Page 3 of Tempted to Love You
Laughter escapes my mouth because I didn’t realize I had presented a reason to negotiate.
“I didn’t realize we were working out terms and conditions, but I’m as serious as a heart attack.”
“I hear you, and I appreciate you doing this for me, Latia.”
Lord, I don’t know why I opened my big mouth because I ain’t got no business wandering around Ritown Projects either.
Rakai (Ra-ky) Zaire Crawford
How the hell did I mess my life up this bad? Not listening to Ma and Pop’s guidance and thinking that I was invincible while pushing drugs on the streets of Ribax. That’s how. Now, here I am, twenty-six and required to follow instructions whether I want to or not. Being in this rat-infested place for a year and some change has been the most mind-altering thing I’ve ever experienced. What’s worse is I have four more years to suffer the consequences of my actions. How does a man from a two-parent household choose to sell drugs and jeopardize his freedom?
“Aye, young buck. You ain’t got time to be lying around. We’ve got things to do,” my celli, Mr. Bryan, tells me while standing inside the open cell.
Bryan Benton has been my cellmate since I got here a year ago, and gratefully, he’s become my mentor. Mr. Bryan ensures that no one messes with me and helps me keep my nose clean. I’m grateful for someone like him realizing that the hothead with no direction desperately needed to get his stuff together. With the persistence of Mr. Bryan, I’m taking online classes to obtain a degree in human resources management. I’m tired of the cycle of my life that has been dictating where I lay my head at night.I’ll leave this prison at thirty, and it’s time to find something to focus on besides hugging the block.
“Did you hear me, Rakai?” Mr. Bryan asks, returning my attention to him while forcing me to get up and move to where he’s waiting.
“My bad, man.”
A lazy smirk forms before I dodge Mr. Bryan’s playful fist coming toward me. Being grateful for the mentoring of Mr. Bryan is a massive understatement because, without him, I can’t promise I wouldn’t be trying to change my mindset.
“Did you finish that paper your psychology professor assigned? If not, we’re not leaving until you do. Time isn’t on your side, and I ain’t about to let you slack off. Remember, the goal is for me and you to never end up on the same side once you leave here.”
Walking beside Mr. Bryan, I nod to one of my old partners who got arrested shortly after I did. Unlike myself, Dougie isn’t interested in transforming his life, and while I understand him, I can no longer run with him. Dougie has also joined one of the gangs since being locked down, which makes it even more imperative for me to keep my distance. While I have no beef or love lost for Dougie, I’m no longer on that type of time. I have spent years making Fatima cry and listening to Raphael threaten to kick my ass. It’s time to give my parents something to smile about concerning me. Fatima and Raphael deserve to see me displaying the phenomenal parenting they’ve given me.
“I see that knucklehead ain’t learned yet. He ain’t gonna be satisfied until his parents are mourning his ass.” Mr. Bryan’s eyes are on Dougie, who’s now throwing up gang signs with another inmate.
“Same old, Dougie, different environment. To answer your question, I finished that paper but have to finish up the one for my business class,” I inform Mr. Bryan.
We’re heading toward the library because Mr. Bryan is a stickler about me staying on top of my coursework. Despite Mr. Bryan’s life sentence for being a repeat drug offender, he too obtained a degree since being here. Learning of Mr. Bryan’s history and the aftermath led me to decide to change my ways. It’s crazy that the judges and lawyers are harder on drug dealers than they are murderers, but that’s one downside of the justice system I hate. In my case, the justice system didn’t hang me out to dry because I only got sentenced to five years. However, the judge clarified that she would throw the book at me if she saw me in her courtroom again post-release.
“Okay. Say less, young buck. I’m gonna find something to read while you handle your business,” Mr. Bryan informs me.
“Did you get a chance to look at the files I gave you last week? I have some reservations because they don’t come off as wanting to change their lives. I don’t want any liabilities by bringing them in for them to end up returning to the streets,” my friend and boss, Grant, asks, standing at my door.
“I haven’t gotten around to it yet, but it’s on my to-do list for this morning.”
Grant Benton and I met through his father, Bryan, while I was serving time. It’s been one of the best connections I could have ever made. When Mr. Bryan was on my ass about obtaining my degree, I didn’t know his reasoning for doing so. At the urging of Mr. Bryan, I added Grant to my list of approved visitors. According to Grant, his father had been talking about me because he saw something in me far greater than a reckless young buck who sold drugs.
On the strength of his father, Grant promised that if I completed my degree and kept my nose clean, he would help me once I was released from prison. I initially blew off Grant because, other than Fatima and Raphael, people weren’t in the business of keeping their word with me. Yet, at thirty-three, I serve as the HR director for Grant’s nonprofit organization,Branding Minds, Reshaping Hearts.I’m grateful to Mr. Bryan for seeing something worth redeeming within me and humbled by Grant’s desire to give his father the benefit of the doubt. Grant and I formed a bond and relationship I didn’t realize I needed at the time.
Three years post-release, my life is much better than I ever expected. Earning a living the legal way and seeing the smiles on Ma’s face is something I’ll never be able to repay Mr. Bryan for. However, Grant and I ensure that Mr. Bryan is taken care of while serving his sentence. We take turns going to see him, and even though I’m no longer his cellmate, he still takes time to drop gems with me.
“Call me once you’ve had a chance to look over the files. I’m about to head out for a bit, but my phone will be on,” Grant informs me.
“Alright, I got you.”
Returning to the task at hand, I smile, thinking about how much my life has changed for the better just by knowing Mr. Bryan and Grant.
Opportunities for change don’t come around every day, but to benefit from two people choosing to give me a chance to clean up my life is the greatest reward I’ve had to date. I left Ribax Correctional three years ago and wasn’t down and out, nor was I unsure of my future. Thanks to my grandparents’ foresight, I own a four-bedroom, two-and-a-half bath two-level house with an attached garage. Thanks to Ma and Pops, my bills were paid, and I had nothing to worry about fresh out of jail but continuingmy transformation of what my life became from the moment my feet hit the concrete.
“Good evening, sweetie. What can I get you?” Ms. Tamika asks when I approach her food truck.
After a long, productive day at work, my stomach was touching my back, and I didn’t feel like cooking, so stopping to grab food was a must.
“Let me get the oxtails with double cabbage, a chicken patty, and the passion fruit drink, please.”
“Are you sure you don’t want the rice?” Ms. Tamika asks, giving me a look because the double cabbage isn’t my usual order.
