The 'N' Word, Book 1 (38 page)

“Rodger, it’s going to be okay. I am going to try to get you some help. How long has this been going on?” she whispered as she took a seat next to him.

“About a month.” The man’s lips moved as though he’d forced the words out after facing the horrid truth he could barely admit. Rodger was only twenty-two years of age, and had the baby face to prove it. Coming from a long line of wild and free brothers and uncles, he’d followed in their uneven, crazy footsteps, which had landed him in a place he simply wasn’t suited for. He’d done something foolish one afternoon – something that would stop his good times in their tracks: He’d stolen a car. Unbeknown to him, it belonged to an off-duty police officer; thus, a fresh can of whoop ass had been purchased on his behalf, and he was made to shell out the cash for the thing, and eat it, too. A hot pursuit began, with police chasing at high speed and driving the terrified young man way the fuck out of his mind.

His judgment was
more
than impaired – the shit barely existed – but what could have landed him in prison for just a short stint ended up stealing his entire future and tossing it off a damn cliff because then, the unthinkable happened. An innocent bystander was struck and killed in the process as he attempted to make a smooth getaway. The vehicle lifted up off the ground and careened out of control onto a nearby sidewalk chock full of pedestrians.

At the moment the teenage boy drew his last breath, in a way, Rodger had drawn his final one as well. And now, here he was, holed up in Holman, and he’d not be leaving any time soon. Rodger had earnest remorse, seemed to drift in and out of severe downheartedness, and at one point in time, he was on suicide watch. It was a hell of a thing how one bad choice could ruin such potential for an eternity, and it broke Mia’s heart, on behalf of the sixteen year old in the ground, as well as the misguided young man before her, who was being tormented on an hourly basis. He could barely read, but he understood just fine. The worst though was hearing him confess that being dead would be far more pleasant than staying one more day behind those prison walls.

For days, she’d been working on him, trying to bring his spirits up. She got him to the point that he could picture a better day. She also helped him discover he was good at some things that didn’t involve criminal activity, such as, he had an excellent memory and that worked wonders for his interest in theater and acting.

Unfortunately, just as she’d cracked open his hidden little world, he’d turned inside himself, and now there he sat, fighting back tears from the moment he’d sat down before her. He was so bright, full of promise, but his damn spirit had been broken into two, three, and then four multiplied by more, so much more. She stared at the man for a moment or two, giving him a little quiet.

His pale skin looked as if he’d never seen the light of day, and his bright blue eyes and almost platinum white hair made him stand out from the rest. Regrettably, that baby face and porcelain skin had attracted the
wrong
sort of attention… the kind that turned pride into dust, self-worth into desperation, and happiness into continuous waves of despair. He’d just broken down to the core and while he was in shambles, out rolled a piece of himself tied to a cry…

Two men had sexually assaulted him, and then, they invited their friends to join in on the fun. He’d been rented out like a scooter and passed around like a collection plate. From his understanding, they had no intentions of stopping, and that made the notion of taking his own life all the sweeter, tempting, and lovely…

“I promise to try and get you help, okay? I will see if you can be moved.” Her brain worked overtime as she constructed ideas in her mind, trying to dredge up ways to help the young man who told her repeatedly that no one seemed to care about his plight.

“Thank you, please…
please
help me.” His eyes screamed and begged, more than his mouth ever could. “I gotta be careful, ’cause if they find out I told and someone believes me, it could get worse if they don’t move me into protective custody… like them jumpin’ me, cuttin’ me, stuff like that. Maybe comin’ from you, someone will care.”

His eyes washed over with a brand new, fresh batch of tears. After lightly patting his back, she rose from her seat and tended to another student but her thoughts were scattered about like confetti, although definitely without the luster and glitz.

I have to help him. He needs it so badly!

“Excuse me for a moment, class.”

Several of the men sitting there nodded as she made her way towards her over-sized purse sitting on a desk across the room, while a guard looked on from the opposite side. The place smelled of freshly sharpened pencils. The pleasant sound of paper turning carried on the air like subtle musical notes, softening the blow of the news laid at her feet. She rummaged through her purse, moving her silky Asian lipstick holder in colors of crimson, gold and emerald out of the way, then pulled out the piece of folded paper with Aaron’s schedule typed across it. She wasn’t certain why, but she wanted the damn thing in her hands – a way to touch him from afar, yet knowing he was so close…

I need to talk to him NOW! But I can’t… I can’t tell him who I really am, and he’s come so far…

There’s no way I could pull that off anyway. We aren’t due to talk again for several days on the phone. I could write a letter, but he may not get it right away… I will have to figure something out…

She clasped the piece of paper to her chest, crunching it in a tight grasp as she shot the fellow a glance. He’d buried his face in the pages of a workbook, but she highly doubted that Rodger was able to truly concentrate on his studies just at that moment. Matter of fact, he appeared as if at any moment, he’d topple over, crash and burn…

Okay, I’ve got it… yes, that will work. Hold on, Rodger. I’m sending the big dogs, though he is a party of one …

A
ARON HEEDED THE
woman’s words as her voice echoed every now and again, intermingled was a sniff here and there. He got word that she needed to speak to him on the phone. The missive contained simply one sentence, written in a letter stamped: Time Sensitive. His baby had been on the verge of tears since she began to discuss the boy’s situation, then finally, her anguish and caring for the young inmate burst free, tearing him up inside like an angry bird clawing and pecking its way out of his ribcage and breaking the tendons and bones along the bloody way. A woman drowning in a sea of her own heartfelt tears was a weak spot for him; he hated it so much, it controlled him in ways he’d never admit.

Don’t cry, honey…

“So my cousin said the boy was being…” she paused, seemingly unable to even complete her thought, let alone the sentence.

“Raped. Fucked,” Aaron stated dryly.

“Yes…”

“Your cousin is a friend of his?” He raised a brow as he attempted to gain clarification. Details… details… details… even the smallest specifics of the mess were important.

“No, uh, not really. They just talk sometimes, they’re on friendly terms, and he said the guy is really scared, Aaron.”

“What’s your cousin’s name?” He cupped the phone between his chin and shoulder, memorizing every damn thing she stated, collecting pieces of data for his arsenal.

“Um, Aaron, I really don’t want to—”

“It’s cool, never mind. I’ll keep him out of this. The young man though, you said his name is Rodger Prather, right?” He shot a glance over his shoulder at Dr. Owens who once again had placed the ear buds in his ear. This time, the man had two books spread in front of him, and appeared in deep concentration. He appreciated the left hand of trust that was issued on his behalf…

“Yes, Rodger Prather. He’s twenty-two. You think you can help him?”

“Mmmm, maybe,” he said. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Melissa, the less you know, the better off you’ll be. Just understand that I’ll be addressing it.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much, Aaron.”

“No need to thank me.” He laughed. “Besides, nothing has happened yet.” But he knew that was simply a matter of time… and he had plenty of it.

“I feel so bad for him.” The woman sniffed.

“Look, Melissa, guys get raped in places like this all day, every day.” He shrugged. “It happens. I’m not dismissing what you’re sayin’, I’m not actin’ like it’s okay, but you just kind of get used to some things in here; things that aren’t seen as normal out in regular society. There aren’t any women in here, so some guys do what they do. Other guys have wanted to fuck men the entire time, and use this shit as an excuse. Regardless, this young fella is in trouble, no doubt. Since they’ve already farmed his ass out, he’s marked. It ain’t gonna stop; not now, not ever. They knew he was alone, he can’t fight all that good, he’s young, had never served any real time before, and was gullible. He was good as finished before he even put on that white jumpsuit, sweetheart. Anyway, don’t you worry about it, though. I’m tellin’ you I’ll look into it and I will.”

“Okay, I’ll try not to. It’s just so hard to not worry about him. I don’t know why my cousin telling me this upset me so much, but it did.”

“Because you are compassionate and caring, that’s why. You ain’t got to worry about it, I’ll worry about it, and I’ll take care of it. You hear me, baby? I got this.”

“Yes, yes, I hear you.” He could hear the belief and faith in her tone, as if she were sitting a bit taller and prouder due to his words.

“Good… now that that is off your chest, let’s move on to something important, something that’s been naggin’ at me.”

The woman audibly swallowed and drew in air, as if she were at the edge of her damn seat…

Shit, I can’t even tease her right now. Her nerves are a mess…

His lips parted in a mischievous grin as he leaned back in his seat and scratched his chin with short fingernails, the poker straight dense hairs rough to his touch.

“What? What’s bothering you?” she asked.

“I’m starvin’, baby. Send me some more of them brownies.”

The woman burst out laughing.

“Okay, no problem, no problem at all. Matter of fact, I can make a batch this evening.”

“Now that’s love.” He grinned into the phone and laughed lightly.

“Of course it is, ’cause I love you, Aaron.”

“I love you, too, baby. I love you so damn much, and I can’t wait to look in those big beautiful eyes of yours, and tell it to your face…”

SQUAD

A squad, by definition, is a group, team or assemblage of people having a specific task.

My squad is known as the White Nationalists of Alabama, a close knit sect, and here in Holman, we roll deep and hard. Despite the inner workings of secret, broken alliances and my continued investigation to find out who is tossing dirt on my grave before I am even dead, my men are a zombie unit, soldiers who answer to NO ONE but ME. I have my own camp, my own crew, my own sect of a few select men whom I’ve recently been at liberty to speak to again. Dr. Owens has allowed more and more freedom, and Warden Huckleberry has obliged, believing it will aid in him never seeing my damn face again… He thinks I’m unarmed in here, but I’m not. My mind is a weapon of mass destruction.

We don’t have our guns, we don’t have our meet-and-greets, soldier services and barbecues, but we do have our mission, and I’ve given direct orders. I’ve come out from my quiet place to right a white and wrong a fuck-up, because I have the worst of intentions, and I plan to fill a goblet with sacrificial blood before I turn my back and disappear into a cloud of dust…

A
ARON STOOD UNDER
the gaze of a guard who’d been properly pre-paid like a damn Visa to turn a blind eye. Funny how money talks, makes motherfuckers walk and die hard activists squawk. He cracked his knuckles as his lips curled into a sinister grin. He swallowed a croaky chuckle as he continued to survey the near empty cafeteria. The high, semi-obscure windows allowed circular beams of choppy light every few seconds, pouring from the watchtower and the egg white colored full moon, too. He turned towards Kent, a self-appointed derelict, a degenerate in his own right who prided himself on being the Holman leader of the Phineas Priesthood. He detested Kent and couldn’t hide his growing disgust as he looked at the tall, sloppily built pervert from a short distance.