Two Tears in a Bucket (27 page)

Chapter Twenty-Three

1997

The foamy white bubbles floating on top of the water popped, one after the other. Kevin sat on the tub’s edge, tapping his foot to the familiar melody, providing the perfect serenade for a romantic evening. He recognized the catchy tune and hummed along with the melody. Yet, for the life of him, he couldn’t place the song or the words.

Kevin swished his finger around in the tub. It was nice and tepid, just the way he wanted. He stood, removed the towel from his waist, and offered his hand to his date—the faceless woman swaying seductively to the music. She recognized the tune, as well. He could tell just by the way she hummed that her voice was just as pleasant as her curves. She followed Kevin’s lead and untied the sash around her red silk robe. The sleek material slithered down her mouthwatering bosom and voluptuous hips and rested on the small ceramic tiles of the bathroom floor. Kevin took her soft, manicured hands into his and led her to their bath in the warm tub of sour smelling milk. The bloody dreams that had once haunted him had gradually faded. Night after night, mysterious music played in his dreams as he romanced the same anonymous female.

Roars of chatter bounced off the pale gray walls of the recreation hall. Kevin rested his pen on the table and reclined on the back two legs of the chair, proud of the poem he’d just written in exchange for a box of Little Debbie snacks. This was by far his best composition.

As he scanned the crowded recreation hall for Dre, his newest client, Kevin absentmindedly hummed the tune that had played so vividly in his dream. All day he’d hummed the tune, unable to shake the catchy little melody. With Dre nowhere in sight, Kevin glanced at his latest masterpiece, ready to read it again.

Shit, this is worth more than a box of Lil’ Debbie’s
, he thought. Tapping out the tune on the table with his fingers, he read the poem to the beat of the music.

Damn,
he chuckled to himself. The words flowed perfectly with the melody from his dream.
This could be a song
.

The chitchat boiling over in the recreation hall settled to a simmer. Sergeant Powell’s tall, lanky frame stood in the doorway, his beady eyes darting around the room looking for somebody.

Who the hell in trouble now?
Kevin thought.

“
Kennard!” Sergeant Powell gestured to Kevin with a wave of his hand.

“
Get the fuck outta here,” Kevin grumbled, wondering what he was being blamed for. He hadn’t been in trouble in years. Not since his rendezvous with Mr. Johnson. He’d met with the parole board once, and although parole hadn’t been granted, the commissioner had shared that if Kevin kept his nose clean and stayed out of trouble, parole would be an option.

Grabbing his papers, Kevin headed to the door and followed Sergeant Powell out into the hallway.

“
Hey,” Sergeant Powell said, “I just wanted you to know that I recommended you for a job in the lieutenant’s office.”

Kevin was shocked. He and Sergeant Powell had never had an altercation, but they weren’t the least bit chummy. “You recommended me? Why?”

“’
Cause,” Sergeant Powell responded with a simple shrug. “You one of the few in here that’s actually tryna get it together. Besides, half of these idiots can’t even write their own fuckin’ name, let alone work in an office. But hey,” he threw up his hands and took a few steps back from Kevin, “if you don’t want it, just let me know.”

“
Naw,” Kevin said, knowing a job like that would surely come with special privileges. He didn’t know the perks, but there had to be some. “I’ll take it.”

“
You’d be a fool not to. You start tomorrow evening.”

At six o’clock the next evening, Kevin was escorted down the forbidden corridor that not only led to the lieutenant’s office, but the warden’s, as well. Gold-plated frames held pictures of all the officers employed by the prison.

So this is their lil’ spot,
Kevin thought. Standing before the lieutenant’s office, the guard tapped on the frosted glass door with his knuckles.

“
Ah, Lieutenant!” the guard called out in a forceful voice while pushing the door open.

The dusty smell of books circled through the air of the tight, yet simple office of the lieutenant’s full-time secretary. The ceramic gadgets scattered on the small oak desk and the pinkish sweater with the dainty lace collar draped across the chair told Kevin that the full-time secretary was white, old, and country. Behind her desk were the solid double doors that led to the lieutenant’s massive office.

The lieutenant swung open his door. Standing straight and tall like a decorated warrior, he looked Kevin up and down. Kevin knew not to expect a handshake or any other professional flattery. He was an inmate, the scum on the bottom of the guard’s boots.

With a nod of his head, the lieutenant dismissed the escorting officer.

“
Have a seat, Kennard,” he ordered, pointing his nail-bitten finger toward the secretary’s chair.

Kevin sat while the lieutenant disappeared into his office, reappearing seconds later with a yellow legal pad. He ripped off the top two pages and smacked them on the desk in front of Kevin.

“
I need you to type this memo. The governor just passed some crazy-ass law allowing female guards to work inside the cell blocks.” The lieutenant hovered over Kevin, breathing down his back. “They’re no longer confined to the visiting room. Now you guys will have access to some real pussy.” He chuckled sarcastically.

● ● ●

Months into the job, Kevin had gained the lieutenant’s trust. It was nothing for Kevin to have the office to himself. Sergeant Powell popped his head inside the office on occasion to check on him, but even that seldom occurred.

“
Hey, handsome,” a female guard greeted Kevin, popping her gum as she unlocked his cell. “I’ve been dying to escort you. I’ve seen you in the visiting room a few times.”

Kevin noticed the extra twist she threw into her hips as she opened his cell like Vanna White or a Bob Barker beauty.

“
Get that ass, Kevin!” a voice rang out from the tier above.

“
If one more person calls me that…” she said through gritted teeth, slamming the cell door shut.

“
That’s what you are to a lot of them.”

“
No,” she said, her eyes glued to Kevin’s, “that’s not what I am. That’s what I have.”

Damn,
Kevin thought. His eyes roamed her body as she led the way to the lieutenant’s office. She was a pork chop away from being chunky, but her plumpness was well proportioned. A beauty pageant winner she wasn’t, but her brown sugar complexion and the five or so cornrows that hung to the small of her back reminded Kevin of a ’round the way’ girl. Best of all, she was real pussy like the lieutenant said. He could tell by the way she swayed her hefty hips that a sample was his for the taking. He read her nametag as they stood before the office.

“
Thanks for the escort, Officer Moore.”

“
Why we so formal?” She blew a small bubble with her gum and winked at him. “Call me Yolanda.”

Yolanda became Kevin’s personal escort, ushering him to and from the lieutenant’s office. Day after day, Kevin matched her flirtatious comments, letting her know that he was down for whatever, whenever. Yolanda picked up on his willingness, and in no time, she began sneaking in his favorite fast food or home-cooked meals she’d prepared especially for him. He loved the attention, and the meals had him licking his fingers. But, after being locked up for damn near seven years, he wanted pussy, not Big Macs. He waited patiently, knowing that the opportunity would present itself, and finally, it did.

Yolanda followed Kevin inside the office and secured the locks.

“
What you doing?” Kevin smiled, hoping and praying that today was the day he’d get some ass. The mere thought was getting him excited.

“
The lieutenant’s not in today,” she said seductively. “And Sergeant Powell is in a meet—”

Before she could get the words out, Kevin had her pinned against the door. His hands traveled her body, groping the parts of her that had gotten his attention weeks ago. He was rock hard and knew Yolanda could feel it.

“
Officer Newsome’s watching out for us,” she panted, pulling her lips from his as he unbuttoned her shirt. A lookout was good, but the farthest thing from his mind. A few minutes of pleasure would be worth sixty days in lockup. “But,” she said, grabbing Kevin’s hands to get his attention.

“
But what?”

“
She wanna get in here with Kong. She’s hiding him in the janitor’s closet.”

“
She can get in here,” Kevin said, freeing himself from Yolanda’s grip.

“
A’ight, but we gotta hurry up.” Yolanda undid the knot in Kevin’s sweatpants and slid her hands inside his boxer briefs. “Damn, Kevin,” she gasped as she pulled out his arousal.

“
So what you gon’ do with it?”

“
You sure you cool with them coming in here, right?” she asked, her eyes fixed to Kevin’s erection.

“
As long as I get mine, I ain’t thinkin’ ’bout them.”

“
A’ight,” Yolanda said, lowering herself to her knees. “I’ma show you what I’m ’bout to do with it then.”

Kevin’s liquid excitement oozed from him as Yolanda teased the head of his penis with her tongue, licking away the salty treat.

“
Ah, shit,” he moaned as she welcomed him inside the warmth of her mouth. Beads of sweat formed along his forehead as he fought the urge to coat her tonsils. He was loving every single lick, every suck, but that wasn’t how he wanted to come.

“
Come on, baby.” He pulled Yolanda up from the floor.

Unbuckling her thick black belt, she knew what time it was and allowed her pants to fall to her ankles.

Shit,
Kevin thought.
I ain’t got no muthafuckin’ condom.

“
Don’t worry,” Yolanda said as if reading his mind. There wasn’t enough time to undress. With her pants around her ankles, she leaned over the small desk. “I ain’t got nothing. I couldn’t work here if I did.”

That was all Kevin needed to hear. He guided his hardness inside of her and pounded away. Yolanda matched his rhythm and tossed her ass back. Kevin held on to her waist with one hand and watched as he eased in and out of her.

“
Come on, Kevin. You know we can’t be in here long.” A quick tap rang across the door. “See,” she huffed. “You gotta hurry up, baby.”

“
A’ight…a’ight.”

Kevin grabbed Yolanda by her waist and plunged deeper and deeper. She cried out. He didn’t know if it was joy or pain, and as his body jerked and his eyes rolled to the heavens, he didn’t care.

“
Shit,” Kevin gasped, out of breath. “I feel like I’ma pass out.”

Yolanda smiled, pulling her pants from her ankles. “I’m getting ready to let them in. I look okay?” she asked, tucking her shirt inside her pants.

“
Yeah, baby. You good.”

“
Okay.” She kissed him quickly on the lips. “You gon’ be a’ight with them in here doing their thing?”

“
Yeah,” he panted. “Tell ’em come on.”

Minutes after Yolanda left, the smell of sex filled the office. Kevin sat behind the desk, working on nothing in particular. He tried to ignore their cries of passion, but their moans were inviting him to a party he couldn’t attend. He was getting aroused all over again.

Officer Newsome held on to the arms of the high-back chair in the corner of the room as Kong worked her from behind. Not sure of how much more he could take, Kevin was thankful when Kong screamed out in pleasure, bringing the fiasco to an end.

“
Shit, girl!” Kong licked his fingers and slapped Officer Newsome across her pale white ass. Pulling from her, he looked over at Kevin and said, “What’s up?”

“
Ain’t shit, man.”

“
Naw, nigga, I’m saying what’s up with this?” He pointed at Officer Newsome’s ass. “Come over here and get you some of this. I put that shit in her ass, man. In her ass!”

“
Oh yeah?” Kevin said, trying to play it off. There was no way in hell he could stand up.

“
Come work whichever one of these holes you want. Shit, bustin’ one nut can’t make up for seven years. As tight as her ass is, you’ll come in three fuckin’ pumps, I promise.”

Blonde strands of hair dangled over Officer Newsome’s face as she tossed Kevin a welcoming glance over her shoulder. “Yeah, come on,” she said, rocking her pale ass from side to side. “I can handle you, too.”

Ah, man,
Kevin thought. He’d had anal sex with Rhonda, but he’d never been with a white girl.

“
Look how wet she is.” Kong sucked his two fingers and eased them back inside her anal den. Officer Newsome moaned and worked her ass against Kong’s fingers. “Look at this shit, man.” Kong chuckled like a crazed mental patient and held up his two wet fingers for proof.

“
Hey!” Yolanda tapped on the door. “Bring that shit to an end. Sarge is on his way ’round the corner!” she whispered in a panic. “I’m gone!”

“
Ah, shit!” Officer Newsome stood, struggling to pull up her pants.

Kong peeled off the semen-filled condom Officer Newsome had eagerly supplied him with and stuffed it in the pocket of his sweatpants. Fear waltzed across Officer Newsome’s beet-red face. She ran her fingers roughly through her hair, knowing it was her ass if she got caught with Kevin and Kong in the lieutenant’s office. She’d be fired with no questions asked.