I smiled like I had hit a homerun, because at least this time, I was still standing in the box. Sure I was scared, but on the outside, I looked strong and confident.
"Look at Timmy!" one of my teammates yelled.
"Yeah, " another said. "Now if we can just get him to swing."
Until we chose our men, Paul and I spent all of our time together. We walked to chow together, we ate together, and when we returned from our job assignments, we hung out in the dayroom and waited for the next count. And whenever we could, we snuck under his bed and had sex together. We talked a great deal about surviving prison and what we would do when we both got out. We never talked about Slide Step again. I think Paul knew better than to bring it up.
"There are queers in Detroit as well," Paul said. "I think I'll stay in the area."
"I think I'd like to get away from my family for a while. I'm not sure they'd ever understand," I explained.
Paul had a ten-year sentence, to my four and half, which meant he had a lot longer to go than I did. "You'll probably go to a Correction Center by the end of next year," he said. "I'll still have another five to go."
"It'll only be four by then," I said, trying to comfort him.
"Yeah, but you'll probably forget all about me."
"I'd never forget you, Paul. Are you crazy?"
He looked up and played with the curls in my hair. We fell asleep in each other's arms and didn't wake until we heard the sound of doors slamming down the hall.
It was count time, and we scrambled to put on our clothes. When we crawled out from Paul's bed, we heard the lock engage in the door. The guard must have pulled the release break at the end of the hall.
"Uh oh," I panicked. "We're fucked."
"Fuck it," Paul said. "We're busted-it's no big deal."
When the guard came around and looked in on us, he shook his head in disgust and continued with his rounds. A few minutes later, he came back and unlocked Paul's door, manually with his key. He didn't say anything as I climbed out and headed up the hall toward my cell. He left me waiting in front my door, before he came back with a pink misconduct report in his hand. He let me inside and then top-locked the door.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Giving you a ticket," he said. "Administrative Segregation until you go to court."
He'd written me up for being for two-in-a-room. It carried up to five days in detention. When you were placed on AD-SEG, you were kept locked in your cell until your hearing, which they had to give you within forty-eight hours.
Two things immediately crossed my mind. One, the hearing officer said that if he saw me again, he was going to take a look at my good time. And two, Sherry said I couldn't get any tickets. Did this mean I'd lose my job?
Outside the hearing room, I waited in the same chairs that were used by inmates who waited for the infirmary. Black Diamond was sitting at the end of row.
"How you doing," I said, smiling. I felt guilty because I had been avoiding her.
"Well if it isn't Sleeping Beauty," Black Diamond said. She smiled.
"I guess you heard, huh?"
"I keep trying to tell you, girl. Ain't no secrets in here."
"What can I say," I said. "I guess I'm a slow learner."
"You'll be all right. You've already done half the max they can give you."
"I don't know about that," I said. "He threatened to look at my good time."
Black Diamond nodded, but no further reassurances came.
Just then, one of the convicts who always seemed to be making jokes about Black Diamond, walked up and sat down next to her. He leaned over and said to her a seductive voice, "How you doing, baby?"
"All right," Black Diamond answered, hesitantly.
"You know you're a fine motherfucker, right?"
Black Diamond nodded. "Uh-huh."
They looked at each other a moment, and then they both got up and crossed the hall. Black Diamond gave me a sly look as she closed the broom closet door.
I stared after them for a long time, thinking how this might be the only place in the world, where in that moment, Black Diamond was seen as a fine motherfucker. It was probably the only place where she could have such an active sex life.
I didn't know whether to be happy or sad for her.
It didn't seem right that I should be fired from my job for just one ticket, but Sherry had warned me ahead of time. I had screwed up, just like the guys on the paper said I would. I was going to miss everyone. We spent a lot of time in that newsroom talking about everything from prison gossip to urban politics. Josh and Spaulding usually had the most to say, but Sherry was active in a lot of our conversations. I was going to miss her more than anyone.
One conversation that stuck out with me most was when we talked about Judge Geraldine Bledsoe Ford of Detroit's Recorders Court.
"That sister is fierce," Lee had said. "She'd send a motherfucker, I mean, she'd send a brother away for nine hundred and ninety-nine years if she had that many pennies left in her coffee can."
"Yes," Sherry said, "but did you know that her grandfather was a slave?"
"Say what?"
"That's right. And her father was a sharecropper, but that didn't stop either one of them from getting a college education. I'll bet you didn't know that."
"Well, you'd think she'd cut the brothers some slack," 0. J. said.
Sherry said, "I think she has."
"How can you say that?" I asked.
Everyone looked over at me. I usually didn't have much to add, so I normally just sat there and listened.'Yeah," 0. J. said, "How
