When he was in close range, I stood and dapped him up briefly engaging in a brotherly hug. He was missed; I couldn’t lie. Besides Daisy, he was the only other person that really knew me. Shit, if it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t be the nigga I was in hereeither. He was breaking bread with the guards left and right on my behalf.
“What it do foo?” he asked taking a seat across from me.
“Shit, I wish I could tell you something new but it’s the same bullshit. Windale ain’t got shit but a blank fuckin’ document on getting me the fuck up out of here. Put somebody else on this shit and make sure they got a dual license. Windale too incompetent for me. Look out of state if you have to.”
Nodding, he agreed. “I’ll get on it once I’m gone. How they treating you in here? I need to drop a ticket?”
“Nah, I got shit under control. Trust me, ain’t nobody crazy in this bitch for real. Handle Windale too. I’m ‘bout sick of him.”
“Damn Windale. Hate to do it to you, but orders are orders,” he said aloud. “Me and Fancy spent some time with Aunt Daisy yesterday. We took her out to eat and shopping. She miss you man.”
“I’m already knowing. I just spoke to her the other day letting her know I ain’t got much longer. Somebody gon’ get me out this muthafucka. You looked into what I told you?”
“Hell yeah. That nigga a fuckin’ ghost. He hit Zone Four and cleared everything. He had them niggas thinking he was reinstated and took every penny along with a couple of bricks. Enzo definitely set you up. We trying to find somebody other than his mama and sister that can give us something. Them two bitches ain’t no good and he ain’t doing for them either. They bills behind like hell.” Kong offered every detail he could and confirmed my suspicion.
“Find that nigga before I do Kong. I’m gon’ make a headline out that bitch if I get a hold to him. I can promise you that,” I responded confidently.
Shaking his head, he rambled on ‘bout the rest of the organization. Catalina was staying off American soil until I was released but she was still feeding my inventory so Kong couldhandle my clients. They fought like siblings but when it came to me and my business, they were always on the same page.
“Let me ask you this. Why you think that nigga Enzo flippin’ all of a sudden? What the hell you do to him for him to go against the grain?” he inquired.
“Muthafucka, yo’ guess is as good as mine. When he approached me ‘bout working for me, I looked at him crazy cause he older than me for one. Nigga go get a damn job. Second, he was adamant on following my lead. He ain’t listen to nobody but me at first. Nigga you know it. You saw how fast he ranked up and held it down. This new shit he on is blowing me. Even before I was knocked, I peeped the change. I’m on the same vibes you on. I mean, unless he in his fees over me putting a hot one in him,” I expressed.
We both took a minute to think that shit over and simultaneously said, “Nah.”
“I was gon’ ask you ‘bout the cameras. I can’t access them with just the password. I need yo’ handprint. How the hell I’m ‘spose to get that footage when you here?” he inquired.
“Next time you come, call Sierra before you step in and hand it off in the lot, let her bring it in, and I’ll handle it in her office. Once you get the footage, don’t hit Windale. I want that nigga Enzo found and offed. I ain’t gon’ be here long. Don’t make me get out and do it myself,” I threatened.
“Aight, damn.”
For the rest of the visit, we bullshitted around talking ‘bout absolutely nothing. When it was time for him to get up out of here, we dapped up and parted ways with nothing but love. He was the realest nigga on the team. I had to give it to him. The respect grew while I was confined in these damn walls. My brotha ain’t switched or folded. He was holding me down without hesitation and complaints. Straight solid.
I was cuffed and walked back to my cell. To my surprise, Old Skool was back and stretched across his bunk. One thing I respected the most ‘bout him was the way he carried himself in here. Niggas knew he was an OG in the game and came to him for advice left and right. He earned that shit over the past twenty years.
Seeing me back, he chuckled and sat up on his bunk. Old Skool had some height on his ass too. I was still taller, but he wasn’t but a few inches under. He was lean as hell too and stayed in the gym. Wasn’t shit old ‘bout the punches he threw when it was time to get down on the yard.
“You ready?” he questioned wearing that mischievous grin.
“I already told you I ain’t doing that shit Old Skool. Let it go.”
Hopping down, he grabbed his bible and rosary. He wasn’t trying to hear nothing I was talking ‘bout. He stepped in the doorway and waved over the guard. “You know how to pray, right?”
“Yeah, nigga I know how to pray. I ain’t going Old Skool.” It took a minute for the guard to show face but when she did, she came with two sets of cuffs. “What I just say?”
“Youngblood you need a friend. Come on. Stick them arms out so we can go, nie.” He was adamant of me joining him.
He was one of the only folk in here that could tell me what to do. My boy gained that from knowing my pops, to be honest. If he wasn’t as close, I would’ve stood on that no. Sighing deeply, I followed suit. That dumbass grin grew stretching from ear to ear. He got what he wanted and that was all that mattered.
We were ushered to the library moments later. A place a nigga ain’t seen the inside of for real since I’d been here. Sierra had this bitch decked the fuck out. She had a big ass flat screen on the back wall showing the game on mute, two rows of iMacs, and a private sitting area that was glassed in. My guess was it was soundproof.
The cuffs were removed, and we were given free range to walk around. I followed Old Skool to a small sitting area where a few other inmates were seated with their bibles in tow. I knew more scriptures than many thought so if whatever this program was involved OG, I could follow. Daisy didn’t play that.
An elder black woman strutted from the back looking like she belonged on somebody’s usher board. She took a seat in front of us wearing that churchy smile, and I instantly got irritated. Not because a nigga soul was bothered but because I ain’t see the joy in none of this shit. If I wasn’t happy, I damned sure ain’t want to be around nobody that was. I was that damn selfish.
“Hi fellas. I see a couple of new faces, so I’ll introduce myself. I’m Sister Andy, the counselor here at FCI Miami and director over Chat with Angels. How we doing today?” she asked.
Everyone answered with their individual responses. She locked eyes with me and smiled. She was waiting for me to respond directly. I looked around and the rest of the inmates had eyes on me as well. I wasn’t used to the spotlight, so I lowkey got nervous.
