Corruption Officer (28 page)

The next day, I am called out of my cell to see the counselor
assigned to me.
 
I am a little hyped
because finally I could get an estimate of how long I am going to actually be
in prison.
 
The counselor sits me down
and goes over my crime and my charges.
 
After
reading my file, he takes a deep breath and says, “These charges don’t fit the
crime.
 
You’re lucky that they didn’t get
you for all the charges that they put on you.”
 

To me, he sounded a little disappointed that they
didn’t.
 

Then he read my charges, “Attempted drug sale, and Bribe
receiving,” he read some more, then said, “Well, I have some good news and some
bad news.
 
The good news is that since
this is your first offense you qualify for a number of early release programs
and the bad news is that I can’t tell you which one of them they’re going to
send you to.”
 
I give him a puzzled look
and ask, “Why is that?
 
The Judge gave me
the Shock Program.”
 
He said that he
would look into that because the officials up in Albany that run the prisons
ultimately decide when and where an inmate is going to be housed.
 
They don’t give me or you that information
because of safety reasons.

“Safety reasons?”
I asked.

“Yeah, if you and your people know when and where you are
going to be moved, you could plan an escape,” he said.

I looked at him like, ‘That sounds like B.S. to me and you
do realize that you’re talking to a C.O.?’
 
He said, “Well, believe me or not that’s the way it is.”
 
And just like that, our meeting was over
without me getting any answers what-so-ever.
 
I went back to my cell frustrated.
 
I should have known that the “for safety
reason” excuse was going to be used a lot to avoid doing any work.
 
A few days went by and I was getting to know
how things were run upstate.
 

First you only get visits once a week and you only get to
call your family once a week so communication will mostly be done by writing
letters.
 
I was just going through the
routine day by day and had gotten to know a few of the youngsters who were
housed there with me.
 
Amazingly, they
also hung out with Rick and they knew all about his charges.
 
One was called Chris and the other was
Junie.
 
Chris was 19-years-old and was
acting like he was having the time of his life here in jail.
 
He was always scribbling on his note pad and
when I asked him what he was writing he told me that he was writing raps for
his album that he was going to put out once his appeal went through.
 
I nodded okay.
 
I was all for being positive in any situation.
 
After lunch we all talked on the “jack” to
one another since our cells were right across from each other.
 
Talking on the jack is another name for
telephone, consists of us laying on the floor and talking to each other through
the bottom of our cell doors, due to the fact that they were elevated.
 
As Chris continues to write and rhyme, Junie
says, “No disrespect, but how does it feel to be on this side?”
 
I shrug my shoulders and say, “It’s crazy but
I made my bed and so I have to lie in it.”
 
He says, “True.”
 
At this time a female C.O. walks by our cells
to do a count and Chris, being young, sings out,
“I am in love with a stripper she can pop it she can lock it!”
 
Junie just looks at him like he’s crazy, shakes
his head, then he looks at me and says, “I don’t know how this fool does it.”
 
I ask, “What?”
 
He says, “Remain cool like we are about to go
walk in the park,” he continues, “I am stressing about all my shit and this
fool over here is singing.
 
I ask why was
he stressing and he said, “I am finished.
 
I got 15 to life for a body and guess what?”
 
I said, “What?”
 
He says, “I didn’t do it.”
 
I just gave him a non judgmental look and he
continues “I ain’t going to lie, I ride for my set, but this shit ain’t panning
out the way it’s supposed to.
 
I am here
for taking the heat for my set and these nigga’s are supposed to be taking care
of me and doing shit for my daughter on the outside but they ain’t.”
 
I been down only a year and after I got
sentenced I ain’t heard or seen nobody from my set.

I ask him, “If you didn’t do it then why
are
you
here?”
 
He says, “I ain’t
no
snitch.
 
I could
have walked and all of that, the D.A. was going to cut me a deal if I told him
who really bodied that kid but I ain’t no snitch.”
 
I ask, “Have you heard from your family?”
 
He says, “Only the ones that I ain’t shit on
when I was out.
 
My momma writes every
now and then and I don’t really get any visits or packages.”
 

He looks away from me as if he’s in his own thoughts and I
could see the pain in his face from him thinking about his decision to do this
bid.
 
Chris looks at him and says, “Suck
it up, nigga.
 
You knew what it was when
you decided to ride.”
 
Then he says, “I
am a soldier for me and my nigga’s and I am going to rep my hood ‘til my casket
drop!”
 
Junie looks at him almost with
tears in his eyes and says, “Man I have a 4 year old daughter!” Chris comes
back and says, “And!?
 
You knew you had
her when you was outside rolling so now what’s the point in dwelling on it!
 
Shit is done.”
 
I look at Junie and could tell that he didn’t
want to hear what Chris was saying even though it was the truth.
 
Junie then lays into Chris, “Nigga you
sitting there like this is some kind of joy ride!
 
These fools out there living
it up at mine and your expense.
 
They
ain’t riding for us.
 
They ain’t doing
what they said that they were going to do!
 
Look at you, the only one I see coming up here
on a visit for you is
your
stressed out moms!
 
Where is all them other nigga’s at?
 
Where they at!?”
 
He paused for a response.
 
Then Chris asked him, “Yo’, what’s good with
you?
 
Why you breaking down like this?”
 
Junie flings him a letter that he just
received and Chris reads it then flings it back.
 
Chris says, “That ain’t about nothing
referring to the letter.
 
You knew that
bitch was going to fuck as soon as you got locked up.
 
That’s a part of this jail shit.
 
Some chicks just ain’t built for it.
 
My chick ain’t
fucking,
she’s sitting there waiting on daddy.”
 
Junie again responds agitated, “Mother
fucker
,
I don’t care about the bitch.
 
It’s the
fact that my homies who are supposed to be
friends, that I am
riding for,
are now fucking her!
 
Where’s
the loyalty!?
 
When you’re out there
hustling and busting your gun doing all types of stupid shit for these nigga’s
it’s
all good but as soon as you get knocked three months
later they forget about you like you never did shit for them!”
 
Chris now pissed says, “Man up and quit your
bitching!”
 
Junie yells back, “Man up!
 
Man up!?
 
I know you just didn’t say that stupid shit to
me!
 
Yo’ dumb ass in here for the same
reason I am in here for following some dumb mother fucker ordering you to
commit crimes that they ain’t going to take the heat for.
 
I bet you
was
the
dolja
nigga the stupid nigga that was
carrying the guns and the drugs for nigga’s.
 
You was the first one to pop when they gave the order, the first one to
make a move and then when the heat came down you’re the one that’s locked up in
here just like me.
  
You sitting
here singing
that “I am in love with a stripper” shit to the
C.O. like you don’t have a sentence of fifty to life sitting on your chest!”
 
He stops and shakes his head I give a look of
shock at the numbers he just threw out there then he continues.

“You’re cheesing around here talking about being a rapper
when you get out thinking that appeal of yours will happen overnight.
 
Those shits don’t work like that and
especially if your family doesn’t have money like that.
 
They take years.”
 

He laughs at Chris who’s attitude has turned serious then
says, “If your appeal works it will still be about ten years for them to even
reduce your charges because you’re not getting off scot-free and if it doesn’t
work you’re talking fifty years before you’re eligible for parole.”
 
Then he pauses and acts like he’s counting on
his fingers then says, “Ya’ 19 and by the time you get out, granted they let
you get parole at your first board, you will be damn near seventy
something!
 
Tah, and you think that bitch
of yours ain’t fucking!?
 
Let me school
you El’ Stupido, when you’re in jail and doing a lot of time the best thing
that you can hope for out of a woman is for her to have enough respect for you
to lie to you.
 
If you got a woman, who is
excepting your collect calls, bringing you packages, visiting and writing you
and still telling you that she loves you even though she’s out there getting
her rocks off, then you have a good woman.
 
What woman in her right mind is going to wait 50 years!?
 
Shit they ain’t waiting 50 minutes.
 
As soon as that hammer drops so do those
panties.”
 
He chuckles because earlier
Chris was getting at him but knew he has successfully fucked Chris’s whole day
up and his bid for that matter because now he was thinking about everything
that Junie was saying.
 
As we lay there
on the floor of our cells, each of us is in our own thoughts about our crimes
and our actions, and each of us was asking ourselves that universal question…
Was it worth it?

The weekend arrives and I am called for a visit.
 
I am escorted throughout the jail by two Corrections
Officers everywhere I go.
 
I arrive at
the visitors floor looking around for either my mother or my sister when I see
a good friend of mine named Tonnie sitting at a table with a pile of White Castle
hamburgers in front of her.
 
I was happy
and sad at the same time, happy to see her, but sad that she had to see
me
like this.
 
I never
really thought about anybody visiting me because my focus was on getting home
as soon as possible.
 
We hugged and she
was smiling but I could sense the vibe of
I
can’t believe you’re in prison
.
 
After
we sat down I went right into explaining, the best way that I could, why I did
what I did.
 
As I talked, I knew that I
would have to explain this to a lot of people who cared and expected more of
me.
 
Tonnie was beautiful, smart, and the
type of woman that held her own.
 
And most
of all, she was a true friend.
 
When all
of the big booty freaks that I would rock with told me that they didn’t do the
jail thing, Tonnie showed up.
 
I had to
admit that even though I didn’t want anybody to come see me, I was glad she
made the trip.
 
We talked and her
presence took my mind off my situation for the moment.
 

While chatting with her, sometimes I just got quiet because
I was reflecting on how I was living as a C.O. and how blinded I became as soon
as I donned that uniform.
 
Here was a
good woman sitting before me that has always been there for me but was never
given the proper treatment due to me chasing other woman less deserving.
 
It was a humbling experience and I was
wondering what I should say to her.
 
Should
I say, ‘Hey, I didn’t want you when I was the high and mighty C.O. but now that
I’ve ruined my life and lost everything lets be together?’
 
That would sound real stupid.
 
I knew that her being here was out of her
loving and caring for me.
 
I knew from my
experience as a C.O. that an inmate has no power over what people do on the
outside and that people come to visit because they want to
period
.
 
She told me that she
would stand by me as a friend for now and that we would see how everything
works out.
 
Before my visit was over, she
told me that she believed that I could overcome this and still make it when I
got out.
 
Hearing her say that to me gave
me more inspiration to do what I had to do to get out of there.
 

When she got up to leave we hugged and she felt so good that
I didn’t want to let her go, but I had to.
 
That’s when I realized the only bad thing about getting visits is when
it was time for them to leave.
 
The
escort Officer came and picked me up and we began to walk back to my housing
area.
 
I was in good spirits thinking
about having her in my corner and for the first time I thought about what I
would need to do to be with her when I got out.
 

The Officer ordered me to stop at the beginning of a long
corridor.
 
He radioed ahead to another Officer
way at the other end that I was coming and over the radio I heard the Officer
say, “Send him.”
 
Then the Officer told
me, “Go.”
 
The Officer stayed behind as I
began to walk towards the other end.
 
I
was so high off my visit that I paid no attention to the other inmate that was
walking towards me from the other end of the corridor.
 
My attention was on smelling my hand that had
her perfume on it which made me feel like I had a purpose again.
 
I was half way through the corridor when - Wham!
 

I was hit on the side of my forehead!
 
I stumbled against the wall and quickly tried
to regain my bearings!
 
I came out of my
daze in time to see, ‘No joke,’ the inmate that Flocko cut for me with his scar
on his face, squatting down with his hands in the back of his pants, and shit
out a banger!
 
He lunged at me with it
trying to stab me but I caught his wrist.
 
He was a little taller than me but luckily for me I outweighed him.
 
As I held his arm, I hit him in the face a few
times.
 
We fell on the floor and began to
roll around.
 
He was hell bent on trying
to wiggle his arm free so that he could cut me!
 
Now I could hear the footsteps of the Officers coming down the corridor.
 
I was still wrestling with him holding
his arm tight when he said, “You thought I wasn’t going to remember your
ass!”
 
The Officers arrived there and saw
that I had his wrist and that he had the weapon in a tight grip.
 
They grabbed it from him and wrestled us apart.
 
We were handcuffed and ordered to face
the wall on our knees and not move.
 
All
I kept thinking was this motherfucker just tried to kill me!
 
I was breathing hard when I was ordered to
take off the shirt and part of my greens so that they could see if I had been
poked.
 
After they could not find
anything I was escorted to the clinic anyway because the hole could be real
small and I could start bleeding eternally and no one would know it.
 

As I sat there in the clinic I kept replaying him saying
that he “remembered me!”
 
This brought me
back to the reality that protective custody don’t mean shit if people really
want to get to you.
 
I was sitting there
in my own thoughts when a Sergeant walked in and asked me if I was okay.
 
I nodded.
 

“Listen,” he said, “I am not going to write you up for
fighting because of
who
you used to be but I need you
to let this go also.”
 
I looked at him
confused because I knew that this guy came at me and that they recovered the
weapon from his own hand so why would I be in trouble?
 
He said, “I know you know that Officer
Stanton dropped the ball and that you were not supposed to be in that corridor
by yourself.
 
He was supposed to walk you
all the way back to your area, the lazy fuck.”
 
I nodded in acknowledgement but really it had
not crossed my mind that that’s what happened.
 
He said, “So, we got a deal?
 
I don’t write you up and ruin what chances you
may have at early release and you keep quiet about this.”

I nodded because I felt what choice do I have and I did not
want anything to interfere with me going home early.
 
He told me that they would take care of No Joke
because they don’t tolerate slashings and stabbings up here.
 
After I was treated, I was properly escorted
to my area.
 
When I got inside my cell I
just sat up on the edge of my bed with my hands clasped in front of my face
analyzing this whole situation that I’ve gotten myself into once again.
 
I thought about the balls this fool had to
attack me right there out in the open!
 
Then
I thought did he want to kill me that bad that he didn’t care where we were or
who was around?
 
The more I thought about
it the more enraged I became.
 
I also came
to the conclusion that this is going to happen everywhere I go because I can’t
even begin to count the amount of inmates that I put hands on for the sake of
that job or for the sake of hustling.
 
All
the shit that I did has an opportunity to come back to me while I am
incarcerated.
 
Then I thought about my
mother, my kids, my family and now possibly Tonnie and said to myself, ‘I have
to do this.
 
It’s nobody’s fault that I
am here but mine.
 
In short, I made my
bed and now I had to lie in it.’
 
I did
just that.
 
I lay down and went to sleep.
 

A few weeks went by.
 
I
was told to, “Pack up.”
 
I was on the
move again and still with no concrete answers from my counselor.
 
I had no idea where I was heading.
 
Was it the Shock Program?
 
Was it a minimum camp further upstate?
 
All this went through my head as I sat waiting
in the intake area for transportation.
 
I
got up to go from the cell I was sitting in by myself, as usual, when I saw
Chris in a cell across from me.
 
He was
in there with a bunch of other inmates eating off trays of food.
 
Chris wasn’t eating.
 
He just had his food on his lap staring out
into space looking dazed.
 
I called out
to him.
 
He turned and looked at me.
 
I asked him how was the appeal coming
along?
 
He did not say
a word he just shook his head indicating “No.”
 
He had a look on his face that I’ve seen many times before.
 
It had finally set in and he realized that he
was never going home….