by Pat Tucker
“What about me? Can I hold it after Bubba?” the inmate left off the list asked.
“Dawg! Yo bill is outstanding. I can’t keep extending credit and letting you make free calls like that. We ain’t runnin’ no damn charity over here! Get yo folks to pay the bill and ya get in the game. Until then, I can’t do nothin’ fo ya, man.”
For a second, I thought I might have to intervene. The shorter inmate looked like he might be ready to pounce, and I’d have no choice but to send him to solitary if he took a swing at R.J.
Something must’ve clicked in his head. Even though there was a scowl on his face and at least one fist clenched, he turned and walked away.
R.J. left the other inmates and approached me. “Whassup, ma?”
I motioned my head in the direction he just left. “What was that all about?”
“Oh, that ain’t nothin’ but a pay phone situation.”
My eyebrows knitted in confusion. “A pay phone?”
“Yeah, ma. Can’t everybody afford a celly up in here. If ya ain’t got two grand, ya gotta pay to make yo calls.”
“You can’t be serious.”
The fact that inmates paid two thousand dollars for a cell phone stunned me. How the hell did they get that kind of money? I started to think about all the cell phones that were smuggled in and that made the numbers real to me.
R.J. shook his head, like I was a challenge for him to understand.
“Look, ma. Everything got a price tag up in this bitch. The shit ya take for granted is valuable in here. Ya name it and I can sell it, for top dollar.”
I thought about other things I could sell to make money. The pills were good, but seeing R.J. rent out a cell phone made me wonder what else inmates might be willing to pay for.
“Ya got anything for me?”
“Oh, yeah. I got about two hundred this time.”
His eyes lit up. “Damn, ma. You just a lil’ pill factory these days, huh? That’s what’s up! That’s what’s up, fa sho!”
I stepped off to a corner where I thought a camera wouldn’t be able to spot me. There, I tugged at my weave, and removed the plastic bags. I stepped out of one shoe, removed the sole and took the little plastic bags out.
Once I had everything, I motioned for R.J. to come closer. He glanced around like he needed to check the coast and moved in.
“Damn, ya a beast with these pills, ma. That’s what’s up.”
The excitement in his voice made me feel even better about my new talent. It was so easy and I knew for sure he’d tell DaQuan all about the progress I had made. I didn’t smuggle pills daily, but at least three or four days a week, I brought in the pills my cousin Lance got from the old folks’ home. Lance, Lena’s brother, was so glad to get the extra money, he even offered to recruit some of his coworkers. But I felt like another supplier would complicate things, and I didn’t want that.
His constant supply made me a real game changer. And since Lena couldn’t hardly stand her own brother, I didn’t have to worry about her being in my business. Or at least that’s what I thought.
Lance’s hook-up really helped me out. Every time I did something to help the business, I thought about DaQuan and how pleased he would be. Thoughts of making him happy made me want to work harder.
It seemed nearly impossible because of where we were, but I rarely saw him. As the leader of the caged empire, he was busy and had to spread his time around.
“Where is he right now?”
R.J. looked up from the packets of pills. I could tell I had thrown his count off.
“Uh, who? DaQuan? He probably handling some bitniz; ya know how he gets down.”
I didn’t really know, but I nodded anyway. I swallowed a dry lump and told myself I’d get another turn in the closet soon enough. Unfortunately for me, I had no control over when that would be. Kicking it with a boss meant I just needed to be ready when he called and be patient when he didn’t.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
KENYATAYE
My body crumbled into one million tiny pieces as Jones peeked into the booth, slipped in, then took off. I wanted to follow her simple behind, but I couldn’t.
My heart felt like it was beating in my throat.
Was she going to meet with DaQuan?
Maybe she spent her time trying to track him down in hopes that he’d pull her into the damn closet. I needed her gone!
The way he treated her, and the way she tried to act like she was better than everybody else made me hate her more. I needed to do something to knock her ass back down.
Edwards and I exchanged knowing glances the moment she walked out. It burned me up that I couldn’t stop her. One of the other guards who was not on our team for the umpteenth time talked about an incident that had broken out overnight.
I wanted him to shut up, but I couldn’t say so. The radio buzzed to life and a fuzzy voice crackled through. I snatched it up quickly and spoke into it.
“Come again? C.O. Dunbar here.”
“Delivery to the east rear,” the voice said.
“Roger that. C.O.s Dunbar and Edwards are headed that way now.”
Bishop shot me a dirty look, but there was nothing I could do. We couldn’t all leave to go meet the delivery truck. She’d have to suck it up and continue to listen to C.O. Watson hear himself talk. Everyone had a job to do, and that was hers.
Edwards jumped up from the chair so fast, I thought it would tumble to the floor. As we rounded the corner away from the booth, she said, “Thank you! That damn Watson can talk!”
“Girl, I know. I was like, why we gotta be trapped listening to this madness?”
We made our way to the back of the main building and opened a side door. Three other C.O.s stood by, but one, C.O. Franklin, winked at me. I nudged Edwards who walked over to the other two C.O.s. Her job was to keep them distracted, so that I could handle the business.
I rushed to the driver’s side and the driver rolled his window down. He was a regular.
“Look between the sacks of flour, near the back behind the passenger side. You need to hurry ’cause they just called for the K-9 unit.”
A trustee met me near the back of the truck. Two others pulled the back door up.
“Let me get in there,” I said.
One of the trustees extended a hand and helped me hop up onto the truck. The air inside was hot and my skin felt instantly sticky. I pulled a small flashlight from my breast pocket and headed toward the section where the driver told me I’d find the flour.
My adrenaline was on speed as I made my way around in the dark. The little light helped, but not much. It didn’t take long for sweat to run down the sides of my head and down my back.
It was a tight fit between stacks of crates, but I spotted the ones that held flour. Pulling in my stomach, I eased between two narrow rows and slid my hands into a crate. I felt along the sides and touched the ridges of a freezer bag.
My heart nearly stopped.
I knew I was racing against a clock, because the K-9 unit would be there in less than fifteen minutes. I needed to work fast.
I put the flashlight between my lips and tilted my head so I could get a better look at the stacks of flour. I tugged and pulled out two large freezer bags. I slid my hand down the sides of the remaining sacks and felt the flap of another bag.
Quickly, I rushed back to the door and flung the plastic bags down to the trustee. He tossed them into the wheelbarrow, turned over a large can of soil and placed some other stuff on top of the bags until they were hidden.
The other trustee helped me as I hopped off the back of the truck. He quickly lowered the door and I made my way back to the driver.
“Got everything?” he asked.
“Three freezer bags?”
“Yup.” He nodded and motioned straight ahead. “Perfect timing; here comes the cavalry.”
I turned in time to see another officer as he led the K-9 officer in our direction. I released a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holdi
ng when they rushed to the passenger side of the truck and greeted the other C.O.s.
My relief was even greater when the dog led his handler toward the back.
“How much longer?” I asked, as I approached the C.O.s who still stood off to the side.
“What’d you go back there for?” one of them asked.
My heart took a nosedive.
“Dude! She had to pull a couple of trustees for the unload,” Franklin quickly answered.
“Oh. Okay.”
I was glad Franklin answered because I was at a loss. I didn’t expect to be questioned. I thought everyone was on the team. That was yet another slip on DaQuan’s part.
How he gonna have a delivery come in and not secure the perimeter? That could’ve been all of our asses!
Edwards glanced at me and slowly shook her head. I knew she must’ve read my mind.
The mental list of issues I needed to discuss with DaQuan seemed to grow every day. How hard was it to make sure team members greeted delivery trucks?
Once the truck was unloaded, Edwards and I made our way back into the building.
“Lawd ha’ mercy! What was that shit back there?”
“Hell if I know. If he ain’t part of the team, why was he even out there?” I asked.
“I think I remember him from weekend nights. He looks familiar, but I just knew he was down with us.”
“See, this the type of shit that makes me hot about DaQuan. I get that he’s got this successful business and all, but you can’t be slipping like that. We’re the ones on the fucking front line.”
“Yeah, and how much longer you gonna be able to hop on and off those trucks?”
When I turned to her, she motioned with her hand in front of her stomach.
“Well, we still got lots of time before I start showing. I’m not worried about that as much as I’m worried about the fact that he keeps making these simple mistakes. How you gonna have an outsider meet the truck? Makes no damn sense,” I said.
“Just talk to him about it.”
If only she knew. It seemed like these days just talking to DaQuan had become more and more of a challenge. And something told me it was the fault of nobody but that damn Jones. She probably whispered softly in his ear with all kinds of self-destructive information. I needed to handle that situation before we all suffered.
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHARISMA
“What’s going on?”
My question didn’t need a verbal answer because of what played out right before my eyes.
I had walked into sheer chaos.
Clothes, bedding, and other stuff were piled up all over the walkways. Inmates stood quietly outside their cubicles, as C.O.s turned over mattresses, and rummaged through their personal belongings.
“Damn, Franklin, you ain’t gotta break my shit like that!”
Chatter and curse words rose from different sections of the large room. My chest felt like a vise-grip squeezed my heart.
“This ain’t right!”
I eased next to the other C.O.s and mumbled again. “What the hell?”
“Somebody don’ snitched,” Edwards said.
Her tone told me she was irritated by what appeared to be an unannounced shakedown. But I didn’t like the way she looked at me. I thought we were supposed to be notified when shakedowns were gonna happen.
Luckily for me, I wasn’t loaded with a shipment today, but the scene still caused alarm. I needed to remind myself not to appear too nervous. I didn’t need anybody to point a finger at me. After all, I had just walked in on this.
When I looked up and saw Dunbar with one of the teams of three, conducting the shakedown, I nearly busted out with laughter.
Instantly, relief washed over me because I knew it was only for show if she was part of it.
As I watched the show, the irony was too much. Dunbar was personally responsible for 99% of the contraband smuggled into the prison, but she led the pack, walking around conducting a shakedown?
Dunbar was so full of shit.
I stood back and took it all in. And that trick knew how to put on a show too.
“Inmate, if I find anything, any type of contraband, that’s your ass, and you goin’ straight to the hole! Do I make myself clear?” she shouted at the inmate who stood outside the next cubicle.
KenyaTaye ransacked that space like a tornado doing damage on a small wood-frame house. She ripped pictures from the walls, tossed and shook clothes, flipped mattresses, and talked shit the whole time she searched.
“We ain’t gonna be putting up with none of this shit on my watch!”
The other C.O.s who were with her, didn’t say a word, and they barely moved. Her antics were enough for all of them.
I wanted to go and bust her out for fronting like she was really doing something, but I knew better. Doing that would put DaQuan in the middle of the drama and I didn’t want that.
Nearly three hours after the so-called shakedown, the assistant warden, Preston Richards, stood in front of a table that was loaded with cell phones, makeshift shanks, and a variety of tobacco products. I was personally relieved that I didn’t see any pills.
“This is a serious, serious, problem.”
His raspy voice made my brain immediately try to calculate whether he smoked three or four packs a day. As he spoke, Richards took deep breaths between each word. His labored breathing made me think he might keel over right in front of us. But he didn’t.
Dunbar had the audacity to stand next to a clean C.O. near the table as Richards spoke. Richards’s wide body nearly blocked them and the contraband until he started to pace.
“We need to get a handle on this situation. Heads are going to bounce all around this prison if we can’t control the flow of contraband. This is a prison, not a frat house! Do your jobs or you’ll lose your jobs!”
Richards pointed a chubby finger in our direction.
“This is a damn embarrassment to the uniform!” Spittle gathered at the corners of his mouth.
He let that linger in the air for a few minutes, while he caught his breath.
We all stood silent. It was so quiet all we heard was Richards’s loud breathing.
Suddenly, Richards nodded, and Dunbar and the other C.O. rushed to the table with two large trash bags. They scooped the items into the bags, tied them, then placed the bags on top of the table.
“Now. We’re going to get the inmates caught stashing this shit, but I’m going to get to the bottom of this situation.”
His pie-shaped face was red and blanketed with sweat.
The threat was real to me. No one else seemed pressed by what he had said, but I didn’t want to lose my job and I damn sure didn’t want to go to jail.
• • •
It took a while for things to calm down after the shakedown. Some people mumbled about how DaQuan hadn’t spread any warning. Apparently, he usually got information about shakedowns and warned inmates to stash their phones and other contraband. Hours later, inmates organized and rearranged their items back into their cubicles. And things slowly returned to normal.
As I strolled around a few areas, I watched as they fixed their beds, picture frames, and other personal things that survived the shakedown.
When I stumbled across DaQuan, he had just wrapped up a meeting with some of his workers. I stepped back a few feet to give him privacy.
But while I stepped off, someone else had the nerve to bump me as she passed and made her way toward the group of inmates. It was Dunbar. I watched as she got close to them. I was too far away to hear what she said. But the expression on DaQuan’s face said quite a bit.
The excitement I felt at the sight of her being mad at him made me smile on the inside.
Dunbar gestured, one hand on her hip, weight shifted to one side, and her neck twisted. I wanted to laugh. She was so extra, her foolish antics were pure entertainment.
DaQuan nodded a few times, but he didn’t make eye contact with her much. It felt good to see her g
et all worked up. After I watched from a distance for a while, I strolled in their direction just to fuck with her.
Her back was to me as I approached, so by the time I spoke, she couldn’t do anything but stare at me with a look of bewilderment on her face.
“DaQuan, you need something?”
I sweetened my voice as much as I could; I knew it would burn Dunbar up.
She whirled around so fast, I thought her head might roll right off her neck. She huffed.
“We are having a private conversation,” she snarled.
My eyes locked onto DaQuan’s. When he smiled at me, I pretended like Dunbar wasn’t even there.
“Aey, you find out anything else about what we talked about?” he asked.
I knew for sure she didn’t miss the way his tone dipped and softened when he spoke to me and all but ignored her.
“No, not yet, but I’m still working on it,” I said.
Dunbar whipped her head back to DaQuan.
“What you got her doing for you?” Dunbar asked. Her voice was whiny and completely out of place.
DaQuan ignored her again.
“Lemme know when you got that; okay, ma.”
Dunbar turned to me and proceeded to stare me down. I wanted her to know that she didn’t scare me one bit. I stared right back and all but dared her to make a move.
“I sure will,” I said. Honey all but dripped from each word.
“Jones!” Scott interrupted. “Girl, I’ve been searching all over for you.” She stopped and looked between Dunbar and me.
“Hey, inmate, what’s up?” Scott finally said.
That was when I pulled my gaze away from Dunbar. In that moment, I knew the beef between us wasn’t about to be squashed anytime soon.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
KENYATAYE
Sleep was the last thing on my mind when it should’ve been the first. It was 2:30 in the morning and all I could do was think about the way DaQuan allowed that trick Jones to dis me. I couldn’t sleep for thinking about ways I could get her ass caught up. I wanted her gone and I meant, laid up on her deathbed somewhere. Her being fired wasn’t good enough for me.