Cartier's hair had grown out of her perm and it was all natural. In the beginning, during her transition, she would let one of the girls straighten it with a hot comb to keep it straight. Now that it was in its natural state, Cartier would just wash and condition it, grease her scalp, and braid it into two neat plaits. Her naturally tight, wavy hair looked healthy. In her spare time, when she wasn't in her bunk or the library reading, she polished her fingernails and toenails to keep in touch with her feminine side. When she looked down at her nails, it was a message to not give up, that one day soon prison would be something in her past and she would be resuming a normal life.
As much as it pained her, this was Cartier's favorite moment in prisonbeing led from the back, past the heavy cement doors, to the visiting room. It always brought instant joy to her heart. And as always, the first thing she would do when those doors to the visiting room opened was look for the familiar faces that put a smile on her face.
"Cartier!" the small voice shouted. Cartier followed the voice and saw Prada in her mother's arms. She walked toward the table with the same huge smile on her face.
"Girl, I know you didn't just be-bop to this table?" Trina asked.
"Ma, whatcha talking about?" Cartier said, definitely not in the mood for Trina's tripping.
"I hope you're not letting these girls turn you out in here," Trina commented.
Cartier nodded her head toward Prada and said, "Ma, watch your mouth."
"She don't know what we talking about," Trina assured Cartier. "Now answer my question, you in here playing house with these other girls?"
Cartier's face turned red from embarrassment and insult. The last thing on her mind was allowing some dyke chick to eat her pussy. The thought was repulsive. People had it so mixed up about what goes on behind bars. There were enough gay and lesbian chicks in here for you not to get jumped and raped.
"Ma, since when you know me to want to go the other way?" Cartier asked.
"Not no child of mine ... but you need to keep your femininity in here. Put a little switch in your hips when you walking. Don't let this place steal that from you"
Cartier held up her hands to show her mother her painted fingers. "You and I are on the same page."
"Good," Trina said and smiled.
Cartier looked around again searching for Monya. When she initially came out, she figured Monya was in the bathroom. Trina noticed what she was doing.
"Monya ain't come with us," Trina added.
Cartier didn't sweat it. Sure she was disappointed, but she was used to it now. This was the third month in a row Monya hadn't come to see her. "Really? What reason did she give this time?"
"She stopped giving reasons," Trina said. "She just said she didn't feel like coming."
"Well, what is Janet saying?" Cartier asked.
"Janet ain't saying too much. She said she tried talking to Monya, but her daughter don't listen to her no more. Monya think she grown and can't nobody tell her shit-"
"Ma, watch your mouth!" Cartier interrupted.
Trina rolled her eyes. She always cursed around Cartier and didn't have anyone tell her she couldn't. Now all Cartier did was repeatedly scold her on how she was raising Prada. Trina wanted to tell Cartier that Prada was her child and she could raise her any way she wanted. If that meant cursing like a sailor, then so be it. But she didn't want to upset Cartier since she was locked down.
"You right, my bad," Trina apologized. "But if it weren't for Janet, I would catch Monya and beat her little bony ass down." Trina paused for a second, having used profanity yet again and then she continued. "She walking around the neighborhood like she some big time dealer."
Cartier moved closer to her mother to fully hear what she was saying. Suddenly, her interest was piqued.
"Monya is hugging the block?" Cartier asked inquisitively. After all we've been through? I mean, after all I'm going through?"
"I know. And it ain't just her. She got the members of the Cartel back together again and from what I hear, they're doing pretty well for themselves. I hear that Monya is now the head of the Cartel. They're all riding dirty up and down I-95 from what I'm told. They've upgraded from selling hand-tohand. I hear they're moving keys."
Cartier shook her head. She was disappointed with the news.
Trina continued. "Well, all them are back slinging except Bam. She's the only one who's doing the right thing. I guess that boy knocked some sense into her head, because she's working a part-time job at the public library and also went back to high school to get her diploma. She said she's going to walk down the aisle this June."
Cartier was happy about the news regarding Bam, but she and Bam weren't best friends. They weren't as close as she and Monya. Cartier figured she should have heard the news about Monya from Monya. Although it wasn't Monya's idea for her to cop out to the crime, the fact of the matter was she did. And if it wasn't for Cartier, Monya wouldn't have a life to throw away. She'd be sitting in jail counting down the days until her release instead of vice-versa.
"That's all good about Bam," Cartier half-heartedly replied.
"I ran into her two weeks ago and she gave me her information to put on your visiting list. I told her you would like that very much."
"Yeah, you did right," Cartier faintly replied. "It would be nice to see her again.... again.... "
Cartier returned to her cell feeling down. So many things went through her mind. She was fearful for her scary friend and wondered how Monya would handle being head of the Cartel. What if someone like a Donnie threatened the Cartel again? What would Monya do? Would she be able to handle those type of situations? Cartier knew she had to do something. She picked up a pen and paper and began to write in hopes of getting answers.
Whaddup Monya,
Long time no talk. I would be lying if I said I didn't miss you. I do. I hear you got a lot going on out there and I'm concerned. Come holler atya girl.
Friends forever,
Cartier
Cartier dropped her letter into the prison's mailbox and waited. She continued to wait for a reply that never came. After six months, she'd given up writing letters to Monya or expecting her to ever visit again.
They say the only constant in prison is time. For some, time travels fast. For others, it moves at the speed of a snail. For Cartier, she took it as it came. One year turned into three and when she thought she only had six months left, those months came and went. She had been in prison for five years now and was meeting the parole board for the second year in a row.
Over the past several years, she and Bam had become the best of friends. Miraculously, Bam was a new person. She went through almost three years of rehabilitation, and only had minor scratches from the beat-down from Donnie. Her speech and writing skills had improved tremendously. She wrote Cartier all the time trying to keep her spirits up.
Things had changed for Cartier. She and Jason finally developed a relationship, although she was in prison. He visited her twice per week, kept money in her commissary account, and kept the packages flowing. If she needed anything, he took care of it. Additionally, he helped out Trina and Prada, and declared to Cartier that he would always be there for them. Ryan was a thing of her past. He'd left Cartier the first night she got locked up and never came back around. Cartier had long ago stopped asking about his whereabouts. She didn't want to hate Ryan for doing her dirty, but she certainly didn't have any love for him.
When she met the parole board again, Jason, Trina, and Bam were right there for her. When the board once again denied her, she didn't understand. She began to wonder if the state would make her do the full fifteen years for killing Donnie. She was a model inmate. She had never been in trouble or even disciplined. She had managed to get her associate's degree and the prison guards were always complimenting her. She just didn't get it. She assumed she would be home, living a normal life three years ago. This letter read the same as the others, they felt she wasn't rehabilitated. As much as she tried to keep her head up, s
he felt the bottom was dropping out from beneath her.
"Keep your head up, baby girl," Jason said as he wiped her tears away in the visiting room.
"I hate to cry, but all I want to do is come home to you," Cartier stated.
Jason hated seeing Cartier like this and he felt especially bad today since he didn't have good news.
_ "Yo, baby," he began. "I went by your moms' crib last night and had to pound a nigga's head in."
"What? Who?" Cartier was distraught enough and couldn't believe this shit.
"Some young nigga too!" Jason began explaining. "As I'm walking up the stairs, all I hear is yelling and screaming. I knock on the door and it's taking like forever for Trina to open it. When she comes to the door, Prada is in the background screaming her lungs out and your mom's face is all fucked up. I look up and this little young nigga is trying to push past me trying to get through. I didn't even ask any questions before I hit that nigga with a twopiece combination. One hard left to the jaw and a quick right in the rib cage."
Jason demonstrated the hand and facial movements to Cartier. He was so animated. That was one thing Cartier loved about him, his protective nature.
He continued, "So I'm pounding on this dude and Trina is cheering me on. She's like, `Yeah, fuck his punk ass up!' After I stomp him out and drag him out the building, I go by there today to see if she wants to come up here with me and guess who's sitting in there with his feet up on the coffee table? He gave me a look like he'd won some sort of victory. I started to pound on that nigga again, but I just let him have his moment"
Cartier shook her head. "I know exactly who you talking about. His name is Reggie and he's only three years older than me. When I was little, he always tried to get with me and now he's sleeping with my moms. Like how embarrassing."
"Yeah, that's wack. I told Trina she on her own from here on out. I can't catch a case behind that bullshit"
"You right. Both of us can't be locked down. Besides, you're my rock. I don't know what I'd do without you."
Jason and Cartier looked deeply into each other's eyes. Softly, he rubbed her hands as they rested in his. As nerves began to take over, he whispered, "I've been thinking .. "
"Thinking what?" Cartier asked.
"About you and me"
Cartier closed her eyes. She kept having a reoccurring dream that Jason would also stop visiting her. That he too would give up on her.
"Say it! Spit it out. I can handle it," Cartier said and snatched her hands from his.
"What are you getting upset about?"Jason asked, with shock and surprise on his face.
"I'm not upset," Cartier said with tears forming in her eyes.
"Then give me back your hands," Jason commanded.
Reluctantly, Cartier placed both hands back into Jason's.
"I was thinking that we should get married," he said matter-of-factly. Cartier was now the one to be surprised and shocked. She didn't know what to say. This was the last thing she was expecting. Her heart filled with insurmountable emotions. The proposal was unsuspecting like an avalanche.
"You really wanna marry me?"
"I just asked you, didn't I? I didn't hear you asking me to marry you?"
Cartier laughed, "So when I get out we're-"
"Nah, baby, I don't want to wait until you get out. Let's do it now."
In here?"
"Why are you making this difficult?" Jason facetiously complained. "You're fucking up my moment. I practiced this proposal all morning. I thought I'd ask you and you'd say, `Of course I'll marry you. I love you. Why wouldn't I want to have your last name?'" Jason tried to emulate her voice to no avail.
"Baby, of course I'll marry you!" Cartier said excitedly. "You mean the world to me. I couldn't do this without you. I want to be your wife, but I don't want to be selfish. What if I have to do the full fifteen?"
"Then as your husband, we doing fifteen."
"I love you.
"I know you do."
"No, I really love you."
"And I said, I know."
They kissed briefly before the guard came over and told them they had to stop.
Jason continued, "You know we've been together for almost five years now and I tell you everything 'cause you my best friend, but I'm not the most faithful nigga around. You know I got needs and I started fucking with this chick from Albany-"
"Sabrina," Cartier surprised him. "Yeah, I know."
"How you hear about her? I thought I kept that on the low-low."
"You know ain't shit done in the dark"
"OK, true. But check it. I started to catch feelings for her-"
"Why are you telling me this? Do you think I want to hear that my man is loving another bitch?"
"Cartier, let me finish. Sabrina was doing everything in her power to make a nigga fall in love. I told her from the jump, like I tell all those bitches, that you my girl and when you come home that it's a wrap. And that bitch said something that made sense. She said that until I put a ring on your finger, then I won't know for sure who I'm gonna end up with."
Cartier listened intently, but internally, she wanted to bash all of Sabrina's teeth out her mouth. Sabrina was a pretty, educated girl from the Albany projects. She was a good girl who went to school every day and had enrolled in college with aspirations of becoming a lawyer. Cartier knew her whole resume. Cartier wouldn't say Sabrina was the sole reason she went to school to better herself, but at times when she wanted to give up, Sabrina fucking her man was the reason she forged ahead.
"So what are you saying?" Cartier asked.
"I'm saying I want to get off the market, because these chicks out here are like vultures, and since I know that it's you and only you that I love, I wanna make it official. Just say yes and make me the happiest man on this earth."
Cartier was always fulfilled when she left her visits with Jason. She was one of the very few women who still got visits from their boyfriends. With most inmates, the visits usually ceased within the first month or two of their incarceration. Jason rode with Cartier for years, and now he wanted to make it official. She shared with him that she had begun to dream of their marriage not long after she was locked up. What she loved most was that she and Jason could talk and tell each other everything.
She was on cloud nine. She was hyped. she went back to her cell and wrote out three letters: to her mother, Monya, and a love letter to Jason.
Cartier wore an all-white, silk wedding dress. Jason had on a black tuxedo. In attendance was Trina, Prada, Wonderful, Jason's best man, and Bam, who served as maid of honor. It hurt Cartier that Monya didn't attend, but she didn't let her absence temper the mood. As the young couple stood before the prison's justice of the peace and said their vows, the small room erupted into laughter and tears.
The prison allowed the family to bring a small portion of food and a wedding cake. They all sat around talking about the couple's future. Finally, Cartier and Jason sat in a small, private corner and began discussing their wedding night.
"It's going to take the prison at least three months to approve our trailer visits," Cartier began.
"I know. I can't wait for that-"
"You better wait! We're married now, so even though I'm in here you can't be out in those streets behaving like you're single."
"You don't have to tell me that. I took an oath before God to love and cherish you. Cartier, I would never do anything to hurt you, let alone break our vows."
Jason stared deeply into his bride's eyes and realized he'd done it. All his life he wanted Cartier and now she was his forever. He didn't plan on ever messing that up.
fter Cartier and Jason went through a vigorous screening process to be allowed conjugal visits, which included being tested for any sexually transmitted diseases, the date was finally set for their first visit. The prison supplied the tissue, soap, sheets, pillows, towels, and condoms, and Jason bought the food and sexy lingerie for Cartier.
She couldn't believe how nervous she was. Of course
, she wasn't a virgin and had sex on numerous occasions with different guys, but she and her husband had never been intimate. The immature side of her wondered what would happen if she didn't perform well. Will he go back out into the streets and sleep with other women to satisfy his desires?
The week prior to their conjugal visit, after each shower, Cartier would apply lotion to her body at least seven or eight times a day. She wanted her skin to be baby soft when he traced his fingers up and down her body. She also groomed herself as best as she could by trimming her pubic hair as low as possible, without being bald. She knew the new craze for women were to have no or less pubic hair in order to give the man easy access when eating their pussy.
She smiled to herself. Does Jason eat pussy? It was the first of many thoughts that jumped in and out of her head. She thought about what positions he might like as well as positions she used to like. And she couldn't remember the last time she sucked a dick. She thought so much her head started to hurt.
The prison bus took her to the secluded, yet heavily guarded trailer park located on the prison grounds. Her trailer was number eight. She arrived at seven on a Friday and Jason arrived a couple of hours later. When he saw her, they quickly embraced.
"You smell so good," Cartier commented. He looked so handsome, clean and crisp. She could tell that he'd gotten a fresh haircut and was wearing new clothes, but she also detected nervousness. Or was that eagerness? She couldn't quite put her finger on it.
Jason responded by giving her a deep, sensual kiss. Immediately, his dick grew hard as he pressed his pelvis into her hypersensitive flesh. His hands began to explore her shapely body, kneading his fingers into her fleshy buttocks, his favorite asset on Cartier.
"Take off your clothes," he breathed, in a throaty whisper.
"No.. " Cartier replied, coyly. "Not yet. We gotta wait"
"I've waited all my life for this. I don't want to wait a moment longer."
Cartier wanted to do the traditional romantic, girly thing. She had it all worked out in her mind. She would cook for him first, set the table, and they'd eat and tell each other how much they loved one another. Then they would take a shower together and wash each other off. After the shower, she would put on something sexy and dance for her man, her husband, and finally, they would make passionate love.
Cartier Cartel Page 12
