I way laying on a cold cement slab, that was meant to serve as my bed. My supposed dinner, a dry bologna sandwich and a beat up green apple, lay on the floor where I’d thrown it. I was in a cell; with no Monique, no baby, and no money. My parole violation was an afterthought. The main thing on my mind was vengeance. Suddenly my vengeful thoughts were interrupted, by the mechanical sound of my cell door banging open. The jailer that stepped in front of my door was yes; a long haired, thick, redbone. Her Pixie braids and arched eyebrows looked freshly done. I knew her face but couldn’t place it. Then I remembered. I’d seen her in the clubs. Minus, the correctional officer uniform. Her name tag read Jones.
“You have an attorney visit Mr. Banks.” She leaned in the door and called out to me. I was almost certain it was Lauryn, as I jumped off my bed like it was on fire and made a beeline to the door. I knew that if there was any light being shed into who had done this shit to me, Lauryn would know. The not knowing was eating me alive. Stopping at the room door, I paused for a second to admire the Tinkerbell tattoo on Ms. redone Jones’ forearm. Now I needed to pass, but Jones seemed to be making no real attempt to step out of my way. “I’m sorry about your girlfriend Banks,” she said to me, as I took notice of her dropping, the “Mr.” before my name this time. “If you need anything just let me know. That’s my girl Meeka…. I mean, Ms. Walters in the control booth. We watch each other’s back.” Her words seemed bluntly suggestive as she stepped aside and smiled up at me with a school girl grin. Hell, if not for the tremendous amount of grief I was carrying, I might have been tempted to give Ms. Jones exactly what she was looking for. Now just wasn’t the time. I was led into the hallway and up a flight of stairs to an attorney booth. Jones unlocked the heavy door and let me into the room. There a plexiglass, non-contact window that separated inmate and attorney, and a cold steel sitting stool, that quickly gave me a jolting reminder of what my reality was. “Knock on the door when you’re finished,” Ms. Jones smiled again. The look in her eyes was unmistakable. Jones locked the door behind me, and I took a seat on cold steel waiting for Lauryn to enter. A minute a two later, a middle-aged man in an expensive blue suit, walked into the door on the other side of the plexiglass window and took a seat right in front of me. His look reminded me, of one of the Indian characters from the movie Slumdog Millionaire.
“Hello Theodore.” The man spoke my name with confidence.
“Who the fuck, are you?” I was already sick of these bullshit ass detectives.
“I’m a friend of a friend. I’ve brought good news.”
This motherfucker must be crazy! There WAS NO GOOD NEWS on a day like today! And I was not in the mood for games! “Man, state yo business!” I jumped to my feet, ready to knock to be let out.
“Alright Theodore. I can understand your impatience. Tika asked me to come and see you.” I heard his words, and they froze me instantly.
“Who? What did you say?”
“Tika. A friend of yours and mine.” He spoke calmly.
“She’s here?”
“No. Her exact whereabouts often elude me. Tika is where Tika is.”
“So, who are you? Her dude?”
“No Theodore. Although I do love her very much. I would move heaven and earth just to see her smile.” This shit is preposterous! I thought to myself. This guy, this…. Slumdog Millionaire, that I’d never seen a day in my life, was telling me that Tika, my direct heartbeat into the sorrow of my trap life, was near! “I can understand your confusion Theodore, but I myself owe you one favor. I do not know you, only of you, but Tika knows us both. That is the sole reason that I am here. You have a situation that needs addressing.”
“You owe me a favor? Look homeboy, if you coming at me on some police shit, I don’t know why the fuck yall wasting “our” time! I’m not giving no favors and I don’t wan’t none given. So, go talk to one of them other lames! I aint the one!” I told him as I stood to leave. My grief held no patience for this bullshit. It shocked the shit outta me when Slumdog Millionaire laughed so hard he almost fell outta his chair! What the fuck?
“No, no Theodore. You’ve got it all wrong. I’ll make this short and sweet because I have to get back to work. You do know the man formerly known as Big Joe, don’t you?” Suddenly my body stiffened.
“Nah. Can’t say that I do.”
“He’s dead. I only knew “of him” also. He murdered my nephew and his fiancé, then robbed my business after that. He bragged about killing my only sisters, only son. I am a patient man. I will admit, that I myself was planning the death of my nephew’s murderer, before his untimely demise.”
“Man, what the fuck is you talking about! I don’t know shit about no plot!” I spoke loudly as I looked up at the camera in the corner.
“They can see us, but they can’t hear us. Lawyer/client confidentiality and all that good stuff.” Slumdog laughed again.
“So, you a lawyer?”
“No. But I know a good one. I suggest you come speak with me when you’re released. I won’t consider this the one favor I owe you. Getting you out of this is for Tika. You’ve suffered a great loss. Learn from it.”
“So exactly what the hell is you saying? My bond is $100,000 cash sir. In case you didn’t know.” I couldn’t help but to be sarcastic.
“No worries. All charges will be dismissed in the morning. You’ll be free.”
“What! Yeah okay.” I walked to the door preparing to knock for Ms. Jones. Now I knew this really “was” some bullshit.
“As I’ve said Theodore, I can understand your confusion. Tika has explained the situation to me. You deserve answers that I’m almost certain she will try her best to provide. Be kind to her. And patient.”
“So, in the morning I’m going to be set free huh? You a root doctor or something?” I folded my arms and leaned against the door, skepticism written all over my face.
“No nothing like that. I’m simply a man who knows other men. He stood with a smile. “You’re going to have to keep a low profile though. They’ll be watching.”
“Watching? Who’s gonna be watching? The police?”
“Possibly. More than likely, the person, or persons responsible for robbing you and murdering your fiancé as well.”
“Fiance?” Suspicion shot through me! “I didn’t tell you I was engaged.”
“Theodore, I am a man of many resources. I will see you tomorrow.” Once again Slumdog spoke calmly before standing, and exiting the room. The million and one questions that I wanted to ask, would just have to wait.