“Under the Ring”

I peeked into the cell of the 6’5”, 345 pound cross dressing inmate named Mama D with caution. I knew I was playing with the devil, but sometimes it’s necessary to go real low in order to win, and sometimes it’s very necessary to win. To me, it just was one of those times.

Yo Mama, what’s up?

The fat, black, nasty bastard was in dingy boxers, a yellowish tee-shirt and a red handkerchief tied around his nappy head. The black giant wore make-up that he concocted out of Kool-Aid. Make up and all, he was a vulgar creature to look at.

You… Baby Doll.

The giant homosexual eyed the dozen packs of Newport cigarettes I balanced in my hands and arms.

I need a favor.

You want me to suck your dick?

No, no, no, I laughed nervously, I have a better dick for you to suck.

I was stupid to agree to the terms of the fight with the state champion boxer: no knees, no elbows, no eye gouging, no biting and no wrestling. This left me with no options except to fight his fight and that was a sucker move all day on any day on my behalf. He played on my pride and arrogance and the fact that he knew I had smoked a little weed rolled in Psalms 6.

The beef started where most beefs start in prison, in the TV room. It was in the middle of the morning and most everybody was at their work detail and I felt the rare urge to take in the Richard Bey show, a trashy talk show that featured hookers, porn stars or strippers at least twice a week.

Diegos strutted in and changed the channel, even though it was obvious that I was watching it.

Yo, what’s up? I protested.

Shut the fuck up!

Is he playing? I thought to myself. He has to be playing. The kid and I normally got along until now.

Chill, I’m watching that?

I got up to change the channel back to Richard Bey.

Diegos shoved me. Oh shit! I thought, he’s tripping on me.

Yo, what the fuck is up?

Whatever you want to be up, my nigga? Diegos spitted in a thick Dominican accent.

If it wasn’t for a heroin habit, Diegos would have been a top professional fighter in the street, fighting the likes of Roy Jones Jr. I’ve seen him boxed before and even cheered for him during jailhouse boxing matches with other prisons. I’ll go as far as even saying that I was a fan. The kid was talented with his knuckle game.

What are you going to do? Bite me? You’re a punk!

Actually I was observing his big ears that were easy enough to grab on to and yank downwards, which would surely rip them halfway off, at the very least.

Fight me like a man. Straight up fists! Come on! You don’t dare.

Fuck it, I thought. Whatever! My thought process slowed down from the pin joint I smoked a half a hour earlier.

I followed the cocky Dominican to his cell and walked in to get attacked with no less than 30 body shots that felt like thousands of bee stings. He was quick and fluid with his punches. I managed to grab the bastard, push him and hook off on him. I landed a few hits, but it wasn’t shit. The kid was conditioned to take much more. There’s no need to go into detail. This just wasn’t my fight. I got fucked up and I was okay with that. Everybody loses sometimes.

What I wasn’t okay with was that he told anybody and everybody that would listen. I thought okay, the kid is feeling his own shit for the night. But it became his conversation for days. Every time I heard the kid’s voice, he was talking shit about how he fucked me up. It wasn’t good enough to beat me, he had to make sure that I was fully humiliated. Of course, I could see that this was giving other guys ideas that maybe I was an easy target after all. I couldn’t have that.

There were a few reasons why I didn’t step to him. I was half way into my bit and any trouble I got myself into at this point, would reflect badly on me whenever I sat in front of the parole board. I couldn’t stand to do any more time than I already had. My mind was prepared to do my sentence and any more time would have broken me. To be fully honest, I also didn’t want to give the cocksucker the possible satisfaction of fucking me up again. I was out of his league, fight wise. Something like that would have driven me to murder.

Still, it burnt a hole in my stomach every time I heard him talk shit about me with the stupid smirk he had on his face and the ridiculous Superman curl he had hanging over his forehead. I might not have been able to beat him physically, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t win. I went to Tareek to cop four bags of China White heroin.

Later that night at recreation, I called Diegos towards me by the boxing ring. He approached me suspiciously as he should have.

Yo bee, I just want to squash shit like a man. There’s no need to be talking shit about each other. We were boys. Know what I’m saying?

I took out a bag of heroin and gave it to him.

You trying to poison me?

I expected this and was prepared to deal with it.

Nah, nigga. I’m about to do one with you and shit.

I took out another bag and ripped it open.

Let me get that one.

What a dick I thought. We traded bags and sniffed them at the same time. I’ve done heroin a few occasions before and I couldn’t understand the appeal. Both Diegos and I went to the back of the boxing ring and threw up together. The noises in the gymnasium seemed amplified. My vision got blurry and the tip of my nose itchy. Diegos went into a nod. For what I had planned, focus was necessary and it didn’t come easy.

I saw Mama D slowly making his big way over to us. I grinned in my own personal knowledge of what was about to happen. I scoped the gym out. There was hundreds of possible witness’s, but none were paying attention. Everybody seemed to be consumed with themselves. The guards kept looking at their watches, waiting to go home and eat their meatloaf and mashed potato dinners and fuck their fat ugly wives.

It took seconds for Mama D to yoke Diegos from behind and drag him underneath the skirt of the boxing ring. I tried to kick him, but I was too doped up and missed. Within minutes I heard screams that were muffled by the noises of the gym. I then smelled feces. Yuck! I thought and casually walked with my hands in my pocket to the front of the gym, waiting for recreation to be over. 15 minutes later, Mama D reappeared from the boxing ring, all smiles.

Gym was over and it was of urgent importance that I got to my tier way before anybody else. This took work since I was so high. I accomplished it. I tossed the two bags of dope I had left under Diegos pillow and made it out his cell before anybody saw me. I went to my cell to lie on my bunk, feeling satisfied. I heard other inmates gossiping that Mama D smelled like shit. Most of them were afraid of the homosexual. He was known to knock out the disrespectful and suck their dick on the spot in public. Nobody wanted to chance that. I know I didn’t.

Within the hour, guards came to collect and bag Diegos belongings. He was found unconscious under the boxing ring and taken to Saint Francis hospital in Trenton, New Jersey for surgery. I guess to repair his anus. It didn’t take long for the C.O.’s to find the drugs in Diego’s cell. They immediately called a sergeant who decided to charge the boxer with the drugs, which carried a mandatory 30 day sentence in the hole.

That night I wondered how all the family and friends that was on Diegos “approved to visit” list would respond to the letter that the facility sent to those involved in homosexual activities, whether consented or not.  I also wondered if Mama D passed on his H.I.V. to the cocky bastard. Then I thought how fucked it was that after being raped, he would have to spend 30 days in the hole. Diegos had it bad. Maybe he should have had a bit more mercy on me. How did I sleep that night? Very peacefully. You see, I make it a point to never underestimate or push anybody to their limit, so shame to those who do. You never know what you might get. Usually, it’s fucked...one way or the other.

Posted on November 16, 2007 at 08:13 PM   |   Previous Entry   |   Next Entry   |   Entry List   |   Email Entry   |    Digg

Responses to this entry
There are 6 total comments about this entry. The most recent comment was posted 9 months, 2 weeks ago...

Add a comment
Please keep your comment on topic.