Like a Boss Read online

  "It's time, inmate" the tall one said. They grabbed him up and handcuffed him

  When he got to the hallway, the short one talked to the tall one in an almost inaudible voice. The tall one nodded and then left.

  He saw so many inmates walking past him with most of them sagging. They soon stopped walking around and fixed their gaze to the new demon from Hades.

  "Move it, inmate" the short one said pushing him forward. Cyrus gave the inmates gaping at him a stern 'don't-fuck-with-me' kind of face and started walking forward. He didn't want the same thing which happened to him the first time to happen again. This was his time to be his own boss.

  They took him to a room where they removed his handcuffs, the tall warden came bringing bed sheet and other items and handed it over to Cyrus. He was asked to change his jumpsuit to a new one given to him.

  And then they proceeded to take him to his cell. Feeling grateful for life and at the opportunity for a second chance, he led the way, when they got to a particular one, the short warden tugged his arm and signaled him in and left.

  Inside his new cell, he met a young black inmate who looked to be in his early twenties. Cyrus sighed; at least he'd have a peace of mind for the meantime

  "Yo, what's good?" The young inmate said, readjusting his body position on the lower bunk reading a book "You new here, ain't ya?"

  Curtis didn't look in his face as he made motion to spread the white cotton sheet on his bed "Naah"

  "Daah, nigga you lying. You're on some new peels, man" the guy gave a smug face as touching Cyrus' crispy new orange jumpsuit. "See I can teach you the basics here -"

  Cyrus held his arm firmly a quick move and bent his head toward the guy’s, to make him cower. "Said ain't new here, nigga" grinding his teeth, he then tossed his hand away fixing on him a power gaze.

  "Alright alright" the guy said, cowering as he expected.

  He continued with the laying of his sheet and after he was done, his climbed his allocated bed space on the upper bunk and slept in.

  "Yo, wake up. It's time for breakfast"

  Those words kept on repeating in his dream. He woke up hazily to see the same guy tapping his left foot. The guy who was obviously scared of what his reaction would be kept at a distance while tappingCyrus' left foot.

  Cyrus woke up finally, rubbing his face. He could hear the movements in the hallway, metal doors were being opened and the inmates were obviously moving in cliques to the dining hall. Without a word, he jumped down from his bunk and

  followed the guy.

  The prison's dining hall was much bigger than the one in Tampa, but it was built with the same architectural design. He glanced at the wall clock

  7:15am

  Gosh. So late, he thought. He picked a tray and joined the queue with the guy standing in his front. He noticed all eyes were on him like he was some kind of monster. What could be wrong with him? But whatever it was about him that made them clear out of the way for him as he walked, it was a welcome development for him and so he didn't mind, he maintained a straight face. As he got served, he followed the guy to sit somewhere close to the exit door.

  "Where am i?" He asked the guy in a husky voice as they sat.

  The guy stared at him, obviously surprised "And you say you ain't new -"

  Cyrus gave him a warning look. He comported himself "You're in the BOP" he said as he scooped a mouthful of rice.

  "What does that mean?" Cyrus asked him. Grains of rice dripped from the guy's mouth as he stared in amazement at Cyrus who in turn raised his eyebrow.

  "Jesus fucking Christ!" He exclaimed, rolling his eyes “Nigga you're in Federal

  Prisons, Tallahassee"

  Cyrus kept a straight face. Tallahasee? Fuck no! He felt uneasy to ask the second question. He finally had the nerve "...and what day of the week is it today?"

  "Tuesday, February second" a voice said. They both turned to see who it was. The guy who was sitting next to they had been there all along that they didn't even notice him, his bloodshot eyes shone as he grinned. There were skid marks and tattoos all over his hands; he was obviously a drug addict.

  "I'm Franklin Wales Jnr, but you can call me Frankie" he said extending his arms to Cyrus for a handshake

  Cyrus could tell from his masculine physique and daring face that he was a real thug; he looked it. Cyrus shook him firmly so as to etch in him a solid impression. "February 2nd you say?"

  "Yep.I saw you the night you was taken to the solitary" Frankie turned his face towards Cyrus' cell mate who had his mouth agape all the while. "Yo Blair, your friend here was placed on some diesel therapy"

  Still agape, Blair turned his focus away from Frankie and then to Cyrus who snapped his jaw tight with his palm. "Eat" Cyrus snapped. He quickly started eating too as though he had forgotten the reason why he was in the hall. Frankie

  laughed

  "What is diesel therapy?" Cyrus asked Frankie

  "Oh well, that's like sending an inmate on a bus trip to a faraway facility as some kind of punishment" Frankie said. He had finished eating already.

  "Oh" Cyrus said

  "What's your name?" Frankie asked

  "Cyrus Gables" he said as he started eating.

  Few days later, Cyrus had blended into the system through the help of his newly-formed clique with Frankie and Blair.

  He later got to realize through Blair that the inmates feared him because they believed he must have been a daredevil for him to betransported all the way from a facility into their solitary confinement for days. So on this particular day during the visiting hours, a warden came to inform Cyrus about some visitors calling for him. Not knowing what to expect, he walked reluctantly to the visiting lounge to see his dad, sister and their family lawyer waiting.

  There was excitement in the air as they hugged each other. They told him of their plans to get him released. After all that, they talked about the health of his ailing

  mother among other things.

  When the visiting time was over, Cyrus hugged them with them promisingto get him out as soon as possible.

  Feeling excited, he went sauntered to meet his Frankie in his cell and inform them about the upcoming development. On getting there, he only saw his cell mate; a Latino he knew as El Cura lying on the bed as usual, fiddling with his rotary; his bible on his chest.

  He never talked with other inmates as he was always minding his own business, reciting bible verses and creeds. As a matter of fact, the prison wardens trusted him. It was a general rumour among the inmates that the guy was a Catholic priest who got implicated by some Colombian drug lords.

  The police did a stakeout in a building in front of his chapel and founded out that casks of illegal liquors and bags of heroine were being hoarded in his chapel. He was subsequently arrested since he was the presiding priest

  Hail Mary full of grace the Lord is with you. Blessed are thou amongst women and blessed is the fruit of your…

  “Hey, where’s Frankie” Cyrus asked him, interrupting him in his prayers

  He pointed at his bible and then to a direction. Still without ceasing, he continued

  his prayers

  Hail Mary mother of God pray for sinners and in the hours of our death…

  Cyrus wondered what he was trying to say. He looked at the bible and then he thought for a moment, the only building that was in the way the priest pointed was the prison’s chapel.

  “Oh!” Cyrus exclaimed. The priest nodded

  What a pious one, Cyrus thought as he left the cell and walked towards the chapel. When he got in the chapel, he heard a voice. No, it was voices of two people moaning. Cyrus wondered what they could be doing.

  In a silent manner, he tiptoed towards their direction. Beyond the curtains of the altar, he could see the silhouette of two peoplefucking each other in a doggy style. Obviously irritated at the sight, Cyrus turned and tiptoed back towards the exit door. When he got outside, he sees Frankie walking towards him.

  “Hey, what’s u
p man” Frankie said extending his hands

  “Yeah I’m good” Cyrus as they shook hands.

  “You look irritated. What’s wrong?” Frankie asked

  Cyrus snorted and scrunched up his nose. Frankie laughed “Guilty” he said. Cyrus

  looked at him in a questionable way. He laughed again

  “I know my body smells like a whole buncha’ weed already. Bought that shit from some middleman over there.Been a while I tasted it, nigga” he said pointing to the back of the chapel.

  Cyrus laughed “I could smell that already. But that’s not what is. Just now, I saw two gays fucking each other over there” he pointed towards the chapel. Frankie squinted and then laughed

  “You don’t like what you see? C’mon, that’s the life here. When you’re in Rome, you do like dem goddamn Romans” he said hitting Cyrus on his shoulder. “I’m also a prison wolf, buddie” he added, smirking

  Cyrus didn’t understand “what’s a prison wolf?” he asked

  Frankie smiled “I heard your family came looking for you” he pocketed his hands in his jumpsuit as they started walking towards the basketball court.

  The next day was a Saturday and so it was filled with a lot of activities. First of all, the inmates were to tidy up the surroundings and all. And so it gave them the privilege to stay outside their cells longer than usual. After the whole sanitation, the inmates were allowed to engage themselves in sport activities and other leisure activities. Cyrus and Frankie were just leaving the gym.

  “And now that you’re leaving tomorrow, what are you gonna do outside these walls?” Frankie asked Cyrus who looked excited.

  “Honestly, I don’t know man” Cyrus said shrugging his shoulders as they strolled. There were inmates playing basketball while others were in cliques discussing.

  “Perhaps I should link you up with my niggas on the outside. They could help you get started with life you know”Frankie said

  “I wouldn’t mind, bruh”. The basketball flew over the wire mesh that guarded the basketball court and Cyrus had caught it just in time. He jumped a bit as he threw it backin the manner of a player into the waiting hands of an inmate in the court who then gave Cyrus thumbs up.

  “Okay. I’ll hook you up, dawg” Frankie said

  “Thanks buddy” Cyrus said as they hugged each other.

  Monday morning,

  It was time to leave, Cyrus bid hisfriends farewell and followed a prison official into a place where he was asked to sign some papers in which he did.He was then given his clothes to change in. After that, he left there and walked into the reception lounge where he was received into the arms of his loving sister. She hugged him so tight, with teardrops falling freely down her cheeks. His dad and lawyer were also there, beaming with smiles.

  “I missed you brother” Jessica exclaimed. She held his cheeks and drew them taut.

  “Ouch” he flinched

  “Look at you, you’re now lean” she cried as she held his shoulders to turn him around in a clockwise direction. She smacked his ass “God knows you need to be placed on a healthy diet”.

  He flinched and laughed. “How’s my baby. I hope she’s kicking” he bent over his body and placed his head near her tummy in orderto listen to the movement of the developing foetus.

  “Hold on, how you know it will be a she?” she asked him as she wiped her face with the back of her hand.

  Cyrus shrugged “I’ve always wanted a god-daughter”. Jessica laughed

  “Boy, what’s up with ya?” his dad called out

  “Hi pop” he said as he hugged his dad who had been watching the whole drama all along.

  He shook the hands of their family lawyer “Thanks for coming through”

  “You’re welcome, man” the lawyer reached for his briefcase “Ladies and gentlemen, shall we?” he beckoned to themand together, they exited the building.

  Wednesday

  23 Lawhon Rd, Woodville

  Cyrus took an occasional glance at the piece of paper he held and then squeezed it back into the pocket of his tweed jacket and then crossed his legs. He was on the train to Tallahassee to meet Frankie’s friends. Frankie had given him the paper so he could locate the residence.Some minutes later, the train stopped at Tallahassee terminal. Cyrus got offand then took a cab to the address.

  After sometime, he alighted from the cab when it pulled over at his destination. He glanced at the storey-building in front of him as the taxi cab zoomed off. There were other buildings in the area. He noticed some quick movements in the window. He smiled, these niggas are security conscious, he thought.

  Ready to make the first good impression, he readjusted his belt and walked towards building. He could hear the sound of a jazz trumpet blaring from a stereo in the building

  “Don’t move” the voice thundered as he was about to knock on the door. Cyrus halted in his steps.

  “What brings you here?” the voice asked. Cyrus knew it was coming from the window.

  “Yo I came to visit Wale” Cyrus replied

  The voice wheezed “who’s Wale?”

  “Sammie Lee,Yo see I know it’s complicated yeah but I just got out of prison, man. I have a message from Frankie” Cyrus said

  There was silence “Who’s Frankie?” the voice demanded

  “Oh man” Cyrus smacked his hands on his sides “Don’t play the peekaboo game with this nigga. He gave me this address on a piece of paper. I’m for real man”

  There was another silence “read out what’s on the other back of the paper”

  Cyrus took out the piece of paper and checked the back “C-119” he called out the code. He could hear the guy wheezing again but he didn’t say anything. After some seconds, he heard the sounds of a heavy bolt sliding back and the rustle of a key opening the door. Standing right in front him was a huge muscular guy with tattoo drawn all over his light-skinned and naked torso. He wore an eye patch across his left eye; the other eye was bloodshot just like Frankie’s. Cyrus guessed he was the sentinel

  “Come on in” he said, moving out of the way. He seemed to be hiding something in his right hand as he raised it up above the doorpost, inadvertently revealing thick undergrowth in his armpit. Taking a deep breath, Cyrus walked in.

  The room which had a three closed doors was dark and empty; it smelled marijuana. He barely couldhear the instantly recognizable gravelly voice of Louis Armstrong singing his jazz rendition of ’When Your Lover Has Gone’ enjoying amble airplay in one of the rooms in the building.Cyrus took a sneak peek at what he was trying to hide as he tried to bolt the door. In his right hand was a revolver

  “Hands up” he said, dropping the weapon on the stool positioned near the window.

  Cyrus raised his hands up. He then proceeded to search him thoroughly.

  Cyrus flinched when the guy’s hand got to the fly of his denim “Whoa hold on, that’s my dick you’re holding there”

  “Oh okay”

  The guy stood up and heaved after he was done with the thorough search. “Sorry about that, I thought that was some kind of snaky weapon”