MyTimeToBlog
I had many friends during my incarceration, but none like Gee. We met back in the early 2000s, when Nottoway Correction Center was a tough environment for anybody. Our housing unit, Upper C East Side, was called the Ghetto. The administration gave us that name, and it was exactly that: a ghetto.
When I met Gee, we were in the midst of a gang war. The kind that had you checking the stairwell when you marched outside. It was a hectic time, but Gee was the type who smoked cigarettes and played spades with the old men. At that time, I was running one of the biggest store boxes in the facility (when you borrowed 1 item for 2 back). Gee smoked, so he became a new customer for my thriving business. Once I saw how he paid his debt, conversations began.
He was a Job Corps veteran, just like me. We laughed at the comparisons of what our time was like in Job Corp, plus it also showed us that we were different; we knew how to navigate an environment loaded with strangers from different walks of life--and how to monetize those encounters.
You see, Gee was a runner. He didn't have a problem moving tobacco, honey buns, or hygiene products. As long as he could profit from it. We hit it off again, because when he needed money from me, I was eager to hand him what he required. After all, he would always pay me what I'm owed on time.
As we grew our bond, so did our hustle. When tobacco was being permanently removed from all prison facilities, I had a surplus from my years of store boxing. A single roll-up cigarette went for five dollars. One! I had pouches of tobacco. So many that I'm penitentiary rich. Now the problem was I'm working the weekend shift in the chow hall, wiping tables and making deals, but I'm missing the money from other housing units, and that's where Gee came into play.
Again, his ability to walk up to different men afforded us swollen commissary bags. This especially had us a windfall during the holiday seasons when we were getting our Holiday Packages; snacks ordered from an outside vendor that we couldn't get on the facility's commissary.
Once the tobacco was gone, we still saluted each other as comrades. This strengthened our bond...but then I was locked up for an illegal cellphone. My penalty was a trip to Wallens Ridge State Prison...for a third time. I spent 14 years away from Nottoway due to my poor decision-making skills. When I finally returned to Nottoway, the second person who shouted me out as I sat in Medical was Gee.
He spent those 14 years on Nottoway, and during that time, he changed some. Like now he was making prison hooch, and was in a gay relationship with this college student. Still, we embraced. The wild part was I now lived next door to him. We spoke for a bit, but Gee was racing around the unit making prison hooch and transporting his soda bottle with his special brew.
As the discussions came on our decade plus of separation, I saw that I'm thinking about the streets, and he was building a thriving business of being a prison hooch dealer. I didn't judge, because we all gotta find our own way in prison.
The crazy part was that he had his pockets stacked with money. He wanted that to be his calling card while his gay lover was working on his associate's degree. I watched Gee more and more, because instead of fighting for his freedom, he was content with life inside. Again, if he's happy, who am I to stress that life on the outside was better?
Gee got locked up for a wine charge. I thought I would never see him again. But weeks later, he's back in the unit, working on another batch of prison hooch. I'm shaking my head, asking him if it was smart to continue with what he was doing. He replied that it was, then asked me to cook for him. I did...hey, we're friends.
He moved into a cell with a new gay lover. His old one transferred to another facility. The new lover was a Deuce Head (K-2 smoker). I'm looking at Gee like what the hell are you doing, but he didn't care what I or anybody thought.
He had a lover who fell out in the day room, high as hell. We're cleaning up blood stains from where the lover cracked his head open, and Gee continued dealing with him...then his lover got knocked off with Gee's prison hooch. He went to the segregation, then returned to the cell, where Gee was making another batch of prison hooch.
I took a step back, because continuing to do dumb over and over wasn't my cup of tea. Gee didn't care, because he's home in prison, and institutional charges come and come and come. That was why I was surprised when he caught a cellphone charge; it wasn't his forte. Now I thought I would never see him again, but a month later, he's out again.
I'm looking at him like he was lucky. I embraced him, but I'm telling him about life in the mountains (high-level prison facilities). He didn't care because his prison hooch was being made day after day. I kept my mouth shut because at that point, he knew what he was doing was wrong, and the consequences that followed.
That's why when he learned he was getting transferred, he grew somber. The reality of life on higher levels crashed down on him. He would be dealing with more time in his cells and individuals who had long sentences and were constantly angry. He tried getting his transfer stopped, but the higher-ups at the facility wanted him gone.
We sat down and I made him a goodbye meal. We reminisced for a while, but then it got emotional. The last time we saw each other was 14 years ago. Would we ever see each other again? I don't know. We embraced, smiled, then it was over. He transferred that night, gone.
I learned he was sent to River North Correction Center. A level four facility that acted like a supermax prison. He would survive there because he knew how to do his time...but the prison hooch...I don't know? All I know is that I'll miss my friend. I hope he'll grow up like I did when I returned to the supermax prisons that made me recognize it was time to get my life in order. I hope.