Page 76 of Butterfly 6, Phase 1

“On your feet, inmates!”

The bark of the C.O. made Henny’s internal alarm ring as his senses heightened. He tucked the half-finished weapon under his mattress and scrambled to his feet. He was barely able to carry the weight of his own shoulders. His entire ribcage was on fire. It felt like one good punch would end him. Henny hoped they didn’t do a random search. Cells had been tossed earlier in the week. There shouldn’t have been a reason for another shake-down. If he were caught with the makings of a shank, they’d throw him in the hole. He took the risk of making it anyway because if the inmates caught him without it, they’d toss him in a grave. He didn’t know what was worse, defending himself against the other inmates, or the guards. Both were imminent threats, and to his surprise, the Black officers were the worst of them all. Both men stood to their feet as the C.O. stood in front of the steel door. “Face the wall, hands behind your back.”

Hendrix did as he was told, as his mind raced. He never knew what to expect in this place. The guards would toss a bunk at 3 a.m. if they felt like it. He had seen naked brawls in the showers, niggas stabbed up over card games, and men cooking full jail meals using metal stairs and candles. He’d seen men visit with their girls, then hear moans from sexual favors being exchanged in the middle of the night between bunkies. Jailhouse rules prevailed. What happened inside stayed inside. It was like the apocalypse, and every second, Hendrix felt extreme fear. There was no moment of calm; at all times, he had to be hyper-vigilant. It was terrifying. Despite his fears, Henny never showed it. He kept his chin up and his shoulders squared, because he knew if he looked weak, he would be tried again, but this trap was a living nightmare.

“You got a visit, inmate,” the C.O. growled in his ear, slapping on steel cuffs and squeezing the circulation out of his wrists as he jerked him backward out of the cell.

Hendrix felt like a rag doll the way they snatched him around, but he said nothing. The inmates weren’t the only threat inside. The guards were the most vicious of all. He just wanted to walk his time down and stay out of the way.

He was escorted to the visitors’ room, and he watched Bella’s eyes switch from anxious and eager to mortified and terrified in one blink. She cupped her mouth with one hand, and her shoulders shook as effortless tears pooled in her eyes. Panic and sorrow caved her chest in. Her legs felt like they were made of regret. They no longer carried her. I left him in here, she thought as she cried for him. She was sure that Henny was likely the love of her life, and she had driven away while he was trapped. Seven years of this. He didn’t want her there, but if she didn’t come, who would? How could she stay away when stuff like this was happening to him?

Bella’s presence moved potent emotion through his chest. He couldn’t tell what he was feeling because he experienced it all at once. He loved Bella. The pedestal she stood on in his mind was high, almost unreachable, and it was that part of him that felt inadequate, especially now. That part of him was angry at her for even coming. She was going places. She would see the world, but he couldn’t even see the daylight. This visit was a harsh reminder that he was going nowhere. While she was out living, he would be inside these concrete walls, dying. His eyes burned, and he was sick to his stomach as he sat in front of her. Embarrassment filled him as he grabbed the phone. He tried to put on a tough face for her, but as soon as they locked eyes, his pain spilled out. Her world was cracked wide open, and Bella received it, received him. He had been tortured. She could see how broken he was, and not just on the outside. His spirit was gone.

He didn’t say anything as he sat before her battered and bruised. Even still, Bella’s eyes were eager and bright. The hope that lived in them, even when faced with horrific circumstances, reflected the goodness Ethic had instilled in her. It was a mirror image of her privilege, of her naivety, of her freedom. He had never felt like he couldn’t relate to Bella until now. She offended him, and he knew that wasn’t fair. He was taking his situation out on her because he had nowhere else to put his fear…his anger… but still, he felt it. “Why are you here, Boog?”

“Are you okay?” Bella asked, eyes overflowing with sadness. “Who did this to you?” Bella frantically put her hand on the glass. “Henny?”

Hendrix looked around wearily, paranoia keeping him alert, and then leaned back in his chair without answering her. He rubbed the back of his neck and turned his eyes to the sky before rolling them back down to meet hers. His mannerisms communicated disinterest. He could see his actions shake Bella’s confidence a bit. He wanted to handle her differently. He wanted to tell her he loved her, but he saw the way the other inmates were tuned into his visit. If he revealed Bella to be a weak spot, niggas would find a way to exploit it. So, he gave her nothing. No love. No appreciation for her making the four-hour drive. No smile. Bella shivered; he was so cold. It was something he had never been. They had always connected beyond the surface. He had seen more than a spoiled daddy’s girl, and she had seen more than a misunderstood block boy. He knew she didn’t recognize him. They felt like strangers sitting across from each other, waiting for an introduction.

“You’re already so different,” Bella said sadly into the phone. If she could break him out with her bare hands, she would. Bella would take his hand and run as fast as she could with him towards freedom, but she couldn’t.

“This place will do that. What’s up? What you want?” Hendrix asked. His level of indifference was insulting. As many nights as she had tossed and turned thinking of him, she had assumed he had done the same. She saw no happiness in his eyes when he looked at her. She sensed anger, and as much as she wanted to be tough, it hurt her feelings. She had jumped through hoops to sneak away and be here for him. She had taken a lot of time out of every day since he had been sentenced to dwell on him… on them.

Bella stared Hendrix in the eyes, and her gaze was so intense he felt like she would magically come through the glass. “Don’t do that. Don’t let this place do this to you. You are better than this place, Henny. I can tell my daddy. He can help.” Bella was angelic. She was pure. And she was going to go out into the world and give all that purity away. He hoped she made niggas work hard for it. I would have, Henny thought. Most women held value between their thighs. Bella was a stunning girl, but it was her mind and soul that were her superpowers. He had just started to discover its depths when they had been torn apart. He hated that another nigga would learn her first. He was jealous because he knew that in addition to learning Bella, whoever she fell in love with would also teach her some things. That’s just the way relationships worked, and he knew the next time he saw her, the things she learned from another man would make her a stranger.

“Don’t tell Ethic, shit. Affiliation don’t help in here. It’ll make it worse. Don’t tell my business to nobody, Boog. Promise me,” Henny said angrily. “Nobody asked you to fucking come.”

“I want to fight for you, Hendrix,” Bella said. “You’re worth fighting for!”

“Boog, go home. You wasting your time. I thought I cut you loose the last time. Get the fuck on. You deaf or something?” Hendrix held firm and played hard, but he took mental snapshots of Bella Okafor. The way her neck hollowed and tensed from the intensity of what she felt in this moment was enchanting. She was so delicate, such a lady. A dark beauty with pretty eyes that he could see a whole lifetime in, and raven-colored hair that coiled in thick tufts down her back. Bella looked like she was magical. An ethereal queen in the making. There wasn’t a scar in sight on her smooth skin, and her lips shone like she had applied a fresh coat of gloss before she walked through the door. Her baby hairs painted swirls on her forehead, and her hair was in a tight ponytail on top of her head. She was stunning. She was free. A student looking to explore the world, eager to experience something new, things she hadn’t seen, foods she hadn’t tasted, and she had planned to include him in her journey. There was beauty in the shared dreams of two people as young as they were. You could build generations off the innocence of those dreams. Hendrix had fumbled greatly, and he knew it. Ethic had raised a beautiful girl, and Hendrix would miss out on her greatness. By the time he got out, if he even made it out, he would be a memory, a boy she used to know when she was young. He would likely be a regret, by the time he breathed free air. The jailbird boyfriend who had almost thrown her entire life off track.

“Cut me loose? You sound stupid, and you’re not stupid, so what’s really tea, Henny?” Bella asked.

Hendrix rolled his eyes and slouched in his chair, rolling his neck away and refusing eye contact. “Henny,” Bella insisted.

He glanced in her direction, and as soon as their eyes met, he was stuck.

“You look different,” Bella noticed. It wasn’t even the bald head that shook her. Hair was just hair; it could grow back. The change lived in his eyes. There used to be light in them. They used to dance in excitement, like Henny was ready to take over the world with nothing but his hustle and unmatchable wit. They were dull now, hopeless. Some monster had beaten the hope out of him. The change in him made her chest sink in. The sorrows of her soul bled out in her shaky voice. “You’re even breathing different. I can’t catch your rhythm.” He watched her chest rise and fall. They used to measure their breaths. Their young love had their hearts beating in sync, but they were out of alignment. “You’re letting this place turn you into somebody you’re not.”

“It sounds good, Boog. I’m in this bitch, not you. I can’t stay the same. You either learn how to survive in here or you die. So, take your little motivational speeches back to daddy.”

“Hendrix, you don’t have to waste the time you spend in here. I’ve been doing my research. There are programs, college degrees, trades, you can earn while you’re…”

“This ain’t no kid shit, Bella! I ain’t worried about no bullshit-ass courses. You know what I’m focused on? Not letting one of these bitch-ass niggas catch me slipping. I’m worried about keeping my eyes open, so they don’t try to prove no more points on my name. Grown-ass niggas in here getting tortured. Raped. Murdered. Even if I can avoid catching smoke from now on, you know what it’s like to see that shit? To hear grown men crying from their cells every fucking night in the pitch black? I ain’t gon’ never be who you knew again. Stop looking for a silver lining. If I don’t die in here, the shit I’ma live through gon’ change me into the type of man that don’t deserve to be nowhere near a girl like you. Go home and don’t come the fuck back, Bella! You’re a little-ass girl with stars in your eyes about some shit that will never happen. I ain’t got time for that. Stop having more faith than a nigga got in himself.” Hendrix was fed up with this crystal ball Bella was gazing into. She had told him a story of a future that was full of wishes fulfilled and dreams that had come true. It’s never gonna fucking happen. I wish she would just get the fuck out of here. “I never want to see you again, Boog. You come back here, and I’ma hurt your fucking feelings cuz I ain’t walking out here to see you. Don’t write. Don’t wait for my calls. Don’t visit. Leave me the fuck alone and quit fucking up my head with your spoiled bullshit.”

“Hendrix, everybody deserves a second chance,” Bella hissed. “You’re giving up.” She reached into her bag and pulled out the paperwork she had printed. “Look, I found all these programs you could enroll in while you’re in here. You’re not like everybody else in here. Your life doesn’t have to be over.”

“Go’n with all that,” Hendrix dismissed, slouching further in his seat, and sucking his teeth.

“Henny, just look at…”

“Everybody ain’t like you!” The bass in his voice caused her to gasp. “I ain’t got a rich daddy stacking the deck in my favor. Life don’t hand niggas like me the rock twice,” Hendrix fussed. Hendrix was seconds away from crying, but instead, he pushed back from the table violently, hitting the phone against the window. “I can’t ball! Game’s over for me! Don’t come back!”

Bella sat stoically, appearing calm, but the blow of his rejection toppled her emotions. She wanted to go off, but she remembered something her father had taught her in that moment.

“Let your mind react to rage before your body answers the call, baby girl.”

She heard his voice in her mind as clear as day, and it was the only thing that kept her from flipping on Henny.