“Your uncle said about the only thing you can do for Jermaine,” he whispered, “is pray.”
“Lauren,” Sydney whispered for the third time as she gently shook the mound in the middle of her sister's queen-size bed. “Lauren, wake up!”
“Huh, what's wrong, Syd?” Lauren asked groggily as she finally poked her head out from under the comforter. Clearly disoriented, she propped herself up to turn and look at the black iHome clock on her nightstand through half-closed eyes. Turning back to Sydney, she continued hoarsely, “It's five-thirty in the morning. What are you doing up already?”
“Lauren, listen to me,” Sydney continued urgently. “I need you to cover for me.” Mid-sentence, Lauren suddenly plopped back down on her bed with securely closed eyes as if she'd just been shot. “Lauren, this is serious,” Sydney hissed as she started to shake her sister again. Now it was
Sydney's turn to look at the clock. With every passing minute her window of opportunity was closing and she knew it.
“Relax, I hear youâyou want me to cover for you,” she mumbled even as she started burrowing back under the covers. “Cover you for what? Where are you going, to meet Jason or something?”
“I'm going to see Dad.”
At that, Lauren sat straight up in the bed with her eyes wide-open. “You're going to jail?” she exclaimed.
“Shush! Lower your voice,” Sydney quickly admonished her twin as she covered Lauren's mouth with her hand. “You know Altimus is a light sleeper. I'm already cutting this close. He'll be up in a couple of hours for his morning run, so nine out of ten, he's not even in deep sleep anymore.”
Lauren tugged Sydney's hand off her mouth. “Um, and how are you planning to make it to the jail, Harriet Tubman?” she immediately questioned. “Last time I checked, Dad is locked up at least an hour or two away and, hello, our car privileges are suspended indefinitely. Not that I could really explain a missing vehicle and what not.” She paused to look at Sydney's fitted all-black outfit and was immediately reminded of the lead character from
Alias,
who was a secret agent. “Hmm, good outfit.”
“I'm not driving,” Sydney whispered back, ignoring the fashion critique. She threw a nervous glance over her shoulder before detailing her plan. “Last weekend when I was
volunteering at the shelter, I asked one of the women how she used to go see her boyfriend in jail since he never allowed her to get a driver's license. She told me about this van that drives women and kids up to the correctional facility for about twenty dollars round-trip. Every Tuesday and Thursday, it picks them up at six-fifteen in the morning in front of the City Court and then drops them back off at three-thirty in the afternoon.”
“Okay⦔ Lauren started as she wiped the sleep out of her eyes. “But that's still all the way downtown. How are you getting there from here?”
“Well, that's where you come in,” Sydney responded. “I've already called for a cab to pick me up down the block in front of the Whittinham's house. When I get back, I'll just have the cab drop me off at school. That way, Keisha will see me riding home in the car service with you.”
“Okay, so basically you need me to keep Keisha from being suspicious of not seeing you this morning?”
“Pretty much,” Sydney replied, grateful it was making as much sense to Lauren as it did to her when she concocted the plan in the wee hours of the morning. “All you have to do is tell her that you think I mentioned Carmen picking me up early this morning for an English project we're working on. You know, just be vague and then change the subject or something. But to avoid Altimus being suspicious about the
alarm being off before he leaves for his morning run, I thought you could come down and reset the alarm after I leave.”
“I don't know, Syd,” Lauren hesitated. “I'm not saying it won't all work, but do you really think it's a good idea to try to sneak all the way up to the jail?” Lauren questioned with obvious apprehension that was becoming common in her once-confident devil-may-care voice. “What if Keisha still has that âfriend' of hers spying on us at school? She'll totally find out that you wereâ”
“Listen,” Sydney cut her off sharply. “I don't care. I cannot deal with Brookhaven right now. I mean, did you not see Dara wearing that tacky âSurprise Inside' T-shirt yesterday? Who does that?”
“Yeah, that was kinda messed up,” Lauren agreed sheepishly. She vividly recalled the gloating look on Dara's face as her former best friend walked down the hall in the too-tight pink T-shirt, rubbing her stomach as if she was due any minute.
“Okay, then,” Sydney said. “And I'm not even going to tell you how angry Jason is with me. Every time I try to explain what happened, he just rolls his eyes and walks away. Shoot, truth be told, it felt like the entire football team was giving me dirty looks.”
“Yuck, forget those wannabe thugs,” Lauren immediately defended her sister.
“I mean, it's just too much,” Sydney sighed. “And we both know there's no way Keisha is about to let me stay home from school. So instead of wasting the day at the mall or something, I'm going see Dad. I just, I really miss⦔ Sydney's voice cracked.
Lauren swung her legs over the side of the bed and put her hand on her sister's shoulder. “Don't get upset, Sydney. I get it. I got you. Just make sure you make it back to school on time for the pick-up. I'll tell the driver to pick us up at four-thirty instead of four o'clock. That should give you plenty of time.”
“Thanks, Lauren.” Sydney sniffled one last time as she stood up and offered her hand to Lauren. “You ready?”
Lauren accepted her sister's hand and stood up to join her. “Let's make it happen.”
“Keep the change,” Sydney offered over her shoulder as she hopped out of the red taxicab. Clutching her bronze-colored Gucci bag tightly under her arm, she hurried across the empty downtown street toward the line of women and children waiting to board a nondescript maroon-colored van with the words
B. BROWN'S TRANSPORTATION SERVICE
written across the side.
“Fold up your strollers before you get up here, and please watch your step, ladies,” a weary-looking older black man instructed as he collected the twenty-dollar fee and handed
each of the women a ticket before helping them board the van. Sydney cringed as an extremely pregnant girl, who looked no older than fifteen, struggled to squeeze her wide frame down the narrow aisle inside.
“Um, excuse me. Is this the van to the Central State Prison,” Sydney asked a frustrated-looking brown-skinned woman holding a crying baby boy on her hip and the hand of a sleepy-looking five-year-old girl with a head full of brightly colored barrettes.
The woman released the little girl's hand momentarily to pop a pacifier in the baby's mouth and turned to Sydney. Giving her simple but clearly expensive outfit a thorough once-over, the woman sneered, “No, it's the line to the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow,” before snatching the little girl's hand and stepping forward.
Sydney instinctively reared back.
Damn, did it call for all that?
she questioned mentally as she made a face at the girl.
“Just ignore her. She just mad âcause she been made this trip too many damn times already,” whispered a cute Mexican-looking girl with long black hair. “You're in the right place. This is the van.”
Sydney smiled gratefully at the girl. “Thanks, I thought I might've missed it.”
“Naw, we're always running about five to ten minutes late âcause of loading all the strollers and stuff,” she responded
between snaps of her gum. She, too, looked at Sydney's all-black ensemble up and down. “This your first time, huh?”
“Yeah, I'm going to see my father,” Sydney admitted shyly as she moved forward with the line.
“True, that's nice. Sometimes I go see my
papi
on Thursdays with my sister and little brothers. But Tuesday trips are strictly for my
papi chulo,
if you know what I mean,” she giggled.
Sydney smiled and nodded. “I'm Sydney,” she offered, feeling like they should probably exchange names since the two had already shared such personal details.
“My name is Consuela, but everybody calls me Connie,” the girl responded as she pulled out her twenty and turned to hand it to the man. “Morning, Bob, how you feeling?”
“One day at a time,” he responded automatically as he handed her a ticket and indicated that she could board the already full van.
“Sir, about how long is the drive,” Sydney asked politely as she handed over her crisp twenty-dollar bill.
Realizing he had a new passenger on board, Bob paused to look up at Sydney. “You got about four hours depending on the traffic. Normally, it ain't too bad,” he responded as he handed her a ticket. “We make one bathroom break each way, and any snacks you eat, you'd better clean up. This is your receipt and return ticket. Don't lose it or you're not getting back on the van to come home.”
“Understood,” Sydney replied as she tightened her grip on the small piece of paper. Bob finally gave her a head nod and Sydney stepped up into the van.
An unexpected bump in the road jolted Sydney awake. Momentarily disoriented, she looked confusedly at the van full of women and children surrounding her. “You was sleep a long time, ma,” Connie said as the distinctive sound of Shakira's voice blared from the white earbuds she pulled out of her ears. “No worries, we âbout to be there anyway.”
“Hmm,” was all Sydney could muster as she looked down at the square face of her Cartier watch. It was already after ten o'clock. She took a swig of the bottle of water she bought when they stopped at the gas station a couple of hours back to soothe her dry mouth and stared out the window as they hurtled down I-75. Everything looked so foreign; she'd never been out this deep in Georgia before.
“It's going to be a nice day,” Connie commented as she looked over Sydney's shoulder out the window. Her breath smelled like cinnamon candy.
“Yeah, looks that way,” Sydney replied, wishing she'd remembered to buy some gum. She turned to face her new acquaintance. “Do you have an extra piece of gum,” she asked as Connie popped another small bubble.
“Umm-hmm,” Connie replied as she started digging through her cheap-looking Louis Vuitton knockoff. “I always
carry at least two packs with me at all times. Chewing gum helps relax my nerves.”
“Thanks,” Sydney said gratefully as Connie finally handed her a small square of original-flavored Trident.
“De nada,” Connie replied as the van slowed down to exit on a sharp U-turn ramp.
Sydney's stomach tightened as she saw the small sign on the side of the road that read:
CENTRAL STATE PRISON/5 MILES.
She was both excited and extremely nervous to see Dice. While she really missed him, she also had a lot of unanswered questions about his connection to Jermaine's brother, Rodney, her newly discovered Uncle Larry, Keisha, and, of course, Altimus. She just hoped that their allotted fifty-five minutes of visitation time was enough to cover everything.
Connie pulled out a small leopard-print compact and applied her makeup. First, there was the heavy black eyeliner and mascara for her almond-shaped eyes. Then, she finished off with powder and a cherry-red gloss. Fluffing her hair out with her hands, she turned to Sydney. “It's better to do this now âcause, trust me, you don't want to use their bathrooms,” she warned ominously. Sydney absentmindedly ran a hand over her curly mane as she continued to watch Connie pull herself together. She looked at her watch; the Brookhaven student body would be moving to third period by
now. Sydney pulled out her iPhone and sent a text to her sister.
Just wanted to let you know I'm good/ Almost there.
Again the van started to slow down for a sharp curve; Sydney squeezed her iPhone, anxious. This time they were entering the prison parking lot. After circling the half-empty lot, the van finally pulled into a space away from the smatter of cars already parked there.
“Okay y'all,” Bob announced as soon as he threw the van's gear in park and it jerked to a complete stop. “We're pulling up outta here at eleven-fifteen with or without you. So don't be lagging behind or lose your ticket, âcause your behind will get left.” And with what he considered a fair warning administered, he jumped out to open the door and let the ladies loose.
Sydney followed Connie out of the van. As they started walking toward the huge iron gate where the first entrance was located, Sydney noticed that most of the women on the van had applied fresh coats of makeup. Buckling to the peer pressure, she grabbed her new favorite pink lip gloss, from Estee Lauder's Tender Lip Balm line, out of the side pocket of her purse and reapplied. Her iPhone vibrated; it was an incoming
message from Lauren. Be careful slumming with the convicts/I got you coveredâthey don't suspect a thing.
Cool, Sydney wrote back quickly, before turning her attention back to Connie.
“Okay, so once we pass this guy here, we'll be brought into the locker room,” stated Connie knowledgably. “You have to put all your stuff except for your driver's license into one of the lockers. After that, we'll sign in and go wait for them to meet us in the visitation room. Takes about fifteen minutes depending on the mood of the admitting officer. God forbid they're in a bad mood, âcause then we're screwed. They'll take forever filling out the paperwork and checking IDs. Which cuts down on our visiting time. So fingers crossed, today will be a good day and we can get admitted in about fifteen minutes or so.”
“Sounds simple⦔ Sydney replied, raising her two crossed fingers.
“Pretty much. As long as you have your ID and the person you're here to visit ain't got in no trouble and thrown in the hole over the last week, you're golden,” Connie replied with a smile and final crack of gum.