Authors: Kevin Bullock
Grab it and go get your issue, my nigga!
He succumbed to the voice like he had done many times before, and marched to his destiny.
* * *
Not only could Cataya not believe now fast Ron had found her, she also couldn’t believe that he had penetrated her aunt’s hose. A place that she had fancied, when fleeing to it, to be a safe haven. A place that if Ron did so happen to penetrated, that her uncle would quickly resolve the problem.
But now as she cowered behind her aunt screaming, she realized how naïve and reckless that assumption had been. Ron proved to be more cunning, and one step ahead of her.
* * *
Fannie had seen and heard it all when it came to dealing with her family. This was why she wasn’t fazed by the sudden appearance of the gunman.
“What are you about to do with that gun, Ra-Ra? Give it to me right now, you’re scaring Taya.”
Don’t let that bigheaded ass bitch talk you out of handling your business again.
“Move, Fannie. It’s not going to work this time. This shit is bigger than you.”
So, move, bitch!
She held her ground, “No. Just tell me what’s going on first. And if it’s worth it, I’ll go with you to help.”
If you buy that shit, then I got an acre of four leaf cloves you can get for ten million. You’ll have all the luck in the world.
Rafeal thought about Fannie disposition, in spite of what the voice was saying. His sister had always been a voice of reason, so he gave in.
“I was at work when these Irish crackers…” He stopped talking when he noticed the unfamiliar female peeking around Fannie. “What’s that? A doctor?”
Run, my nigga! She got a needle!
“Please don’t let her stick me with a needle,” he pleaded. “I don’t want to go back to the hospital.”
“No, no! This is Cataya, your niece. I know you remember her, she’s LeLe’s daughter.”
Rafeal studied Cataya for a moment. A smile spread slowly across his face. “Oh, snap! That is LeLe’s daughter, Fannie!”
“It sure is.”
“She looks different.”
“That’s because you haven’t seen her in a while. She almost grown now.”
Kids grow up to be doctors. Don’t be fooled, my nigga. I’ve seen thoroughest niggas get took out by young bitches like that.
“And you swear that she’s not a doctor?”
“I promise, Ra-Ra. You know I wouldn’t lie to you.”
Bull to the shit!
“Who sent her, then?”
“No body, Ra-Ra. She coming to stay with us for a little while.”
Rafeal reluctantly took Fannie’s word. “Yeah, I can talk in front of, she’s family.”
Fannie listened to his encounter, while Cataya gradually eased from behind her. She noticed strangely animated he was acting and wondered what had caused it.
“They were wrong for putting their hands on you,” Fannie consoled. “But why did you threaten Steve for not doing your work?”
Rafeal dropped his head in shame. “You know the answer to that already.” She knew how the voice influenced him to do wrong.
“You’ve been skipping your medicine, haven’t you?”
Here we go with this shit again.
“What does that have to do with them jumping on me? Even if I would’ve taken it, they already had it in their mind to get me.”
“What you need to understand is there’s an equal or opposite reaction to every action. Every time that you succumb to your other side’s…”
Say my name, bitch! EL The One DeBarge. Say it!
“…way of thinking, it always backfires on you. That’s why I always stress how vital it is for you to take your medication.”
Rafeal’s eyes cut towards the door, so Fannie tried another approach. “Do you remember how bad those orderlies treated you the last time you got committed?”
His eyes widen. “I’m not never going back there. Ever!”
And I’ll vouch for that.
“I hope you never have to. But if you insist on not taking your meds, I fear that you’re going to end up in a place much worst.”
What’s worse than this raggedly ass house? Stinking ass house.
“Like a padded room, twenty-four hours a day?”
“Try a prison cell, twenty-four hours a day.”
He immediately wiped his fingerprints off the gun and handed in to Fannie. “Every time I skipped my medicine I be tripping I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going, Ra-Ra?”
Don’t do it! Prison ain’t nothing like Oz.
“To take my medicine.”
When he descended up the stairs Fannie turned to Cataya. “I know. Don’t mind him; he’s harmless as long as you recognized that he’s off his meds.”
“What happened to him? I don’t remember him being like that.”
“Everybody deals with stress differently. Ra-Ra just haven’t learnt to deal with his the right way. He also needs to quit listening to what those doctors tell him.”
“What did they be saying?”
“That he’s a schizophrenic. He’s not. I only make him take his medicine because he believes it works.”
“He must be really stressed out.”
Fannie waved her off dismissively. “He ain’t no more stressed out than the next black man. If that qualifies you to be a schizophrenic, there wouldn’t be any sane black men on this planet.”
Her attention diverted to the window. “There’s Dehila pulling up now. She’s going to be so surprised to see you.”
Cataya went to the window for a sneak preview. “She looks different from how I remember her.”
“People change as they get older. You heard what Ra-Ra said about you.”
“Yeah, but…”
Dehila stuttered stepped when she saw the gun in her mother’s hand. “What in the world is going on in here?”
“Got it from your uncle. Aren’t you going to speak to your cousin?”
Dehila looked at Cataya, noticing her for the first time. “Oh, my God! Cataya!”
“Hey, girl!”
“I swear I didn’t pay you no attention when I came in. What are you doing here?”
“Granny’s in the hospital and I didn’t want to stay with my dad’s friend.
“You can stay here for as long as you like. Right, ma?”
“She knows that. I wish she would stay permanently.”
They both stared at Cataya expectantly. She only smiled because she couldn’t imagine not being around her grandmother every day.
They all turned their focus to the stairs. Rafeal descended down them, looking bashful.
“Don’t believe nothing they told you, Dee. You know as long as I’m taking my medicine I’m cool.”
I’m…not feeling…to w…well. I told you …not to take…that shit.
The women laughed.
“See,” Dehila began, “ain’t nobody said nothing about you. You just told on yourself.”
“Nah, nah. All I was saying was I’ll do your chores for you, if you and LeLe’s daughter want to go somewhere.”
“Yeah, Dee. Cataya does need you to take her to the mall so she can get some clothes to wear.”
“That’s fine. Why didn’t you bring any with you?”
“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you on the way to the mall.”
“Cool.”
–—Chapter Eight–—
Ten days had passed since Warden Felts and Sergeant Goines had their talk with Hammer, and three more had passed since he had been released from segregation. Hammer didn’t know of all the mechanics surrounding his release, but guessed it had a lot to do with the grievance that Chaplin Stephens filed to Raleigh.
Sunday morning services were going on when he entered the Chapel. He was very surprised to find the Chaplin in his office.
“Good morning.”
He beamed brightly when he saw Hammer. “Ahh, my friend! Take a load off. How are you feeling?”
“God is good. I’m breathing, so I can’t complain.”
“Amen.”
“How come you’re not giving the sermon?”
“Well, Bobbit. I had intentions on doing so this morning until I received a disturbing call informing me of a death.”
“One of your family members?”
“No. A young man who just recently gave his life to the Lord. I know that God works in mysterious ways, but I really feel terrible for this guy. He has six months in on a ten year sentence and his mother was the only person that he had in his corner.”
“Wow! That’s rough. That’s why I pray that my mom has a speedy recovery. I don’t know what I’ll do if something like that happened to her.”
“She’s in my prayers.”
“Thanks. One more thing,” he added, in low hush tone. “I want to thank you for helping with that situation. It could’ve got really ugly for me.”
The Chaplin sat leaned back with his hands entwined on his belly. “I never had problems with choosing sides, Bobbit. If there’s one thing that I dislike, it’s ugliness. I detest it vehemently!”
“Me, too.”
“I know there’s has to be a balance of all things, but if I had things my way, there wouldn’t be any ugliness in the world.”
“Amen to that.”
“I may have something real special for you. I don’t want to jump the gun though.”
Hammer sat up in his chair. “Like what?”
“Like I said, I don’t want to jump the gun. Just keep on praying and stay out of trouble.”
“That comes natural nowadays.”
“Good for you. Now, how’s your daughter dealing with your mother’s illness?”
A grave expression came across Hammer’s face at the mention of Cataya’s name. “It’s hard to say, being that I haven’t spoken with her.”
“That’s not like you. What’s going on?”
Hammer told him about the latest drama surrounding his daughter. The Chaplin’s expression matched his at the end of the tale.
“That’s awful. Do you have any idea where she might be?”
“See…Ron is looking for her now. I’ll be able to narrow down where she might be once he tells me all the places that he has looked.”
“When is he supposed to tell you?”
“Today, actually. He’s coming to see me. I’m surprised they haven’t called me yet, he’s never late.”
“That’s good. I want you to keep me posted on that.”
“I will.”
“And don’t worry; I’m sure your friend has found her. Form what you have told me bout him, he seem to have a niche for being very effective.”
Hammer almost told him that he didn’t know the half. He was saved from saying anything when a man knocked on the door. “Excuse me. I was called down here.”
Hammer heard the dread in the man’s voice, and stood. “I’mma see you later, Chaplin. Take care.”
“You too, Bobbit.”
Hammer nodded at the man as he walked out, but it was evident that he was preoccupied with his thoughts.
* * *
Ron stood when Hammer entered the cafeteria/visitation room. It has only been a month since the men had seen each other, but they embraced like long lost brothers that were seeing each other for the first time in years.
Other visitors could be seen whispering, wondering out loud if the men were homosexuals. The other inmates in there immediately put a cease to the brashful observation, professing their love to the man that had been incarcerated there longer than anybody else.
“I’m glad that they cleared you of that bogus ass stabbing. What the hell made Bobby do that shit for anyway?”
“You now, his ass is tired of breathing,” Hammer sneered.
Ron leaned forwards to make sure that wasn’t overheard. “If you know somebody in here that’ll get it done, I’ll throw them a few dollars. All I need is their name and I’ll get somebody to send it.
“I do, but Bobby’s in the hole. Can’t nobody get to him right now. More than likely, he’s going to get shipped off to another prison.”
“Damn! I’mma make sure that I keep track of his ass through that Inmate.com shit. It tells you where a person is, and their release date.”
“Yeah, he tried to jam me up.”
“I wonder why.”
“It could only be one or two things.”
“What?”
“He could’ve did it because I didn’t help him with the white boys. Or because of the LeLe shit. You know he’s too much of a coward to confront me straight up about it.”
“That’s what it’s probably about.”
“I believe so, too.”
After they dwelled on that for a moment, Hammer told him everything concerning the Bobby incident that he couldn’t mention over the phone.
Ron was smiling when he finished. “That’s alright there. That Chaplin is a real muthafucker. I know you wish he was a she, it would go down major then.”
“I wish,” he said, distantly.
“What’s wrong?”
“Tell me the deal with my baby.”