by Sa'id Salaam
“Mm, that’s it,” he told the memory of the preacher’s wife. He was on the verge of an orgasm when he was rudely interrupted by a sharp pain in his back. He knew immediately that he had been stabbed but not by who. He had done so much fuck shit since he’d arrived that it could be anyone. Billy quickly moved away and spun around.
“You?” Billy grimaced when he saw Cat Eyes fully dressed and wielding a knife. Two of his partners stood guard ready to pounce as well. He knew he could take one, but three with knives equaled six and that was too many.
“Yeah me, nigga!” Cat Eyes growled and lunged forward again. Billy just managed to dip out of the way and not get stabbed again.
“Why you messing with me man?” Billy asked, as if he had done no wrong.
“Cuz you… you… you robbed me!” Cat Eyes replied and swung again.
“Oh, I know what this is about!” Billy laughed then turned to the other man’s friends. “He ain’t tell y’all I use to fuck his mouth while we was in reform school, huh?”
“Lies!” Cat Eyes screamed, proving it to be the truth. He went crazy with the knife after that stabbing air and the tile wall while Billy taunted him.
“Y’all ain’t fuckin’ this pretty nigga? You gotta see the way them green eyes flutter when you put the dick in his mouth,” Billy cackled. Cat Eyes’ friends had wanted to fuck him but fell for the tough guy role he portrayed.
“Handle yo’ bidnezz. We’ll see you back on the block,” they said and turned and left. Cat Eyes wanted to leave with them but that wasn’t an option.
“It’s me and you now, boy!” Billy hissed as he circled around to block the exit.
“Ugh!” Cat Eyes grunted as he attacked once more. Billy blocked him with his arm and did a roundhouse with his elbow. The blow removed the other man’s front teeth as it sent him back peddling into the shower’s wall.
“Gon’ stab me, nigga!” Billy demanded and punctuated his words with vicious punches to the body. Cat Eyes dropped the knife and tried to cover up. Billy quickly swept around him and put him into a choke hold. Cat Eyes tapped, clawed, and pulled until he passed out from the pressure around his neck.
“You know you don’ fucked up right?” Billy asked as he stripped the unconscious man. The few spectators took the action as their cue to leave, no man wants to see another man get raped.
“Yeeooow!” Cat Eyes squealed when he awoke and felt what was happening to him.
“I bet!” Billy laughed and kept right on going. He used one arm to hold him in a choke hold while he used the other to hold the knife. There was nothing Cat Eyes could do except take it and so he did.
“That was fucked up!” Cat Eyes screamed once the rape came to an end, pun intended.
“No, this…” Billy corrected as he shoved the knife into his neck, “is fucked up!”
He ignored the gargles as Cat Eyes struggled to stay alive. He got back under the water and finished showering. LeVaughn had cooked him a hot meal by the time he returned. The rest of the cell block ignored the dead guy in the shower. It wasn’t until the count in Cat Eyes’ cell block came up short that he was discovered.
“Uh oh!” LeVaughn warned when all the commotion began.
“Don’t worry babe, ain’t no one gon’ tell on Dollar Bill!” he said arrogantly, which was surprising since he was so well versed in scripture and knew that Proverbs 16:18 read ‘Pride goes before destruction.’
Chapter 38
“Warden on deck!” the guards screamed as they stormed the cell block. His red face was even redder from pure rage. All the inmates had begun to scramble to attention by their cells.
“Shit!” Billy fussed at being interrupted from his morning ritual. He liked to start each day with head, a cup of coffee, and the sports section, but the warden had fucked that up.
“I done tol’ y’all niggas ‘bout all the violence. I let y’all smoke, drank, and fuck all you want but leaving a dead nigga in my shower is unacceptable!” he boomed. All the while his good squad marched straight towards Billy.
“Uh oh,” LeVaughn muttered when he saw them coming.
“I was gon’ lock this whole cell block down until I got my man. Luckily for y’all I got all these kites!” he said holding up a fistful of letters all bearing Billy’s name. Not only would they rid themselves of the bully but they’d free up a sissy as well.
“Cuff up!” a guard demanded pulling out his cuffs. The other guards pulled their billy clubs in case he wanted to do it the hard way. He didn’t, he turned around and let them hook him up.
“Your black ass going to the hole until hell freeze over!”
“Can I take him?” Billy asked hoping to take his sissy with him.
“Cain’t take nothing to the hole. All you get in there is a bible and paper to write home,” the guard assured him.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be back in a couple of days,” Billy called to LeVaughn as he was led away. “Wait for me!”
****
A year had passed before Billy got the hint that he was going to be in the hole for a while. LeVaughn was not waiting for him to return. In fact he hadn’t even lasted the day before someone else had claimed him as his own.
Billy spent most of the first year jacking off and doing push-ups. He had no one to write nor any use for the bible. By the second year he’d finally picked it up and read it from cover to cover.
By the fifth year he’d memorized every word of it but didn’t believe a word of it. He did, however, learn that he could use the scripture to manipulate people. The natural born hustler began to use it as a hustle and Reverend Cash was reborn.
“What time is service today?” an old timer named Smitty called out from the far end of the tier. Like Billy he was in the hole for killing another inmate. The warden had told him that he’d be there until hell froze solid. That was fifteen years ago.
“Just give me a few minutes. I’m gathering my sermon right now,” Reverend Cash called back. The entire cell block stopped what they were reading or writing and prepared to tune in. “In the meanwhile, I’ll send the collection plate round.”
In this case the collection plate was actually a pillowcase tied to a makeshift wire that stretched from one end of the block to the other. This was how drugs, tobacco, and girly magazines were passed, traded, sold, or borrowed. It was also how Reverend Cash collected his tithes. He made sure to collect his collections before he started to preach. He then based the length, quantity, and quality of the sermon he gave on what he’d been given. If his collection was light then so was his message. If it was hefty then he’d lift all spirits to the heavens.
“There you go Rev.,” Peppy in the cell over called when the plate made it back full.
“Yes Lawd! Y’all must want me to preach today, huh?” Reverend Cash asked as he emptied the pillowcase. It had commissary items, sticks of reefer, homemade wine, and a grainy black and white picture of a hairy vagina.
“Preach Rev.!” they cheered and preach he did. Even a few of the guards came in and listened to the word.
It was a full two hours later when he asked the men to bow their heads one last time. He spit some mumbo jumbo that made the men ‘Amen’, ‘Yes Lawd’, and ‘Hallelujah’ and was done.
“Preacher ‘bout to take some meditation time now,” Reverend Cash announced. What he meant was he was about to smoke some reefer, drink some wine, and bust a nut while looking at whoever’s vagina that was.
****
Ten years later Reverend Cash was still in the hole. A few faces had changed but that was about all. Smitty had gone on to the upper room a year ago and hell still hadn’t frozen over so he was still stuck. He was still preaching the world and eating off doing so.
“Inmate Cash!” the guard boomed as he made his way down the tier. He sounded official but was actually one of Reverend Cash’s flock. He looked both ways to make sure that the coast was clear and then slipped him a rolled up magazine. “Here ya go Rev.”
“What’s this?” the Rev
erend asked softly so that he wouldn’t be overheard.
“It’s a newsletter from Pastor Wesley out in California. I thought you might enjoy it,” the guard said in conspiratorial tone and winked. Magazines were still contraband so this was a big deal.
“Thanks,” Cash smiled and nodded. He just knew that the inside was full of naked pictures for him to masturbate to. He was wrong. It was full of articles and scripture. As soon as the guard left he flung it into the corner. It was two days later when he finally picked it up and he was glad that he did.
“Damn!” he exclaimed when he saw the huge house behind the smiling preacher. It was no wonder he was smiling with the luxury cars in the driveway and expensive watch on his wrist.
The California preacher was at the helm of a mega-church and T.V ministry that netted him millions. Reverend Cash read the words of the interview but all he saw were the riches. His big titty blonde wife and fancy suits appealed to him way more than the pillowcase full of commissary. The end of the magazine had an order form from Reverend Wesley’s bible study.
“Sign me up!” he cheered and did just that. A week later he received the full one year course in the mail. A month later he sent it back completed. A month after that he received a full scholarship to Reverend Wesley’s Bible College.
Four years later he was still in the hole but had a degree in Theology. Five years later his name was finally called.
“William Cash! Pack it up,” the guard called down the cell block. When he didn’t get a reply he went down to the cell. “Pack it up, Cash.”
“What hell finally froze over? The warden finally letting me back in population?” he asked sarcastically.
“Population? Boy, you made parole. You going home!”
Chapter 39
Reverend Cash was shocked into complete silence as he was processed out of prison. The notion of parole had never really crossed his mind considering all the fuckery he’d committed. He was especially shocked considering the Cat Eyes situation, but since he’d never been charged with killing him it hadn’t been held against him. Being locked in solitary had kept him out of trouble so his record was clean.
He dressed in the state issued going home clothes, which were designed to make you look like you had just been released from prison. Upon release each inmate was given a cheap pair of denim jeans, with an even cheaper button down shirt, along with the cheapest pair of tennis shoes. The state also cut a check for whatever funds an inmate had left in his account. If an inmate’s balance was zero then the state would add another zero and put a one in front of the two turning it into a hundred dollars. It could be used to get on one’s feet or to re-ignite a drug and/or alcohol problem. Hoping for the latter the state left a light on for those who would return.
“Is this right?” Cash asked blinking rapidly at the numbers on the check. He had earned his G.E.D along with two degrees in theology, but the numbers on the check baffled him. He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. If the state had fucked up and given him too much money it was his sworn duty to keep it.
“Ten thousand… yup, that’s right,” the officer confirmed after consulting his computer. “Seems you got a check from when yo’ mama house sold a while back.”
“Somebody paid ten thousand for my mama’s house?” he asked in disbelief. Surely they had gotten over since he knew what she’d paid for it. He didn’t consider the fact that that had been well over thirty years ago. In fact it was he who’d got, got. The property had sold for over one hundred thousand and he’d only received a measly ten percent of it.
“Bus ticket,” the guard said handing it over. He wondered if inmate Cash could read from the way he frowned down at the ticket.
“Memphis,” Cash finally read aloud. He then drifted back inside of his own thoughts and wondered what was there for him. Lady was dead. Byron and Leroy were also dead, along with Shawna, Shonda, and her mama. The Buffalo Gals had shared Aids while sharing needles a decade ago.
Reverend Cash was still wondering as he rode the bus to Memphis. Time flies when you’re inside of your head, so the next thing he knew the bus was pulling into Memphis. Or so the driver said because he didn’t recognize a thing. He was in awe at the new buildings, street signs, and the huge casino shaped like a pyramid.
The people seemed to have changed as well. Gone were the afros and platform shoes. They were replaced with sagging jeans and dreadlocks. A group of teen girls caught his eye as they giggled their way pass the stopped bus. They were dressed like whores but were actually on their way to middle school.
The exact date was June 1, 2005 when the thirty-eight year old Reverend Cash stepped off the bus as a free man. He closed his eyes and inhaled freedom for the first time in over a decade. He caught a glimpse of the world famous Memphis BBQ as he opened his eyes and it made his empty stomach flutter like a third semester baby in its mother’s womb. He recalled an inmate who was constantly in and out of prison telling him he could cash his check at the bank just across the street from the bus station. He exhaled and made his way over.
It took him a minute to build up the courage to cross the busy street. Life now moved a lot faster since he’d been gone, not to mention the crossing sign had also changed dramatically. Cash watched the other pedestrians for a few seconds and then did what they did.
The guard recognized the prison issued clothing and kept an eye on him upon his entrance into the bank. It wasn’t too long ago that another man had stepped off of the bus, crossed the street, and robbed the place. He’d wanted to go back to prison, so he’d sat on the curb and waited until the cops came to grant him his wish.
A pretty teller had also taken notice of the man in prison clothes and locked her eyes on him because he was so handsome. Reverend Cash saw the young woman smiling at him and almost ran out. It had been eighteen years since he’d been with a man, but it had been twenty years since he’d been with a woman. Fate caused the line to flow putting him face to face with the pretty woman. He couldn’t help but to inhale the sweet smells coming from across the counter. She smelled of hair care products along with a lotion and perfume that smelled wonderful.
“Welcome to First National. How can I help you?” she offered with a bright smile and fluttering lashes.
“I… um…” he replied then frowned in confusion at having lost his train of thought. “Um…”
“You want to cash your check?” she helped. “Let me have it along with the ID card that they gave you.”
“Okay,” he said gratefully as he followed her instructions. She didn’t blink at the large amount on the check, the new age dope boys often came home with large checks. The date of birth on his ID, however, did cause her to blink in shock. Her mental math told her that the man standing before her was thirty-eight, but he didn’t look a day over twenty-five, twenty-one if he took his shirt off.
“Is this right?” she inquired.
“Yes, Ma’am. Prison preserves you,” he explained. Men who went in young and did long bids often came out looking only slightly aged. Unfortunately, the statement also applied mentally as well. A man who went in at eighteen and did fifteen years usually came home with the mentality of a twenty-one year old.
“Sure does! I wouldn’t have guessed it from looking at you, but you almost my mama’s age!” she gushed as she counted out his money. She smiled and batted her lashes at him again when she handed it over, just in case he wanted to ask her out.
“Any place I can get some BBQ ‘round here?” he asked as he separated his cash into different pockets. It was an old habit he’d learned from the streets. It was done just in case a jack boy got the drop on you. You’d only part with some instead of all of your money that way.
“A few. I don’t mess with them fancy places though. Go up the street two blocks and make a right. It’s the best in town,” she replied. “Oh and there’s a clothing store right across the street, just in case you want to change.”
“Thank you, Ma’am,” Cash said and ga
ve her a polite nod as he turned and walked briskly out of the bank.
“He gay!” the teller mused to herself. She’d seen it before and therefore wasn’t surprised. “He gotta be because I know I look good!”
****
Reverend Cash got reacquainted with the taste of Memphis’ BBQ before crossing the street to the clothing store the teller had mentioned. His eyes naturally gravitated to the colorful pimp suits he’d worn before he left the street, but luckily for him a sharp salesman saved him from purchasing any.
“Been a minute, huh?” the salesman asked knowingly. Everyone who got locked up twenty or more years ago was drawn to that wall of the shop. He quickly steered Cash away from the wall and over to the more up to date fashions.
“Wow!” Cash uttered as he admired his reflection in the dressing room mirror. The charcoal grey slacks the salesman had picked out for him contrasted perfectly with the black shirt, belt, and shoes he’d paired with them. Cash paid a couple hundred for a couple of new outfits, handpicked by the salesman, and headed back out.
Not having a clue as to where to go ended him right back at the bus station with the aimless. After twenty years of eating prison food the soul food he’d eaten had shocked his system causing him to make a beeline to the station’s bathroom. His stomach rumbled and turned flips as he did.
“Shit!” Cash groaned at barely having sat before releasing his bowels. It was so loud that he almost missed the announcements.
“Bus 1080 headed to Atlanta, Georgia now boarding at gate 9. I repeat bus 1080…”
Cash had just enough time to push it all out, wipe his ass, and buy a ticket before boarding the bus. Watch out Atlanta, here comes trouble!
Chapter 40
Usually the thought of moving to a new city with nothing and where you knew no one was a scary prospect, but not for Cash because it meant that he could be whoever he wanted to be. No one knew him so no one could refute whatever he told them. He was Reverend Cash and no one could say otherwise. Besides, he had the degrees to prove it.
