by Tracy Brown
Jada had sex with Jamari for the first time that night. He took his time, and seemed to enjoy every moment. Jada was disconnected, and to her it felt empty. There was no emotion in it at all for her, other than sadness that Born had turned on her so viciously. She disappeared inside of herself, as she had done countless times when she was a prostitute. Jada let Jamari explore her body, and she finally accepted that it was over between her and Born. She thought that she just might find happiness with Jamari, if she gave him a real chance.
After that day, every time he came to see her he had crack for her. She appreciated Jamari’s openness and his acceptance. She misinterpreted it as love. Jada lost some weight, but maintained her sexy curves. She had few outward signs of her addiction, other than her dwindling bank account balance. Jamari was proud to be seen with her, and the two of them went out all the time. At first she would hope to run into Born, so that he could see how well she was doing without him. But soon she heard that Born had met an unexpected twist of fate.
32
HIGH PRICE TO PAY
Two days passed after Born argued with Jamari and Wizz in the barbershop. He went about his business, as usual. But he longed more than ever to talk to Dorian. He missed his boy, and was consumed with guilt. He still felt like he was the one to blame for Dorian’s death, and he wished that he could go back to the fateful moment and change his actions. He never would have taken his eyes off Raquel. Never would have let her get inside the house. Born felt responsible for Sunny not having Dorian to depend on, and for their daughter not having a father. In short, he missed his friend. He wondered where Sunny was, and he wished she was around to tell Jada to leave Jamari alone. Sunny had all but disappeared after Dorian’s death, and he hadn’t even seen his friend’s little baby girl.
Over those two days, Born thought about how life had changed so much for him. Dorian was gone, and so was Sunny and the baby. Jada was a thing of the past, and even his childhood cronies were no longer as close to him as they’d once been. He knew that, despite the civil nature of their relationship, Martin still didn’t particularly like the fact that Born had done his own thing, and left the crew behind. In Martin’s mind, Born had been selfish, keeping all his connections to himself, while his former crew was left struggling to keep up.
Born felt alone for the first time in his life. It really was lonely at the top. It was nice having Anisa around. But she was someone who didn’t know his story. And he didn’t have the energy to share it all with her. She didn’t know him the way that Jada had. The sex was good, and her conversation stimulated him. For these reasons alone, he kept her around, and she became the new lady in his life. Somehow, he still felt a longing in his heart for the life he once had. He had had it all. A great best friend and mentor, a lovely lady on his arm whom he loved with all his heart, and an enterprise no one could penetrate. And in the blink of an eye it had all gone away. All but his hustle, and that was what he focused on. His days were spent making moves and taking risks, trying to maintain his hold in the streets. He spent his evenings with Anisa, though his mind wandered to what used to be.
He awoke one morning, and left Anisa at home asleep while he went to the store. He planned to drive a few blocks to the convenience store on Victory Boulevard. But as soon as he pulled out of the driveway and onto the street, he was surrounded on all sides by dark vehicles, and cops started jumping out. He knew what was up, and he put his hands up as the cops closed in and opened his car door, removing him from the vehicle. “Don’t move, Marquis!” He was amazed that they knew his government name. From that alone, he figured that they had done their homework. Either that, or they’d been tipped off. He didn’t resist, didn’t say a word as they read him his rights, and showed him the search warrant. They wasted no time searching both the house and his car. He said nothing, and neither did Anisa, as they led her out of the house in pajamas, and put her in the back of a squad car while they searched the house. Born heard them asking her where she was from and how she knew him. But she didn’t answer their questions, and they got frustrated, and left her sitting in the back of the squad car half dressed, while they searched the house with police dogs.
Soon the cops emerged with smiles on their faces, and Born knew they had found the small amount of drugs he had stashed in the kitchen canister. His suspicions were confirmed when he heard one officer say to another, “Got him! We got him!” It was only about ten bags of white powder. Not enough to hit him with twenty to life, but still enough to make his heart sink. Born had never been one to keep the bulk of his drugs where he rested his head. The few bags he had in his residence were nothing compared to what they could have caught him with. He wasn’t too concerned, but he also didn’t want to get his hopes up that things would work in his favor, when he knew it was quite possible that they might not. He watched his neighbors come out and shake their heads at him, as if they’d known all along that he was unfit for their suburban neighborhood.
He looked through the police car window as they drove him to the precinct. He spoke not a word until he arrived and was processed. Born was booked, fingerprinted, and put in a cell. He called his mother and explained the situation. She promised to be in court in the morning to see what the deal was. Born instructed her to get in contact with Grant Keys, the attorney from Dorian’s crew. He asked her to explain what had happened and to see if there was anything Grant could do to help. In-grid told Born not to worry, that she had everything under control. After talking to her Born felt a lot better. The police questioned him for hours that night. They wanted to charge him with conspiracy, but with no coconspirators that was impossible. For once, Born was glad that he had no partners, no team. The detectives who questioned him didn’t seem convinced that he worked alone. They kept asking him about Brooklyn—who were his connections from Brooklyn? Instantly, he thought of Jamari and wondered if he’d stooped low enough to rat him out. How else would they know as much as they did? But thankfully, they didn’t know enough. In order to prove conspiracy, they needed people to say that they worked with him. They didn’t have that, and they couldn’t get him to talk. Born was mute as they barraged him with questions, insults, and accusations.
Finally, at two o’clock in the morning, they returned him to his cell. Born settled in for the night, refusing to worry too much. But all the while he was wondering what was going on. How had they caught up to him out of the blue like this? Had somebody tipped them off? Over and over he replayed his argument with Jamari and Wizz in his head. He wondered if one of them had dropped dime on him, and realized that it was a very likely scenario. He wondered how Anisa was holding up under all the pressure, and wished that there was some way that he could talk to her.
With very little sleep, Born awoke the next morning to face his destiny. Hours passed before he was finally called to the courtroom, with Anisa standing nervously beside him. He looked at her and nodded reassuringly. Then he scanned the courtroom until he found his mother’s face. She winked at him, and Born felt more at ease. Beside her sat Grant Keys and Born smiled, happy to see his face. The judge and D.A. went through their formalities while Born’s attorney pled his case. Marc Burnett was the finest criminal attorney in the borough, and Born had chosen him to represent both him and Anisa. When all was said and done, despite the prosecutor’s attempts to have bail set at ridiculous amounts, the judge asserted that such desperate measures were unnecessary. Born’s bail was set at five thousand dollars, and Anisa was released on her own recognizance. Born glanced at his mother on the way out, and smiled triumphantly. Within an hour both he and Anisa were free to go.
When he was released Born eagerly greeted Grant outside the courtroom. Born told Grant that his attorney was urging him to take the five-year deal that was being offered, since the prosecution was willing to drop all charges against Anisa in exchange for Born pleading guilty. With good behavior, he could be home in three years. Grant assured him that he could do better than that. He told Born that he had a relationship with t
he judge who was presiding over his case.
“How do you think you got such a low bail?” he asked, smiling. “Give me a chance to go back and talk to him in his chambers, and I’ll see what I can do about the deal you’re being offered.” Seeing the look of relief on Born’s face, Grant decided not to let him get his hopes up. “Yo, Born, there’s a big probability that you’re gonna have to do some time. Hopefully, it won’t be nearly as much as Burnett said they’re offering you now. But he’s gotta give you some type of penalty because of the nature of the crime.”
Born nodded and stuck his hands in his pocket. He looked at Grant. “Somebody ratted me out, didn’t they?” he asked.
Grant nodded. “I’m told it was a confidential informant. They called in an anonymous tip from a pay phone at the Staten Island Ferry terminal.”
Born shook his head, knowing that if he saw Jamari or Wizz he would kill them for snitching. Fucking cowards! Seeing the fury on Born’s face, Grant put his hand on his shoulder reassuringly. “I’ll get back to you about your plea offer, but don’t get your hopes up too high. I’ll do the best I can.” Born shook his friend’s hand, grateful that Dorian had exposed him to such valuable connections.
On the way home, Anisa was silent. She had greeted Ingrid stiffly, pissed that she had to meet Born’s mother under these circumstances. Anisa was angry, and she was near tears after spending the night in jail. She wasn’t prepared for shit like this. The lifestyle Born lived was one that she was enjoying, but prison—that was never supposed to be a factor, and Anisa was as mad as hell. She hadn’t called her family to tell them about her arrest, since doing so would have meant disgrace for her. She had the kind of family that would have shunned Born for leaving her so vulnerable, and she didn’t want that. She knew that Born was a smart man, who would always be successful. She had watched him move and could tell that he was an intelligent hustler—certainly more intelligent than his cohorts in the game. She didn’t want to blow what was turning out to be a pretty good thing, by complicating things with family drama. Anisa was getting used to living the life that Born led. She was growing accustomed to the fine linen and exquisite surroundings, the jewelry, the cash, and all the luxury he surrounded himself with. The last thing she wanted to do was become a headache for him. She figured that as long as she continued to play her cards right and be as opposite of Jada as she could, eventually Born would give her everything she wanted. She was counting on it. Born talked to his mother, and Anisa listened to their exchange.
“You should have known better than to have that shit in your house, Marquis.”
“I know. Not now, Ma. Please.” Born shook his head, and looked out of the window.
“Not now? When, then? You need to be more careful. I know that you know better than that. You’re slipping. You know you gonna have to do some time for this, right?” Ingrid took her eyes off the road briefly and looked at her son. “Burnett said they wanna offer you a deal. I ain’t saying to take it, but you need to be ready for that possibility. How much money did they get when they raided your house?”
Born had thought about this question, and knew that Ingrid would inevitably ask it. He already knew where this was going. “I had like seven thousand in cash, along with all the other stuff they seized.”
Ingrid shook her head. “Well, you know they only turned in seven hundred dollars in cash, along with the drugs they found.”
Born nodded that he did know that. “I expected that, though. They never turn in all of it.”
“I just don’t understand how you could be so sloppy.” Ingrid couldn’t help leveling with her son. “I know you had to expect that these clowns out here would get sick of seeing you on top. You know the streets only love you until you start doing too good. Then they hate you. You gotta watch your back. You should have been expecting them to come to your door eventually, and for that reason you never should have had shit in your house.”
Born looked at his mother. His eyes pleaded with her to save this conversation for later. He wasn’t in the mood for this so soon after being sprung. She grasped the meaning in his stare, and closed her mouth, driving the rest of the way in silence. As they pulled up in front of the house, Ingrid turned to her son. “I cleaned up as best I could, but the place is still pretty messed up.” Born had expected that the police had trashed his home during their raid, and he was grateful that his mother had used her spare key to straighten up his home as much as possible. He thanked her, gave her a kiss on her soft cheek, and climbed out of the car.
Ingrid watched Anisa in the backseat, looking terribly upset that she’d been forced to spend the night in jail. She sat there, not budging as she waited for Born to open her door and help her out of the car. The expression on her face was that of someone who was suffering. Ingrid, knowing that her son would take all the weight, and that Anisa wouldn’t have to take a fall in the end, didn’t like how the young woman was portraying the role of the victim. Anisa’s lips were pouty, and she had her darkest sunglasses on her face, like she was at a funeral or something. In-grid knew that if you want to be a hustler’s wife you need to be able to roll with the punches, and take things for better or worse. Anisa didn’t seem to have what it took to stand the test of time. Ingrid took note of this, and added this to her list of reasons for not particularly liking her son’s new girlfriend.
Born opened the car door, and Anisa stepped out and bid his mother good-bye. They walked into the house, and both went to take much needed showers. By the time Anisa emerged from hers, Born was hanging up the phone after a conversation with Grant. Born was not disappointed. Grant had made his case sound a lot less grim. He explained that due to the quantity of drugs they’d found and Born’s previous arrest record, he would have to do some time in jail. But the judge had called in a favor and the prosecution was seeking far less time than the five years Born had previously been facing. Now Born was looking at a one-and-half-year bid, which he eagerly accepted. The charges against Anisa would be dismissed. He thanked Grant for his help, called Burnett and instructed him to accept the plea deal. He could tell that Anisa was relieved to hear that she would be off the hook. Born, on the other hand, spent the next few weeks preparing for his incarceration and passing his torch in the streets for the duration of his absence.
Now Born wished he had a crew behind him—someone he could trust to hold shit down in his absence. As much as he hated to have to do it, he went back to his old hood and got in touch with his boys from Arlington. Martin was still locked up on the attempted murder charge. So Born called on Chance and Smitty. He explained what Burnett had told him, and turned over the buildings in Arlington to them. His only condition was that they hold it down for him and welcome him back when his bid was over. The three of them spent an evening together like they had in the good old days—drinking and reminiscing, and burying all their old hatchets. He was confident when he left that his cronies would wield their power well. He put Omar in charge of Park Hill. It was an operation that was running smoothly. And since Omar was one of Dorian’s old cronies, he trusted him. Also, he had the power of Dorian’s notorious brothers behind him, and Born figured few would challenge that. He passed the reins to the people he trusted most, and went to embrace his fate. He pled guilty, and went in for sentencing. Anisa and his mother were both in the courtroom as he was led away to begin his bid.
During his months at the jungle in New York City known as Rikers Island, Born managed to steer clear of catching another case. He was anxious to leave Rikers, where the C.O.s let the inmates run the jail, and the gangs ran amok. Born had nothing against the gangbangers. But he saw them all as bullies. And he only respected bullies who had the heart to bully all alone—not those with a whole gang behind them. Six weeks after he was locked up at Rikers, he was transferred to Franklin Correctional Facility in upstate New York. When he got to Franklin, Born went to reception, and they reviewed his case and all the charges against him. The decision was made to put him into a drug program for six mont
hs. Born assumed this was due to the fact that all the charges against him were drug-related. He surmised that they probably wanted to show him the type of damage he was doing by participating in the drug trade.
During his time in the program, Born was forced to take a look at himself and his role in the game. He thought about his father, who had never gotten over his love affair with the fast lane. He started to wonder if it was time for a change. But prison being what it was, he was forced to revert back to the devil within daily, and to react to his environment. He had a few words with his fellow inmates from time to time. But for the most part he managed to keep himself out of trouble. The part that was the hardest for him was the constant attempts by the correction officers to demean the prisoners. Many of them walked around like overseers on a plantation, barking orders and daring the inmates to cross their invisible lines. They looked for any excuse to toss a nigga in the box, and many of them were assholes. A couple were cool, though, and those were the ones who came in and did their jobs without becoming obsessed with power and control. Born didn’t like being told when he could use the telephone, or what colors he could wear. But he managed to humble himself and roll with the punches of being incarcerated. While in the drug program, one of the administrators explained that 85 percent of those inmates who earned their GEDs got paroled. To Born that was a blueprint to get out of jail, and he was determined to be in the next 85 percent. He studied for and passed his GED, and kept his mind occupied with books and magazines.