“I can’t believe I finally got pregnant,” she whispered. “After all this time.”
“I know baby,” I said. My voice dropped even lower. “This the one I prayed for without even prayin’.”
She giggled a lil’ bit through her tears. “You don’t pray.”
“I do for you,” I replied.
We talked until the guard came back and told me to wrap it up. She ain’t wanna hang up, and I didn’t either.
“I love you,” I told her. “More than I ever said out loud.”
“I love you too, Kay’Lo.”
“Be strong for me,” I said. “And eat, and sleep. And touch your stomach for me. My mama already know she need to see about you.”
“Okay, I will,” she whispered.
I hung up and let the receiver fall against the phone cradle. As the guard walked me back to my cell, the weight of everything hit me again. The shit was heavy and ugly and sharp.
My wife was pregnant. My baby needed me, and I was trapped behind bars while the Attorney General was fightin’ to kill me.
This shit was killin’ me from the inside, but nobody in here would ever know it.
I got back on my bunk and stared at the ceilin’ with my jaw locked, my hands clasped and my breath slow.
I wasn’t dyin’ in this bitch…
I wasn’t leavin’ my family…
The Trill-Land Justice Holding Center
The following day…
“I swear to God, I’m ‘bout to hit this nigga in his shit if he keep playin’ with me,” I mumbled while circlin’ my cell.
A nigga was tryna use the phone to call Toni and these bullshit ass guards was doin’ everything they could to piss me off on purpose. I had been locked up for weeks now and every last guard in this bitch acted like I personally fucked their mama. I ain’t know why they hated me and I damn sure didn’t give a fuck, but I wasn’t gon’ pretend they wasn’t on my ass. Every time I asked to make a fuckin’ call they looked me dead in my face and told me to wait. Then they walked off like I wasn’t shit.
I wasn’t built for this type of patience. I ain’t never been no nigga who tolerated grown men playin’ with me. I was already pacin’, already mad and already thinkin’ about Toni bein’ pregnant and home by herself while these lame-ass guards wasted my time. I had circled the small ass cell so many times I damn near made a track in the floor.
Finally, one of the guards I couldn’t stand—the fat nigga with the crooked badge—walked up like somebody told him to hurry the hell up.
“Mensah. Phone,” he barked.
I sized him up long enough for him to swallow. He looked away first, which always amused me, but I ain’t say shit ‘cause if I opened my mouth I was gon’ add another charge to my name. So, I walked past him slow, just to piss him off, and made my way to the phones.
I picked up the receiver and dialed Toni’s number. I pressed it tight to my ear, waitin’ to hear her voice, but all I got was a loud static that irritated the fuck outta me. I hung up and dialed it again, but it was the same shit. Static, fuzz and her voice jumpin’ in and out like she was underwater. I could hear her say my name in broken pieces, but I couldn’t make out shit she was tryna tell me.
“Aye, what the fuck is wrong with this phone?” I snapped toward the CO, but he ignored me with that same bitch ass walk he always did.
I dialed again, my jaw clenchin’ as the static screeched in my ear. I was ‘bout to slam the whole phone against the wall when I heard somebody speak behind me.
“You dialin’ it wrong.”
His voice wasn’t loud or disrespectful, but it damn sure wasn’t friendly either. It was just dry, but smooth like he ain’t fear shit in his life.
I turned around slow and there was this damn white boy.
I had seen him a few times in passin’, mostly when he was disappearin’ into his cell right next to mine. He had wild-ass white hair that looked like he cut it himself with a switchblade. His body was tall as hell and tatted all the way up, ink crawlin’ across his skin like none of the shit hurt. I had smelled weed from his cell more than once, and the nigga didn’t even try to hide it, but that was that white privileged shit. His shit stayed jumpin’, people always stoppin’ by, which told me everything I needed to know.
