The 'N' Word, Book 1 (33 page)

Yeah, fishing. Melissa’s latest letter sent a friendly reminder that…well, wait. The shit wasn’t friendly. She asked straight out if he’d done his ‘homework’ yet…

Falling in love with a damn teacher… She wouldn’t let the shit go. Yeah, yeah, he told her that he would in the last letter, but sometimes backtracking was part of the damn process. Nevertheless, she’d made it 100% clear that he needed to do what the hell she asked. But, the entire notion seemed so damn silly to him.

What good will it do?!

He was prepared to lie and tell the woman that yeah, he’d done it, but he knew better. Something inside him told him she’d see through his deception, and it could destroy her trust in him altogether – the trust he’d put so much time and effort into building. So now, here he was… Someone was playing The Kooks’ ‘Bad Habits’ nearby.

He’d surveyed some of the other guys, made judgments, assessments, and gave them a failing grade, too. He didn’t want the Marcus Garvey wannabes. They were typically the guys with short hair or bald; some wore glasses and they didn’t sag their pants. No, their belts were pulled tight and their expressions tighter. They walked around gripping a book or two, speaking loudly like ministers from a pulpit, while shooting him evil glares, like the shit meant something. It would always give him a chuckle when they turned away from his stares, clearly no longer wanting to tempt fate. Then there were the faggots, the fuckin’ fairies like Dr. Owens, switching their asses as they walked about, parading around like pansies. They hunted dick, hoping to scope out and scoop up a prison Daddy, someone to protect them and give them gifts, shiny trinkets, treat them like a wife. No, those kind wouldn’t work for this experiment.

So, his eyes drifted back towards the man in question. He couldn’t be put in an easy, breezy box. His hair was neatly combed, but he looked like he might tear some shit up… He didn’t hold any books, but he did have an mp3 player, and he bobbed his head a few times to a beat Aaron couldn’t hear…

He’d never seen him before.

He might be new… but shit, I’m rarely allowed out here. Who the hell knows?

Without further hesitation, he checked his surroundings and made his way towards a small concrete picnic table. On one end sat a glass ashtray, waiting there for him. It had been freshly cleaned, he could tell, due to the slight watery residue in the thing. Taking a seat, he looked up at the sky and winced. The sun was extra bright, beating down upon his body with all of its might. He wasn’t used to such extreme light, especially after staying in a dark, dank hole for the majority of the day. Perusing the area once more with a nonchalant glance, he swiped at his nose to cure an itch, and turned towards the guy who leaned up against the gate.

He called out to him. “Hey, what’s up?” He raised his chin in a greeting gesture as he waved his fingers in a ‘come here’ motion. “You want to sit down?”

The man looked at him curiously, as if not believing his own damn ears. He cocked his head to the side, and soon, a grin spread across the bastard’s clean-shaven face.

“You gotta be kiddin’ me, mayne. I
know
who the hell you are. I ain’t sittin’ wit’ chew… you got me fucked up.” The guy laughed harder now, like the joke was on repeat, just in case it was missed the first damn time around.

“Why not?” Aaron’s lips lifted in a garish grin as a rumble of amusement filled his core.

“Why not?” he repeated, pointing to his chest. The wires from his headset moved about as he drew a bit closer. “Yeah, so your boys can come over here and try to beat my black ass for points or some shit. You one of them grand wizards or somethin’! Supreme white boy with a hoodie! I ain’t fuckin’ wit’ you, man!” The man continued to laugh in disbelief, then turned his back on the entire scene, leaving Aaron to face his damn ponytail.

“Grand Wizard?” Aaron burst out laughing. “I’m not Ku Klux Klan, man… Seriously, come here for a minute. I just want a word with you. You aren’t scared, are you? Besides, it’s just me sittin’ here. It ain’t like it’s ten against one.”

The man slowly but surely turned around and faced him again. After a few short moments during which he seemed to be in deep deliberation, he made his ways towards the table, his back straight, and his right fist balled up hard…

“
H
E’S HERE, BUT
he ain’t sayin’ much.” Winston sloshed the water around in the half crumpled cup, itching for a cigarette. He held the phone with one hand, and looked down the hall towards the guards.

“What’s his mood like, though? Do you think he knows anything?”

“Well, I reckoned he does. He don’t talk much. I think he might be depressed.” He cackled. “He’s in general population for half the day, mornin’ and afternoon. I guess Huckleberry trusts him now.”

“Shit! That means he’ll be out and about, pickin’ brains and intimidating people. Damn it!”

“Don’t worry about that, chief.” He unwrapped a piece of gum and stuffed it in his mouth. “These motherfuckers ain’t squealing. They know they’ll be in a heap of trouble. Aaron ain’t got the same clout. He was in isolation too long, so he lost control. Every man for himself… He asked Danny to find out what was goin’ on, but we ain’t tell Danny nothin’. He ain’t a part of this.”

“Keep Danny’s ass out of this; that was good advice. He kisses Aaron’s ass…To him, everything Aaron says, goes. We need more pressure. He don’t have a clue as to what’s really going on, and that’s good. I tried to help him, but he just wouldn’t listen.”

“I know you did. Aaron thinks he knows every goddamn thing! It’s time for some new blood!” he roared. “We’ll take care of it, don’t you worry. He ain’t perfect. He’ll eventually slip up and then… well…” He shrugged, a big smile on his face. “Then we got him!”

Chapter Fifteen

“M
ARCUS, HUH?
Y
OUR
name is Marcus. Cool. My name is Aaron.” He extended his hand. It stayed out there, unshaken, untouched. Aaron was a bit grateful for that. He didn’t want to touch him or even share air with him, but he was compelled to do so. Too much was riding on the bullshit.

“I know your name.
Everyone
in here knows your name and who you are. ‘Specially since you’ve been allowed in general population now. We know your schedule.” He chuckled, showing all of his teeth, one of the front ones encased in gold.

Aaron sat back and drew invisible drawings with his fingertips across the rough surface of the light gray, concrete table.

“Ain’t you concerned about them seeing you sittin’ here with me?” the guy asked as he resituated himself on the park bench. “You said there’s only you here, but I see them mothafuckas.” Sneering, he pointed across the way at a small group of white men.

“No, not really. You sitting here could be about anything,” he said, sucking his teeth. “We’ve had to talk to black people before in public.” He shrugged. “No biggie.”

“No biggie, huh?” The man smiled sardonically, eyebrow raised in obvious suspicion. “So what do you want? Ohhhh, wait uh minute! Wait a damn minute!” He pointed in his face, his expression etched in anger. “If you on some fuckboy shit, you gonna find yourself—”

“No!” Aaron shook his head. “Nothing like that. The reason may surprise you actually.”

“Oh really? I doubt it…”

Aaron smirked, appreciating the fact that the man didn’t trust him as far as he could toss his ass.

“Look, here’s what happened. I made my girlfriend a promise… and so, I want to do what she asked me to do. That promise involves
you
.”

“It don’t involve
me
! Whatever you and yo’ ol’ lady done cooked up, I ain’t in that recipe, bruh, believe that! I got enough trouble, as is.”

Aaron couldn’t help but laugh… The guy was funny. He looked around and then grew serious, forced himself to go through with the whole thing.

“Listen, you know who I am; obviously, word travels fast. I don’t know who you are though. I’ve never seen you, and I’ve been in here a few times. I know almost
everyone
. When did you get here?”

“…Six months ago.”

“For what?”

The guy’s eyes morphed into inky slits, undoubtedly debating how to respond. He leaned in closer, and the lines on his forehead relaxed, his placid expression now replaced with a scowl.

“Maaaan, look at this shit right here.” He waved him off and turned away, dismissing him. “You got one of them damn Nazi marks on yo’ neck, man…” he stated solemnly. “You and I ain’t got nothin’ to discuss.”

“It’s a swastika. I have one on each side.”

“I
know
what the fuck it is.” He spat angrily onto the ground, yet still maintained their half broken gaze. “You are exactly who I thought you were… a white boy who see all black people as niggas…like we beneath you. Fuck you, man.” He got to his feet and pulled at his headset until he had the ear buds properly placed. The beat of the music began to throb loud and hard; so much so, Aaron felt it vibrating within him as well.

“Wait!” Aaron called out, competing with the music volume. “Don’t judge me by what you see…by my tattoos or even what you’ve heard. You don’t know me, you don’t know my story, you don’t know shit about me.”

“
What
story, man?” The man snatched the ear buds back out his ears, but the music carried on. “You ain’t gotta story I’m tryna hear, okay?! All you mothafuckas are alike, you know that? The only white boy I fucks wit’ is Paul Wall and if you don’t mind, I’m about to finish listening to his song right about now.”

The rage in the man’s tone was not one he was unfamiliar with; matter of fact, he knew it all too well.

“Marcus, give me a few minutes. That’s all I ask. Just talk to me for a second or two.”

“Is it minutes or seconds? Make up yo’ mind but it ain’t no damn matter because I ain’t givin’ you nothin’. Go find some crosses to burn, march around wavin’ racist signs in front of churches, start a race war and all that other bullshit you all like to do.”

“You look like the kinda man that’s marked, Marcus…” Aaron smirked.

“What are you talking about,
marked
?”

“You haven’t chosen… If you aren’t part of a group, the guys in here will start huntin’ you, making you choose. I can take care of that problem for you, make it all disappear, go away. You like to be by yourself? It can stay that way; all I have to do is say the word.”

“Yeah, like your ass is going to tell a mothafucka to leave my black ass alone.”

“I don’t have to do it that way. There are other ways to make sure you get the protection you need. Now, I think that’s a pretty good deal, especially since all I want is a little conversation.”

“Don’t
nobody
up in here just want a little conversation. You full of shit, man.”

“I’m not tryna arrange that you get jumped, not tryna get favors, none of that shit … What I told you was the truth.”

“And what’s that?”

“My girlfriend doesn’t agree with my ways, so to speak. She wants me to try something else, something new. I’m coming to you, man to man. That’s it; nothing more, nothing less.”

“What does she want you to do?”