Trying desperately to tune them out, she began to smile as she thought of seeing Chance for the first time in nearly two months. As the bus drew closer to Rikers Island, the creepy sight of the compound came into view. The bridge that spanned the quarter mile of cold, murky water separating the island from Queens was the only way in or out. On the island, stone-faced, armed corrections officers patrolled the perimeter of fence topped with stainless-steel razor-spiked barbs.
When they finally arrived at the visitor processing center, the women had to board yet another bus to take them to their loved ones’”house”—C-74, C-76, HDM, the Beacon, Rose M. Singer, Anna Kross, and so on. The eeriest thing about Rikers Island was that even though thousands of inmates were housed in the facility, the silence was almost deafening.
Silver realized that the bus ride was not the worst part after all. The worst was the cruel and degrading way the corrections officers talked to and treated the women when they got there. They barked at them as if they were criminals themselves if they didn't follow their instructions to the letter. And Silver had had no idea that she would be subjected to a full strip search in order to see Chance, who was still in Rikers’ main infirmary.
The entire process was tiring, and it took over two hours before she was led into the visiting room to await Chance's arrival. They made the rules perfectly clear: no touching, no kissing, no passing any items. To violate any of these rules would be cause for immediate removal off the island and the visitors’ list. After twenty minutes or so sitting at table number twelve, Silver heard a loud voice.
“Entering seven!”
A buzzing sound, followed by the clanking of a steel gate, was heard throughout the room. Two COs, one in front and one in back of seven inmates, entered the room. Each inmate wore an orange jumpsuit and flip-flops, and was shackled hand and foot with long chained cuffs. They all took short, choppy steps as they bobbed toward their assigned table. Despite such medieval conditions, each prisoner's eyes searched the room, desperately anxious to sight their loved ones. Silver's heart began to race, but her smile slowly disappeared as each man passed by to walk over to his assigned seat. Worried, Silver was about to walk over to the sergeant's booth to inquire about Chancellor Haze when she heard another guard call out, “Entering one!”
Hope resurfaced as she watched the gate open. But she felt as if a searing piece of hot steel slashed through her heart when she saw Chance enter the room with the aid of a CO, who pushed him in a wheelchair.
Silver desperately fought the urge to cry in front of Chance. She had to be strong for his sake and for herself because of what she would be attempting to do. With every ounce of strength she had, she fought the urge to hug him, remembering the rules. So she just sat and smiled widely. Chance's chin rested on his chest, his neck unable to support his head by itself. He sagged limply in the wheelchair, looking as though he had lost fifty pounds. But nothing was worse than the oxygen tube that protruded from his throat. In spite of seeing him so helpless, Silver blocked it from her mind. “Hey, boo, how are you doing?”
He bobbed his head as he fought to raise it. He even managed a slight smile.
“I'm much better.”
Silver was amazed he could speak with the tube. After they talked for about a half-hour or so, he almost sounded like his old self, with the exception of a few slurs and wheezes. After she had gained enough courage, Silver told Chance what his lawyer had told her at court about his apartment and what he faced in the near future. Chance seemed unmoved by the news. After a long pause he finally spoke in a low, measured tone.
“Silver, I know this is gonna be hard, what I'm about to say, but I just want you to listen.” He paused to ensure he had her full attention, and looked around the room to make sure no one was listening. “I want you to get the money I gave Ms. Geneva for you and leave New York.” She watched Chance strain to find the words. “Take the money for your education and forget about spending it on me, ‘cause I'm already dead.”
“Are you finished?” Silver asked. Chance didn't answer. Edging closer, Silver glanced down at her watch. “Baby, we don't have that much time left, so I suggest you just listen very carefully. As much as you're not going to like this, I'm going to get you out of here, and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it.”
“Silver, please, don't be foolish. I won't be able to take it if something happens to you,” he muttered.
“So now you know how I feel!” Silver whispered. “All those years that we weren't together, I was nothing, you hear me? Nothing without you, baby. That's when I realized that I would surely go crazy without you. Chance, you are me and I am you—we are one. And I'm never going to let you go, ‘cause if I do I'll only be letting myself go. Do you understand that, Chance?” Chance turned away, but despite the rules she grabbed his hand and turned his face so she could look him dead in the eye. “So it's either win or lose, and believe me, I'm ready to die for my man!”
A tear fell from the corner of his eye, but he said nothing. Silver knew that she had to have the strength to carry both of them. “Chance, you have two choices. Either you help me and give me the information I need and I'll have a little chance of surviving, or I'll do it by myself and have no chance of surviving. But I do know one thing for sure—either I get you out of here or I'm gonna die trying!”
Chance stared at her for a moment, then shook his head in frustration. He knew that when Silver had her mind made up, that was it. He was powerless, with nowhere to run this time, no way to bluff his way out of it for her best interest. He relented.
Chance listened intently to Silver's plan, and they talked for another half an hour as he filled in the blanks by telling her who was who and what was what. He told her if she was to have the remotest possibility of pulling this thing off, she would need help, big help. She would need to recruit the right players—people she could trust, who could play their roles and be willing to put their lives on the line in the process. Chance explained that she would need four or five people. One, a front man, someone who was well connected in the drug game, someone who had big access to drugs—Diego, Silver thought. Two, a gorilla-type nigger who didn't give a fuck, who wasn't afraid to do stick-ups or lay niggas down—Chubbs. Three, a big bodyguard-type nigger—Birdie. Four, a person who knew how to break into places, pick locks and safes—Beasley. And five, a person who could introduce one man to another, someone known to have past connections with drug lords—Missy.
Their time was almost up, but the last thing she and Chance discussed was Hollis. Chance explained everything about Hollis to her, how he was the most dangerous and ruthless man alive.
In the five boroughs of New York, murder and mayhem were at an all-time high. Over two thousand murders took place that year alone, with stacks of bodies showing up all over Harlem and the South Bronx. True to his word, Hollis was causing such havoc and fear that other dealers completely shut down shop, retired, or moved their entire operation further north to small upstate towns or further south to ghettos like Baltimore, D.C, or Philly In any event, niggas weren't fucking with Hollis now that he had allied himself with King Papone. With Chance and the Italians out of the way, Harlem became Hollis’ own little candy store, and the only people who were getting rich were Hollis and funeral directors.
“Under no circumstances should you ever underestimate Hollis!” Chance stressed. Silver intently listened to everything.
Just then, the men began to file out from their visit, and she knew their time was almost up, that they had only about five more minutes before his escort came for Chance. Silver smiled. “The doctors at the hospital were calling you Superman because they never saw anyone take so many bullets and live. That makes you invincible.”
Chance chuckled. “Don't believe that. Every man, even Superman, has his weaknesses. Superman has Kryptonite, and I have Silver.”
They both laughed. “So what are Hollis’ weaknesses?” Silver asked as a joke. Chance thought about it for a moment, but before he cou
ld answer, the CO came to escort him back to his cell. As he pushed Chance away from the table, Silver spoke to him. “Sir … I know you have rules, but do you think I can give him a kiss good-bye?”
The CO looked at her. “Go ahead, but make it quick.”
Silver thanked him and while he briefly turned his back, she bent down and gave Chance a passionate kiss on the lips, followed by a gentle hug. Before they pulled away, Chance whispered in her ear, “Women and his mouth.”
Silver looked at Chance, not understanding what he meant.
“Women and his mouth are Hollis’ Kryptonite!”
Missy walked out of the rehab center after sixty days, looking totally fantastic. She had gained about twenty pounds in all the right places. When she stepped out of the building, she was greeted by Silver, parked out front eagerly awaiting her arrival. They hugged like they hadn't seen each other in years. “Girl, look you,” Silver squealed. “You look great!”
Missy did a 360, letting Silver see her new look.
“Damn, girl, what's up with that ass?” Silver joked.
“You know I always had one, but now I got ass on top of ass!”
They both laughed, then Silver loaded Missy's bags into the car and drove off. On the road, Silver told Missy everything that had gone down since she was away. Missy was brought to tears when she heard about Chance and what Hollis had done to him. And just as Silver thought, Missy was down to do whatever it took to get Chance out of the predicament he was in. Silver told her of her plan and how she needed to act quickly.
“Missy, I know you just got out of the clinic, and I'll understand if you ain't up to it yet. Just say the word.”
Missy looked at her like she was silly. “Bitch, when did you ever know me not to be ready for no drama? Besides, you don't know shit about the streets, and I can't allow nothing to happen to my girl. You know I would die for you, bitch!”
Silver looked back at her. “I would die for you too, hoe.” They couldn't help but hug as the cars in back of them honked their horns for them to move.
The first person on their list to visit was Diego. They went to see him at his job at the airport. Silver drove around slowly until Missy spotted Diego tagging some luggage.
Silver was amazed at how different he looked. He was now much taller, slender, and way more handsome.
“Damn! Milk must have done him some good,” Silver said.
Missy sent her an impish grin. “Watch this.” She exited the vehicle. Diego's back was toward her, but she began to speak with a British accent.
“Oh, boy, can you kindly get my bags from my car?”
Attending to other bags, he replied without looking over his shoulder. “Yes, ma'am, I'll be there in a second.”
Stomping her feet, Missy yelled, “Boy, look at me when I'm talking to you. Now get my bags right now!”
Diego stiffened and spun around. “Listen, lady, I told you I'll be with you in a second, and don't be calling me—” He recognized Missy, smiling from ear to ear, and he grinned as well. “Missy, why you got to be fucking around like that?”
Missy laughed. “Ah, I got your ass!”
Diego loved a good joke as much as the next person. “Okay, you got that one, but what you doing here?”
Missy smiled. “I brought somebody here to see you.”
Apparently expecting another joke, he smirked. “Who?”
On cue, Silver exited the car. “What's up, Diego? Long time no see.”
He searched her face, looked at her eyes, and froze. “Oh shit! Silver, is that you?” He hugged her and swept her off her feet. He gave her a big kiss on the cheek, and then pulled away to look at her. “Conyo … Marni! Look at you! What have you been up to?”
Before Silver could answer, Diego's supervisor appeared. “Diego, bags ain't gonna get tagged by themselves. Come on now, chop chop!”
Silver broke up the brief reunion. “Listen, Diego, I need to see you about something really important.” She handed him a card. “I'm staying at Missy's place, and I need you to be there Saturday at eight o'clock on the dot, okay?”
He looked at the address and shook his head as if it was a no-brainer. “I don't need no address. I know exactly where Missy lives.” He smiled at a blushing Missy.
“All right, but promise me you'll be there. It's real important, Diego.”
He agreed, hugged them both, and then went back to work as they climbed in the car and drove off.
In Harlem, they drove to a bar called Crystal's and decided to wait and order some virgin piña coladas, since Missy no longer drank alcohol. They asked several patrons at the bar if they had seen Chubbs, but everyone acted as if they didn't know him. After waiting nearly two hours with no sign of Chubbs, they decided to leave and try again the next day. Before they left, they decided to use the ladies’ room because those three drinks were working on their bladders. As they walked toward the bathroom, a large man appeared from out of nowhere and pushed them inside the men's room. The man pulled out two large guns and pointed them directly in their faces.
“You two lil’ bitches better have a good goddamn reason to come up in here looking for me, ‘cause if not …” Chubbs cocked both triggers. “Now who sent y'all lil’ bitches? It was that Hollis motherfucker, right?”
Eyes closed and scared to death, Silver stammered, “God-daddy, it's me, Silver.”
Chubbs used his gun to turn her cheek toward him. “Open up your fuckin’ eyes!”
Silver opened her eyes, and Chubbs realized she was indeed his goddaughter, whom he hadn't seen in over eight years.
“Maafucker, ain't this about a bitch!”
His frown turned into a big smile as he hugged her so tightly she could hardly breathe.
“Well, I'll be goddamned,” he said, proudly looking her up and down.
“Goddaddy, can you put those guns away?”
He glanced at the guns. “Yeah, yeah. Come on, let's get out this maafucka.”
Before they left the bathroom, he frowned and cocked a trigger again. “You still in college, right?”
“I just graduated.”
“You going to medical school, right?”
Silver nodded.
Chubbs uncocked the weapon. “You would have made ya momma proud, baby girl!” Exiting the bathroom, he yelled to everyone in the bar. “This here is my goddaughter, and she is a maafuckin’ doctor!”
A man standing by the bathroom door spoke to him. “So you not gonna be needing these, are you?”
He held up two large black plastic bags. Silver and Missy looked at each other, realizing just how close they had come to being killed.
Chubbs hadn't changed a bit; he looked exactly the same, Tootsie Pop and all. He and the girls sat down, and they explained everything that had gone down. He seemed to grow angrier each time Silver mentioned Hollis’ name. Without hesitation, he said that he was in, but told them they should just let him clap the nigger and that would be that. Silver told him that it was more complicated than that. Chubbs said that he and Hollis were due to square off sooner or later, and besides, Harlem wasn't big enough for them both. He agreed to meet at the address she gave him on Saturday. He walked them outside, where he hugged her and told her how much he missed her mother. Silver agreed with him and said goodbye.
The next day, they went over to their old neighborhood to see Birdie. On the way, Silver finally confided to Missy the incident that had occurred between her and Tommy. Missy was so furious that Silver hadn't told her about the attempted rape that it took Silver twenty minutes to calm her down.
They pulled up to the curb near her old building, and the first person they saw was Mitts the dope fiend. They were both surprised that he was still alive. They got out of the car, waved, and said, “Hey, Mitts,” and attempted to give him a few dollars, but he refused. Walking away, Silver turned around and saw that he was still staring at them. For some reason, he gave her the heebie-jeebies.
As they neared Birdie's building, they saw him trudging u
p the block with groceries in his arms. They sneaked up right behind him.
“Auntie Birdie?” Silver said.
Birdie froze in his tracks, then slowly turned, dropping the groceries. He clasped his hands over his mouth and started crying. Feeling his pain, Silver extended her arms toward him as he approached her like a sad puppy lost in a storm.
“I'm so, so sorry, Silver … how can you ever forgive me? How can you ever forgive me?”
He kept saying it over and over again as they embraced. Silver found out later that Birdie had put Tommy out the very next day and begun walking the streets looking for her, but after several weeks he had given up. She assured him that she understood and had forgiven him long ago. They spent the night catching up on old times, and then Silver finally told him why they needed his help. Even though he was afraid, he agreed to go along with everything.
The last person on their list was Beasley It wasn't too hard to find him—all they had to do was look for his white van. As they approached the van, they could barely see inside because of the thick cloud of reefer smoke. Cupping her hand against the window, Missy banged hard on it. Suddenly, the window rolled down and a cloud of smoke rushed out, causing them both to choke.
Fanning her face, Missy coughed. “Yo, Beasley, this is Missy. What's up, man?”
He looked at her as if he hadn't a care in the world. “Wen you a sa mi sistre?”
Still coughing, Missy pointed to Silver. “Beasley, you remember Silver, right?”
He lazily turned toward Silver. “Oh yah, I remember Silva, she use ta protect me in school.”
“Yeah, that's right. It's time for you to return the favor. Are you down, nigger?”
He looked at both of them. “Anyting for you two, who save me punk ass when I came to dis country. Just ya tell me when ya need me!”
Silver handed him the address while holding her breath. “Saturday at eight o'clock. Be there, Beasley.” Beasley nodded and rolled up his window.
One by one, they arrived at Missy's apartment. The first one to arrive was Diego, and the last one, of course, was Beasley. Missy had to go downstairs to get him out of his van as he puffed on a last-minute blunt. With everyone there, Silver and Missy explained the situation and the risk involved. She gave them all time to think about it. Chubbs was the first to speak. He had tears in his eyes. “Fuck that shit, man. Ain't nothing to this shit but to do it.” He pulled out both his guns and continued, “Let's take these bitches to war, man!”
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