by Pinky Dior
“Ma, I have to do what I have to do.” Mercedes nodded her head, her New York accent in full effect. “This is what Daddy wanted me to do for him. He wouldn’t even ask you because he knew you would say no, so he passed it down to me,” she informed her mother.
However, her mother wasn’t trying to hear it. “I’m begging you, Mercedes! I never asked you for nothing!” her mother barked. “Please, Mercedes, go to college, do something with your life. You’re not made out for this.”
Mercedes sat back in her chair, laughing hysterically at her mother’s comment. “I’m not made out for this shit?” Mercedes screwed up her face. She leaned in forward and pointed her finger to her chest. “You must don’t know your daughter too well! I was born ready; I’m a Carter. I don’t know about you…well, I do know that you’re not made out for this shit!” Mercedes said smartly as she sat back and reclined her back against the chair.
“You don’t know too much of where I came from, and what I did while I was back in Cuba!” Maria’s eyes filled with tears. “How could you say that?”
“Because it’s true, Ma.” Mercedes raised her voice. “So why are you trying to knock the hustle?” Mercedes asked, with an enraged look on her face.
“Mercedes, you will end up like Chino, your father, and your uncle. You see none of them made it out the game alive? They all are dead!” Tears filled her eyes as she continued talking. “Mercedes, listen to your mother. It’s not easy, honey, and I will not bury my child. I refuse.” Her lips trembled as she bit down on them, trying to stop them from shaking.
“I got to do it for me.” Mercedes got up from her chair. “I have to do it for Daddy,” Mercedes said bluntly. She stood up and walked away.
“Mercedes! Mercedes!” Maria screamed. She watched her daughter walk away from the visit without saying she loved her. Maria broke down into tears.
Mercedes didn’t want to talk any further with her mother. She couldn’t sit there and allow her mother to change her mind. She had no choice. Mercedes felt as if she was already in the game, and it was either stay loyal or die.
Chapter Two
Pieces to the puzzle
Mercedes pressed her hands against the bars as she overlooked the jail. She walked down the steps leading down to the cafeteria. Females stared at her from a distance. All the girls grilled Mercedes and some gossiped about what had gone down between Mercedes and her ex-cellmate Sharonda. Bitches were scared to even look at Mercedes the wrong way. Even the older girls, who thought they ran the jail, had the utmost respect for Mercedes. She had girls giving her their canteen without asking, and giving her whatever else she needed. Mercedes was indeed feeling like a boss bitch. She held her head up high as she walked into the cafeteria and stood in the line behind the other females waiting for their food. Mercedes held her tray close to her stomach as they placed the food on tray. She looked at the food in disgust and her nose flared up. Mercedes exited the line and looked around for a seat.
Mercedes was about to sit down at a table, but one of the girls slammed her hand down on the chair.
“This seat is already taken, mama!” the big girl barked, giving Mercedes a nasty look.
Mercedes rolled her eyes as she turned and walked away. She looked over and noticed Sharonda sitting down at the table with a big bandage that took up half of her face where Mercedes had buck 50’ed her. A devilish smirk appeared across Mercedes’s face as she walked over and found an empty table, sat down, and placed her tray in front of her. Mercedes screwed up her face and stared at the tray of food, which had thick, nasty-looking, mashed potatoes smothered in dark gravy, green peas, and a piece of chicken. The food looked like it had just come from out of the trash. It looked like they had just heated it up in the microwave, calling it a meal. Mercedes stuck her fork in the mashed potatoes and twirled it around, thinking twice about if she wanted to eat it or not. Just looking at the food turned her stomach, making it feel like it was doing flips. She pushed the food away from her as it made her lose her appetite.
“Are you going to eat that?”
Mercedes looked up from her tray and noticed her cellmate walking over to her. Mercedes cut her eyes at her and cracked a smile. “Are you ever going to just leave me be?” Mercedes questioned.
Alana chuckled. “Are you going to eat your food?” She ignored her question as she pulled out the chair and took a seat.
“Nah, I’m good.” Mercedes pursed her lips together. The sight of the food made her stomach hurt.
“Can I have it?” she asked.
“Go ahead,” Mercedes said sarcastically as she pushed the plate towards her. The tray made a screeching noise as it slid across the table. Mercedes looked away as she rested her chin in the palm of her hand.
Alana grabbed the tray of food, bringing it closer to her. Mercedes turned towards her cellmate and stared at her as she instantly started digging into her food, demolishing it as if she hadn’t eaten in days.
“So what are you in here for?” Alana asked between bites.
Mercedes laughed and said, “What does it matter?”
“Hey, I’m not trying to get all in your business or try to come at you or anything like that. I mean, you’re a very beautiful girl and I know you’re still a baby. I mean, look at you.”
“I’m in here for murder,” Mercedes said bluntly, yet proudly.
“Murder?” Alana exclaimed.
Mercedes looked at her and gave her that look. Could you be any louder! “Never misjudge a pretty face.”
Alana chuckled. She would have never thought that with Mercedes’s pretty face she would ever commit a murder, but there she was, and as they say, you’re innocent until proven guilty.
“Why are you in here?” Mercedes put her guard down. She wasn’t going to give Alana a hard time; she seemed pretty cool.
“I’m in here because I was smuggling drugs back and forth into the U.S. and got caught up.” She sighed. “I been in here for eighteen years.” She sighed again. “What’s your name?” she asked, switching up the subject.
“Mercedes Carter.” She looked at Alana and placed her hand on her chin.
“You’ve got to be kidding me?” Alana laughed as she looked away and brought her attention back to Mercedes. “Well, as I said before, my name is Alana.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” Mercedes smirked.
“I got a question for you,” Alana said, pointing her fork at Mercedes as she finished gulping down the rest of her mashed potatoes. “Is your mother’s first name Maria?”
“Yes, that’s my mother’s name…Maria Carter,” Mercedes informed her as she saw Alana’s face light up and her eyes start to get watery.
“How is she?” Alana bit the bottom of her lip and her fingers were shaking as if she was nervous.
“She’s pretty good. I just had a visit with her the other day.” Mercedes wondered how she knew her mother. “Wait a minute…how do you know my mother?”
“Your mother, Maria Carter, is my sister,” Alana stated. “We are related by blood.” Alana knew she didn’t believe her.
Mercedes looked at her and shook her head no. She told herself that Alana and her mother looked nothing alike. They shared the same Cuban similarities, but there was no way that Mercedes believed her.
“I know you might not believe it, but Maria is my blood sister,” Alana assured her.
“That can’t be! My mother would have been mentioned you,” Mercedes said dubiously, though she actually didn’t know too much about her mother’s past.
“Yeah, I know, I haven’t seen your mother since I was sixteen years old.” Alana sighed as the memories popped up in her head. “It’s been a long time.” Alana shook her head in disbelief.
“So that makes you my aunt, right?” Mercedes asked, laughing. She didn’t believe a word this lady was saying. “Why would I believe you? I just met you and I know nothing about you, just your name. I mean, how do I know you’re not lying?” Mercedes asked with her heavy New York accent.
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br /> “Sweetie, let me tell me tell you something.” Alana sat up straight, leaning forward, as she placed her fork on the tray. “Why would I have to lie to you about being your mother’s sister? What am I getting out of it?” Alana asked with a serious tone as she put all laughing matters aside.
Mercedes looked at her and wanted to believe her, but there was just no way. “Maybe you need some money. I don’t know.” Mercedes shrugged her shoulders and Alana busted out laughing, shaking her head from side to side. “What’s so funny?” Mercedes felt offended and she ice grilled Alana.
“I have plenty of money…well, I had plenty of money. My father is one the richest men in Cuba. He’s a big-time supplier. But for eighteen years, I haven’t communicated with my father, ever since I got locked up.” Alana sighed. “He never answers my phone calls, doesn’t answer my letters, and doesn’t even send me any money.”
Mercedes felt bad for her as she stared into her eyes and saw the pain. “So where does my mother come into play?” Mercedes blurted out.
“All right, it’s a long story, so make sure you listen,” Alana informed her, pointing towards her ears.
“I got nothing but time,” Mercedes said sarcastically as she folded her arms across her breasts. “We both ain’t going nowhere anytime soon.” Mercedes smirked and Alana agreed.
“Back in 1989, I remember your father, Don Carter, coming to Cuba with his crew, and this was his first time meeting my father and his workers. Your father had an old connect in Cuba before, but he decided to make money with my father, Vicente, instead. Your mother, Maria, was always the one who dealt with the product, the drugs, and she played a major role in my father’s drug business, because she’s his favorite daughter.” Alana smiled, reminiscing on how she wished she were in Maria’s shoes, although there were certain things Maria went through that she didn’t want any part in. “So Maria saw Carter and they fell for each other instantly, but Maria knew she couldn’t be with him, because one of our father’s rules was to never date his customers. But Maria broke that rule. When Carter went back to New York, your mother was devastated. She came to me one night before she went to stay with my mother’s sister, crying to me, saying she didn’t know what to do, and I didn’t know what she was talking about. She told me that she was pregnant and I’m guessing it’s you she gave birth to, but, um, if my father would have found out at the time, he would have killed your father.”
“Wait a second…so my mother ended up pregnant with me and ran away to New York to start a new life with my father?”
“Yes, exactly! So your father moved y’all out here and started a new life, basically. While over in Cuba, my father searched Cuba for her. He thought she had died. But one day…” Alana shook her head side to side. “I remember like it was yesterday. My father put a gun to my head, asking where Maria ran away to, and I told him I didn’t know. My own blood father threatened to kill me if he ever found that I was lying, but I couldn’t tell on my sister. Although we weren’t entirely close, I loved Maria to death. She asked me to promise her that I would never tell on her or where she went. And if I told on her, you wouldn’t be who you are today. Vicente would have made Maria have an abortion and he would have killed Carter.”
“That’s some crazy shit!” Mercedes couldn’t believe it. She thanked God for what her mother had done. “So who told him about my mother’s whereabouts?” Mercedes was curious.
“Sixteen years later, Vicente was still searching for Maria. I guess word out on the street was that Maria was staying with my Aunt Maleese and he paid her a visit.”
“Does Vicente know about me?”
“No, he doesn’t know about you at all—well, the last time I was around, you were never mentioned. I didn’t say anything to Vicente about you because I didn’t want my sister or you to die. You were just a baby. But there’s still a lot that you need to know, Mercedes. There’s more information that may have a lot more value to you than me, and maybe you can find closure,” Alana implied.
Mercedes nodded her head for her to continue.
“So I’m assuming that when he paid Maleese the visit, she told him everything and told him that Maria ran away with Carter. When I was twenty, I still kept in touch with some people over there, and I heard he sent people to New York to find Maria and Carter to bring Maria back to Cuba. But they failed on that mission. So Vicente somehow found out Maria had moved to Manhattan. He sent one of his young workers by the name of Emilio out to the city to spy on Don and become one of his workers so he wouldn’t suspect any one. That was one of Carter’s mistakes that messed him up big time. So they carefully planned it out and he told Emilio to bring Don back to him, so that he could kill him himself. Vicente is a very powerful man, but he wanted to wait for the right time to kill him and capture Maria and bring her back home. The streets talk; I know everything in here.”
“So Emilio did this?” Mercedes knew he had played a part in her father’s murder, but she had no idea that he was sent by another man to do his dirty work for him. She never even knew about her grandfather Vicente.
“He had no choice. Whatever Vicente says, anyone will do.”
“So my own grandfather killed my father?” Mercedes stared Alana in the eyes as she nodded her head up and down.
“Yes. He’s the one who wanted to kill your father and Emilio helped him execute his plan.”
Mercedes covered her mouth with her hand. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Mercedes never knew about her grandfather back in Cuba. He seemed like a coldhearted man, but he hadn’t met Mercedes Carter yet.
Chapter Three
Drug smuggler
Mercedes sat on her bed as Alana talked more about her father, Vicente, and what she had contributed to the business. Mercedes sat there with her elbows resting in her lap and her chin resting on the palms of her hands, as she listened to Alana tell her whole life story. It made Mercedes more curious to explore the lifestyle that she lived, but she knew for a fact that there were consequences. Look where her Aunt Alana was at. Mercedes definitely didn’t want to end up like her. Mercedes didn’t want to work for anybody smuggling drugs into the U.S. She told herself that it was too dangerous. She wanted to be her own boss and control the entire product and the money coming in. Alana stood in front of her as she got into details about everything, but she was leaving one thing out that Mercedes wanted to know.
“So how did you get caught?” Mercedes asked eagerly.
“Oh, so now you asking the questions, huh?” They both chuckled. “I remember it like it was yesterday. It was just so hectic…” Alana sat down next to Mercedes on her cot as she began recalling the events of the day she had gotten locked up.
***
Alana rode first class to New York City to smuggle drugs into the U.S. for her father. He had just made a big deal with Jesus, one of his most frequent buyers. His father and Jesus had dealt with each other for years, but Vicente felt uncomfortable with sending fifty bricks into the U.S. Vicente normally didn’t care as long as he got his money, but he felt different about this transaction. Still, he couldn’t turn down a hundred thousand dollars. Alana sat on the plane reminiscing about when her father had talked about the transaction.
“I don’t know about this.” Vicente scratched his chin.
“Why not, Daddy?” Alana had asked. “That’s a hundred thousand dollars in your pocket.”
“It’s not the money, Alana,” Vicente stated. “I have plenty of money to last a fucking lifetime,” he assured her with a harsh tone. “It’s just a feeling I got deep down inside. It’s telling me something is going to fuck up.”
“Everything will be good, Daddy.” Alana reassured him that everything was going to be fine and that nothing bad was going to happen.
“Fuck it.” Vicente shrugged his shoulders as he placed a cigar in his mouth and lit it. “I know where the motherfucker lives if anything goes down.”
“Love you, Daddy, see you later.” Alana kissed him on the cheek before
exiting the room. Alana didn’t know what was about to go down, nor did Vicente have a clue.
Alana sat on the plane next to one of her father’s workers as they landed in New York City. The conversation she held with her father kept popping up in her mind. Her father’s instincts would sometimes be right, so she wondered if something was going to happen. Alana nervously bit down on the bottom of her hand as a queasy feeling overcame her. After she exited the plane, Alana’s ride pulled up in a black limo and they headed over to the hotel in Manhattan. She checked in to her hotel room, got something to eat, and then decided to take a nap. She had several hours until the drug transaction went down.
Several hours flew by quickly. Alana was dressed in all black, looking as if she was attending a funeral service. She wore a white collared shirt underneath her black blazer. She wore a black skirt that showed off her nice petite body, revealing her pretty, flawless legs. With three-inch stilettos and a black hat similar to what the old ladies wore to church on Sundays, she worked it to complete her look. She got on the elevator and met one of her father’s workers downstairs in the lobby. They exchanged a few words as they emerged from the hotel and jumped in the black limousine.
Alana held her hands nervously in her lap as they trembled slightly. She had never before been nervous when doing a drug transaction for her father. But the conversation with him earlier made her a little skeptical about what was about to go down. Alana looked over her shoulders and noticed several delivery trucks behind them, but she didn’t think anything of it. She noticed that the limousine was slowing down as they approached the funeral place. Alana opened the door and stepped out with her heels touching the ground. She looked behind her and noticed that the trucks behind them kept driving straight ahead. That made her smile and feel as if everything was going to go just fine.
“Where’s Jesus at?” Alana asked her father’s worker as she looked down at the watch she was wearing on her arm. “He was supposed to be here by now.”