Life Without Hope (61 page)

to keep a straight face as I blew smoke up at the ceiling. We both

knew that if he wanted to testify against me they would let him go

home. For him that was out of the question. We just mellowed in

our own silence, the way people do when they’re heavy into

thought. Finally, I said “Whatever you want to do my nigga, I’m

behind you one thousand percent. You or your family will never

want for anything.” With that, I gave him my word. Major was

still lost in thought. I surveyed the scene. Directly to my right was

a water cooler. I noticed this big dude spying on me. In fact, ever

since he first got here I caught him looking at me like he knew me

or something. It dawned on me he was the same dude a few weeks

ago who made a testimony at church saying his Lord and Savior

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Jesus Christ told him to come back from the penitentiary and tes-

tify against his homies. He said that he had his life sentence taken

off and reduced to five years. Everybody in the church hooped and

hollered praising the Lord, all Black folks and a white preacher. I

had to walk out of there. I was sick to my stomach. I knew that

the life of a Christian was going to be hard work for me, but

damn! I asked Major about the dude and I could tell from the look

on his face he did not want to tell me who he was. In fact, Major

began to stir uncomfortably in his seat. All major said was the

dude was once one of the biggest drug dealers in Tallahassee, then

he quickly changed the subject. We continued to talk, just shoot-

ing the shit. Occasionally I would see the big dude glance our way.

I made a mental note to step to the big dude as soon as the oppor-

tunity presented itself. Major was holding something back. I won-

dered why?

At lockdown, I got into my hard-ass bunk, and for the first

time in almost a year, I slept peacefully.

Early the next morning I was awakened, someone was yelling

my name. “ Thugstin, you got a visitor!” I quickly took a shower

and got dressed in my prison jumpsuit. Whoever designed them

was playing a cruel joke on convicts. The CO checked underneath

my nuts and all in the crack of my ass. To this day I still haven’t

figured out what they were checking for.

I bounced into the visiting room halfway expecting to see my

stepmother, but I was instantly greeted by the jubilant frolic of

small kids scurrying about. Scooby Doo was on the television, the

acoustic volumes turned up loud enough to hide the humiliating

whispers of crestfallen men, gangsters, thugs, desperately tr ying to

hold onto a man’s most prized possession, his family, the jewels,

the cars, the money.

The delicious aroma of buttered popcorn and pizza delighted

my sense of smell. I approached the desk and gave the CO my ID

card just as a little brown girl ran into my leg at full speed ahead.

She bounced off my thigh and fell on the floor. She was about 3

years old. I resisted the urge to reach down and pick her up. She

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was as cute as a baby doll. She got back up and continued to play

with the rest of her new friends. The place was crowed. It was

Saturday morning. The CO seated me all the way in the back. As

I walked to my seat people pointed and whispered. My face had

been plastered on the television and newspapers so long that I’m

sure these people had me on celebrity status.

I sat in my chair and tried to look as inconspicuous as possi-

ble as I occasionally spied the front door waiting for whom it was

to arrive. Finally, I looked up to see Black Pearl and Trina stroll

through the door looking like sophisticated chicks the way broads

start looking when they get used to spending another nigga’s

money. Trina had her hair piled high on top of her head in some

kind of French bun with embellished designs. She wore painted

on black Guess jeans that showed off the curvaceous symmetry of

her God-bless-the-world Black woman’s thighs. She also wore

enough jewelry to make an Egyptian jealous. The diamond

baguette earrings with an iced out Cuban link chain thick enough

to pull a train. She wore rings on just about ever y finger and each

one of them was laced with diamonds. Opposite to her was Black

Pearl, unadorned, unpretentious. She wore a simple white sun-

dress and sandals with her manicured feet showing. Unlike Trina,

Black Pearl’s hair was real thick and natural and it cascaded past

the middle of her back. Her sable velvet complexion seemed to

radiate in hue in contrast to the white dress that strained against

the sensuous rondure of her cur ves. At 19 years old, Black Pearl

was still blossoming into one of the most stunningly gorgeous

Black women that I had ever seen. Trina looked somewhat gener-

ic standing next to her. From the look on both of their faces they

did not look too happy to be visiting me. As for myself, I couldn’t

help but to smile a shit-eating grin. I thought back to the time I

first met Trina and she had stolen my stash and came back and

blessed a nigga with two bricks. I then wished I married her like

she wanted.

Still with a goofy-ass smile on my face, my delight in seeing

this gangsta bitch, I thought about all the millions she had stolen

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from me. Wondered how she was going to dazzle me this time

with her return. Maybe she bought a nigga a yacht. That was the

one thing I did not have. Giddy, I laughed out loud throwing my

head back. A few people glanced over in my direction. I watched

as Trina approached the CO’s desk. He pointed in my direction.

More goofy-ass smiling. She walked toward me. The sway of her

wide hips, ass so fat that you could see it from the front, then my

smile died in a carnage of burning betrayal. I watched as Trina

made a left at the next row of chairs and walked right up to anoth-

er man, she extended her arms. I could hear the bangles on her

wrist chime as she hugged him. He kissed her passionately while

palming her ass. I was blinded with rage! All I could see was blood

behind my eyes. Murder, murder, murder! I breathed in fitted sips

of air like sipping oxygen through a straw, I was desperately fight-

ing for control. I could feel my blood, a rivulet, rushing through

my veins.

Timidly, Pearl approached. Subconsciously I stood rigid. She

tried to speak but no words came out of her mouth. The brim of

her starry eyes were filed with tears. I remember feeling uncom-

fortable, ashamed and embarrassed. Pearl hugged me in a way that

felt like she latched on to my body. Her pungent sobs rocked us

both. I looked up to see the CO giving me the evil eye. I could get

my visitation terminated for “Unauthorized Touching.” The

entire visiting room was watching, including Trina. I had to wres-

tle Pearl off of my neck. We sat down. I tried to smile, I’m sure my

face looked like cracked glass in the mirror in her eyes as she cried

openly for everyone to see.

“
Girl, what you cryin’ fo?” I asked with a frown on my face.

“
I ... miss … you,” she wailed, wiping her eyes with the back

of her hands. The little brown girl that ran into my leg earlier

meandered over, with her index finger in her mouth, the expres-

sion on her face said she was in awe at seeing the big girl cry.

It had been about a year since I last saw Black Pearl. I sat right

there in that chair and reminisced about how a drear y past had

run me down and pounced on me. I thought about Lil Man.

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Shamefully, I cast a glance down at the floor and looked at the

ankle bracelet on her leg.

“
L, when I was 16 years old, pregnant, strung out on crack

with no place to live, you took me in, fed me, gave me a place to

stay.” Pearl painfully swallowed a sob inhaled a sigh. The little girl

tentatively took a step closer.

“
Nigga you picked me up out of the dirt, made me go to

school, made me the woman I am today, and the only reason I’m

saying this is because I love you and it hurts.” She cried some

more. I looked over at the little girl, she was about to cry, too. I

remember a feeling of despair like I have never felt before. And for

the millionth time, I wished that I were someplace else. Black

Pearl continued. “ Trina knows just how much I love you. She

knew it from the very first day that you brought me to that hotel.”

I just sat there in the chair like a deaf mute soaking in her

poignant words. Pearl furtively glanced in Trina’s direction and

whispered. “Don’t be mad at her. When she found out Big Mike

was coming home –”

“
Big Mike!” I repeated, taking a closer look at the dude she

was talking to.

At first, all I could see was the side of his face, and then the

face turned.

Goddamnit! Big Mike was none other than the big dude that

made that testimony at church talking about his Lord and Savior

told him to come back and snitch on his friends and family. I

thought to myself,

no wonder he was watching me the whole time

.

And to think, Major knew it all the time, but did not want to risk

telling me so there would be no drama. Because of all the anger

and frustration, all I could do was laugh a mirthless chuckle, for

the sake of my ego and the fact, all eyes were on me. With a plas-

tic smile on my face, all I could do was think about Trina going

for the okey doke. I thought about the lives this rat ass nigga must

have had to sacrifice at the expense of gaining his own freedom.

OK, I’ll admit, I was jealous as hell too. I knew one thing, I could

not wait to step to dude. As Black Pearl talked I really didn’t pay

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much attention to what she was saying. A woman with a bad case

of acne came and picked up her child. I took the opportunity to

make the bold leap of no return. This is the hardest par t about

going to prison, you have to let go, not just of life and liberty, but

love and affection, or else it will come back to haunt you. No man

can remain immured in concrete and steel for too long and not

suffer the pain and anguish that a woman can bring. A man can’t

expect for his woman to be stronger than he is. In essence that is

what he is asking her to do when he expects her to wait for him.

I took hold of Pearl’s hands and forcefully looked into her big

brown eyes pulling her close to me, her sweet perfume engulfed

me. “Baby girl, I’m no good for you! I’m an illusion, these crackas

have created a game with our lives. That’s what the dope game is.

I want you to sell the Chateau, all the cars and go far away from

here, find you a square and marry him, not some thug. We’re des-

tined to destroy some shit, and sometimes even ourselves. I’ve