Love Made Me Do It (25 page)

              I stood up and regained my poise and thanked her for her words of advisory.  I assured her that I would take head to her words.  No words can explain how I felt in that court room on that day.  My dignity and pride had long been gone.  I knew at that point there would be no escape from what was to be my destiny, which was prison. 

              I walked back to my pod, in my cuffs and shackles.  As I walked in, all my jail buddies were waiting for me to tell them what the Judge had said.  But the look on my face told them that my life in a jail cell; wasn’t quite over.  I let my destiny be determined by my reckless actions and unsavory decisions.  Drugs and lack of judgment was sending me packing to a place that housed killers, thieves, and addicts. 

              They don’t tell you when you are going to be rolled up and sent off to prison.  They don’t want anyone blowing up the bus or planning any escapes.  But I felt it that night.  As soon as I drifted off to sleep a C.O tapped me on my foot and told me it was time.  I sat up and looked around, some were sleeping.  Some were up waiting to hug those that were off to the next part of their journey.  I gave a few hugs and waived as I grabbed my pillow case full of my belongings and headed out the corridor to be transported to Florence McClure Women’s Correctional Center.

              I sat in the holding tank all night talking with others who were going to be transported.  I listened to the stories and made mental notes of the things that I thought I would need to survive.  The only thing I knew about prison was what I saw on T.V.  I would find out in just a few hours if T.V. was a true depiction of that.

              They came in like drill sergeants and made us take everything off and bend, squat and cough.  The prison guards looked like men. They gave us men jumpsuits to put on and shackled our wrists to our waist, and shackled our ankles together.  They led us to a white van, with tinted windows.

              I remember riding down the Las Vegas strip in that van.  I pinched myself, still unable to fathom that for the next year I would be in prison.  Hopefully being imprisoned would free my mind and release my demons. 

(Actual court documentation)

CHAPTER 35

The Fish Tank

There are no welcome mats or trumpets that play when you enter the prison.  However there are predators that are awaiting fresh fish, so that can grab ahold of their money and their bodies.  I was scared as I watched all the prisoners clear the way for the newbies as we were escorted down the hallway. Our housing unit was known as the
fish tank.

             
The fish tank is where I would be spending the next four weeks being psychologically evaluated; go to a dentist and an OBGYN.  You are locked down for 23 ½ hours a day.  You are allowed out for a half an hour to shower and use the phone.  You are housed in a cell with 11 other women.  I was terror stricken, but I made a promise to myself that I would not cry here.  I would do my best not to show weakness.  Since I was so emotional I had no idea how I was going to hold up.  So I did my best.

              I was friendly but not to friendly. I tried to do more observing than talking.  I watched how others interacted with each other, and luckily I had a “friend” with me from the county jail and I was sure to see others that I had did county time with.  In my room was a little bit of every kind of criminal, a drunk driver, a few probation & parole violators, a violent offender, and a few like me…who had a chance but didn’t listen or follow directions.  In addition to our room, there was the certified OG who had done two prior stints in prison.  

              Some of us talked about our cases, some of us remained quiet.  For the first few days I just tried to keep my composure and make phone calls to the people in my life who mattered, my mama, a few friends, and I even called his mama.  Even though my mom said that she was done with me.  She promised to be by my side.  Tears are streaking down my face as I recall all the pain I heard in her voice.  I told her that I had $1,000 on me but I wasn’t sure how long that money would last over the course of one year.  The last thing I wanted to do was take from her because I couldn’t get my shit together.

              I loosened up over the next few days and enjoyed the fact that we could see out onto the yard and watch general population.  It was so weird looking out windows that were no bigger and wider than your forearm.  I watched as the girls on the yard vied for the attention of the certified OG in my room.  They wanted to pay her, get her commissary and be her wife.  This amazed me.  I’ve always been fascinated with human interactions especially ones that were unfamiliar to me.  This was definitely an unfamiliar territory.  That would either kill me or make me stronger. 

              We talked shit, played cards, made dice outta hardened toilet paper, communicated with chicks on the yard that we knew and passed the time.  The second day in the fish tank a C.O. came in and told us that Michael Jackson had passed.  I remember all 12 of us singing Michael Jackson songs until we fell asleep.  There was a certain amount of nostalgia that covered the room that night.  That made you think about what was; what could have been and what was still yet to be.  Excitement and fear were the only emotions that ran thru my body. 

              There were so many questions I wanted to know the answers too.  But I kept my mouth closed, I was mindful that I didn’t look like anyone and I didn’t talk like anyone there and I never wanted to be pointed out as the weak one.

              You’ve probably heard stories about prison relationships between the women and prison relationships between the male guards and the women.  I will tell you that it’s true and I fell into the trap of an unpredictable love affair with the OG in my unit.  She slid a note onto my bed late at night that said; “I know you’re not gay, but you will see that I am a shark around here and you will want to roll with me.”  I think I was a little flattered but mostly scared.

              I was awake when she slid the note on my bed, but I never opened my eyes.  In the morning, she was extra nice and gave me some of her breakfast, since I was probably the greediest one in there.  It was a kind gesture since I felt like I was always starving.  I got to know her as she did me.  I listened to her advice and her stories and what led her to smiley road.  I was intrigued by her.  She was different, aggressive but with a teddy bear like demeanor.  She was stud with a fade, a missing tooth and a bum leg.  She shared that her first trip to prison, some years back was because she stabbed her wife a dozen times.

              The days and nights passed as we were each called out at different times to go to the dentist, see a psychiatrist and get pelvic exams.  They took your blood to see if you had the virus or any other communicable diseases. Also so that when you were released you didn’t leave with anything that you didn’t come in with.  This was real life and very similar to what you saw on T.V.

              We always gossiped about why some girls went to the OBGYN more than others and who would be lucky enough get new teeth that the state paid for.  In hindsight none of it is funny.  All those potential scenarios could either damage or severely ruin your life.  As humans we often joke about the misfortune of others, just to mask the pain that we feel inside, but don’t know how to deal with.  I was one of them.

              I went to all my appointments and passed with flying colors, my coochie, teeth, and mental health all got the A-O.K from the doctors.  Although, I was hesitant to tell the psychiatrist everything about me I did my best to be honest.  I also decided that a good way to pass my time and not get my ass whooped while I was in prison…Was to take the OG up on her offer, to be her wife. 

              I saw how she operated.  How she was able to get things smuggled to her, how well respected she was.  Plus I could release my sexual frustrations with her.  I looked at it more as a survival technique versus a love connection.  A decision that I was bound to regret. 

              I started having the perks of an OG’s wife right away.  The trustees smuggled razors, Q-tips, a relaxer, magazines and body-wash, in to her and I had privy to all of it.  While my cellmates looked at me in awe, I was shaved, smelling good, clean ears and a fresh perm. I was ready to make my debut in general population; looking unfazed by the curve ball life had thrown me. 

              Every day was the same routine in my cell.  We ate breakfast around 6am, we went back to sleep, around 11 they let us out for 30 minutes, we ate lunch, took a nap, played cards, ate dinner, lights out, and then every night or at least every other night I was getting head from the OG.  She made everyone else turn towards the wall.  She ran everything including me.  My previous abusive relationships made me such an easy target. 

              Then one by one we stared being called out to start our real prison journey…GENERAL POPULATION.

After four weeks of being locked down and no sunlight.  I was ready to order from the commissary list, take a long shower, and reap the benefits of having an OG for a girlfriend.  As crazy as it seemed I was happy because I knew without one doubt that my next stop would be home whether I remained in Vegas, or went back to California.  My time of freedom was coming.  I was hoping that my year would fly by. 

              General population was loud and a little bit intimidating.  The first night that you go to general population you most likely go to A-Pod.  A-Pod is the ghetto of all pods it’s the transition pod, until they figure out where to permanently house you for the duration of your sentence.  The C.O.’s are in and out of A-Pod because shit gets real in there.  I saw how real things could get, when I went to go use the phone and saw a girl beat another girls head in with the phone receiver. 

              I figured that this is where 10 years of getting beat up by my lover would separate me.  From those who got beat up versus those who did the beating.  I just wanted to go home the same way I came in…a pretty face with no cuts or permanent scarring.  Not knowing if it that would be a possibility or not, I proceeded every action with caution. 

              My OG girlfriend had put me up on a lot of game and with her as my woman.  This one year would hopefully fly by.  Since I had a low level felony there was a likely hood that I would be sent to a low level security camp in Jean, Nevada.  My girlfriend also put me up on that because she didn’t want me to go.  Everybody wanted and needed someone to do their time with.  Whether it was inside the prison walls or…Outside the prison walls.  I had no one.  Since me and my lover could no longer communicate. I did my time with her. 

              Much like when they initially “roll you up” to come to prison.  They roll you up to go to camp that same way.  No one knows when.  They just announce it over the speaker using only your back number.  Then the C.O’s come and get you.  I had been in general population for about two weeks. I was just getting used to being there when I heard my back number announced over the loud speaker. 

              My girlfriend was right.  She also warned me that her last girlfriend, who was sent to prison, came back within 11 days to be with her. I better find a way back before then.  Or she would send somebody up there and they would hurt me.  I found myself yet again involved in an abusive situation. 

              Although I had seen her aggressive side, I never fathomed being on the other end of her anger.  I carefully listened to her for several nights prior to my departure to camp, on how to get sent back to the prison.  Even though I didn’t really know how I would accomplish being sent back. I had every intention on following her directions step by step.  The only factor that worked in my favor was that not every low level offender was sent to camp.

              At 6am, I was told to roll up for camp. I hoped down from my top bunk and grabbed my stuff. I was irritated and sleepy but I did as I was told.  When you go to camp you also had to cough and squat.  But this time when I coughed. I had to be extra careful because I had a 14k gold wedding band that my girlfriend had given me.  Wrapped in plastic and stuffed inside of me.  I had tucked it behind my cervix that way when they demanded those hard, deep coughs I knew it wouldn’t be flying out. That ring solidified our union, and I was damn sure supposed to come back with it on my finger.