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morning he awakens feeling better. Malik and Joyce went to see their mother at the Metropolitan Correctional Center, a federal prison located at Van Buren and Dearborn Street in downtown Chicago. Malik told the uniformed male correctional officer sitting behind steel grated window that they had came to visit and he asked what the charges were.
The officer typed on a computer, watched the bluish-green screen and finally said, “Your mother and brothers are charged with conspiracy to deliver a controlled substance; crack cocaine, and violation of the Rico Act. Their bond is one million dollars each. You can visit your mother for a half-our, your brothers are in court.”
The officer pushed a button and steel door slowly swung open but quickly closed after they entered. Another uniformed officer led them into a small room with no windows or furniture except a table with five chairs. Malik and Joyce sat down at the table. A few minutes later, a uniformed female officer led Barbara into the room. The guard positioned herself by the door. Barbara was wearing an orange jumpsuit and orange slippers and she was wearing a hair net. She had chain-linked cuffs on her angle and wrist, but she looked better than she had in years as Malik and Joyce rushed to hug her.
“No touching,” the officer said before they could hug their mother.
The female officer was a tall and muscular blond white woman. A tight bun held her graying hair in place. She had a stern expression and her blues eyes seemed to inspect Malik and his sister, she reminded Malik of the big Russian women who participated in the Olympics. Her blue uniform was perfectly starched and pressed.

Startled, Malik and Joyce backed away and they all took their seats at the table. Malik and Joyce sat across from their mother as the officer resumed her position in front of the door.
“How you guys doing, it so good to see you both, Barbara said.”
“It good to see you too mom, how you doing?” Joyce asked.
“Ok, I guess, “Barbara responded.
“What happened with you and the boys?” Malik asked.
“Bennie asked Pops if he could set up shop at 53rd Federal and he reluctantly agreed, probably because of you, he suggested that we wait until you got back, but Bennie convinced him to let up operate now. Things were going good, after a while we got all setup with a blower and a hawker, and we were doing two or three grand a day, what we didn’t know it was all feds money.
One night about 10:30, all the DEA and FBI agents in Chicago came down on us. Those swat team guys in their black suits and masks and their big guns surrounded us. They were pointing their guns at us like we were Al Capone or something. The next thing I knew one of our best customers was handcuffing us and putting me in one car and the boys in two other cars. The next day we were in court in front of this nigger judge and he set bail at one million apiece, that was the last time I saw the boys.”
“That will be three million dollars to get you’ll all out,” Malik said.
“You know Malik, don’t worry about me. It might do me some good to be in here, maybe I can clean myself up, I’m tired of this drug life I have been living so long, just take care of Joyce for me.”
Malik got up to walk around the table to hug his mother, but the officer sternly said, “No physical contact.”
Malik sat back down.
“Mom, I know this might not be the time or place, but I have always been curious about your life. I remember when we lived with Grandma Lill and Aunt Dianne, but what was your young life like.”
Barbara looked at her son and daughter for a moment before answering.
“I had a happy childhood, and your Grandma Lill was always there for me and tried to give me everything I wanted. She was a strong and a good woman. After your great grandma Fatmama was killed, she became the head of the family. She raised your great uncles Billy and Johnnie and your great aunts Diane and Elizabeth. Billy and Johnnie moved to Detroit when they were eighteen and Elizabeth got married after getting pregnant when she was sixteen, I lost contact with Diane. The last time I seen them was when they came to mama’s funeral in 1997. Anyway, when I was in high school I fell in love, or thought I was in love with this boy named Burke, boy he was a looker, light skinned, curly black hair and the darkest eyes you ever want to see. One night when mama was gone to a church meeting or something, he came over and we had sex. The next thing I knew I was pregnant with the twins. When I told Burke about it he didn’t believe the baby was his and called me all kind of whores and things and stopped seeing me, but mama was right there for me though; she said “We will just have to put more water in the soup.” After the boys were born, Burke’s mother and father came to see them and there was no doubt that their son was the father. They convinced mama and me to let them raise the boys until I got myself together. We agreed and the boys moved in with them, but boy did I miss my babies.
Winston Hill was your daddy, Malik, he was a nice guy, intelligent and had a good job as the manager of a nigger bank. He was going to a junior college taking some kind of business courses. He really loved me and was nice to the twins. We would take them to the park and have picnics and shit. We were not married but moved in together. He got a promotion, we bought a little house at 6501 South Eberheart, and things were going good. When you came along, man was he happy and proud. He bought you all kind of toys and clothes and would take you to the bank and show you off. I was the perfect little homemaker and mother. I made sure dinner was ready when he got home; the house and the babies were clean. I gave him all the loving a woman could and I thought he was happy. Well anyway, he started messing around with some white heifer at work and I believe that she started him fuckin with drugs. Well anyway, he starts coming home later and later. His excuse was he had late meetings or some other bullshit. Next thing I know he wasn’t coming home at all. When he would come home, he would high as a muthafucka. At the time, I didn’t know shit about drugs, but I knew something was wrong. One night I sneaked into his den and saw him sticking a needle into his arm. He saw me and talked me into taking a hit, he said it would make me feel good. He was right; I had never felt that good. After that, all we would do is shoot up. You would be crying with a diaper full of shit, the twins were hungry and taking care of themselves, but I didn’t give a shit, all I wanted was the dope. Soon everything went to shit, first he loses his job, and then we were evicted from our house. I sent the boys to live with their father’s people and I and you moved in with mama Lill. I heard later, that your daddy was killed by the dope men he owed money. You stayed with Mama and Diane until I came and got you.”

“Yeah, I remember that day,” Malik said.
“What about me,” Joyce asked.
Barbara did not have the heart to tell her daughter that she was a trick baby, conceived in an abandon car, in the alley and under the elevator tracks at 43rd South Calumet Avenue. A john had gave her $10.00 for a blowjob and a fuck, and that her other sons had been conceived in a similar way.
So she said, “I met your father when I was a waitress in a dirty little eat joint called Chili Mac, he was the cook and one thing led to another and here you come.” I didn’t trust no one to be with my little girl so you stayed with me and later I got the twins and Malik.”
“When did you get strung out on the drugs?” Malik asked.
“I had been fuckin’ around for a while after your father was killed, smoking pot, skin poppin' and the like. My first hit of crack did it, the pain left and I felt soo good I didn’t want to stop, then I couldn’t stop, and that did it.”
The female officer motioned to Barbara that time was up, Barbara got out the chair and quickly hugged Malik and Joyce before the guard could say anything. For once Malik did not get the sickening smell of cheap perfume, booze, and funk, he hugged her back. When they got home, Malik called Eli and told him what had happened.

Chapter 31

Maggie and Mack met Eli and Yolanda at the Warsaw Indiana Airport. It was a small airport that mainly serviced small private planes on the outskirts of the city. It was mid-December and it was cold and snowing.
“It is so good to see you Eli,” Maggie said, hugging Eli.
“It good to see you Aunt Maggie, let me introduce you to my fiancée Yolanda,” said Eli.
Maggie and Mack both hugged Yolanda and welcomed her to Indiana.
“Eli wrote and told us about you,” Mack said while getting their luggage, we feel we know you already.”
“Thank you, Eli has told me a lot about you too and he told me Indiana was cold, but this something else.”
“Why don’t you and Maggie gets in the car, we’ll be ready to go in a few,” Mack said.
In a few minutes, Eli and Mack had packed the luggage in the trunk of the car. Once in the car the heater was on high and it felt good.
“What is the weather like this time of year in Africa?” Mack asked Yolanda.
“Your winters are our summers; it’s probably in the 90’s there now, our winters are usually in the high 70’s or 80’s. I have never seen snow before except on the high mountain tops.”
“That’s where we need to be Mack,” Maggie said, they all laughed.
Mack drove Yolanda and Eli home and said, “I know you two are probably tired, so get some rest and we are looking forward to seeing you tomorrow for dinner.”
“I’m going to cook Yolanda a good old soul food dinner,” Maggie said smiling.
“That sound great auntie, we will see you tomorrow.”
After helping Eli unload the car, Maggie, and Mack drove off. Eli showed Yolanda the apartment. The apartment was located on Pikes’ street. The rear door led to Pike’ Lake and the front faced a cur de sac. It
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