BURY ME A G, #1 Page 2

  Tiaz’s cellmate was his partner in crime and closest friend, Cameron or Threat as he was called in the streets. He was lying on the top bunk with his hands clasped behind his head.The prison was on lockdown over a riot between the brothers and the Mexicans so they were holed up in their cell together.

  “When was the last time you heard from her?” Threat asked after listening to his road dawg tell his story.

  “‘Bout six months now.” Tiaz answered as he flipped through the tattered magazine.

  “Six months?” Threat raised an eyebrow. He couldn’t believe that long of a time had passed since his then righthand man talked to his main squeeze.

  When Tiaz was out in the streets, he and Ta’shauna hadn’t spent so much as a day apart. Back in the day, if Tiaz wasn’t off scheming on another dollar, he was with Ta’shauna booed up.

  “Yep, six months.” Tiaz rose to his feet wiping his behind. He dropped the toilet paper into the commode and flushed it down. Once he pulled up his boxers, he carried his six foot muscular frame over to the sink and washed his hands under the flowing faucet water. “I called her house and the number was disconnected. I called her mom’s house and she claimed to have not heard or seen her.But that’s bullshit! I tried to hit her up the next day and a recording came on the line saying the subscriber didn’t accept phone calls from correctional facilities. What do you think is going on? You think she’s creeping out on me?” He stared at hisreflection in the mirror watching the water that he’d splashed upon his face run and drip from off of his chin.

  Tiaz rocked a fade and a 5 o’clock shadow. His body was covered in muscles. His form looked chiseled and as solid as steel, like if you’d knock on it a sound would echo. His complexion teetered between pecan brown and bronze depending on the season and the weather.

  Since the age of fourteen, he’d been in and out of correctional facilities. He was a man that preferred to solve his problems from behind the barrel of a gun. He and Threat had been as thick as thieves since elementary school. The pair was almost the exact replica of one another personality wise but physically, they were drastically different.

  Whereas Tiaz was a tall and muscular cat, his partner in crime was short and skinny, with skin as black as ash. He sported a thin mustache and a fade rippled with deep waves. Having the Napoleon complex he was quick to violence, making sure his bite was feared more than his bark.

  Threat didn’t know if he should tell his closest friend what he really thought. He knew Tiaz was in love with Ta’shauna and if he’d gotten the idea in his head that she’d been fucking around on him, it would kill him. Although he was known as a straight up killer in the streets, when he was with Ta’shauna he was as harmless as a bunny rabbit. He worshipped the ground she walked on and treated her like she was the queen of Egypt. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for her. He loved her unconditionally. Hell, his sole reason for being locked up was behind her.

  One day while Ta’shauna was coming out of China Town Express over on Florence and Vermont.A knucklehead,wanting to pull a jack move, punched her in the eye and yanked the gold Rolex chain Tiaz had gotten her for her birthday from around her neck. He took her bracelet and all of the rings on her fingers. He also took the food she’d purchased. She was mortified and went home with a swollen black eye that silently told her man what had occurred.

  “Fuck happened to your face?” Tiaz held her about the chin as he examined her eye.

  “I got robbed coming outta the Chinese food place off of Florence.”

  “By who?”

  “I don’t know who the nigga was.” She admitted teary eyed, a bit shaken up by what had transpired with her hands trembling.

  “Chill, babe, it’s okay.” He embraced her lovingly. “I’ma take care of this nigga fa you, that’s on everything. Now can you remember anything that I can use to identify this fool by? A scar, a tattoo, or something?”

  He watched as she thought about it.

  “He had a tattoo of a pit bull on his neck.”

  “Was it fading?” he asked.

  She nodded yes. “Do you know him?”

  “Mothafucka!” He looked to the floor with his hands on his waistline.

  “Bae, you know who did this to me?”

  “Know ‘em? I’m about to give the nigga his eulogy.Go get my shit.”

  While Ta’shauna went to get his Glock, Tiaz got dressed for the funeral. A black Dickie suit, Chuck Taylors and black sunglasses was his attire. This was his murder gear.

  Click Clack!

  He chambered a round into his head bussa and tucked it at the small of his back. After kissing his lady hard and passionately, he headed out of the house to go on his mission. He knew exactly who the cat was that got at his boo. He knew him from around the way.He was a young hoodlum that went by the name Tim-Dog.

  Tiaz knew exactly where to find him. He rode through the Hoovers and just like he suspected, he spotted him posted up at a Jack in the Box on Manchester and Figueroa. He was chopping it up with some big booty broad. Too distracted to see death creep up on him.

  “Alright, what is it?” Tim-Dog asked, looking down at his cell’s screen ready to punch in old girl’s number.

  “323-759—”

  Bloc! Bloc! Bloc! Bloc!

  A succession of gunshots ripped through the night’s air cutting the conversation short. Tim-Dog’s legs burst with blood looking like busted ketchup packets. He hit the ground in the parking lot hard, dropping his cell phone. The chick he was macking ran off as fast as she could, after kicking off her high heel pumps, screaming at the top of her lungs.

  “Ahhh! Ahhh! Ahhh!” she hollered.

  “Shut up, bitch! Keep pushing ‘fore I blast on yo ass too!” Tiaz’s voice boomed. Setting his sights back on Tim-Dog, he advanced on him, banger pointed at his face.

  “Ahhh, shit, man! My mothafucking legs!” Tim-Doglooked down at his bloody lower half in hysterics as he clutched them. His excruciation was plastered across his face. “Sssssss, Ah, damn!”

  “Your legs are about to be the least of your fucking problems!” Tiaz stomped his legs twice.

  “Arghhh, arghh!” Tim-Dog grimaced before looking up and seeingthe gun trained on him. His eyes widened like a deer caught in head lights when he saw his deviant lifestyle flash before his eyes.

  Tiaz snatched Ta’shauna’s Rolex chain from around his prey’s neck and relieved him of the two bands he had in his pockets.

  “It’s time to pay The Piper, homes.” He pointed that steel back up at his face.

  Tim-Dog squeezed his eyelids closed and clenched his jaws, waiting to feel the hotnesssizzle his brain when God smiled upon his black ass in the form of a police cruiser.

  Urrrp! Urrrp!

  Tiaz reactively darted out in the middle of the street, attempting to flee the scene and got hit by a speeding car. He went over the length of the vehicle and crashed to the asphalt on his back squirming and grimacing. When he peeled his eyelids open two police officers were standing over him with their guns pointed in his face.

  “Shit!” Tiaz groaned. His body was in pain and now he was fucked.

  He took a plea deal for five years and got sent out of state. It was there he ended up cellmates with Threat who was doing a bid for robbery.

  “Talk to your nigga. Let me know what’s real. Keep that shit one hunnit, too.” Tiaz told Threat as he lay back in his bed staring up at the bottom of his bunk. He poked the bottom of his comrade’s bunk trying to get his attention once he didn’t answer him right off.

  “Come on, Threat. You know how we do, give it to me straight, no chaser.”

  Threat closed his eyes and exhaled summoning up the nerve it would take to give his friend the truth. “If you haven’t heard from Ta’shauna in six months, I think it’s safe to say she’s living foul.”

  “What chu saying? That she’s fucking around?” Tiaz sat up in bed, he already knew what his homeboy meant but he was hoping he’d heard him wrong. Threat’s silence was enough for h
im. He knew what it was now. He brought his hand down his head and over his face, exhaling.

  He shuts his eyes and got mental flashes of Ta’shauna being sexed by another dude. He envisioned closeups of her face as she enjoyed nearing an orgasm. He could hear her cries of passion echoing inside of his head, and it was driving him insane. His face twisted into a mask of rage with veins sprouting out of his forehead and neck. As he balled his hand into a fist tightly, he saw the dude that was busting his lady down get up from between her legs and approach him with a smug grin, saying, “I’m her daddy now.” Tiaz’s eyelids snapped open and with a growl, he stood up and punched the solid concrete wall. There was a crunch and crackling sound and then excruciating pain engulfed his hand like the flames of a fire.

  “Arghhhhh! Shit!” He gritted in agony, cradling his broken hand. Threat jumped down from the top bunk and went to his homeboy’s aide.

  “Fuck.” Threat frowned ashe examined his hand.

  “Argh! I think I broke my hand!” Tiaz grimaced.

  Threat rushed to the bars calling out for the correctional officer. “C.O! C.O!”

  The C.O came hustling down the tier as fast as he could.

  “What happened?” He asked as he unlocked the cell.

  “I don’t know.He broke his hand somehow.”

  “Shit.” The officer examined Tiaz’s hand. “You’re gonna have to go to the infirmary.”

  “No shit.” Tiaz winced as he got to his feet, cradling his hand. Escorted by the officer, he went to go get his fractured hand checked out at the prison’s medical facility.

  A few days later...

  Tiaz stood in line with the rest of the convicts impatiently waiting to use the telephone. He couldn’t wait to get on the jack to try to reach Ta’shauna again. He’d convinced himself he’d dialed the wrong number before when first trying to reach her. Anything was better than believing she truly washed her hands of him.

  Tiaz was one person behind from using the telephone. He blew hard and rolled his eyes, having to listening to homeboy plead with his girl to put money on his books. He shook his head and massaged the bridge of his nose.It was quite sad. Once old boy in front of him wrapped up the conversation with his broad and hung up the telephone, he was right behind him picking the receiver back up. He punched in his number and placed the phone to his ear. He tapped his fingers in a rhythm on the wall while tapping his foot and listening to the phone ring.

  When someone picked up, he stood erect ready to talk but it was a recording that came on.

  We’re sorry, but the number you’ve reached has been disconnected, or is no longer in service...

  He hung up the phone and dialed the number again and received the same recording. He dialed the number once more, but this time he pressed the numbered buttons slowly thinking maybe he’d accidently pressed the wrong buttons by accident when he first called. Again, he received the same recorded message.

  Tiaz couldn’t believe Ta’shauna had changed her number on him.He could feel his rage building inside each time he dialed the number and received the same result. He had ended up dialing her number fifteen times before he’d known it. Unbeknownst to him the convicts behind him were getting antsy. Many of them were talking shit under their breaths and whispering to one another, but one cat in particular had the balls to step to him.

  “Damn, homie!How many numbers you gon’ dial? There are other niggaz waiting to use the jack!” The man known as Bishop barked.

  Tiaz looked him up and down with twisted lips like Nigga, you best raise the fuck up out of my face. He then focused his attention back on the ringing telephone, paying Bishop’s ass no never mind. When someone finally picked up, he spoke into the receiver. “Auntie, have you heard from—” Before he could finish getting out what he was trying to ask, the dial tone had sounded off in his ear.

  He looked up and Bishop was removing his hand from the lever. Rage exploded in his chest and he went into beastmode right on the spot. He whipped around on that nigga and cracked him in the face with his castedhand, breaking his nose and causing blood to spray from his nostrils. Homie cupped his spurting nose and staggered back. Tiaz was on that ass, though. He cracked him upside the head with his cast twice, slumpinghim against the wall in a daze. The rest of the convicts gathered around as he kicked and stomped dude out, giving him that work.

  Bishop’s head deflected off of the wall. He was barely conscious. His eyes were rolled to their whites. All he could do was sit there as he took a crucial ass beating.The convicts cheered and egged him on. The C.Os then rushed in. Tiaz was able to knock a couple of them out but eventually he was slammed to the floor. The correctional officers mashed the side of his face into the cold dirty floor and battered his back with their nightsticks.

  Crack! Whack! Wop! Bop!

  Tiaz’s forehead wrinkled and he clenched his teeth as his back was assaulted by the black steel rods.

  “Ahhhh! Fuck you! Fuck you!” He bellowed over and over until a sharp blow to the back of the dome put his hostile black ass out cold.

  ***

  Threat was out on the yard watching two convicts in a heated verbal exchange. They were freestyle battle rapping while a hefty dude provided the beatbox by cupping his meaty hands together and spewing unqiue noises with his lips. The two rappers had drawn a sizable crowd. They were going at it for a big carton of Camel cigarettes so they were giving it their all.

  Threat was enjoying the show and seemed to be impressed with the lyrics the two men were spitting. He thought it was too bad that they were lifers because they sure enough had the talent to be signed to a major record label.

  A short peanut head man with black bags under his eyes and a beanie pulled low over his brows strolled over to Threat. He tapped him on his arm and motioned for him to lean closer so he’d hear what he had to say.

  “What’s up, Roach?” Threat asked.

  “They just tossed your boy into the hole.” Roach informed.

  Threat’s forehead wrinkled. “For what?”

  “Got into it with that nigga Bishop over the jack. Broke homeboy off something real proper like, too.”

  “Good looking out, my nigga.” Threat dapped him up.

  “No problem, folks,” Roach replied, before wandering off through the crowd of prisoners.

  Chapter 3

  Tiaz spent the next few weeks in segregation exercising, pacing the floor, and thinking about Ta’shauna. He’d been locked up for nearly five years and everything seemed to be going smoothly between them. For a time, they’d kept in contact with one another regularly through letters, telephone calls and visits. In fact, the last time she’d come to visit him she seemed to have been her usual radiant self. She didn’t show any signs of being upset with him, so he couldn’t understand why she’d gone AWOL. Tiaz began to think that Threat was right. Maybe she had hooked up with someone else and had forgotten all about him. He didn’t want to believe it but there was a strong possibility it was true.

  If she did that to me, then that’s fucked up.After all the shit I’ve done for her. Out here hustling in the streets, throwing stones at the penitentiary. I put a roof over her head, clothes on her back, food on the fucking table, copped her new whip. Helped her raise her son, treated the lil’ nigga like he was mine. I know that bitch ain’t gon’ try to play me like that! Shit, she the reason why I’m locked up inside this shithole! Tiazthought to himself.

  His face twisted with anger and rage stirred inside of him. He cocked his good fist back as he was about to punch the solid cement wall again, but at the last second he caught himself. Having looked to his casted hand, he remembered what happened the last time he’d punched the wall. Tiaz lowered his fist and allowed the rage he’d built up to slowly die. He lay back on the hard one inch, state issued mattress and tried to calm down. His imagination had gotten the best of him. He was jumping to conclusions. He didn’t have any proof that Ta’shauna was stepping out on him, but yet in his head he’d already played her judge, jury and ex
ecutioner.

  Tiaz rested his arm behind his head and stared up at the ceiling in deep thought. The only way he could find out if his lady was creeping or not would have to be through Threat. His homeboy would be going before the parole board sometime next week. If he got paroled, hewould have him do some investigating and find out why Ta’shauna had run off like she had.

  Finding his eyelids growing heavier by the second, Tiaz eventually closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

  One week later...

  Tiaz stood in his cell shadow boxing. His body lightly sweated causing his wife beater to cling to him like latex. His forehead was wrinkled and his eyes held the concentration of a man attempting to defuse a bomb. His fists were swift and calculated, moving like flashes of lightning. His breaths were quick and measured, with each of his fluid movements.

  Fuck Ta’shauna, the thought of his lover came across his mental once again. If she shitted on me, she ain’t gon’ live long enough to regret it. That’s on my pop’s grave. Play me? Nah, never that, bitch just made it easier for me to move on. I’ma just take this as a sign from God. He blessed me with Chevy and put me in this situation to see that my old piece ain’t shit. Good looking outG.O.D. A nigga see the light now. He lifted the crucifix from off of his chest and kissed it, looking up into the sky. Thank you, Lord, he mouthed to The Man upstairs.

  Moments later...

  “I made parole! I’m going home!” Threat appeared at the cell wearing a jovial expression across his face. He picked Tiaz up and spun him around. He was excited, real excited. Finally, after three and a half years he was going home. He sat his comrade down and they embraced, manly like.

  “I’m going home, baby. Home!”

  “Congrats, my nigga.” Tiaz chuckled, genuinely happy to see his man free. He gave him a complex handshake and snapped hisfingers. He patted him on his back as he retrieved his store sheet of goods, looking over it.