I hated coming to Rikers Island, but I had to. Roscoe called me and requested to see and speak to me. He had some information for me. But he didn’t want to say over the phone. I understood. You can’t say too much on a prison phone.
So the following week, I jumped on the bus to Rikers. It was crowded with women. Christmas was only a few days away. I had on a pair of tight Baby Phat jeans, a sweater, and a brown leather coat. I knew Roscoe had to know about Shy already. The whole hood knew Shy was on crack and fuckin’ James. And the news would reach Roscoe shortly. I knew Roscoe wanted to hear from me personally about his woman being a druggy.
I was nervous when the bus pulled up to the visiting center. I was the last one to get off the bus. I knew the routine, it was well-known to me, I dated men who had been behind these walls one too many times. And Cream was one of ’em. It took me about forty minutes to actually see Roscoe. I sat in the visiting hall, quiet as a mouse, my legs crossed, waiting patiently. I caught a few eyes looking at me, mostly men, who were probably fantasizing about me being naked.
Roscoe finally came out. He was in line with three other men, all who were wearing gray prison jumpsuits with DOC printed on the back. He had on white tube socks with brown sandals. He had changed a bit. He had a scruffy beard and his braids needed to be done. He gave me a faint smile as he walked toward me. I flashed a quick smile back.
“Hey, Camille,” he greeted me.
I stood up and gave him a hug. “Hey, Roscoe. I came like you asked. What’s on your mind?”
He took a seat across from me and glanced around the room. He gave an inmate a head nod, then turned back and looked at me.
“I got a lot of shit on my mind, Camille. I heard about my baby, Shy—” He paused; I guess he started thinking about Shy’s fucked-up predicament. He then rubbed his scruffy beard and continued. “You know, you trust niggas to handle shit for you while you locked down. But dis game is grimy. You can’t trust anyone. I thought Shy had my back, and my boy turned her out.”
“Roscoe, I can help Shy. She’s not herself,” I said.
“She’s dead to me, Camille. Fuck her! What’s done is done. In here, you see who your real friends are. You’re good peoples, Camille. Thanks for coming down here,” he said.
“What’s so important that you made me come here to see you in person?”
“I’ve done a lot of fucked-up shit in my life, yo. A lot of crazy shit. I know who set me up, Camille. He a hating-ass nigga. Yo, I should have seen it coming,” he said in a low tone.
“James, right?”
“He kept telling me about this new connect for a minute now. But I wasn’t buying it. I was comfortable wit’ the niggas I was dealing with. But James kept coming at me, sayin’ we ain’t gotta fuck wit’ the Dominicans anymore. He wanted to scratch them out, and put me on to these Haitians that could get us a better price. I’m a loyal client to my connect. But James, he a greedy fuck. He don’t give a fuck about nothin’. He knew he couldn’t deal wit’ the Haitians unless I approved, and he knew it wasn’t happenin’. So the nigga tried to have me killed the night I got arrested for murder. He had to cut a deal with the Haitians, and I don’t trust them niggas.”
I was definitely listening, but I knew that there was more to the story. Roscoe didn’t just call me up here to tell me about how grimy James was. He had something planned.
“Camille, in Jade’s crib, under her bed you’ll find a .357 hidden under a loose floorboard,” he told me.
“A .357?”
“It’s James’s gun, and it got bodies on it. He’s too stupid to get rid of it because it was his brother’s gun, and his first gun. He loves that gun,” he whispered to me. I knew he had to be careful, because I knew where he was going with this. And if I was right, he was about to snitch.
He continued: “But one particular body on that gun you’ll be interested in hearing about. It happened six years ago at a party. We had beef wit’ this nigga on the block. Yo, he wouldn’t stop running his mouth about him being on the come up and getting down with Kahlil and his crew. He thought he was a badass. He robbed James and me one day of five large, and thought he couldn’t be touched. So one night, we followed him to Kahlil’s party. He came out wit’ his girl; they were hugged up on each other tight and didn’t even notice us watching them. They went up into this Explorer to fuck, so that’s when we made our move.”
Ohmygod, I thought. I started to remember what he was telling me. It was the night Raheem was killed. I was there.
“We pulled Raheem and his girl out of the truck and beat on him. His girl came charging at us, so I punched her in her jaw and dropped her to the ground. Then James fired two shots into her boyfriend. We didn’t even stick around. We bounced.”
“Roscoe, ohmygod—”
He continued, “Yo, I didn’t even know it was Shy when I met her. When I first saw her, I kept telling myself, ‘Yo, home-gurl look so fuckin’ familiar.’ But I couldn’t place her face. She was young back then. She was beautiful. I found out it was her when I saw a picture of her and Raheem. I felt bad for her, so I promised myself that I would look out for her and take care of her. But I ended up in here. Camille, I love Shy; don’t get me wrong. I wanted the best for her. I owe it to her. I helped take her boyfriend’s life right in front of her. I knew that fucked her up. So I’m giving you the gun. It got James’s prints on it and everything. He don’t move the gun. It stays hidden under Jade’s bed. You do what you gotta do, Camille. I’m sorry that I had to tell you this. And tell Shy I’m sorry,” he said. He then got up and instructed the CO that his visit was over.
I was shocked. I watched Roscoe leave. He never looked back at me. I guess he figured that this chapter of his life was over, why look back.
Two days later, Cream and I went out to eat. I had to reluctantly break the news to Cream that I couldn’t make it out to Cali with him. What Roscoe had told me was a bombshell. I didn’t know if I should tell Cream about it first, or just go straight to the police with the information. I knew that if I went to the police, it would implicate Roscoe. Maybe he wanted to implicate himself, but why? Maybe it was his debt being paid to Shy for helping take Raheem’s life. I figured if he was going down, then he was going to bring James down with him. I wanted James to go down though, that’s for sure.
“What you mean, you’re not comin’ out to Cali wit’ me?” Cream barked. We were at BBQ’s on Long Island, and I talked to him about not being able to leave with him.
“There’s so much goin’ on right now, Cream. I don’t know where to begin,” I tried to explain.
“So you gonna sit here and worry about other people problems, Camille. What about you? I’m leavin’ in a few weeks.”
“Cream, I’m sorry,” I humbly said to him.
“Nah, I’m the one sorry. Here I am, tryin’ to look out fo’ you, and you’re dissin’ me fo’ what, Camille? I thought you were ready to move on wit’ your life. Obviously, I was wrong.”
“Baby . . . listen—,” I began to say, but Cream cut me short.
“Nah, I wanna be wit’ you and spend some time in Cali wit’ you by my side. I wanna help build your career out there, and get you away from the bullshit out here. But clearly, your fuckin’ friends and the drama they get themselves into comes first, right?”
“It’s not even like that,” I countered.
“Whatever, Camille,” Cream said, rising from his seat. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a wad of cash, and peeled off a C-note for the bill, dropping the cash on the table. “I’m out. You can stay if you want.”
He began walking off as I continued to sit there. He took that well, I thought, trying to lighten my mood. On the real, if Cream was some next nigga, I would have told him to go fuck himself. But Cream lucky he was Cream, and he didn’t hear my mouth, and I ain’t embarrass him in this bitch. It was sad to admit, but I love that nigga. I loved him more than anyone else I ever dated—male or female. He had attitude, charm, looks, and money. And he didn’t hesitate to put me in my place when he knew I was wrong, or let me know what he felt was best for me. A lot of niggas are intimidated by me—but Cream, if I got loud and tried to embarrass him, he’ll get loud and return the same attitude toward me. I like that. I need a nigga who’s able to hold me down, and knows how to handle shit. But he never took it too far when he got loud, like being disrespectful and trying to put his hands on me. He had respect for me since the day we met.
I sat there for a few more seconds, thinking this nigga actually just walked out on me, on some attitude shit. Yo, I had to chuckle. Muthafucka. He really wanted me out in Cali with him. I knew he wasn’t pussy-whipped. I’ve been around a lot of niggas who got strung up on my pussy, but Cream, I didn’t know if I wanted to choke him or fuck him.
Eventually, I got up out of my seat and followed Cream out. “Keep the change,” I told our waitress as I brushed by her.
When I stepped outside, Cream was already in his ride with the lights on and the engine idling. I dashed up to the passenger side, jumped in, and spat, “Nigga, you was goin’ to leave me out here!”
He shouted, “Hurry your ass up, then!”
“Fuck you!” I said softly.
“Camille, listen. I never said this to any woman in my life, but I’m sayin’ it now.” He stared into my eyes. “On the real, I love you, and I wanna be with you. So what do I gotta do to help you change your mind? What’s preventin’ you from comin’ to Cali wit’ me?”
I thought about it, and my major concern that was keeping me rooted in NY was James and his beef with Jade and having my girl Shy strung out on the pipe. I wanted my revenge on that nigga. I was spiteful. He had someone attack me while I was in the elevator, and I couldn’t leave for California without that nigga getting what was owed to him. I didn’t tell Cream about my attack, or Jade and Shy. I let it be for now, but I knew something had to be done about him.
“Cream, I got unfinished business to take care of before I leave,” I stated.
“Like what? You got beef wit’ someone?”
I knew if I told Cream, he was going to handle it. And I knew his way of handling things. But I love Cream, and I didn’t want him getting into trouble over me, and risk getting himself locked up, and losing everything he’d worked so hard to build. I couldn’t have that on my conscience. He had his career, his future to look forward to. Cream still did dirt, but putting down that murder game, his hands been clean for years now, I think.
“Talk to me, Camille. Let me know what’s up. Don’t shut me out. You know I hate that shit,” he said. He pulled out of the parking lot and headed home.
My cell started ringing, and I picked up. “Hello.” But no one answered. “Hello,” I repeated. For a minute, I thought I heard someone crying, but then the caller hung up.
“Who was that? Cream asked.
“Don’t know. No one said a word.”
Cream glanced at me. I knew he was still upset. “I’m not leaving without you, Camille,” he said.
“What? Nah, Cream, this is your future. This is what you looked forward to. This is what you always wanted. You can’t throw that away. You know I’m gonna love you regardless if you live in Cali or live on the edge of the fuckin’ earth. Do you, Cream?”
“Camille, if you don’t tell me what’s up, then I’m stayin’. I’m gonna tell you right now: I ain’t gonna be able to function out in Cali, ’cause I’m gonna be worryin’ about your ass out here in NY. . . . If you were just some next ho, fine. But this is you, Camille. I got too much love fo’ you to leave you behind so easily.”
I sighed. Damn.
I knew I had to say something. He wasn’t going to fuck up his career because of my bullshit and my problems. I wasn’t having that. So I looked over at Cream, and said, “I got beef wit’ this one nigga.”