minutes with you.”
“What do you want from me, Tempest?”
“Them cops that murdered Landry,” he began.
“You mean the peace officers who shot down Mr. Landry seven years ago on that corner in Harlem.”
“One man’s killin’ is another man’s murder.”
We had had that argument a dozen times over the years.
“What is your question, Tempest?”
“Those cops shot Landry down—they’re all goin’ to heaven, right?”
“When last I looked.”
“So killin’ ain’t necessarily what they call a cardinal sin?”
“Not necessarily. Why do you ask?”
“I have a friend…had a friend, name of Jessup G. Peterson.”
“Yes?”
“Me an’ Jesse was tight, man. I mean we hung out in the yard an’ watched each others’ backs even from them that said they was our friends.”
“I see.”
“And there’s this guard,” Tempest said, “called Lew. Lew’s this light-skinned black guy think his doo-doo don’t stink.
“Now Jesse got a mouth on him. It’s not really what he says but the way what he says sound like. So whenever he saw Lew he’d say sumpin’ like, ‘There go True Lew Blue the black man where a screw done grew.’ ”
“And I take it that Lew didn’t like that?” I asked.
“No, he didn’t. He’d always be on Jesse until one day when Jesse made up one’a his rhymes Lew just smiled like he knew somethin’ an’ Jesse didn’t.”
“What was that?” I asked to stay in the conversation.
“One day Jesse’s ex-wife, Martine, come in to see him. She said she was worried about their sixteen-year-old daughter Lena because she was datin’ this older man. A man named Lewis Tyler.”
“The True Blue Screw,” I said.
“You got it right, Angel. Lew was takin’ Lena away for days at a time and she just told her mother and stepfather to mind their own business. Now if Jessup was home he’d’a taken care of business but the stepfather wasn’t willin’ to go all the way.
“Then one day Lew ended up escortin’ me an’ Jesse back to our cells because he had set up a spot check.
“You know, Angel, life in prison is like what it must’a been like ten thousand years ago when a man had to act in a instant. You know killin’ back then was second nature—maybe first. We turnt this corner an’ Jesse flashed back with a right hook that caught Lew right in the middle’a his chin. I mean it sounded like a gunshot. Lew hit the ground an’ Jesse come out with a shiv—”
“A what?”
“A homemade knife. Jesse jumped on top of Lew and was about to cut his throat. I knew that there was a camera runnin’ overhead and Jesse only had three more years before he could get out. I didn’t care about that guard. He could’a died for all it mattered to me. The Bible say,
Thou shalt not kill
, but it wasn’t me killin’ him and if anybody deserved it, he did. But I didn’t want Jesse to spend the rest’a his life behind bars so I pult him off’a the guard. By this time there was alarms goin’ off. Jesse had lost his mind with rage over what that man had been doin’ with his daughter and so he saw me as a enemy too. He jumped on me and started pressin’ that knife down at my chest. I tried to talk to him but he wasn’t listenin’. Finally, when no guard came, I pushed Jesse ovah an’ fell on top’a him. The knife pierced his heart and I saw him die right there under me.”
For three of Tempest’s precious minutes there was silence on the line.
“I’m sorry,” I said to break the hush.
“You should be.”
“Why do you say it like that?”
“Because now I know that I’m a sinner,” he said, stifling a sob. “I killed my best friend for nuthin’. Pretty soon I’ll be sucked down into hell and you will be released into heaven.”
“But you saved a life.”
“The life of a man didn’t deserve to live.”
“But you were trying to save Jesse from his own intentions.”
“Better life in prison than hell at the end of St. Peter’s line.”
“He
“What do you want from me, Tempest?”
“Them cops that murdered Landry,” he began.
“You mean the peace officers who shot down Mr. Landry seven years ago on that corner in Harlem.”
“One man’s killin’ is another man’s murder.”
We had had that argument a dozen times over the years.
“What is your question, Tempest?”
“Those cops shot Landry down—they’re all goin’ to heaven, right?”
“When last I looked.”
“So killin’ ain’t necessarily what they call a cardinal sin?”
“Not necessarily. Why do you ask?”
“I have a friend…had a friend, name of Jessup G. Peterson.”
“Yes?”
“Me an’ Jesse was tight, man. I mean we hung out in the yard an’ watched each others’ backs even from them that said they was our friends.”
“I see.”
“And there’s this guard,” Tempest said, “called Lew. Lew’s this light-skinned black guy think his doo-doo don’t stink.
“Now Jesse got a mouth on him. It’s not really what he says but the way what he says sound like. So whenever he saw Lew he’d say sumpin’ like, ‘There go True Lew Blue the black man where a screw done grew.’ ”
“And I take it that Lew didn’t like that?” I asked.
“No, he didn’t. He’d always be on Jesse until one day when Jesse made up one’a his rhymes Lew just smiled like he knew somethin’ an’ Jesse didn’t.”
“What was that?” I asked to stay in the conversation.
“One day Jesse’s ex-wife, Martine, come in to see him. She said she was worried about their sixteen-year-old daughter Lena because she was datin’ this older man. A man named Lewis Tyler.”
“The True Blue Screw,” I said.
“You got it right, Angel. Lew was takin’ Lena away for days at a time and she just told her mother and stepfather to mind their own business. Now if Jessup was home he’d’a taken care of business but the stepfather wasn’t willin’ to go all the way.
“Then one day Lew ended up escortin’ me an’ Jesse back to our cells because he had set up a spot check.
“You know, Angel, life in prison is like what it must’a been like ten thousand years ago when a man had to act in a instant. You know killin’ back then was second nature—maybe first. We turnt this corner an’ Jesse flashed back with a right hook that caught Lew right in the middle’a his chin. I mean it sounded like a gunshot. Lew hit the ground an’ Jesse come out with a shiv—”
“A what?”
“A homemade knife. Jesse jumped on top of Lew and was about to cut his throat. I knew that there was a camera runnin’ overhead and Jesse only had three more years before he could get out. I didn’t care about that guard. He could’a died for all it mattered to me. The Bible say,
Thou shalt not kill
, but it wasn’t me killin’ him and if anybody deserved it, he did. But I didn’t want Jesse to spend the rest’a his life behind bars so I pult him off’a the guard. By this time there was alarms goin’ off. Jesse had lost his mind with rage over what that man had been doin’ with his daughter and so he saw me as a enemy too. He jumped on me and started pressin’ that knife down at my chest. I tried to talk to him but he wasn’t listenin’. Finally, when no guard came, I pushed Jesse ovah an’ fell on top’a him. The knife pierced his heart and I saw him die right there under me.”
For three of Tempest’s precious minutes there was silence on the line.
“I’m sorry,” I said to break the hush.
“You should be.”
“Why do you say it like that?”
“Because now I know that I’m a sinner,” he said, stifling a sob. “I killed my best friend for nuthin’. Pretty soon I’ll be sucked down into hell and you will be released into heaven.”
“But you saved a life.”
“The life of a man didn’t deserve to live.”
“But you were trying to save Jesse from his own intentions.”
“Better life in prison than hell at the end of St. Peter’s line.”
“He
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