since you’ve gotten off! Look, you and Rodney are over.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Mia rolled her eyes as she continued to move like a bat out of the depths of Hell. “ I’m the one that called it off.”
“I know, but it’s like you’re still living in the past.”
“What? How so? Because I’m not trying to screw anyone right now?” Mia rolled her eyes at the woman, contemplated putting her ear buds in and blocking out her cousin altogether.
“Yeah, it’s deeper than that and we both know it. It is time to move on, girl.” Trudy rolled her big, dark brown eyes as her tapered coffee-brown bob swayed with each of her rapid movements. “I moved me and my kids out here to be closer to you, my best friend… get a fresh start.”
“I know, and I love the time we spend together,” she shot her a look of disdain out the corner of her eye. “Usually…”
“Usually?” Trudy halted her steps abruptly and her face scrunched up as if she’d been forced to suck a slice of lemon dipped in pickle juice. “Well, let me tell you something, Ms. Thang. You ain’t been doin’ nothin’ but being pinned up in that house of yours, ignoring the entire world.”
“I do not! I have a job and I—”
“You said we’d go out, do stuff together!”
“I’ve been busy, Trudy!” A soft spring breeze almost caused her damn near distraction as it carried sweetness from the recently sprouted French mulberry flowers. “You act as if I’m just sitting on my thumbs, bored and depressed. One of the sick and shut in.” Her laugh made a tinkling sound in the silence surrounding them. “I teach, volunteer, provide tutoring, work at the prison and—”
“Sit around daydreamin’ like you did when we was kids, writing poetry and reciting it at that weird spoken word place you like to go to.” The woman scoffed as they got moving once again, her honey brown limbs flapping about as she turned even their walking exercises into a competition.
“You need some damn dick.”
Mia rolled her eyes but kept her stride, determined to get her 10k steps in for the day.
“And Auntie and me don’t like you working over there at that Holman prison, Mia. It’s dangerous. The damn place has been on television!”
“So have A-Team re-runs and Sesame Street. Does that mean I’m supposed to fear Mr. T and Bert and Ernie, too?”
“Can’t you do adult teaching somewhere else?” She winced, ignoring her sarcastic jab.
“You know what, Trudy?”
“No, I don’t know anyone named ‘What’,” Trudy bit out, her pettiness climbing high upon the proverbial monkey bars.
“I am tired of you and my mama having discussions behind my back about what I need to be doing.” Her irritation simmered as they made their way past an elderly couple, arm in arm.
How sweet…
“I’ve said the same exact thing to your face. It did not a fraction of good.” Trudy glanced down at her phone adhered to her arm via a silver and black shoulder band. “Holman is no joke! Some of the most hardcore criminals are there, Mia. A lot of ’em on Death Row… What does a man on Death Row need to read for? He already done for; a USA Today article ain’t gonna help him. It’s over.”
“Most of the men I tutor and help teach to read Trudy have not been given life sentences. Holman is overly crowded, actually. Many times guys are sent there because there is nowhere else to put them. That means you have a man that was busted smoking some weed holed up with a man that killed fifteen people during one hour. There is a serious disparity.”
“I told you about using those big words on me,” Trudy teased, marrying her smile to a wink.
“It’s true.”
“What’s also true is that it is called the ‘Slaughter Pen of the South.’” She made the announcement as if that declaration would somehow turn the tide, put everything in a brand new light.
“Look.” Mia took a deep breath and placed her hands on her hips as she beheld the
“Don’t you think I know that?” Mia rolled her eyes as she continued to move like a bat out of the depths of Hell. “ I’m the one that called it off.”
“I know, but it’s like you’re still living in the past.”
“What? How so? Because I’m not trying to screw anyone right now?” Mia rolled her eyes at the woman, contemplated putting her ear buds in and blocking out her cousin altogether.
“Yeah, it’s deeper than that and we both know it. It is time to move on, girl.” Trudy rolled her big, dark brown eyes as her tapered coffee-brown bob swayed with each of her rapid movements. “I moved me and my kids out here to be closer to you, my best friend… get a fresh start.”
“I know, and I love the time we spend together,” she shot her a look of disdain out the corner of her eye. “Usually…”
“Usually?” Trudy halted her steps abruptly and her face scrunched up as if she’d been forced to suck a slice of lemon dipped in pickle juice. “Well, let me tell you something, Ms. Thang. You ain’t been doin’ nothin’ but being pinned up in that house of yours, ignoring the entire world.”
“I do not! I have a job and I—”
“You said we’d go out, do stuff together!”
“I’ve been busy, Trudy!” A soft spring breeze almost caused her damn near distraction as it carried sweetness from the recently sprouted French mulberry flowers. “You act as if I’m just sitting on my thumbs, bored and depressed. One of the sick and shut in.” Her laugh made a tinkling sound in the silence surrounding them. “I teach, volunteer, provide tutoring, work at the prison and—”
“Sit around daydreamin’ like you did when we was kids, writing poetry and reciting it at that weird spoken word place you like to go to.” The woman scoffed as they got moving once again, her honey brown limbs flapping about as she turned even their walking exercises into a competition.
“You need some damn dick.”
Mia rolled her eyes but kept her stride, determined to get her 10k steps in for the day.
“And Auntie and me don’t like you working over there at that Holman prison, Mia. It’s dangerous. The damn place has been on television!”
“So have A-Team re-runs and Sesame Street. Does that mean I’m supposed to fear Mr. T and Bert and Ernie, too?”
“Can’t you do adult teaching somewhere else?” She winced, ignoring her sarcastic jab.
“You know what, Trudy?”
“No, I don’t know anyone named ‘What’,” Trudy bit out, her pettiness climbing high upon the proverbial monkey bars.
“I am tired of you and my mama having discussions behind my back about what I need to be doing.” Her irritation simmered as they made their way past an elderly couple, arm in arm.
How sweet…
“I’ve said the same exact thing to your face. It did not a fraction of good.” Trudy glanced down at her phone adhered to her arm via a silver and black shoulder band. “Holman is no joke! Some of the most hardcore criminals are there, Mia. A lot of ’em on Death Row… What does a man on Death Row need to read for? He already done for; a USA Today article ain’t gonna help him. It’s over.”
“Most of the men I tutor and help teach to read Trudy have not been given life sentences. Holman is overly crowded, actually. Many times guys are sent there because there is nowhere else to put them. That means you have a man that was busted smoking some weed holed up with a man that killed fifteen people during one hour. There is a serious disparity.”
“I told you about using those big words on me,” Trudy teased, marrying her smile to a wink.
“It’s true.”
“What’s also true is that it is called the ‘Slaughter Pen of the South.’” She made the announcement as if that declaration would somehow turn the tide, put everything in a brand new light.
“Look.” Mia took a deep breath and placed her hands on her hips as she beheld the
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