The 'N' Word, Book 1

by Tiana Laveen

  “How can I make something stop that I never asked for to start with?” Aaron cocked his head to the side. A small part of him relished seeing the man all bent out of shape. Served him right.

  “I’m sure you have your ways, Aaron… I’m sure you have your ways. Now get the hell out of my office!” The big bastard pointed to the door. Soon, Aaron was back on his shackled feet, minutes after being yanked out of his cell like a damn yo-yo and brought to Huckleberry’s office. As the two armed guards walked him back to his pen, his brain danced with confusion and rained with the freshly planted seeds of anger…

  My suspicions are true, but I don’t know what the fuck he is talking about… Something is going on, and it ain’t nowhere near good.

  His feet pounded the ground and soon, the iron door was opened, showcasing the starkness inside, filled with the strong scent of the forlorn, something akin to death. He slid inside like the shadow that he was, then skulked against the cinder brick wall, trying desperately to distinguish the nonsense from truth, and the truth from fiction. And then, it hit him.

  Somebody is giving orders… and it isn’t me…

  …But who the hell could it be?!

  MIA STOOD IN the prison mailroom, which was adjoined to the office of the warden, in a state of self-imposed panic. Her underarms began to itch as her nervousness swelled right beneath the epidermal surface. She stood amongst the sounds of hefty, antiquated copy machines that had long outlived their heyday. Nevertheless, the old things roared and coughed out warm, off-white documents with neatly typed words in shades of slate gray across rectangular paper bodies, waiting to be handled, read, and spread across desks. Personnel walked about with beverages in their hand and piles of mustard-colored envelopes. One side of the room was filled with specially designated plastic, beige bins, ‘Holman’ stamped across them in big, black, block letters. One bin in particular caught her interest. It read, ‘SORTED.’ And then she saw a similar one, and another after that.

  That’s where I’ll start dropping my letters, so they can’t be read by security… They’ll think they’ve already been screened. I can’t believe I’m doin’ this!

  She nervously ran her fingers along the back of her neck, bunching her hair in the process.

  Tangled mess…

  Looking about the place for an extra second or two, she approached the main desk in the center of the space, the one where Nancy, one of the assistant administrators to Warden Huckleberry, was perched.

  “Hi Nancy.” Mia’s lashes batted gently as she leaned her hip against the edge of the desk and crossed her ankles. Getting comfy, she prepared to dish out her well-rehearsed spiel. “How are you doing?”

  “Hi Mia, I’m doin’ just fine, baby!” The smooth, dark complexioned woman with copper undertones along her cheeks was a sight to behold. The middle-aged lady sat straight in her seat, her unbelievable gorgeous skin glowing beautifully under the florescent lights. Nancy wore deep burgundy lipstick that framed a flawless, snow-white smile and caused one to pause at her exquisite beauty. She was the epitome of ‘black don’t crack’, and ‘the blacker the berry the sweeter the juice’, and this made her intentions doubly hard to implement, because she looked so much like Grandma, who Mia adored, God rest her beautiful soul.

  “And how are you?” Nancy questioned, cutting through the silence with her low voice.

  “I’m doin’ well, can’t complain.”

  Nancy nodded appreciatively as she placed some papers neatly in a wire basket, edging them just so with her hands, then turned back towards her computer. With a sleight of hand, she brushed through her short, relaxed bob, revealing a few strands of silver running along her wispy sideburns.

  Just jump right on in! You’re here now, no sense in stallin’!

  “I wanted to know if I could get a couple of inmates’ schedules? You see, I have some new students coming in and wanted to figure out how to get everyone penciled in.”

  Mia’s breath doubled up then hitched. She didn’t dare exhale as she rode that lie right into the ground. Looking down at the woman, she stood there dealing out her tall tale, feeling awful, rotten like a pitcher of cow milk curdling up in the hot sun. She pushed on though, determined to give that curiosity of hers a good, old fashioned scratch, cure the deep rooted itch.

  For the man had sent another letter, and that one damn near did her in… Aaron Pike sure had a way with words and worst yet, he pulled at her heartstrings. Above all, she knew deep within her heart that every word he’d written was true.

  Nancy regarded her with an arched brow. More than looked at her, she studied her…read her…

  I’m just being silly! She doesn’t know anything. I come in here all the time! This isn’t my first time walkin’ in here asking for this sort of thing!

  But Nancy just kept on looking at her, as if she were ‘in on it’, like some crazy conspiracy was going on, a candid camera style set-up of sorts.

  There you go being silly again.

  What a damn shame she had to lie to sweet, little Nancy, but what was a nosy girl like her to do?

  “Sure,” the woman finally uttered, as if coming to some hidden conclusion, then giving her seal of approval. “Do you have their names?”

  Mia immediately rattled off the info, even added in the second one to cloak her pre-planned deception, making the trickery a bit more airtight and easy going down. “Yes, Stephen Bryson and Aaron Pike.” She stood a bit straighter and adjusted the strap of her purse across her shoulder, forcing herself to look serious, like nothing was going on in the least.

  After a few moments, Nancy picked up her glasses from near her stack of visitor forms and slid them on her face, her forehead etched with a few lines of discernment.

  “Okay, now.” She pointed at the screen with a shiny French manicured nail. “I have them both up. You want me to print it out or just tell you?” she asked Mia as she looked at her from over her glasses, her lips slightly ajar.

  “Print it out please. I’ve been running a million miles a minute. I’d forget my own name on a day like today if it weren’t on my nametag.”

  Nancy gave a hearty chuckle paired with a nod of complete understanding.

  Good… she’s not suspicious.

  The woman rose from her seat and walked on black sneakers to the printer, a few steps away. As she moved, her long, brown skirt swung behind her like the ends of a Superman cape. The damn printer worked slower than a blind, crippled turtle on disability trying to go uphill with a walker during an ice storm, which only added to Mia’s angst. The inkjet had her stomach in knots as it slowly churned out the papers at the speed of paint drying.

  Damn it!

  “Uhhhh huhhhh,” the woman grunted as she pushed her glasses farther up the bridge of her nose and retook her seat. “Did you hear about that riot, chile?”

  “No, what happened?” Mia asked, truly interested and welcoming the distraction during such a nerve-racking time.

  “Girl.” Nancy looked both ways as if watching for incoming traffic, then leaned forward just so. “These damn neo-natal Nazis, potato skinheads, white finalists, nationalists, whatever the hell they up in here callin’ themselves, they got to hoopin’ and hollerin’ and whooped up on ol’ Leon… tore his ass up like he’d fallen into an alligator pit at the damn zoo.”

  “What?! Oh my God, what happened?” Mia leaned a bit forward, mentally chewing on the gossip like a wad of sugary gum.

  Nancy grimaced, rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her breasts.

  “Girl, somebody beat the headlights, nightlights, flashlights, and daylight savings time clean outta him! He looked like an overcooked Mardi Gras King cake! Blue and green and yellow, too! Wasn’t nothin’ sweet about it though… had a black eye that made him look like he was flirtin’ all day… winkin’ at all the ladies 24-7, swollen shut like a shy clam.”

  “Oh no! That is just awful, Nancy. Some of these guys need their behinds locked away and the key tossed in the river! Poor Leon. Just cr
azy, Nancy… beatin’ on a guard like that.” Mia’s anxiety revved up again as the damn copier slowed down to a crawl and an annoying light began to flash on the damned thing, letting her know without a shadow of a doubt that whatever trouble she felt was about to double and triple like the size of Leon’s lip.

  “Outta ink again… hold on,” Nancy said in almost a whisper as she retrieved two cartridges from her desk drawer, one black and one tri-color.

  Oh damn it… come on!

  The woman took her sweet time tearing the damn things open, making Mia all the more jumpy.

  “Yeah, honey.” She tossed the thick, shiny wrapper into a small, metal trashcan then worked the other one open between her teeth. “Leon will be okay but he tried to be tough.” She spit the bit of torn wrapper onto the floor, “Tried to be a hero when he was tha only damn one down there at the time. Simon was there, but he was like a hundred feet away… You can do a lot of damage with that sort of advantage. It was like ten against one.

  “You can’t get funny wit’ them white boys when they’re all huddled up like that, Mia.” She frowned and shook her finger as if delivering the gospel, trying to save souls. “Them boys sit around plottin’ and schemin’ all day. They ain’t got nothin’ better else to do and here come Leon’s ass, talkin’ shit with no backup, tryna be cute. I don’t know where some of these guys get off thinkin’ they are gonna punk some of these inmates … They know good ’nd well that many of these sons of guns are insane! Leon of all people knew better. He know they are crazier than Kanye West at a Beck concert, ’specially them white boys, but he just had to buy his own ticket and check it out for himself! Well, he got a backstage pass and they made sure he got the full experience!”

  Mia stifled a belly born laugh, her fretfulness now dancing with hilarity. Then, she checked herself and worked hard to draw a serious expression, at least to show she had a damn heart.

  “So this is why I haven’t seen him lately. Is he at work today or still recovering?”

  “Nah, he ain’t here. I doubt you’ll see him any time soon. Leon got knocked into the middle of next week, and then the week after that, too. Ask him what day it is, he will always tell you, ‘Wednesday’ and give you your horoscope forecast fourteen days in advance.”

  “Nancy!” Mia burst out laughing. “You’re not right!”

  “Oh I’m right, alright… Capricorns supposed to have a good week.” She chuckled, causing Mia to the do the same. “Anyway, Leon knew better than that shit. He wanted to be a champion and got to see the future thanks to them. Those crazy mofos in here don’t play. Let me tell you how it went down, sista!” The woman rolled her eyes dramatically as she really got into the core of the tale.

  Mia glanced back at the printer, wishing…hoping…

  “He got in one of the big one’s faces, told him to settle down, right? He settled down right on his ass! They are all they got – in a predominantly black prison. Ain’t nobody got time for that. Before he knew it, he was down in the infirmary gettin’ stitched up faster than a synthetic wig made in China.”

  “Nancy, I can’t take it!” Mia covered her mouth as the laughter rolled within the pit of her gut.

  Nancy smiled delicately and placed the new cartridges in the printer, the tip of her tongue twisting out the side of her mouth as if she were doing major surgery. Mia looked around her and waited for the printing to resume. After a while, the reports were done and Nancy handed the papers to her.

  “Now, Stephen here has an appeal scheduled soon. He’ll be released in the next few months if it is ruled in his favor it says here, but Aaron just left segregation.” Nancy’s face suddenly wrinkled with confusion. “He is still not allowed to be with general population… He is in the death wing, but he ain’t on death row. Matter of fact, according to this, he only had a year sentence.” Nancy shrugged. “Hmmm, that’s strange that they would take him out of seg. But to put him there…my guess is he is considered a threat.”

  Segregation? Threat? But the charge was assault and battery… what the hell did he do???

  “Says here he has some session in the mornings, then recreation in the afternoons after lunch every other day now. I hope you can help them. Heard you are doing a great job, Mia.” The woman retook her seat, making Mia self-conscious again at the lies she’d told.

  “Yes… uh, I hope so to.” She immediately turned her back and flipped through Aaron’s weekly schedule, taking note that he saw Dr. Owen in the mornings. And sure enough, just as reported, he played basketball in the afternoons. Mia turned towards the clock hanging on the wall and broke into a devilish grin.

  Ahhh… he’ll be out there in the next twenty minutes….

  “Thank you, Nancy,” she stated as she started to walk away. “I appreciate it.”

  “No problem! Bring me in one of your delicious chocolate fudge cakes soon. My birthday is next week, and the week after that, too!” the lady called out.

  “I thought you were a Capricorn? It’s the summertime, Nancy!” Mia joked.

  “I’m all twelve signs baby, if that’ll mean I get some cake!”

  “Consider it done!” Mia threw her a wink over her shoulder and disappeared out the door…

  THE SCENT OF pending rain hung in the air, promising to cry down on Holman at any given moment. Maybe this time it could wash away soiled sins and the caked-on filth that contaminated the place, dumping on it like bird shit in an open parking lot full of targets.

  Speaking of birds, the damn things had stopped chirping and flying about some minutes prior, but he was determined to have his time outside, even for just a moment. Today he was allowed to play with a couple of guys he knew. It was a rare privilege, but he didn’t dare question the situation, at least not aloud. The warden must have wanted to give him the opportunity to right a wrong, to take the necessary steps to stop the senseless aggressions against staff and other inmates by his brethren. Pockets of tiny outbreaks had been happening ever since he’d stepped foot back into the place, and it had caused an entire lockdown the previous day. Word travelled fast, and though he didn’t utter his own private thoughts regarding it to a single soul, something was up – something he wasn’t privy to but was determined to get to the bottom of.

  “Aaron!” Danny called out, a big smile on his pocked face, exposing a crooked front tooth. “Brother!” He grabbed him in his arms, bear-hugging him.

  Aaron loosely patted his back in response, then took a leisurely step back.

  “Hey, Danny. Look.” He sucked his teeth and glanced over his shoulder before redirecting his gaze to the man. “We don’t have much time. I have a few questions I want to run past you.”

  “Aaron!” one of the guards called out. “Either play ball or call it a day!”

  He exhaled deeply and swallowed his frustration. Grabbing the orange ball from the ground, he dribbled the damn thing a few times, warming up. Danny kept his eye on him, letting him know in his own special way that he was all ears. Just then, two other men joined the game. He gave them a chin check, recognizing them as his own as well. They nodded back, and one bowed in reverence.

  Aaron dribbled the ball around Danny. “I need you to tell me what is going on,” he began. “Fights, even a stabbing. I’ve been called into Huckleberry’s office twice now about this shit. Who is giving the orders?”

  “It’s for you… in protest,” Danny explained, as if Aaron surely should have known.

  “Okay, yeah, I get that, but who is doing it?”

  Danny looked at him curiously. “I don’t know, but I thought… I thought you gave the OK on it.”

  Aaron paused for a split second, then began again, moving the ball back and forth, dribbling it hard as hell against the concrete as he sorted his thoughts, guarded his words, and pieced together a decent response to his own liking.

  Just then, in the near distance, rounded hips swayed to an unheard beat…

  A woman approached the gated court, tearing him away from the crucial matter at hand.
r />   Jesus…

  She stood on the outside looking in, like a beautiful bird in a sparkling brass cage… Well, in actuality, she was free; he was the caged one… But… he looked a bit closer at her, stealing wrongful glances at the hummingbird…

  Long.

  Lovely.

  Glances.

  She stood approximately 5”7, light caramel skin with a healthy, pinkish hue about her prominent cheekbones. Long, wavy, lustrous black hair with a slight kink in the texture ended well beyond her shoulders. Her shapely legs fit snugly into a conservative navy blue skirt, paired with a cream-colored button down shirt on which hung a chain with a pendant he couldn’t quite make out the shape of. Arms crossed, the lady gripped her elbows nervously as if uncomfortable.

  She looks out of place… too beautiful to be in a place like this…

  Beautiful? What the fuck is wrong with me? I’m losing it… Must’ve been some shit the faggot doctor did to me…

  “Mrs. Armstrong!” the guard called out. “Is there something you need, ma’am?” The obvious irritation in the man’s voice was unmistakable.

  The man approached her and she responded, but he couldn’t make out what she was saying. It unnerved him so, and then, he realized he’d been staring so long that the damn game stopped…

  “Who is that?” he asked, standing a bit straighter, trying his damnedest to play the shit off, act as if it was simply a basic inquiry. He was certain his complexion took on a slightly reddish tinge, for he realized immediately what had happened.

  She’s a fucking nigger.

  A piss colored one, but definitely still a goddamn nigger…

  And he found her quite attractive… sexy…

  Fuckable.

  His damn gut churned with newly formed anxiety.

  …It’s just because it’s been a while, no biggie. Haven’t had sex in so long, every damn woman around here is startin’ to look good is all… It’s cool; nothing to worry about…

  He tucked the ball under his arm and cracked his knuckles.