Entry Twenty-Five
Free At Last
Today they took a group of us out of our segregated cells in the hole, also known as the SHU (Secure Housing Unit) to the captain’s office to officially charge us of our infractions.
When I got down to the captain’s make-shift office, officer Dully, the guard that actually found the pruno in my cell was seated in the room with him. Immediately I could tell something was 
wrong. The vibe just wasn’t right. The Captain asked me if I knew what I was in the hole for.
It was the way he said it… As if he wasn’t sure why I was here. Fuck it, I know how to play the game. I told the Cap, “Naw, I don’t know what’s going on.” Dully got defensive way too quickly. Something wasn’t right and I knew it. Dully says, “Emanuel, did I or didn’t I find a jug of wine in your cell?”
Okay, by now I know somebody fucked up somewhere, somehow. “A jug of wine in my cell? Naw, there must be some mistake,” I reply. When I say this, Dully’s face turns beet red. This mother fucker is really mad because I won’t tell on myself. I tell them I thought I was in the hole for the two slices of bread I smuggled back to my cell from the chow hall. Dully and the Cap share a look before they call for the guard to take me back to my cell. Two hours later the guard was telling me to roll up to go back to my unit.
Entry Twenty-Six
I’m Back!
They released me from the hole today…
All charges were dropped. Bud was the first person to greet me back at the unit. He had the stupidest smile on his face. I think the kid actually missed me.
Okay, I finally found out what happened with the jug of pruno. Here are the facts as I remember them.
- I remember the C.O. cuffing me up and taking me and the jug of pruno from my cell on the second tier down to his cubicle on the flats.
- I remember the unit guard placing the pruno inside his cubicle.
- I remember the unit guard radioing for my escort to the hole.
- I remember a fight breaking out on the flats.
- I remember the unit guard yelling for everyone to, “Lock Down!”
- I remember the unit guard radioing for backup. “Fight in K-Unit!”
- I remember the unit guard leaving me unattended as he attempted to break up the fight.
- I remember thinking to myself, “I’m handcuffed with my hands behind my back and no way to protect myself.”
- I remember making my way over to where my boy Randy was standing with a few other brothers.
As it turns out, during that fight, Bud crept into the guard’s cubicle and stole the jug of pruno while no one was watching. Bud is the last person in the world that I thought I’d be in debt to. It is what it is. I’ve decided to squash Bud’s tab. This should make us even.
I’ve moved to a new cell with a nigga named Sniper, Snipe for short. Snipe is cool people. He’s short but has this presence about him. Unfortunately, he’s a Crip and I am not. So I have to start looking for a new cellie soon.
I ran into Big Rob in the yard this afternoon. I was mad that the nigga didn’t step up and cop to the wine charge. Before I could even get a word out Rob explained that he was expecting a visit the weekend I was locked up. He promised me he would make it up to me later.
Right before chow Rob called down for me. When I went to his cell he handed me a small balloon. “I don’t want to have to keep looking over my back for a small misunderstanding,” he said.
“What’s this,” I asked.
“It’s Smack, nigga!” “Enough to keep you fat in the commissary for a minute.” Now I understand why he couldn’t miss that visit. So I called “cool” on everything.
I showed Gold T what I was working with. (No Homo) He said that if I stepped on it properly I’d be looking at about three to five thousand dollars worth of heroin. Oh yeah! Your boy is about to bubble. The hustle don’t stop.
Entry Twenty-Seven
The Come Up
My new cellmate’s name is Fraction. I thought it was the nigga’s street name, but come to find out it’s his government name.
Snipe moved out of the cell we shared into the cell right next door with another Crip named Killer Boom. Snipe told me it was nothing personal, just politics. He introduced me to Boom… Is it a coincidence that both of their names are synonymous with guns? Killer Boom looks like a nigga that might have averaged 3 or 4 murders a month. I’m not talking drive-by shootings, he looks like a nigga that’s gonna give it to you up close and personal. (No Homo) I’m staying the fuck away from Boom.
Gold T snuck into my unit today. In my cell, it took him about 30 minutes to step on and package up the product while I played lookout. He used powdered sugar from the chow hall kitchen to cut the dope. It didn’t look like two gees worth of work to me, but Gold T insisted it was and showed me how to package up a fifty-dollar standard jailhouse sack. I thought to myself, “Who the fuck is gonna pay fifty dollars for such a small amount of product?”
Gold T started by cutting out a 3-inch X 3-inch square from the bible. This was the packaging. He then used a piece of folded-up paper to scoop the dope up, which he poured into the thimble from the board game Monopoly. A half-filled thimble is considered a 50-sack in Lompoc. The dope from the thimble goes into the 3 X 3 square. Fold up the ends and voilà! Eyeballing the stash I could tell that I could easily max out commissary every week for the rest of the year even after breaking Gold T off. (No Homo)
Gold T put me on to a dope fiend, booty bandit in my unit named Bob J. Bob is an old dope fiend from back in the day. I know his type well. I broke Bob off a taste of the work and he was back a few hours later wanting to spend a hundred dollars with me. I gave Bob a 100-dollar commissary list which consisted mostly of cigarettes, packs of coffee, and candy bars. I planned on making money off these items by giving out two and getting three back. The hustle don’t stop.