As soon as I stepped foot on the bus, I knew it was going to be a miserable trip. There were babies crying, ghetto baby mamas arguing and talking cash shit, and tired wives who had done this routine time and time again. I shook my head, knowing that I could never be one of the chicks waiting on the outside. I had done years of lockup on my own as a child. I wasn’t trying to do five more waiting on Murder or anybody else. It was then that I knew that I could not ride out Murder’s sentence with him. When a loved one is locked up, that time affects the inmate and everyone around him.
As I looked at an older woman with a wedding band on her finger, I couldn’t help but ask, “Are you here to see your husband?”
My question caught her off guard, but she shook her head and answered, “No, baby. I’m here for that knuckle head son of mine. He grew up watching me make this same trip to come and see his father, and now he’s landed himself in the same predicament… behind the white man’s walls. Like father like son, I guess.”
The sadness in her eyes scared me, and I fidgeted uncomfortably in my seat as I noticed the lifelessness in the woman. She had no hope, no light in her eye. That’ll never be me, I thought as uneasiness filled my stomach. As much as I cared for Murder, I knew that after today I would not come back. The best I can do is letters and make sure his money is right, I thought. I knew it was selfish, but it was real. The truth of the matter was, Murder was not my man, even though somewhere deep inside I wished that he had been.
After practically being molested by the guards and storing my personal items in a locker, I was finally escorted into a waiting room. I sat at the small table, growing more nervous as each minute ticked by. My manicured hand tapped impatiently, as butterflies filled my stomach. I was in the middle of a prison, but I felt as if I was going on a blind date. I rubbed my sweaty hands on my jeans, and then finally Murder came waltzing into view. His swagger was still so on point. Even in the jail hookup he had on he possessed an aura of respect. I smiled as he came near me.
“Hey, Murder!” I greeted as I stood to hug him.
He held me extra tight and extra close.
“My lil’ mama!” he whispered, “Thanks for coming.”
“I’m sorry it took me so long. It’s been rough. I had to let things die down, you know?”
Murder nodded his head, then motioned for me to take a seat. “I know,” he answered. “Where’s your sister?” His eyebrows dipped low when he mentioned Anisa, as if he already knew the answer to his own question.
“Um, she couldn’t make it, Murder. She told me to tell you-” I was about to make up an excuse on her behalf, but Murder waved his hand in dismissal.
“Don’t do that, ma. You’ve never lied to me before. Don’t start now because of your sister. I know Anisa. A nigga can’t keep her when he’s down; only when he at the top. I don’t want to talk about her,” he said with a hint of sadness in his voice. He touched my chin, making me smile. “You’re here. Let’s talk about that. Why did you come?”
His question had me stuck. Why did I come? I asked myself. I looked him directly in the eyes. The chemistry between our gaze was magnetic. “I owe you,” I said.
“That’s it?” he countered with a boyish charm.
“I was worried about you.”
“Uh-huh,” he responded. “You sure that’s it?”
I hesitated before I continued, but knew that I wasn’t being honest with myself. “I care about you, Murder.”
“It’s a little bit deeper than that, lil’ mama, but I’ll play by your rules. I care about you too, ma. Always have… always will,” he said as he grabbed my hand.
My heart was beating out of my chest. “I’m sorry. I feel like it’s my fault you’re in here.”
“This ain’t on you. These walls ain’t shit to me. In five years, I’ma walk out the same mu’fucka,” he said as he kissed the inside of my wrist.
Seeing him in good spirits felt good. The interaction between us felt so natural… so right. He was my nigga, first and foremost. Murder and I were friends, but the fact that my attraction to him was growing by the second had me thinking about waiting for him; had me wanting to be there for him for those long five years.
“Murder, Anisa will never understand this. She’s my sister, and I can’t pick you over her, no matter how much I’m feeling you,” I told him.
He nodded his head in understanding. “I know, Miamor. I would never ask you to. I know the type of woman you are. You’re loyal, and that’s one of the reasons why I feel the way I do about you. Like I told you before, it’s not meant to be for us, but it don’t stop me from wanting you. In five years, I’ma look you up, believe that, ma. You’re my lil’ mama always. Life moves on, and I would never ask you to wait or to hurt your sister. I’ma come check for you when I’m free though.”
I smiled and pulled my hand away from Murder’s. “I have one more thing to tell you,” I said. He was silent as he waited for me to continue. “I answered your phone,” I said. My words hit him like a ton of bricks, and his face collapsed into a mixture of sorrow and anger. “I’m on that now. Every time, I’ll have your paper put aside for you and I’ll keep your books on full in here. When you get out, you’ll have money waiting on you.”
Murder put his face in his hands and shook his head from side to side. “I didn’t want that for you, Miamor. That’s not for you. You deserve better than that.”
I stood to my feet and wiped the tears from my eyes. “I don’t think a better life is in the cards for me,” I whispered.
Murder stood and pulled me close, putting his hands in my back jean pockets as we hugged. He pulled a picture out of my pocket. “What’s this?” he asked.
I had meant to give it to him when I first arrived. It was a picture of us together on my birthday, holding up bottles of champagne.
He pulled me near him one more time and whispered in my ear. “Be careful. Never think twice about pulling a trigger
Turn your heart cold, Miamor. Think like a nigga, because acting like a bitch will get you killed. It’s the only way you’ll make it. Slump a nigga before he can slump you. No body, no weapon-”
“No murder,” I whispered, finishing his sentence, our lips so close together that they touched when I spoke the words.
He pulled back and looked me in the eye. “You’ve already done your first job,” he said in surprise.
I nodded my head, stood on my tip toes and kissed his cheek. “Good bye, Murder.”
He held onto my hand as I walked away, until the distance finally separated us. “Holla at me, Miamor… at least once a month to let me know you’re okay!” he yelled after me.
I nodded my head in agreement, and then walked out of his life.
When I returned to the apartment, the atmosphere was tense. Everyone was silent and staring at me in suspicion as soon as I set foot inside the door.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Robyn asked.
I looked at her like she was crazy, and bypassed her without responding as I went into my room. The silly bitch obviously didn’t know about me, because if she did, she would have known that I would smack fire from her ass for talking to me out the side of her neck.
She followed behind me. “Look, you’re the one who said we should lay low and let the streets cool down before we get to spending money, then when we wake, up you’re ghost,” she said. “What are we supposed to think?”