The Cut: A Prison Story

“Hi Mom,” I mouthed through the Plexiglas that separated us. She heard me through the receiver on the other side.

“Hey baby. You look good. You look like you get bigger each time I come back here,” she smiled.

I tried to hold it together. I hated it. It broke my heart that my mother had to step foot in a place like this much less see me like this. My mom had been through so much in her life.

“Everyone at home misses you. Things are like they were when you left.”

Yeah, I thought to myself. If they miss me so damn much, why don’t they ever come to see me?

“Mom,” I asked aloud instead. “Did you remember to mail off the money for my commissary.”

Commissary is the name of the items we can purchase like cigarettes and hair grease and other things that aren’t mandatorily given out.

“Yes, baby, I already sent it off.”

I could see the pain in her face. I knew she was doing without just to send me that money. “Momma, I promise to pay it all back when I get out.”

“Momma is not worried about that. Just take care of yourself and come home safe, you hear.”

“Yeah, momma,” I sighed. “I’ll be eligible for parole in about eight months.”

The smile that covered her face now brought back the sunshine. “You know you’re all that I got.”

“Times up.” The prison guard barked.

“Call me when you can baby,” Momma said.

And with that, Momma left only for the noise and the misery of prison, which had somehow been suspended, came rushing in on me like an unexpected gale just before a storm.

I marched back to my cell. The world heavy on my mind. I had to get out of here, and every day etched in eternity.

Seeing a bathroom, I realized I had to take a piss. I didn’t want to use the bathroom nearby because it was not a part of my POD.

“Fuck it. I’ll use it any goddamn way.” I pushed the door open.

There were several guys in there I didn’t recognize. Some leaning against the wall. One guy was shitting while another was chewing on a piece of straw, hand between his legs.

The air was hot and musty in the latrine. I noticed moisture on the cinderblock wall as I walked in. Pissing as fast as I could, I tried to get the hell out of there fast! My heart was racing as I made my way back to the door.

“Bathroom check,” a dark-skinned, dirty-looking nigga mumbled as he blocked the door.

“Oh damn, my bad. Let me go get some change. I’ll come right back and pay you, aiight?” I remained calm showing no fear.

“Nah, you give us what’s in your pockets. We know you’re not of this POD.”

“I don’t have anything on me, man. Just let me go get the money G.”

“Nah, G. That means you gonna have to pay some other way today.”

The other inmates started to surround me, but then they all laughed and went back to what they were doing. The guy shitting looked me dead in my face as he wiped his ass, but he never moved. And I never moved so fast in my life! I could still here them laughing as I made my way back to my cell.

When I got back to my cell, I noticed Dirk was gone and so were his belongings.

“Where’s Dirk?” I asked Black, pretended like it didn’t really matter.

“He’s been placed on lockdown for fighting, yo. He ain’t ever coming back to this POD again. Our new cell buddy just stepped out, but he’ll be back.”

I had to take a walk. Dirk was close to me and that shit hurt in a weird way.

“What’s wrong, kid?” A somewhat mature voice inquired.

I looked up. It was a brotha I never seen before. He looked about 35. He had brown skin, no facial hair, and a close-cropped haircut. The gray sweatsuit he had on wasn’t hiding the body beneath. His shoulders were broad, and I could see the kindness in his face. When he looked at me it was like he looked straight through me, like I had nothing to cover me.

“My name is Larry.”

“Niggas call me T, but my real name is Antonio.”

“Aiight, T. I just got stationed here. Let’s kick over to the library where it’s quiet and we can rap. You look like you just lost your best friend, my brotha.”

Talking to Larry was the best thing that could’ve happened to me since I got here. He knew a lot. He seemed very well informed about how to survive prison life.

Larry was a Muslim. He said becoming a Muslim would stop other guys from attacking me. I told him I would have to think about it. “T, I really like you man. I know you said you’ve been violated terribly since being up in here, but could you share yourself with me?”

I was shocked.

My first impulse was to refresh him on his religious beliefs. I didn’t because I liked him, and I knew making him feel good would make me feel good, too.

We got up. We went to the back of the library into one of the back aisles and I pulled down my pants. He pulled out a condom and some lubricant that was given out at our prison. I turned around while he prepared himself.

The first touch of his warm hands against my leg and the feel of his big hairy chest against my back caused my dick to get on brick. He gently eased his dick into my ass. It felt good. Larry didn’t have a big dick, but because he seemed caring, I was more turned on than any other time before. I squeezed my ass and moved back and forth against him. I could hear him begin to breathe deeply. As my ass got hotter from the friction, Larry moaned, and I grabbed himfrom behind to pull him closer into me. He grunted and kissed the back of my neck as I came up.

Afterwards, we quickly got dressed and went our separate ways.

We make license plates in prison. A job that doesn’t pay shit, but it’s better than nothing. Me and a nigga named Geronimo was beefing because that nigga wanted me to give him a cigarette. For real, cigarettes are like gold in prison and a carton can be used to pay just about any prison debt. I told that motherfucker, “Hell, no!” and he copped an attitude and let me know it was sho’ nuff on!