The Trill-Land Justice Holding Center
It had been weeks and I was still in this shithole without a bond or my wife, and every day felt like somebody was tryna peel a layer off me that I needed to survive.
Niggas in here walked around actin’ like this shit was normal, like they ain’t feel that cold air crawlin’ under they skin at night when the lights cut off and the whole block go quiet. I wasn’t scared though. That wasn’t in me. I was just pissed, ‘cause I should’ve been home rubbin’ on Toni’s stomach and whisperin’ shit to my baby, not listenin’ to guards slam metal doors like they was really runnin’ somethin’.
They had me tucked in a pod full of niggas I knew better than to trust, but the thing about niggas is… it don’t take long for them to recognize when somebody ain’t to be fucked with. Theywatched how I moved, and how my mind was somewhere far as hell from this jail. Nobody asked me no weird ass shit. Nobody tried me. Nobody bumped me or tried to size me up. Every nigga in here knew the vibe, even before they heard what I did. And once they found out I killed the Attorney General sons? Yeah… niggas left me the fuck alone.
I wasn’t thinkin’ about none of that though.
All I gave a fuck about was Toni and my baby. The fact that she was carryin’ my child had been runnin’ through my head since the moment she said it on the phone. It ain’t even feel real yet. I spent years wonderin’ if somethin’ was wrong with her or wrong with us, and then this shit happened at the worst possible time. The minute I get locked up, my wife finally get pregnant, and I couldn’t even hold her or be there to watch her glow.
Every time I thought about it, my chest damn near cracked open. That was my baby in her. It was my legacy, my blood and I wasn’t lettin’ nobody take me away from that.
The guard banged on the cell door with his baton. “Phone time, Mensah.”
I got up slow, rubbed my hand down my face, and followed behind him. The other inmates turned they heads when I walked through, some noddin’ in respect, and some movin’ out the way. I walked like a nigga who knew exactly who he was. Even locked up, I wasn’t small.
I sat down at the phone and dialed the number I been had memorized.
Pressure answered on the first ring.
Yeah, me and Pressure had got into it and that bitch knocked me out, and yeah, I shot up his cars right after, but none of that shit mattered right now. That was family business, and this was my life on the line, so all that old shit wasn’t even up for discussion. When it came to me bein’ locked up and facin’ what Iwas facin’, my cousins was right here behind me like they always been.
“Aye, ‘Loski,” he said, his voice deep and irritated like he had been cussin’ somebody out five minutes ago. “What’s good?”
Before I could answer, Renza jumped in, loud as hell in the background. “Nigga, why you sound like you smokin’ a Newport? Raise yo’ muthafuckin’ voice, boy, we can’t hear you.”
I shook my head and cracked a smile. “Man, shut yo’ bitch ass up, Ren.”
Renza laughed. “A’ight, nigga, I hear you alive.”
“I’m alive,” I said, “but I’m bored as hell. I’m ‘bout to break out this bitch if I’on get a bond, real shit.”
Pressure let out a light laugh. “Man, you ain’t breakin’ outta nothin’. Sit yo’ ass still. The last thing we need is another charge piled on.”
“Nigga,” I said. “I’m dead ass.”
“I know you is,” Pressure said. “That’s why I said it. You sound like you ready to chew through the bars.”
“I am,” I said. “These niggas in here weird. I can’t deal with this shit too long. My wife at home pregnant as hell and I’m stuck in this muthafucka.”
Renza said, “Well, we know them niggas in there ready for you to get out too, ‘cause I KNOW you in there givin’ them niggas the blues. Niggas probably in they bunks prayin’ at night hopin’ you get a bond tomorrow.”
Pressure laughed. “Facts. Kay’Lo probably flipped the whole tier upside down by now.”
“Man, I ain’t flipped shit,” I said with a wide ass smile. “I been cool.”
“Kay’Lo… cool?” Renza dragged the word like it was a lie he wanted to taste. “A’ight, if that’s what y’all call it in Cell Block C.”
Pressure finally got serious again. “We ain’t lettin’ you sit in there, Cuz. You know that, right? Nigga, Auntie Abeni don’t even play ‘bout you.”
Renza cut in fast. “A.K.A. Big Dawg.”
Pressure said, “For real, and when Big Dawg step in, shit move.”
I sat back in the metal chair and let that shit hit me the way I needed it to. Auntie Abeni was different. She wasn’t loud or messy with shit she did. She wasn’t out here sayin’ what she was gon’ do. She just did it. She ain’t blow smoke. She moved smoke out the way. If anybody could get me out this bitch, it was her.
I had been keepin’ up with my mama and pops through the calls I could make, and every time I talked to them I heard somethin’ sittin’ behind they voices. Ma tried to sound strong for me, but she was hurtin’. Pops kept holdin’ back like he wanted to tell me somethin’, but he would switch the subject every time. I ain’t know what that was about yet, but it stayed in the back of my head.
