Right Back at You

By Amin Suluki

What happens when prison reform goes wrong and criminals, hardened even more by the system, are at your door step wielding pistols and you were the judge who showed no mercy in the court room at sentencing time? Or you were the tough on crime lawmaker who mandated mandatory minimum prison terms that sent people away much longer than necessary and now, years later, youre staring in the eyes of a beast that you created and he knows exactly who you are. When the tables are turned should mercy be shown by those who made mistakes, but were shown no mercy?

Come take a ride as Amin Suluki, author of Take Down, details the lives of three individuals marched through the system and then released into society, Right Back At You. With feelings of bitterness, frustration and anger all built up inside, revenge is inevitable whether intentional or unintentional, directly or indirectly.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Mar 23, 2016
• ISBN: 9781504987066

Amin Suluki

Amin Suluki was born in Atlanta Georgia but grew up for the most part in New Jersey. He has also spent a good part of his adult life in North Carolina. Besides Take Down, he has authored the book, Right Back At You and has plans to release several more novels in the near future. You can contact him through his facebook page under the name Hanif Bro, or Amin Suluki. Or just email him your comments at [e-mail]

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© 2016 Amin Suluki. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 03/22/2016

ISBN: 978-1-5049-8695-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5049-8706-6 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 1

The sound of rattling chains could be heard aboard the mini prison bus as the Goldfish all but enjoyed the bumpy ride to their new home. Goldfish was the label given to anyone arriving at a North Carolina state prison for the first time. The term applied not only to new inmates, but to new correctional officers as well. It was an expression well known and widely used throughout the prisons. No one really knows when the term was first coined although there exists much speculation and controversy over the issue. Several old timers with more than thirty or forty years in the system, often lay claim to being the first to use it, all of them wanting to be looked at as an originator in a place where little things like that mean so much.

Nevertheless, regardless of who was the first to use this term, the reality was that everyone used it and this particular Friday morning three Goldfish would soon arrive to a shark tank.

Fifteen minutes away from their final destination & still no one spoke. With exception of an occasional glance at the other Goldfish, all eyes were fixed on the scenery outside the window which was viewed with nostalgia. All three were contemplating the prison sentence that they had just received, possible appeals and time cuts, but all knew quite well that even if they were lucky to get back into an appeals court, it would take time. In some cases several years, with that in mind, instead of torturing himself and longing for the streets that no longer longed for him, Kwani decided to turn his eyes away from the window and focus on this new life in the penitentiary. He glanced at the other two Goldfish for a few seconds and decided to break the silence.

How much time they hit y’all wit yo? Kwani asked. Both turned around and looked at him as if he had asked the wrong question. Or rather, at the wrong time. Both had been in the county jail for at least a year and the thought of missing the sight of a pretty woman walking down the street or passing by in a car just to talk to another inmate didn’t sit well with them. SO after giving Kwani a man you crazy look, their eyes made their way somewhere back out the window. A few more seconds of silence and one spoke up.

Them clowns was trying to give me twenty years for a ten dollar piece of rock. I had to take ‘a five year plea bargain. Quick said. Quick was his nickname, he was a drug addict who had been in and out of the prison system for the past ten years. Just his luck, three years ago a law had been passed called the Habitual Felon Act. It had targeted career criminals like Quick and aimed at putting them behind bars for a lengthy period of time on their third offense, even if it was something small. There had been many arguments on the opposing side of the bill that stated for drug addicts, programs should be started to help them fight their addictions and become productive citizens. They argued that locking them up does not treat their addictions but only costs tax payers thousands of dollars only to see them get out and come right back. But of course, the gung-ho, lock’em up & throw away the key mentality won through while the more humane and costly effective thing to do fell by the wayside. It was viewed as being soft on crime, & that was something that no aspiring politician wanted to be viewed as.

You from out there in Cumberland County? Kwani asked, raising his shackled hands up to his face to scratch his eyebrow.

Nah, I’m from Durham. I was just out here at some of my people’s house. Quick said.

"Oh you from the Bull City huh? Kwani asked. Bull city was a nickname for the city of Durham. He continued, I used to live out there with a chick named Tameeka Hughes on Corcoran St. You heard of her?"

Yeah, I know Tameeka. I know her whole family. In fact I used to run with one of her brothers named Kenny who got shot about ten years ago. Quick said. He cut his eyes out the window at a passerby. A black woman, mid thirties with a pretty face zoomed by.

What’s ya name man? Kwani asked.

Jeff, but they call me Quick.

Quick? Why they call you that?

Cause as many times as I been locked up I ain’t ever been caught by a cop on foot in the Bull City. Too quick. The only way they ever caught me was if they surrounded my house or my car.

How did they catch you this time? Kwani asked.

Coming out of my cousin house in Fayetteville.

On foot?

Yeah.

Well I guess you going to have to change your nickname now then huh? Kwani said with a smile. The third Goldfish, who had been silent up until now, turned from the window laughing at Kwani’s comment.

I’m forty four now and can’t move like I used to. Quick said. Kwani turned his attention to the other prisoner, a twenty one year old Puerto Rican from New York named Santiago. Always clean cut with a pretty boy face that drove women crazy. Puerto Rican women, white women, black women, young or old all loved him. He had a slick tongue capable of making the most conservative of women fall for him. Santiago sprung from a poor family, but never worked a day in his life. He was fortunate enough since high school to always have a woman to take care of him. But now, after a year and a half of sitting in the county jail his good looks have not benefited him at all. Many of the females he’s known in New York have no clue as to where he’s been and his main girl is on the verge of leaving him due to his charge and the amount of time he has.

What they got you in here for? Kwani asked, looking towards Santiago. He didn’t get an immediate response though. Santiago was a bit ashamed of his charge even though he didn’t view himself to be at fault. The girl had lied to him and if he had known the truth he would have never got involved with her. Truth of the matter is, it wasn’t so much as to what happened that had Santiago ashamed it was more so the name of the charge that he’d been charged with that made things so bad. The charge of taking indecent liberties with a minor sounded so bad if you told someone.

A bit hesitant at first, Santiago decided it wasn’t a big deal to let the guys know what he was in for. Besides, it wasn’t like he’d raped the girl.

My pops moved down here three years ago so I came down to visit him and got trapped off with this chick yo. Shorty told me she was eighteen, but come to find out she was only fifteen. If you would have seen her though you would’ve thought she was twenty five. I don’t know what y’all cats got in the water down here that be making them young chicks pack like that, but whatever the hell it is, it got me about to do a six to eight year bid son. Santiago said. His up north accent was apparent in every word that came out of his mouth.

Where you from? Quick asked.

New York

You went to trial or did you take a plea bargain for those six to eight? Kwani asked.

I went to trial son. I told them put twelve in a box. The chick lied to me but they ain’t even consider ·that shit. They laid my ass down. I think I got they ass on the appeal though. Na’mean? Santiago said.

Yeah I hear you. Kwani said, shaking his head. Quick shook his head in agreement as well.

We’ll be there in a couple of minutes fellows! one of the guards yelled through a small hole from the front of the bus. Silence prevailed once again as their thoughts raced to form images of what this particular penitentiary would be like. It would be a first time trip for Kwani and Santiago, but for Quick, even though he’d been in and out of prison about twelve times, he had never been to a high security penitentiary before. All of his previous sentences had been no longer than a year and were all served at minimum security prisons, some of which didn’t even have a fence around them.

I know that’s right. Quick added. Chains rattled as the bus hit a pothole.

So how much time they hit you wit yo? Santiago asked Kwani. Kwani shook his head seeming a bit disappointed. The expression on his face let both Santiago and Quick know that he’d been loaded up. Santiago would have felt ashamed for having posed the question had it not been that Kwani was the one who brought up the topic. kwani clenched his lips tightly together & then loosened them letting out a deep breath before he spoke.

They came at me with a three year plea bargain . . . Kwani said. He shook his head in disappointment as his lips tightened back up.

Three years! Santiago interjected. Aw man that ain’t shit." He added.

Yeah man what you all worried about? Plus the fact that I know you pulled at least a year in the county jail. That only leave you with about two years left. Quick threw in.

Kwani continued. I said that they offered me a three year plea bargain. I didn’t say I accepted it. I wasn’t going to take a plea for some shit I didn’t have anything to do with, so I went to trial. I lost and they gave me a life sentence. Kwani said.

"Damnnnnnnnnnnn! Santiago and Quick simultaneously said with amazement.

How the hell they go from offering you three years to giving you a life sentence? That shit ain’t right. Quick said. Kwani could do nothing but shake his head. It had been two years since the murders took place but Kwani remembered them in detail like it was yesterday.

It was a cold Saturday morning when Kwani left out of his grandmother’s house to go get some milk from the store about ten minutes away. Several houses down from home, a black Mercedes Benz with New York plates pulled up beside Kwani. The car looked like it was fresh off the lot, but due to its tinted windows and Kwani’s unfamiliarity with it, it had him a bit startled. Suddenly the passenger’s window rolled down and a familiar face popped out.

Eh my nigga where you headed? Kwani breathed a sigh of relief. It was his homeboy slim from across town. Kwani and slim hadn’t hung out a lot recently due to slims new occupation as a stick up kid. Word was out around the hood that Slim had robbed several drug dealers from out of town and they had been looking for him. So due to Slim’s laying low and Kwani not wanting to get caught up with him at the wrong time, their close relationship had quickly become distant. In fact, Kwani was shocked to even see Slim outside during the day when in recent months he was only known to move at night.

I’m about to hit Habeebi’s up right quick to get some milk for my cereal at the crib. I’m hungry as hell. Kwani said.

We headed in that direction, hop in my nigga, we’ll drop you off. Slim said. Kwani was a bit hesitant at first. What was Slim doing in this new Mercedes Benz? He thought. Who was the driver?. But upon further elaboration, the corner store was only a few blocks away which would only take a minute in a car. What possible danger could there be between here and there? He thought. Besides, it was a little cold out and the tinted Mercedes Benz looked warm.

As the Benz slowly pulled off, the warm black leather seats greeted Kwani with comfort.

Long time no see homey. Everything good? Slim asked.

Yeah, same ‘ol B.S. Working & trying to stay out of trouble Kwani said. He looked at the driver through the rear view mirror. It was someone he had never seen before. But with a New York baseball cap, black shades, black hoodie, and black leather gloves, it wasn’t hard for Kwani to figure out his occupation. Especially due to the fact that he was with Slim. As the saying goes, Birds of a feather flock together.

Working! What you mean working. Don’t tell me you got a job now. Slim asked, finding it a bit humorous.

Yeah I started working last month with my grandfather at his mechanic shop. I ain’t making much money right now because he still training me & shit. But I’ll be ’aight in a minute. Kwani said.

What? Nigga, ya pops was the biggest gun dealer around the hood, and you used to hustle guns for him. You know that shit in and out. You know how much doe in that and you tell me you working at ya grandfather sorry ass mechanic shop across town. Slim said in disbelief.

Yeah and where my father at now? Kwani asked. Slim didn’t respond. I ain’t trying to go out like that. Kwani added. Slim left the subject alone. He knew what Kwani was referring to and he knew Kwani’s father well. In fact he used to buy guns from him along with almost everyone else in the Raleigh Durham area who was, for whatever reason, in the gun purchasing business. Kwani’s father was big time in the underground