12
On Saturday morning I woke up at 3:00 A.M. to get to the bus stop in downtown Brooklyn to take the bus to Elmira. I told my aunt that I was going and that I would spend the night with a friend from school who lived closer. Of course that friend was D-Waite. It’s not that I had to lie about being with my boyfriend but she had been depressed since Preston left, and I didn’t want to shove my happy love life in her face. D-Waite arranged for a cab to pick me up. He also insisted on giving me a hundred dollars for the trip even though I told him I had it covered.
I got to the bus stop and stood in line with a lot of single women and families. There were only a couple of women on the bus when I boarded. I grabbed a seat next to a window and went to sleep, which wasn’t hard because D-Waite and I had spent most of the night not sleeping. I woke just as the bus driver stopped outside the prison. I followed the other passengers, who knew the routine.
“You going to visit your man?” an older woman with kind eyes asked me.
“No. My father,” I said. Strange that a week ago I’d never said the word out loud and here it was rolling off my tongue.
“Must be really looking forward to seeing him. How long since you done seen him?” she wanted to know.
“I’ve never met him,” I admitted, and suddenly felt embarrassed and stupid for getting on this bus and traveling hours to visit a man who may have wanted nothing to do with me.
“Well aren’t you brave. Pretty thing like you. Any man would be proud to have a daughter like you.” I smiled in response because I didn’t know what to say. “If he refuses to see you then just fuck him. It’ll be his loss.”
Eventually a door opened and we were led into a screening room where we had to give our identification and say who we had come to visit. The gruff corrections officer stared down at my ID and scowled at me.
“A person under the age of eighteen needs to be accompanied by an adult.”
“But I’m going to be eighteen soon,” I pleaded.
“Well you can come back then,” she barked at me.
The lady I met in line stepped up to the desk. “She ain’t got to be eighteen if she visiting her daddy.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that the prisoner was your father? What’s his name and ID number?”
“I don’t have his ID number but his name is John Thompson.”
The guard did a double take. “Big John Thompson?”
“Yes, that’s him,” I answered, relieved that she knew who I was talking about.
“He know you coming?” Her voice had taken on a more respectful tone.
“No, ma’am.”
“Wait over there.” She pointed to another line.
It felt like I waited forever. A woman was turned away and wound up screaming obscenities at the officers. They had to threaten to ban her from visiting again if she didn’t behave. That’s when I learned there was only one bus and it waited outside until visiting hours were over. I wondered if I would be in her shoes in a minute. Who knew how many people had come to visit men they had been told were their father? I only had my mother’s word, and since she’d lied to me about my father my whole life I suddenly didn’t know if I could even trust it.
“Gabrielle Davenport!” another guard called out. I went over and he led me through a series of heavy, clanging steel doors until I was in what looked like a public school cafeteria. “Wait here!”
He left the room, but there were a few other officers guarding the prisoners. Mostly women and children sat on metal picnic tables visiting inmates all around the room. People kept buying things out of the vending machine against the back wall. Just the sight of food reminded me that I hadn’t eaten yet. Even though it was only eight o’clock, I’d already been up for five hours. I glanced all around the room until I saw the door where the inmates were being led through. The door opened and a tall, imposing man with a short haircut and a manicured beard entered. His eyes took in the entire scope of the room, eventually coming to rest on me. With a few strides he stood across from me.
“Sit.” It sounded like a command and I knew to follow it. This wasn’t a man used to his orders being disobeyed. He studied me before saying anything more. Finally he spoke.
“So she kept you.” His words shocked me.
“You knew about me?”
“I knew that your mother was pregnant. I didn’t know that she hadn’t gone through with the abortion.”
“Abortion! Sorry I wasted your time.” I started to stand up but he grabbed my hand.
“That was her idea. I wanted her to keep our baby.”
“You did?” I relaxed down in my seat.
“Yes. I did, but your mother hated my life. She didn’t want you anywhere near it. That’s why she lied, because she knew if she told me that I had a child I would have never abandoned her or you.”
“But how do you even know that I’m your daughter? Maybe I belong to some other man.”
He burst out laughing. “Did you know your mother? She wasn’t like that. Besides you look just like my mother did at your age.”
“I do?”
“Yes. So your mother must have told you about me?”
“No, she never said anything. My Aunt Kim told me a few days ago.”
“And Evelyn?” The look on my face must have told him everything he needed to know. “What happened?” He didn’t hide the hurt in his eyes.
“Cancer. She died three weeks ago.” I couldn’t believe it was that recent. It seemed so long ago with everything that had happened.
“Who’s taking care of you? You must be, what, sixteen? No, you’re seventeen.”
“And a half. I live with my Aunt Kim at Cumberland housing projects.”
“Your mother would not have wanted that. She didn’t want you near that place.”
“I’m graduating in May and then I’m off to college. It’s not that long.”
“College? You’re going to college?” He started grinning like a proud father. “Where you going?”
“Harvard if I can work it out. My scholarship doesn’t cover it all but my dean is helping me look into some grants.”
“Harvard? Your mother did a real good job with you. Really good. She must have been proud,” he said softly, sounding equally as proud.
“Yeah, she was.”
“You need anything? Anything?”
“No, I just wanted to see you. To . . . I don’t know. With my mother gone I guess I . . .”
“I’m glad you came.”
“Why did you see me? You didn’t know. Do you get a lot of visitors claiming to be your children?”
“No, you’re the first. I did hear there was some girl in the Cumberland claiming she was my child. It made me nervous because I was really careful. I made a point to be careful not to have no baby mamas. I figured anybody bold enough to lie to me deserved a chance to do it to my face. I never thought I’d actually have a child.”
“And now you do,” I added.
He leaned in and lowered his voice. “I am your father. You are my child, Gabrielle, and that means that you are under my protection. Is there anyone who needs to be dealt with?” His voice took on a dark, ominous tone.
“No, I’m okay.”
“You sure?”
I nodded. For a second I thought about Preston, but then I realized how much it would hurt my aunt and I let it go.
We talked and caught up for the next almost five hours. I learned about his childhood and how he and my mother met and fell in love in ninth grade. He told me about his family, most of his relatives, wound up working for him and many of them ended up behind bars. His mother passed away a couple of years ago and he had been allowed to attend the funeral. I told him about my life before my mother died and about school. The only person I left out was D-Waite. Something told me that he wouldn’t be cool with his daughter dating a drug dealer.
“Five minutes!” a guard yelled out, signaling the end of visiting day.
“Gabrielle, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way because today has been the highlight of my life. But, I don’t ever want you to come back here.”
“But—” I started to protest before he interrupted me.
“It’s not that I don’t care or that I don’t want to see you. I do, but not inside these walls. You don’t belong inside here. Give me your phone number.”
I told him the number with tears stinging my eyes. “Aren’t you gonna write it down?” I worried.
“I got it. It’s the most important number I know.” He brushed away my tears with his hand. “I’m gonna have someone contact you. His name is Bruce. If you ever need me I want you to go through him. He’s safe.”
“Will I ever see you again?”
“I hope so. I could be out in seven. We’ll see.”
“Can I write you?”
“Yes, but just know that these people read everything. Be careful what you put down in writing and don’t worry about anything. You’ll be taken care of.”
“But I’m fine.”
“I know, but you’re also my child.” He stood up and I did the same. For a moment neither of us knew how to react. Finally I went to him and threw my arms around him. I realized that this may be the only chance I may ever get to hug my father so I had to take it. A sigh of relief left my lips when he wrapped his arms around me.
“Thompson!” the guard called out in warning, but I noticed that he used a different tone than I’d heard him use for the other inmates. This one was tinged in respect and apology. Big John turned and smiled as he walked out of the visiting room.
In the line for the bus I saw the woman who had spoken to me earlier. “It must have gone good with your father. You look happy.”
“Yeah, it did.”
“I bet you’re glad you took a chance and came to visit him.”
“Yes, I am.” I grinned. Maybe my life was actually going to be all right.