Sister Souljah - Life After Death

Before my death, this was my point to the prison chaplain, who along with the prison social worker and the prison psyche were all the biggest frauds. Furthermore, they existed not to cure or correct or inspire us. They were not qualified to do any of that anyway. They were a trio of broken-down bitches barely holding their own lives together, strategically placed and meagerly paid to take out their misery on the prisoner bitches who they stupidly thought were beneath them. Point-blank they were there to interrupt the gangs, crews, cliques, and families we formed to protect and provide for ourselves, instead of obeying any of the bullshit they was all peddling that, put together, all added up to nothing.

I was one prisoner who they couldn’t access. I was one who didn’t ever and never ever would confess or confide in them. When they talked, I’d think of other things, listen to music in my mind. I’d give ’em the glare of the blank stare and the torture of silence. They said I needed an exorcism, whatever the fuck that is. They couldn’t send me to church by force. So they tugged at my team. They even targeted my cellmate, a bitch named Veronica. She wasn’t one of my original Brooklyn crew. She was from Queens claiming Queensbridge. That was a reputable hood on my hood map but wasn’t the reason I put her on. I put her on with my team because me and Veronica was locked up in the same small cell, sitting on the same toilet, spitting in the same sink. She was watching even if she pretended not to be watching me. She could clock my movements, intercept or read my kites and letters, and count my contraband. I jumped her into the gang so she would understand our routine, participate when we breaking the rules, and maintain the confidence of the crew because of the threat that she would also be held responsible if we got caught doing the shit we do.

Next thing I know, Simone da Beast said she saw Veronica coming out of Chaplain Kaplan’s office. She left it up to me to find out what my cellmate was doing in there, what Chaplain was asking her, what Veronica was saying, and who she was telling on.

“Heard you was chopping it up with Chap,” I said casually. It was lights out and we was both laid out in our bunks.

“Something like dat. I didn’t say nothing in case that’s why you asking about it,” Veronica denied instantly.

“Nah, I know you ain’t no snitch. You know better,” I said softly.

“So what about it then?” Veronica turned the question back on to me.

“Chap’s the one I don’t trust. What did she ask you?”

“She was doing her job, talking about Jesus and saving my soul.”

“Why you was listening to that shit?” I asked her.

“I’m doing fifteen same as you. That’s a long time. I’m scoping out the benefits.” Then she added, “Chaplain got a jar of caramels. I heard another mate talking about it. She was like if you listen to Chaplain’s Jesus stories, Chap will let you chew her caramels,” Veronica said, then laughed.

“Chap got you open with a piece of candy?” I said, letting Veronica hear how ridiculous she sounded. “So all you did was listen?” I asked, still measuring the threat.

“Yeah. I figured if she got caramels, she got some other shit in her stash. So I listened a long time.”

“And what did you get out of it?” I pushed. Veronica went silent for some seconds.

“Chap has a few steaks in her stash. I ain’t taste nothing that good in a while. She threw butter on her beef. I got hooked. After I started chowing down while listening to what Chaplain was saying, it all started to make sense to me. She was talking about sins in a slick way. Like not asking me about confessing my sins but just telling me about what sins are; like lying, cheating, stealing, murdering, coveting other people’s stuff, having sex without being married, sleeping with someone’s husband or wife, shit like that. She was telling me how to confess, pray and apologize to the Lord for my sins and say certain prayers and then I’ll receive blessings from doing that.”

“That bitch is lying,” I said swiftly. “First of all, me and you is both serving ‘mandatory minimums.’ Do you know what the word mandatory means? It means that that shit is nonnegotiable. No matter what you do in here on the inside, even if you kiss the warden’s ass and the chaplain’s ass, and the social worker’s ass, and the psych’s ass, and all the C.O.’s asses, you ain’t getting out till you hit fifteen years’ time served . You can pray to the warden, the judge, the jury, Jesus, whoever! You ain’t getting out no earlier than fifteen. Don’t let her run that psych on you .”

“True dat, but Chaplain was talking about if human beings don’t give our lives to Jesus, and apologize to the Lord for our sins, and stop living sinfully, the only place our souls will go is to hell.” Veronica sounded like she was going for Chap’s talk.

“That’s pimp talk,” I told Veronica. “Chap’s a pimp and so is Jesus. Hell, even a pimp on the street only demands that you give him some of the money you pull in while working your body. Jesus demands that you give your life to him! Check it out. Chaplain stole some steaks from the staff café. She fed it to you, an inmate. Both things, stealing and contraband is illegal. She’s a lying bitch who pretends everybody else should tell on themselves. She don’t tell on herself. Chap even got a girlfriend. You know C.O. Baker, the one with the close-cropped boy haircut who works in the other building but we see her on the yard? Her and Chap are lovers.”

“So what?” Veronica said passionately.

“I agree, so fucking what! No big deal, right?” I was ’bout to show her. “A lot of chicks on lock got their girl lovers. You know why? Because that’s what they want to do. That’s who they picked and that’s their choice, right?” I asked.

“Hell yeah that’s right,” Veronica agreed.

“But meanwhile, Chap doesn’t want to let you do what you want to do, choose what you want to choose. Chill with who you want to chill with. Chap says you gotta confess your sins and stop or else you going to hell. But Chap ain’t confessing her sins and even if she was, she damn sure ain’t stopping her stealing, smuggling, or her relationship with C.O. Baker who I know through the vine is actually married with some other woman! All that shit is a sin, even according to Chap. But not according to me. So what’s up with that? And if there really is a hell, and Chap knows she’s going there ’cause she’s still sinning and not stopping, it must not be too bad of a place to go, or she must not really believe in what she saying in the first place.” I wrapped up my campaign to snatch back my girl Veronica so she wouldn’t break our crew or eventually flip and betray us.

“I never thought about it from that angle,” Veronica said after a long pause. “But according to Chap, Jesus died for all of our sins.”

“Let’s say he did. Whoever he is anyway. I don’t trust people I can’t see, didn’t grow up with, ain’t from the same hood or at least from the same circumstance. But let’s say he died so we can sin, which sounds like mean pimp game. Then why is Chap sweating you then? Jesus threw away his life, washed your sins away, hers and everybody else’s. That means everybody is free to do whatever the fuck we want to do. Jesus, whoever that is, took the fall for everybody? That’s what Chap said. Chap’s still doing what she wants to do, even though she knows she’s sinning. So we all even-steven. If everybody minds their own fucking business and does whatever the fuck they want to do, and don’t try to judge, block, stop or control anybody else’s life or choices, it’s all good, right?” I could see in her eyes that my reasoning was working on her. To seal it, I asked her, “So who you suppose to be praying to if Jesus is dead?”