Crazy In Love

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Crazy In Love Page 3

by Yoshe


  “Well, okay, CO, since you put it like that.”

  “So, Yadi, are we goin’ to, Roosevelt Field? I need to pick up a few things for this weekend getaway,” Vanita asked.

  Yadi cut her friend off. “Look, Vanita, I’m just gonna pick up Jada and head on home.”

  “But I thought you said that you was going with me to Roosevelt Field? Now all of a sudden, you’re goin’ home?” she asked.

  Yadi held her down. “I gotta pick up Jada from her school because Devin—”

  Vanita put her hand on her forehead. “Yadi, when are you gonna let that lame-ass dude do what he’s supposed to do as a father? Damn, Jada is his child too! You can’t even enjoy yourself because you always gotta worry about his dumb ass messin’ up!” she said.

  Yadi sighed. She knew that Vanita was right. Yadi also knew that it was time to leave Devin alone. The fear of being alone and without a man ravaged her body like the bubonic plague.

  Vanita rolled her eyes at her friend and walked toward the locker room. Vanita was sick of Yadi making excuses for Devin.

  Sean shook his head as he watched Yadi walk briskly in order to catch up to the disgusted Vanita.

  Roll call had just been dismissed and officers were everywhere. Vanita walked through the sea of blue, with Yadi on her heels. When Vanita finally arrived in the locker room, she walked directly to the aisle where her locker was located. Yadi walked into the aisle behind her to try to explain.

  “Nita, I know you’re mad at me for not wantin’ to go with you, but—” Yadi began.

  Vanita snatched the locker door open and looked at her gorgeous friend. “Yadi, you don’t have to explain anything to me from this point on. I’m tired of askin’ you when are you goin’ to stop allowin’ yourself to go through these trials and tribulations,” Vanita said without giving Yadi any eye contact.

  “What are you talkin’ about, Nita? I said I had to pick up Jada and I just didn’t want to drag her with us bein’ that Devin wasn’t able to pick her up.”

  “You’re the one always talkin’ about how Devin doesn’t make an effort to be a family. He has two other daughters by two different women, the child support drama and blah, blah, blah, but you don’t even love yourself enough to leave him. It’s called emotional abuse, Yadi. It’s only a matter of time before he gets physically abusive.”

  Yadi chuckled nervously. “Well, it’s been seven years and he hasn’t hit me yet, so I don’t see us goin’ through all of that. He knows better than to hit me.”

  “So, if you’re so tough, Yadi, why do you have to stick around and wait for the situation to get to that point? Why would you want to wait until he puts his hands on you to leave? Okay, so you’ll fight back, sweetie, Devin is a man. There is no way that you can fight him without him tryin’ to half kill you first.”

  Vanita sighed as she changed out of her uniform and into her street clothes. She knew that all of her points had fallen on deaf ears.

  “Look, I’m goin’ to the mall by myself. You can go home with your slavemaster.”

  Yadi had a look of defeat on her face. She didn’t want to lose her friendship over her fixation with having a man in her life.

  “That was fucked up, Nita! I hope you know that you hurt my feelings!” Yadi exclaimed as she walked away.

  Vanita shrugged her shoulders. “Well, that doesn’t matter. You should be used to gettin’ your feelings hurt, Yadira!” Nita shouted.

  Vanita’s words stung Yadi, but she knew that everything that her friend had said to her was the truth.

  Chapter 5

  The windows facing the still waters surrounding Rikers Island were anything but serene. Across the polluted water was freedom, something that almost everyone in there yearned for but could only dream about having once again.

  Anyone familiar with the three to eleven shift on Rikers Island knew what time it was. This was the tour that inmates were off the hook. The inmates residing in the area were locked in for the 3 to 11 P.M. count. Most duty posts were closed at approximately 6 P.M. Working inmates were returned to their respective housing areas before the 7 P.M. count.

  After the institutional search, Sean walked into Five North at 3:40 P.M. and relieved the seven to three officer. The young male officer seemed more than happy to be going home. Shortly after assuming the post, Sean toured the top and bottom tiers, taking a count of the inmates presently in the housing area.

  “Um, you have forty-five inmates in here, right?” Sean asked the CO that he was relieving.

  “Yeah, it’s forty-five in here now and I got two out to the clinic, two’s workin’ in the clothesbox and one should be comin’ from the law library after the count. Total count is fifty.”

  Sean signed the count slip and handed it to the officer. He gave Sean a pound, relinquished his equipment, and happily walked out of the housing area.

  Sean missed working his old shift in his former housing area. Half of Five North consisted of new inmates. After working in the visit area for the past six months, he was not surprised that most of the inmates who were there when he was steady had been moved to other facilities.

  Sean looked around at the nasty-looking salmon color that was painted on the walls, an effortless attempt by the Department of Correction to try to “soothe” the notorious criminals locked up inside of Five North. The area reeked of mildew and Sean casually removed incense from his carry bag and lit it up

  When the inmates had the opportunity to come out of their locked cells, a few gathered around the nineteen inch color television, watching The Maury Show. Simultaneously, they began shouting out, “You are not the father,” at the disgruntled guests on the show. Other men did their daily calisthenics by pulling up on the staircase rails. Some inmates talked on the phone to their loved ones.

  Many COs did not like working in Five North because they thought that the inmates housed there were knuckleheads. Sean had no problem being on the post and the Five North inmates respected him. Jail was jail to him and Five North was no exception.

  After completing his paperwork, Sean stood up from his chair and stretched. He walked around the housing area, chatting with a few of the inmates here and there about some of the mishaps that occurred throughout the facility.

  While conversing, Sean noticed Shamari Wallace sitting at a table playing cards with a few of the older inmates. He seemed very talkative and appeared to be eager to fit in. Sean knew that Shamari wasn’t built for jail and he was wearing it like an old shirt. Shamari could play the extra tough role with Sean if he wanted to, but his fear was so transparent that it was almost comical for Sean to watch him.

  “What’s up, Born?” Sean said, greeting a man with a bald head and an inviting smile. No stranger to incarceration, Born had been back and forth to prison since adolescence and Five North in particular was his second home.

  Born gave Sean a pound. “What’s up, Dee?” Born replied. “Surprised to see you up here, man.”

  Sean shook his head. “Yeah, I’m tryin’ to make me extra money. Plus I gotta keep an eye on somebody in here for a friend of mine.”

  Born frowned. “Who? Maybe I can help you out.”

  Sean nodded his head in Shamari’s direction. “I’m talkin’ about Shorty Wop over there. You know anything about him?”

  Born was commonly referred to as the “ghetto almanac.” He knew dates, names, places of any information about the hood and its residents. He looked at Shamari through his expensive Gucci spectacles, while rubbing his bald head.

  “Oh, yeah, I was just tellin’ my man about this dude. I knew Shorty’s pops.”

  Sean was curious. “Word? You knew his pops? His father is dead, huh?”

  “His pop’s name was Maleek. He was a get money nigga from East New York; a real stand-up dude. Didn’t fuck with nobody unless they fucked with him. He was into his money. Had cars, jewelry, you know, the usual shit that comes with that territory, and a crib in Queens and one in, um, East New York, somewhere.”

  �
�Hmm. When did he get killed?” Sean asked.

  “Oh, that nigga been dead and gone for a minute. He got killed in the early 90’s. His son musta been like four or five years old at the time. Found Maleek on the side of some interstate, man. Somebody shot up his truck with him in it.”

  “Damn. That’s fucked up,” Sean replied, looking at Shamari and shaking his head. “What about Shorty’s mother? You know her?”

  “Well, homie did have two other baby mamas from what I heard. I think those kids were younger than this dude. If I’m not mistaken, this kid’s moms was off the chain back in the days. Finer than a motherfucker, though. Bad bitch with a nice, fat ass and a pretty face but you couldn’t let that shit fool you. She was layin’ a nigga down in the streets and the broad kept some heat on her at all times. Funny shit was this chick was gettin’ just as much money as her baby daddy was.”

  “Are you sure we talkin’ about this dude’s mother, Born? I saw his mother when she came up here to visit him and I didn’t get gangsta bitch from her,” Sean said, glancing at Shamari.

  “Yeah, Dee. That’s her. I think his mom’s name is, um, um, oh yeah, Brandi. That’s her name, Brandi. I didn’t know her personally, but we have mutual people that we’re cool with.”

  Sean was surprised. The woman he had seen earlier that day in a business suit couldn’t have been the same person Born was talking about. She seemed well spoken and extremely professional.

  “Man, are you sure his moms was that type of chick? I still find that shit hard to believe,” Sean asked in amazement.

  Born looked at Sean strangely. “Damn, nigga! You soundin’ like you wanna holler at homegirl.”

  “Nah,” Sean stated. “I just find it kinda crazy that the same woman I saw on the visit today a reformed hood chick. She came to see him all decked out in a business suit and shit. Her son is an asshole, though.”

  “Well, Brandi ain’t your average sister. She was a certified dimepiece and all, but she will put a bullet in a nigga’s ass if she had to. I haven’t seen her in years, so I dunno what she’s doin’ now. After Maleek got killed, she kinda fell back from hustlin’ and fell off the face of the earth.” Born paused and looked at Shamari. “What’s up with this dude? He ain’t givin’ you problems, is he?”

  Sean laughed at the thought. “Heelll no!” He held up his scraped-up hands. “You know these things are registered. I woulda slapped the dog shit outta that nigga if it was that serious.” They gave each other a pound. Born knew that Sean was telling the truth and chuckled.

  They conversed for a few moments more and then Sean walked back toward his desk to use the phone. He noticed Shamari’s eyes following his every move, but he ignored him for the time being.

  When Sean got to the phone, he pulled Brandi Wallace’s card out of his pocket and proceeded to dial her number. Sean noticed Shamari staring at him again, with a look of contempt on his face. It was as if he knew that Sean was calling his mother. He ignored Shamari’s dirty look and continued to do what he was doing. To his surprise, Brandi picked up on the first ring.

  “Hello, Brandi? How are you? This is Daniels,” he replied.

  “Hey, Officer Daniels,” she exclaimed. “How are you? How’s Sha—”

  Sean cut her off before she could mention Shamari’s name over the phone.

  “Hey, Look, I’m still at work so, you know,” he warned. He didn’t know who could be listening to their conversation.

  Brandi caught on quick. “Oh. Okay, no problem. How are you?”

  “I’m good, ma. And yourself?”

  “I’m fine, considering everything that’s going on.”

  Sean sighed. “I know. I know. By the way, you can call me Sean.”

  “Well, Sean, I’ve been waiting for your call.”

  Sean was still finding it hard to believe that the Brandi he was talking to was the same person who Born described to him earlier.

  “And you know what? I’ve been wantin’ to call you. I know that you hear this a lot, but I think that you are a very beautiful woman.”

  She giggled. “And I must say that you are extremely attractive yourself. Do you work out?”

  “Yeah, I do. I train sometimes, you know, I was a boxer. The workout regimen is excellent and I still use it.”

  Brandi seemed impressed. “It’s working, so keep up the good work. When I first lay eyes on you, I was instantly attracted to you, do you know that?”

  She’s good with her game, Sean thought. He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of panties she was wearing. He laughed at the thought.

  “Well, I feel the same way about you, sweetheart. You seem like you’re in good shape, too. Do you work out?” he asked.

  “As a matter of fact, I do. I live in Starrett City and we have a gym in the recreation center. You know where Starrett City is, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I do. Right on Pennsylvania Avenue, exit 14, off the Belt Parkway. What about workin’ out together one day? Do you think that that would be a problem?”

  “That would be great.” There was a brief silence. “So, um, where do you live, Sean?”

  “I was born and bred in Bed-Stuy. I still live there in a brownstone on Hancock and Stuyvesant. Why? Are you comin’ by?”

  Brandi laughed. “I might. You never know. But then again, your girlfriend might want to beat me up,” replied Brandi.

  Sean chuckled. “Nah, sweetheart. I’m a single man in every sense of the word. The only person that lives in my house is a tenant of mine. She lives on the top floor and she’s gay. Now she’s the one with the girlfriend, not me.”

  “Oh, okay. I guess you told me, huh? Well, with that being said, I suppose I will come to your humble abode one day. You never know. It might be real soon.”

  “And I will be waitin’ for that day,” Sean replied.

  As they continued their conversation, Sean realized that he wouldn’t mind seeing what Brandi was about. She sounded so confident over the phone and he couldn’t wait to see her for a face-to-face tête-à-tête. Sean gave her his contact information and hung up shortly after, so that he could concentrate on Five North. Brandi was so easy to talk to that he almost forgot that he was at work. Sean remembered that he had to make a tour around the housing area again but he couldn’t get up from his seat just yet. He had to sit down for a while so that his erection could go down.

  Shamari glared at Sean. He didn’t want CO Daniels to say a damn thing to him and clearly didn’t want to have anything to do with the man. Shamari rubbed his smooth skin as he continued to play the card game with some of his cronies, taking the opportunity to get some feedback on Sean Daniels.

  “Yo’, Ant, what’s up with CO Daniels?” he asked.

  Ant looked in Daniels’s direction. “Man, Daniels is a’ight. Why?”

  Shamari sneered at Ant’s comment. “I think that nigga is a real bird. When I was on the visit with my moms earlier, he tried to holler at her, yo’.”

  “Man, that’s grimy! You not suppose to holler at a nigga’s moms, even though she is fine as fuck, no disrespect, son,” Ant laughed.

  Shamari was unmoved. “Yeah, I know my moms look good, nigga, but damn, this Daniels was on her shit today. Ain’t that shit against the rules?”

  “Hell yeah, it’s against the rules but these CO cats don’t care. They’re mad thirsty when it comes to female visitors. Shit, my girl came to see me the other day and these COs was on her, too,” Ant exclaimed.

  Shamari laughed because he saw Ant’s girl before. She was not attractive, to say the least. She reminded him of a pit bull in the face.

  “Yeah, you right, man. They are thirsty!” The sarcastic comment went over Ant’s head. “Anyway, I ain’t feelin’ that nigga not one bit.”

  Ant attempted to change the subject. He was not one for gossip. He was just waiting to be sent upstate to do his time. He couldn’t careless about some police dude flirting with Shamari’s mother.

  “Look, man, let’s play cards. Daniels ain’t no threat to
nobody. That nigga is cooler than a fan and your moms is a grown-ass woman. I’m sure if she didn’t want to be bothered with that dude, she could get him off her back. It ain’t that serious, son.”

  Shamari waved Ant off. “Man, you don’t even talk to that nigga.”

  Ant smirked. “That’s why I say he’s cool. He no fucka with me, I no fucka with him. Now deal the cards, nigga. Damn!”

  Shamari laughed and picked up his cards when Sean finally made his way over to the table. Ant and Sean greeted each other, but Shamari ignored him.

  “What’s up, Wallace?” asked Sean. Shamari nodded his head. “You a’ight?”

  Shamari was annoyed. “Yeah, man, I’m straight,” he retorted without giving the officer any eye contact.

  “Good, good. Anyway, just checkin’ on you.” Shamari continued to play cards. “Just hold your head, Wallace. You’ll be outta here in a minute.”

  “Man, don’t you got work to do? Why the fuck is you worried about me? Ever since the visit, it’s like you been stalkin’ me.”

  Sean snatched the cards out of Shamari’s hand. Everyone looked at the two men, anticipating some drama.

  “Yo’, what the fuck is your problem?” Sean asked. He was beginning to wonder why he had taken a sudden interest in the slender teen with the bad attitude.

  Shamari stood up and looked Sean up and down. “You just met me today on the visit and you was busy tryin’ be in my mom’s face. So stop actin’ like you checkin’ for me, nigga! You ain’t my god-damn daddy!” Shamari announced.

  Sean smirked. He really wanted to slap the shit out of Shamari. Sean had already checked Shamari Tashaki Wallace’s rap sheet and saw that he was in jail for robbery in the second degree and assault with a deadly weapon. He had been held on Rikers for the last couple of months and was immediately moved from the adolescent facility when he turned last month.

  Sean looked at Shamari, who was a clean-cut and good-looking young man, with a light moustache over his top lip. He saw himself being Shamari at that age, but he thanked God for the positive male influences in his family who kept their feet in his ass every time he got into some trouble. He sincerely wanted to help the wayward adolescent get it together.

 

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