Survival
“Acevedo, shut up! You got a visit!” the officer bellowed.
Santiago smiled to himself, because in his mind it could only be one person.
Eva.
He had been trying to call Eva but got no answer. He hadn’t seen her since the night he got shot and arrested, so he worried that the ordeal may have left her traumatized.
“Yo, play my game for me,” he told a dude standing near.
The dude took the cards from Santiago, who made his way to the door. He pulled his jumpsuit up from being bunched around his waist to up on his shoulders.
As soon as he was led out, Tariq got up and headed straight for the phones. He picked up the receiver, unballed a piece of paper he had palmed in his hand, and dialed the written number.
She accepted the collect call once she heard who it was. “I see you thought about my offer,” Melissa remarked, as soon as the call connected.
“Yeah, yeah, baby. I think about you all the time.” He smiled into the phone, trying to give the impression he was talking to a girlfriend.
Melissa snickered. “Next, I guess you’ll want to know what I’m wearing.”
“That would be nice.”
“Handcuffs. But I promise not to use ‘em on you if you’re ready to deal.”
Tariq looked around nervously, stomach twisting over what he was about to do. Never did he think he’d even contemplate being a snitch, but his father’s rejection both hurt and scared him. It was ironic that the very reason Santiago didn’t tolerate addicts was because of what Tariq was contemplating doing. But Tariq didn’t see the irony. He only saw survival.
“Time’s ticking. You know how quick these calls are,” she reminded him.
“Yeah yo, I’m . . . I’m ready.”
“Good choice.”
“But not while I’m in here,” he added quickly. “Pop got eyes and ears all over.”
“I’ll take care of that.”
“And yo . . . you said—you said you was gonna look out,” Tariq reminded her sheepishly.
The past few nights, he had been tossing and turning, unable to sleep. The monkey was on his back hard. Especially after he thought he smelled somebody on his tier smoking crack in the wee hours. He needed to scratch his itch.
“You’re gonna have to be a real good boy for that, Tariq,” she taunted him, enjoying her power over him.
“Whateva yo, just make it happen,” he gruffed, then hung up and slunk back to his cell.
*****
Santiago had entered the visitation room. It was simply a row of phones on both sides of the room. On the other side of the extra thick Plexiglas there were more phones for the visitors. Everything was in the open. No privacy. Santiago scanned the unfamiliar faces, his heart falling when he didn’t spot Eva waving for him. Instead, a young boy who bore a striking resemblance to the rapper Nas was waving him over. Santiago scowled, then looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was behind him. The young boy pointed at Santiago and waved again. Reluctantly, Santiago walked over and picked up the phone but didn’t sit down.
“Who you?”
“I’m Nazir, yo, a friend of Tariq’s,” he replied.
Santiago clenched and unclenched his jaw. Just hearing his son’s name had him on the edge.
“Yeah well, I don’t know you,” he retorted, then started to hang up.
“It’s Bas, unc,” Nazir said quickly, seeing he was losing Santiago. ”I think he sour.”
Santiago snatched the phone back to his ear. “What the fuck you just say?”
“Man, Bas did—”
Santiago had to fight from spazzing on this little nigguh and letting everyone in his business. “Look here, lil’ nigguh. I don’t know who the fuck you are, but I can damn sure find out! Don’t fuckin’ come at me wit’ no bullshit!”
Nazir didn’t like anybody yelling at him, no matter who they were. His motto was a man only dies once; a coward dies a thousand times. But he bit his tongue because he knew telling Santiago about his man wouldn’t go down easy.
“Ay yo, you think I’d come down here to waste your time and mine for some bullshit? Bas was like a fuckin’ uncle to me, so believe me, I’m fucked up, too!”
Santiago glared at Nazir, and even though Nazir didn’t return the hard gaze, he definitely didn’t look away.
“Say what you came to say,” Santiago snarled out, after a tense thirty seconds.
“I’m sayin’, you know we on these phones, but feel me, a’ight? So yeah, I was on the block when a rack of nigguhs came through on some Rambo shit. You wit’ me?” Nazir asked.
“I’m listenin.”
“So boom, nigguhs lit shit up like the Fourth. Left everybody leakin’ for real, ground zero. Shit was crazy, but of course them bitch ass nigguhs missed the God.”
Santiago couldn’t help but crack a slight grin.
“I went to the crib and I’m buggin! I’m thinkin’ it was the Roaches,” he said, using the derogatory term for the Rosario family. “So you know I’m ready to go all out! So I hit unc up and tell him what went down. He . . . he ain’t sound right. Wasn’t no type of concern in ‘im; he was calm as fuck—on some, ‘where you at’ type shit. I told ‘im and ain’t think nothin’ of it ‘cause this unc, feel me? Three minutes later, muhfuckas bring it to me at my door! Shit is crazy! How the fuck they know if he ain’t tell ‘em?”
Santiago listened intently, taking in every word. He could definitely see Nazir’s point, but he didn’t start to think until Nazir added, “I don’t know what the fuck is goin’ on! First Murk, then like seven shot callers on the west side, two more on the east. It’s like the fuckin’ Roaches takin’ out our whole team.”
Santiago scowled and leaned forward.
“What did you say?”
“It’s like they—”
“Naw, what about the shot callers?”
“What, you ain’t know? They found like seven of ‘em dead!”
I didn’t push their button, Santiago thought. He knew he needed to talk to Bas, and it couldn’t be on a prison phone.
“A’ight look, give me your number,” Santiago instructed. Once Nazir gave it, Santiago continued. “Expect a call from me soon. And all this you tellin’ me better be official.”
“I’m official, so I don’t spit nothing less,” Nazir shot back.
“We’ll see.” Santiago stood up.
“Ay yo, unc, you heard from Tariq? I been tryin’ to get at him for a minute,” Nazir asked.
“In here.”
“In there?” Nazir echoed, brow furled.
“Yeah.”
Nazir shook his head. Shit didn’t add up. “A’ight.”
“Be expectin’ my call.”
They hung up and went their separate ways. By the time Nazir reached his car, his phone rang. He looked down and didn’t recognize the number. He started not to answer, but when he remembered Santiago’s words he hit answer.
“Yo.”
“This you, Nas?” Cookie asked.
“Yeah.”
“Tariq told me to tell you he on the way to my crib. He said meet him here.”
At first, Nazir couldn’t grasp the situation, but then it hit him. Shorty a snake too. Fuckin’ with them nigguhs from that fake crew, he thought with a cracked, toothy grin.
“Word? Okay, tell him I’m on my way.”
“Okay, I will.”
Nazir knew his assumption was on point. Bas was a straight up Judas.