The 'N' Word, Book 1 (5 page)

Chapter One

…Two weeks later

T
HE CIGARETTE WAS
named Rita. He’d affectionately called her that as he moved the thing about between nimble fingers and glared down at the glowing, orange spark that seduced him with her smoldering heat. Her thin, white body was the thing he’d dreamed of, and the bitch being a hot red head never hurt. Yeah… Rita, a sexy siren; she almost made his dick hard.

He gave all of them names as of late; it made the time go a bit faster. After all, boredom was the shit incubi were woven from. Wasn’t it once said it was the Devil’s playground? No truer words had ever been uttered. Given a place to play, boredom would destroy the mind of the most rational of men.

Aaron had gotten a rude awakening upon his arrival. He was told the ol’ stand by rules had changed since his last stagey appearance there. For one, inmates were no longer allowed to smoke in their cells. However, he was in isolation; thus, a special, carefully wrapped amends was made for him, the guidelines twisted, broken, and their tormented remains tossed aside over one shoulder like a pinch of salt, in hopes of a wish come true. The condition—that unspoken wish—was that he’d keep his mouth shut and not cause a ruckus. His mere presence had the natives restless and talking, and not in tongues.

As he listened to Georgia Satellite’s, ‘Keep Your Hands to Yourself’ playing on the radio, he and Rita slumped down on his rock hard bed, the damn thing cold and angry against his ass cheek and hipbone. The thin sheet and blanket did little to provide warmth and comfort; their existence was nonessential, seemingly there purely for aesthetics.

“You goddamn son of a bitch!”

Aaron slowly looked up and peered at the man on the other side of the iron bars. He tapped his foot a few times; the black boot settled once more, but the damn dust didn’t. Ignoring the man, he retreated into his own thoughts as if nothing had been said at all.

Goddamn it. When am I going to be moved into a normal unit? Down here in isolation, in these old run down turtle shit shell cells! No electronic doors, no upgrades, just concrete and threats…

“Hey! I’m talkin’ to you!” The guard yelled a bit louder as he placed a hand on his non-existent waist. “What the
fuck
did you do, Pike?! What did you say?”

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” he replied in the calmest of tones as he tossed his cigarette onto the floor, then stomped it with the tip of his boot. Poor Rita… her light went out entirely too soon…

“You know what the hell I’m talking about, Pike! You started a goddamn riot!”

The corners of Aaron’s mouth curved in sheer satisfaction as he slowly got to his feet and approached the man who stood there as if he had the whole world in his hands. He immediately took notice of a layer of sheen on the short, squatty fucker’s nose as they stared into one another’s eyes. On a long exhale, he took him all in, memorizing his target’s every nuance. Wrapping one palm around an icy bar, and then the other from within his miserable cage, he looked down at the guard, seriousness etched in his expression.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, cowboy. Don’t make me tell you again.”

“Call it off… call the shit off!” He plunged his finger in his face. “We finally got everything settled down, but they vowed to do it again and again until you’re released from here. I’m not playing around with you, Aaron! Not playin’ one bit!”

Aaron lowered his head and slowly ran his hand over his short, buzzed dark hair. The prickly yet soft feel of the even cut felt a bit soothing against his large, calloused hand. He slowly returned his gaze to the man, stared him in the eyes.

“Well, Bill, looks like you got a bit of a problem, now don’t cha?” He grinned, his heart filled with a renewed douse of immodesty.

“No, Pike,
you
have the problem. Do this shit again and see what happens. You’ll be in here for the remainder of your sad life!” The little man’s light brown eyes gleamed with delight, as if his words held water, the kind Jesus turned into wine.

“Are you… threatening me, Bill?” Aaron cocked his head to the side, catching his partial reflection in the dark, iron bars. “I
know
you wouldn’t be so reckless as to do such a thing, now would ya?” He laughed lightly, a tickle in his throat eliciting a few coughs as he pushed himself closer to the bars, feeling the chill of the metal rest against his ribcage. Thoroughly enjoying how the fucker leaped back, like a cat startled by a hissing snake, he took the man in once more, this time laughing directly in his face.

“What’s wrong? ’Fraid of your own shadow?” he teased.

Aaron surmised his shadow was a coward, too…

“I can smell the fear on you, Bill. How does your ol’ lady even psych herself out, huh? How can a woman be attracted to a sniveling shell of a man like you, huh?”

“You shut your damn mouth,” the guard spat, waving his finger at him. “Now get back away from these bars and sit your ass down. We’ll find out what to do with you and then—”

“What to
do
with me?” Aaron kept his position and frowned. “What you gonna do with me Bill, hmmm?” He bit his lower lip while a budding smile waited impatiently to burst forth from the joy of it all. “You gonna have a long talk with Jesus? Pray me away?” His eyes narrowed on the man as he imagined decapitating him right then and there with a twist of the neck and a firm, hearty yank.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll straighten up.”

“Straighten up ’nd fly right? It’s a bird… it’s a plane…Tell me to give peace a chance?” He shook his head. “You and the warden, huh? You gonna tell me that you’ll have me locked away so long, I’ll be a great grandfather before I ever get the hell outta here?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying, Pike.”

“Like that’s supposed to fuckin’ scare me.” He rocked from foot to foot…real slow, like a lion assessing his raw and bloody rations. “You ain’t gone do
shit
.”

“We got plans for you, Aaron.” The man swallowed hard, his thick neck barely showcasing the lumpy Adam’s apple under his fair skin.

“What do you have planned, huh? Nobody can make diplomacies for me. Do you know what that means, or am I speakin’ too high ’nd fancy for you? No matter, just know this. I’m the only planner ’round here, Bitchified Bill. Now, you turn your fat, sweaty, stinkin’ ass around,” he pointed lazily into the distance, “and you belly flop right on outta here, go find a rock to crawl under and die; but, before you go, you make sure I get to talk to my attorney, ya hear?” He clicked his tongue against his teeth and stood a bit straighter.

“I’m not doing shit for you, Aaron, and I
meant
what I said. You are in over your head and I can’t
wait
to see you fall.” The man turned to walk away, but just then Aaron called out, slapped the bars so hard the damn things made a piercing sound like a xylophone struck by metal. Grumbling ensued from nearby cells—muttered talk and protests coated in profanity.

“You let me get on the phone with my attorney, Bill, or there’ll be some folks by to pay you a visit. Now, you don’t want that, do you? And turn your ass around when I’m talkin’ to you! Don’t you
ever
turn your back on me.”

He kept his eye on the guard as the man slowly faced him again. Slicking another cigarette out of his shirt pocket, Aaron cocked his head to the side and lit the damn thing as he fought an urge to give in great, violent, nasty detail what would happen if his demands were not carried out to the motherfucking ‘T’.

“You threatened a guard, it is going in your record,” the man stated calmly, though his forehead glistened with fresh sweat, the kind born from a nervous system going haywire. The kind that had fear as a mother and hatred as a father. Yeah… the sweat was born and now dripping down the side of the blubbery bastard’s face, baptizing him in the name of cowardly spirit.

“See, Bill.” His lips parted, allowing bounteous loops of smolder to creep like cautious fingertips through the gaps in the bars. They moved about like haze covered hula hoops, seducing him into a state of relaxation. “You just never know when to shut up. I’m going to give you a pass. You’re still fairly new here, don’t know any better. Now,” he squinted as if a bright flashlight were suddenly shone in his eyes while he kept his new girl tight between his index and middle finger, “I’m going to ignore what you just said to me, and then you’re gonna open this cell and let me make that call, you hear me?”

The man simply stood there and stared as the showdown morphed into something thick and mean. The damn thing had daggers and threatened to toss ’em, just how Aaron liked it.

“…I wouldn’t test me, Bill Parker who lives on Sunset Avenue, with two dogs, a wife, and three lazy ass kids…”

The guard looked about, his face red. Timidly, he took one step towards the cell, and then another.

“That’s right… keep comin’.”

Aaron grinned as he gave a ‘come hither’ motion with his fingers. The guard took another step, checking his surroundings, and then another until he was back at the cell, facing Aaron head on. The men looked at one another, none blinking.

“Now.” Aaron tossed his cigarette onto the floor and stomped her out as he blew out a lonely circle of smoke out of his mouth. “I’m going to place my hands through this slot, you’re gonna handcuff me, and then you’re going to take that key out your damn pocket, slide it in this motherfucker, open the goddamn door, and walk me to the nearest phone.”

…And just like that, he’d once again predicted the future.

Several minutes later, he was sitting in a creaky wooden chair with an old payphone cradled under his chin and tucked tightly in the crevice of his neck. Static filled his ears as he spoke.

“I need her to call me back.” He sighed as he left his third message for the woman. “What the hell am I paying her for?!”

“Mr. Pike,” the receptionist stated, her tone void of inflection, care or concern. “She is very busy but will—”

“Busy? She’s about to get a shitload of free time if she keeps ignoring my goddamn calls. She has two hours to call me back. If she doesn’t, you let her know she’ll be fired. End of discussion.” And then, he simply hung up.

Bill stared at him, his thin lips pulled tight, his body tense.

“Take me back to the cell… I’m done here for now.”

Bill placed the restraints on his wrists with shaky hands. They marched back together, thick silence shoved between them, blocking off the air supply, making everything heavy and awkward. Soon, he was back in his cage, and the place seemed even colder than when he’d left it minutes earlier. It was a bit darker, void of anything virtuous and commendable. The door closed and locked before he could fully turn back around. Bill was on his way back up the hall and he stood there alone, minus the occasional wails and preposterous song lyrics recited from an inmate a few cells down.

Here he was with the hardened criminals, just one floor up … He could hear them, smell them, almost see them. They were the prisoners deemed too dangerous to let amongst the general population. Here he was with filthy animals, mostly black bastards who’d committed inconceivable crimes and sucked from the previously swollen tit of the country until the well had run dry. Here he was isolated by prison rules, forced into a precarious situation as he was surrounded by niggers and spics, all vying and dying to get a piece of him. Here, he’d fight day and night to simply stay alive. Therefore, Bill had to be taught a lesson. Not just for Bill’s sake, but to convince everyone within earshot.

No one is going to break me down in here. No one is going to win any battle against me. I will fight them all in my sleep if I have to… I’ll fight them and win, show no mercy.

His muscles tightened as he began to pace his cell. A few minutes later, he ripped off his shirt and got to the ground, grunting hard as he did a series of pushups, forcing himself to go further and further until his palms and arms begged for reprieve. But he pushed himself forward anyway, for pain was nothing but a mere sign of the weakness of the mind, when the body could do more, so much more, than the psyche ever believed.

So he endured… he continued… he maintained, never ceasing, never stopping, refusing to give in, give out, or give up…