, they were gone, crawling around the mailroom. What the fuck! My heart was racing. They had more balls than me. I looked at the clock. Three minutes passed, and they still weren’t back yet. Then the unimaginable happened. The guard came back to check on us.
“Everything all right in here?” she said as she turned on the lights.
“Yes, everything is fine.”
“Where are those other two?”
“Ummm, the warden came and got them a few minutes ago.”
“What? I hate this job. How the hell are we supposed to keep up with y’all when they never tell us what’s going on? Okay, whatever. I’m headed up to his office to see what work detail he has them doing. I’ll be back to check on you again.” She stepped out.
I ran over to the mailroom door and cracked it. “Get y’all asses back in here!” I yelled in a stern whisper. They came crawling back into the visiting room. By the stone look on their faces, I knew something had gone down.
“Listen, the guard came to check on us. I told her you all went with the warden. What the hell is going to happen when she sees the warden, and he doesn’t remember taking you out?”
“Calm down, girl. Let me tell you what’s happening up in there.”
“What?”
“Prego, that girl Jackie Gaines—her and Lieutenant Longwood are in there fucking. They got music on and everything. We saw it!”
“Get the fuck outta here!”
“I swear. There is a little space in the corner, and there is an inmate mattress on the floor.”
“You lying!” I said, handing each of them a mop.
“Nah, I saw it too,” Eshe affirmed.
“So let me get this right. This muthafucka got one of the mattresses from the housing unit down on the floor in the mailroom fucking an inmate?”
Suddenly the door opened from the mailroom. His pants weren’t even fixed. “What the hell y’all doing up in here?”
“What does it look like? Cleaning!” Sun-Solé said.
“There you go with that smart-ass mouth. Who authorized you all to be down here at this hour?”
“The warden!”
Just then, the officer was back.
“I thought you two went with the warden? Where were you?”
“We were waiting in the back of visitation, but nobody ever came back for us. We’ve been in here,” Eshe said.
“Sorry, I misspoke earlier. I thought they went out, but they were waiting to be taken to the next area to clean. I guess he changed his mind. Or maybe it was the lieutenant,” she said, looking at Longwood. He didn’t say a word. He couldn’t. “Look, I’m new. I’m sorry. I may have misspoken.” The officer waved Eshe off in frustration before she continued.
“Well, hurry up in here so I can get you ladies back up to your unit before count time.” Then the officer left again. I looked at Eshe, who cleaned up our situation with ease. She was definitely a jewel. Quick on her feet. The three of us now had information that could be used to our advantage, if necessary. I planned to sit on it and wait until it would be beneficial to us. This is what happens when you put a bunch of clever women in a cage together.
Chapter 20
Sunny-SolÉ
* * *
That time in the hole was needed. I had a moment to think about my situation. What were the odds of this bitch being at the same prison as me? Whatever the reason, I was grateful that I got to put hands on the old witch. She stole from me. Not just my money, but my life. She’s the reason I am separated from my king and my prince. Unacceptable.
My method of trying to handle it may have been a little . . . well, unorthodox, but there was nothing I wouldn’t do for my family. Family comes first and always will.
I was learning the ropes of this prison shit quick. Over the last few months, I bonded with Eshe and Milla heavy. We’d only known each other for a few months, but it felt like years. My bunkie, this chick named Munchie, was a real man in a woman’s body. She was a straight stud. She was also the neatest person I’d ever met. I loved that about her. She was a cleaning machine, and I didn’t have to lift a finger in our room. But what I didn’t like was the fact that she woke up at five in the morning to start. It was not the quietest endeavor.
“Ay, yo, bunkie, can I put your shoes under the bed for now?”
“Munchie, it’s just after five. I don’t give a damn what you do. I’m asleep.”
“Listen, today is a special day,” she said, ignoring me.
“Why?”
“You know why! Don’t even act like that.”
“Oh shit. It’s today?”
“You know it.”
Today was my bunkie’s wedding. And
I’m not talking about a wedding through the BOP. I’m talking about a real prison wedding. Organized, catered, and conducted by inmates. Her chick lived down the hall. They’ve been together for the last four years from what I was told. Munchie’s got thirty-five years, and her soon-to-be prison wife has twenty more to go. Veronica’s her name. I thought this was cool and whatever worked for them, worked for me. Veronica came in the room and Munchie kissed her passionately.
Munchie pulled out what used to be a white sheet, and when she unfolded it, I could see it was now a wedding dress for Veronica.
“You gotta be kidding me! Y’all really ’bout to do this shit?” I said.
“Yup! Be on the yard at five today for the ceremony. Right after count time.”
“Who’s officiating? Who’s the preacher?”
“We’re still working on that.” This shit was too funny. But I had an idea.
“I know who’ll do it for you. She’s working on her seminary degree right now. She’d be honored.”
“Who?”
“Milla!”
“Milla? Girl, bye!” Veronica burst out laughing.
“Come on, let’s go talk to Eshe. She can convince Milla of anything.” We woke Eshe up, and I told her my idea about Milla officiating the wedding today on the yard. She fell out laughing.
“Bitch, you know good and well Milla ain’t about to do that shit. She’s into church, and her homophobic ass is not about to do no fake-ass ceremony at a jailhouse lesbian wedding.”
“We’ll see about that.”
We walked down to Milla’s room to wake her up. It was early as hell, but she needed to prepare her speech for today’s ceremony. The thought of that was funny.
“What do you want, Sun-Solé?” she asked in a groggy tone.
“Why it gotta be Sun-Solé? You see Eshe standing here too!”
“Eshe would not be in here this early unless you dragged her,” Milla said accusingly.
“Girl, just get up, we need to talk to you about something.” Milla sat up on her bunk and screw faced both of us.
“What the hell y’all bitches want?”
“You got a job to do today. An important one.”
“What are y’all talking about? It’s the weekend. I’m chillin’. I’m not going on no cleanup, covert spy missions with neither one of y’all today,” she said, pointing her finger at us. I knew she was talking about me, but I didn’t care. I always had to know what was going on around here, and they were always going to be my witnesses.
“Veronica and my bunkie are getting married today, and they need you to be the minister at their wedding.” The room got silent. Then Milla burst into laughter.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“You! Y’all play too much, yo. For real, can I go back to sleep now?”
“We’re dead serious. Who else would be better, Ms. Degree in Apolostethics.”
“It’s apologetics. Look it up, the defending of the Christian faith,” Milla said assertively.
“Whatever. You know I ain’t into that shit,” Eshe said. “All I know is these bitches wanna get married, and they need somebody to run the ceremony. Who other than you?”
“Hell nah! Not me. You know I don’t support that lifestyle. I mean . . . I don’t have no quarrels with how muh’fuckas choose to live their lives, but I don’t have to be no part of it.”
“Oh, so that’s how you feel?”
“Yuup!”
“Well, what if I told you I get me some tongue action every now and then? Would you have a problem with that?” Milla twisted up her face and looked at me with disgust, and then started praying. Eshe was cracking up.
“Lord, please touch my ratchet-ass friends, for they know not what they do. In the name of Jesus I ask—”
“Milla, please. Girl, be quiet. Just do the damn ceremony,” Eshe said.
“No. Actually . . . Let me rephrase that. Hell, no!”
“So, you’re saying your God don’t know what he’s doing? He makes mistakes? You know my bunkie has been a man in a woman’s body all her life. How is that her fault? She was born that way. You people preach one thing and do another. If we’re a reflection of God, then we are in every way, even the shit you don’t like. For real, that’s wack for you to act like that. You a homophobe, fam’. I didn’t think you would be that way. Of all people, Milla!” Eshe said. “Come on, Sun-Solé. Let’s go find a real woman of God to handle this.” Eshe winked at me as we started to walk out of the room.
Milla jumped down off her bunk. “Really, so y’all resorting to reverse psychology now? I’ll do the stupid ceremony, but if I’m going to hell, y’all bitches coming with me.”
“You couldn’t get rid of me if you wanted. I’ll be right there with some Versace shades on.”
Everybody was cooking for this wedding. The menu was off the chain. We had fried chicken wings. We stole some flour from the kitchen and used crushed crackers to supplement what we didn’t have. They deep-fried it in the microwave in a plant pot. We had lo mein that could compete with any New York City Chinese restaurant. But ours was made from Ramen noodles and soy sauce and were sautéed in plastic bags laid out in a cardboard box. The mackerel patties melted in your mouth, and we had fried Thai noodles made from pressed rice and mayonnaise. And, of course, our famous potato logs—crushed chips, moistened and turned into a dough, then rolled out and stuffed with every meat known to man and enough cheese to clog every artery in the United States.
And then there was the wedding cake. We hired Paris. She wanted two books of stamps to be our baker for the evening. She used cream cheese and pudding for frosting, and cookies for batter. And to say the cake looked like a Carvel Special was still not doing it justice.
Everybody gathered on the yard. Even the people my bunkie didn’t deal with. But it was a big event and something to keep us occupied. What really got me were the outfits. A couple of contraband scissors, needle, thread, yarn, and prison clothes could do a whole lot if you had the skill. We, the guests, had put some rice in socks and everybody was going to throw it at the end of the ceremony.
There was an entire wedding party with matching dresses and all. And the bride and groom weren’t playing any games. They looked the full part. I couldn’t believe that Milla actually showed up.
“Y’all know y’all owe me for this shit here,” Milla warned.
“Man, this is crazy. You see all these people?” I said as I looked around at all the people on the yard. The lookout was on deck to let us know if the guards were coming. So far, so good. We had to move quick.
“All right, come on. Step up,” Milla said to the wedding party.
“Don’t forget to mention the rings. We got rings too!” the groom reminded Milla. I wanted to burst out laughing, but I held it in.
“Anyway, good evening, everybody. Today, we celebrate the love between Veronica and Munchie. At first, I wasn’t going to do this ceremony. My beliefs don’t align with everything going on here today. But then when I thought about it, I asked myself, what is God? And is God not love?” There were a whole bunch of “amens” and “I know that’s rights” and “tell it, girl.” I was proud of Milla. She continued. “So I say that to say, even in the hells of incarceration, we still find a way to enjoy the gift of love. The gift of life. I hope that you all continue to be happy and celebrate love because—”
“Hold up!” Shanice said, interrupting the ceremony. Shanice is the bunkie of the bride, Veronica. “I just came back from my visit. I’ve been gone all day, and this is what I come back to? Really?”
“What’s the problem, Shanice?” I asked, sensing that shit was about to get all bad.
“The problem, Sun-Solé, if you must know, is fake-ass Veronica. Just last night she was all up in my bed, laid up with me, saying how she’s tired of Munchie, and she wants to be with me. Now she’s really ’bout to sit here and marry this bitch?”
“Calm down, Shanice.” I wanted to tell her, “This shit ain’t even a real wed
ding. What the hell are you so mad for?” But I minced my words. Everybody was looking. You could hear a spider spin a web.
“You not about to fuck up my wedding, Shanice,” Munchie said, stepping away from the makeshift altar. Shanice had her sock, but there wasn’t any rice in it. It was a lock, and she swung it on Munchie as soon as she got too close to her. Blood flew from Munchie’s nose. The peaceful wedding turned into bloody mayhem.
Chapter 21
Eshe
* * *
“Ain’t no smile on my face . . . I don’t see nothing funny . . . if you really wanna feel me . . . take me to the money!” I kept trying to find the right line for my next bar, but I didn’t quite like the way it sounded. I spent a lot of time writing music. I loved rap, and when I was younger, I used to perform at local venues. I got so caught up in my businesses, that I put my passion for music to the side. But now that I had years of downtime, I started to pick my pen up again. It was cool because Milla and Sun-Solé would drop a verse or two occasionally, and we’d have our own private ciphers.
We had so much in common. I was really starting to love those chicks, and I felt closer to them than some of my friends at home. When you do time with someone, you get to know them in a way that you’ll never get to know other people unless you live with them. You get to see how they maneuver on a daily basis in different types of circumstances.
My thoughts were interrupted by mail call. We stood in front of the officer’s station like cattle. Actually, we were more like sheep, and when our names got called, it was a sign that we would not be slaughtered today. Our names getting called at mail call was the ultimate sign that somebody, somewhere, had thought enough about us to pick up a pen and paper, or purchase a card to let us know that we were not forgotten. It was the most anticipatory time of the day. Like a battery charge helping you get through the next twenty-four hours.
“Eshe Haller!” the guard screamed out.
“Here!” I said as I shouldered my way through the crowd to get my mail.
“Hold up, you got about two more.” He went through the stack and handed the mail to me.