Words | vickilclark

This short story was the first written after my incarceration. It was awarded Essence magazine's honorable mention for fiction. The characters are Fictional and composite, but the story is autobiographical.

Celebration of Survival

Raindrops trickled down the narrow airtight window of the eight-by-nine cubicle that had been her home since 1988. Laura Deneice Tripp spent her last moments in the Northern California Women's Facility "Trippin" on the sinister effects abusing cocaine had been on her and members of her family since leaving Colorado in search of a California dream. She was known as Neicy to old friends who likened her to "nice and neat, pleasantly sweet" until extensive use of the drug. Then, the same folks grumbled, "though smart as a whip, that girl's a real stone trip," and the last name fits like a glove.
Neicy's last three years, eight months, four days in the greenish-gray cave had made her reclusive. The only times she went outside the unit was to go to her job or to write appeals for inmates. Few knew of her wonderful sense of humor and ability to perform comedic routines with the adeptness of Whoopi Goldberg. Her bunkmates witnessed hilarious imitations of staff and some of the inmates who thought themselves the crème de la crème of the institution.

Only a butterfly changing from a moth had gone through as many changes as she since relocating to the bitter honey of San Diego. Unless you were military or ex-military, the native's attitudes shattered dreams of permanency in "America's finest city ". It may have been a fine place for climatic reasons, but there was deceptiveness; the people were as cold as Colorado winters. She was hired by General Dynamics, a government contractor, as the only African American in management; she'd experienced bias almost immediately. The whites were suspicious of her qualifications…..that was to be expected, the backlash of her folks was not. They felt she was a "white man's Negro” because of the way she spoke.

Many were from the deep South and had retained their accents, but what did that do with anything? In Denver, there were migrates from the South. The migrated population was about the same as San Diego's because of the military installations. But, Denver was a mountain-friendly city were hello and good mornings were the norm. In San Diego, if you spoke or smiled at strangers, it was looked on with a degree of suspicion. Neicy also thought there would be more unity in the Black community since it was less than seven percent of its population. She was wrong. There was more division and less cohesion in the Southeast section of the town than in any other part. She'd gone through a couple of uncomfortable experiences dealing with her people, but the one that affected her the most was the time she'd gone to Morley Field to play tennis after James had gone out of town unexpectedly. They planned to get in the mix of SD by doing some "in" things, and tennis seemed like an activity the family could enjoy together. To be one upon her husband, she'd gone to the courts alone. While practicing a serve, a brother started harassing her from a seat in the bleachers. Two white men and a woman rescued her by inviting her to play doubles with them. After the game, she went to the drinking fountain, and the heckler appeared. He snarled she was a wanna-be white bitch that preferred white boys and caviar to brothers and collard greens. Astounded, she'd left the courts and later that evening did coke without James for the first time. That was the beginning of solo indulgence. James' frequent out-of-town trips for IBM made days creep into nights. Her daughter's company was not enough to alleviate the loneliness and the aloneness. Finding cocaine smoothed out edges and soothed emotional upheaval, she began using excessively….failing to recognize her addiction until she was jobless and a wanted fugitive.

"Hey, Tripp! Unlock is over. Get that door shut." A loud voice boomed over the speaker near the air vent over the toilet sink.
"I'm goin' home today."
"So soon?" the voice teased. Hardy, aka hardass, was the corrections officer on the day shift. He was by the book and matter-of-fact way of talking. Neicy thought him mean until working with him at the Commissary. He had a dry sense of humor with a delivery that made it even funnier. "Didn't feel like home to ya, huh?"
"Not on your life," chuckled Neicy.
"Okay, well, get your things, and come on out." The voice box clicked off.
Neicy sighed, looking at the cement cracked floor disgustedly. In less than an hour, her space would be filled with another inmate. In California, women were incarcerated at a ridiculous rate because of crimes associated with drug use. Instead of treatment on-demand programs, the state offered a cell.
The disproportionate number of addicts in drug rehab was five to one to those in prison. Prison cells did not give you the tools to stop using cocaine. The experience is unlike any other. There is an almost climatic sensation….. your mind becomes clear, and everything is precise. There's this beckoning of sorts that gives in to the craving of the same sensation. Smoking coke has a deadly effect on the brain. The high never leaves your mind. It was like visiting a paradise-like island, and although a venom-filled insect bit you while there, you knew you would one day return.
The cell door slid open, and shouts were heard throughout the unit.
"Stay free, Girlfriend."
"You can make it, Tripp! We're praying for you."
"Don't come back. Life's a blast outside of here."

Her eyes clouded, and sadness crept from her insides. The anxiousness she'd felt when she came to prison was there again. Then, she'd been apprehensive and frightened of the new world she was entering. Now, it was because she was leaving the familiar. Contrary to belief, behind the walls were some dynamic, intelligent women whose lives were changed only when they became addicted to drugs or the things associated with living a good life in California.

Waving goodbyes, she walked out of the unit. As she made her way across the greenery with splashes of flower color, she thought of the task she now had ahead of her. James had divorced her and disappeared. Searching for employment when she had no work history for four years was going to be another obstacle. Her college degree would be a plus, but the fraud conviction would overshadow the lore. Hopefully, returning to Denver would help. She needed family security even it meant fessing up to stealing money for drugs the day she was arrested.

When Neicy reached the reception area, she approached the female officer.
"Ms. Tripp going home today?" asked the smiling face.
"You know it." Her voice was shaky, as were her hands clutching the paperwork for her release.
The officer motioned her forward, reaching around the desk. She hugged her tightly. "You will be just fine. The worse part is over. Are you going back to Denver?"
"I have to. California was a nightmare for me."
"The family will be glad to have you home."
"I did some things….."
"Families are forgiving….especially our people. And, let's face it. You are not the same person you were in active addiction. Let's get these papers signed, so we can get you out of here."
The officer signaled the tier operator in the tower above their heads. Seconds later, the white doors opened to a carpeted waiting area where a lone woman sat, leafing through pages of a magazine.
"Cee Cee!"
"Neicy!"

The two greeted each other with simultaneous bear hugs, tears flowing freely from them both. For seven of the eight years, Neicy lived in San Diego, the two were inseparable. They met and formed a friendship when Neicy went to TJ Maxx near the base. Cee Cee was the store manager and had taken a personal interest in the bounteous woman who seemed to be calculating everything in her mind as she cruised through the store. When she approached Neicy, the first thing she noticed was her easy smile. After Cee Cee found Neicy interested in jewelry for Karen, she pulled some necklaces from the Management Stash, and their friendship began.
"How did you know I was getting today?" Neicy asked, wiping at her eyes.
"I called. Girl, I was so messed up after I cut you off when you needed me the most…."
"I needed to be cut off. I remember how nasty I was to you when you said you weren't going to send me the money when I was on the run."
"I couldn't. I was smoking tough, too. My boss found out I took some money right after you did what you did at General Dynamics. I had to repay it or he was going to file on me."
"You were that bad?"
"Hell, yeah! I thought you knew……"
"No, I was too out there to see anything except that pipe. It cost me, too." She glanced at the white doors that closed the caged women away from the rest of the world. "I feel so scared now. Things are different since I came in here."
"Wait a minute! It's not like you have been locked up for a decade. Of course, there are a few changes, but you can handle them. "
Her friend took her hand, squeezing gently.
"Let's go before you start….."
"Trippin!" They screamed in unison, swinging each other around in a circle like small girls, playing ring around the rosy.

The officers in the hatch above shrugged and turned back to the monitors with pictures of the yard and fences. They'd seen women do strange things when they walked through the doors to freedom.

Winding down Highway 17 to I 580 where San Jose merged into the coastal cities of Santa Cruz and Monterey, the friends gossiped and reveled in the beauty of the Pacific seacoast. As they drove south through San Luis Obispo towards Santa Barbara, Oxnard, Malibu, Santa Monica, Neicy was serene for the first time since her arrest. Enjoying the pleasant company of a woman she could trust was a joy, but she was a bit edgy. She'd been so distant emotionally while living in the city of women, and it was going to take a while before she thawed out. Behind the walls, the sound was constant. Keys jingled, doors slammed, and always, even, in the still of night, voices…..unsettling cries of women.
When they arrived in San Diego eight hours later, Neicy smiled at the visual beauty of the postcard city. Gazing at the crystal blue waters, the islands, and dancing colorful palms and flowers of Mission Bay, she wondered if life here would have been different if she had not used cocaine.
The first time was celebrating a second anniversary and the move to a warmer climate. James said they were going to spend a quiet evening at home alone. Karen was delighted because she got to do an overnighter at a classmate's house. When Neicy arrived home, James was buzzing around the kitchen. Minutes later, a caterer appeared with a French-inspired meal complete with champagne and expensive white cognac.
After the dinner, James grinned slyly and went into his home office and retrieved a silver tray. A chemical test tube, a bubble glass pipe, Bacardi 151 rum, and a clear vial of white powder coke were on the tray. Neicy watched curiously as his behavior became animated. Chattering excitedly, he poured water in the tube with a pinch of baking soda. Then, he put the coke from the vial in the tube. He lit a q tip after dipping the end in the rum and held it inches from the tube. Seconds later, the milky substance foamed, and then a glob of oil appeared in the corner. James dropped a squib of cold water from the glass of ice on the table into the tube, and the oil formed a hard white rock.
"It's soup." exclaimed her husband, in a voice she'd never heard come from him. He put the bottle to his ear and shook it gently. A clinking sound made him smile.
"That's it, Baby. It's ready." He motioned for her to sit on his lap while he chopped the rock with a razor blade. When it was in small pieces, he put one on the bubble pipe and lit the q tip again.
"Come on. Give it a try."
"No, honey. You go ahead."
"Come on. We're celebrating."
"No, James…" she'd protested. But, the tip of the glass was already touching her lips.
"Shhhhh…..inhale. Hold it in your lungs, and then slowly let it out."
"Oh, okay."

Minutes later, the notes of Joe Sample's "Carmel" carved a black and white picture in her mind. She saw the piano keys rising and falling between the spaces of the flickering candlelight on the table. The music got louder, and she leaned forward, thinking she heard a voice come from the closest speaker.
"What's that?'
"Nothing, Honey," James answered, his voice somewhere in the mix of the music.
"I heard someone."
"That's the high. Your senses get overly sensitive. No one said anything." He pulled at the brass screens in the bowl. "I think I burned it up. Damn. Fire too close". The tone of his voice was barely a whisper.
"You burned what up?"
"I'm gonna burn you up." His lips trailed kisses along the nape of her neck until he reached the crevice where her ample breasts came together. Sucking the material of her LaPerla lace bra, he whispered, "Let's get real wild tonight."

"Okay," was all she could manage as the familiar heat rose in her lower region.
The couple made love in every room, in every position, imagined. After the lovemaking, the chunky rock was slivers and powder, as it had been before James putting it into the tube.
Within months, Neicy was hooked. The irritabilities and mood swings weren't enough to call her attention to the fact. After writing bad checks to cover other shortages, she thought maybe she was out of control. Still, the denial continued until she issued fictitious checks to fictitious persons to cover all the previously written checks. Most of the money went towards large quantities of coke she intended to sell. That plan went up in smoke…….. as did her life.

The district manager held a meeting with all the department heads soon after. He said there had been a flood of unauthorized checks, and no one was above suspicion. All personnel had to take polygraph tests and submit their bank statements to the San Diego Police Department. Neicy played along until the day she noticed her supervisor talking quietly to a stranger who'd been lurking around the office. When she left work, she'd hurriedly packed Karen a suitcase and phoned her mother. She told her Karen was on the next flight because she and James had domestic problems. After the flight took off, she drove four hundred miles to a friend's place in San Jose. She then telephoned General Dynamics with some wish wash about going to Denver for her mother's health. James was on the road, so she left a message on his voicemail with the same wish wash.

Within a week, a warrant was issued for her arrest. The drama came to a head when the police questioned James about her whereabouts. He called Denver and found she wasn't there. Confused and scared, he confided to Mrs. Tripp about the drug use and the visit from the police. Mrs. Tripp called around until she found Neicy staying with relatives in the Bay area, smoking and running scared.

"Hon, I hate to interrupt. "Cee Cee's voice brought her back to the present. They were at Anthony's Harborside, the one thing she thought about while locked away at NCWF. Lobster carcasses lay in front of them. "We only have about an hour before your flight leaves. Anything else you want to do?
"No, I just wanted to see you and eat seafood before I left for home."
"I've really missed you, too. You're so real about things."
"Some things. I hope I can get it together when I get home. My life was a mess when I was there."
"It's always a mess when you're actively addicted. You seem like you are your old self, but now with a sense of true reality. Your family probably forgave you years ago. Now, you have to forgive yourself. And, that's the hardest part of the equation."
"Yeah, I guess you're right. Still, I ……."
"Okay, now, don't get to…"
"Trippin'," the two of them laughed in unison.

At Lindbergh Field, the women said teary but merry goodbyes. Neicy knew she would have to complete her program without her friend by her side. Cee Cee was a native Californian and rarely left the state.
Soaring over the clouds, Neicy's hands trembled. The last time she flew home, it was freezing…..like today. She'd stood on her mother's porch shivering while her mother peered through the peephole of the front door.
"Hi, Mama," she'd mouthed, moving back so her mother could focus. "It's me. It's Neicy."
The door finally opened, and Mrs. Tripp motioned her inside. She hugged her youngest daughter, but her face was fraught with worry.

"Ya know the police are looking for you. Said you took some checks from your job out there in California."
"Are you kidding, Mama? I haven't done anything for them to be looking for me……," she lied, nervously touching the glass pipe inside the pocket of the frayed trench coat. "The police, huh. I'll say. The only thing I did when I was on that job was stop them white folks from talking to me like I was their child instead of yours, Mama. It can't be for no checks. Out there, they still don't let Black folks be close to no checks. Please. Good thing I came home, huh? Otherwise, I would not have known. Where's Karen? Where's my baby? I've missed her so much. I've missed you, too, Mama." The words streamed from her mouth like a recorder on a high-speed dub.
Her mother stared at her solemnly, "You need to clean yourself up before she sees you. She'll be home shortly."
"Yeah, okay. I rode the bus from Oakland without a change of clothes because I packed them all."
"I thought you were in Portland. The time you called for money to come home for Karen's birthday, you said you were in Portland. What happened? That was two months ago. Karen was waiting for you all day. Lord, Girl, don't you care about nobody except yourself?" Tears formed in the older woman's eyes as she went towards the kitchen down the long hallway.
"Mama, wait…..see, I was coming home, but I got sick. I was staying with some people, and they didn't have a phone. I ……"
"Get yourself cleaned up now." A sob was now coming from her throat.

Nervous from the confrontation, Neicy touched the cold glass of the pipe inside the seam of the coat as she made her way upstairs to the bath. Closing the door, she thought of the remnant of the hit she took walking from the transit stop. Hearing her mother's familiar steps outside the door, she decided against it.

For three days, she enjoyed the company of her family, trying to ignore the cravings in her mind. Fidgety and unable to sleep the night before the fourth day, she went to her sister's place on the other side of the complex. When she saw the sullen young guys with pants hanging loosely around their hips, milling about, she immediately thought of Hunter's Point in San Francisco, where she spent the last month smoking bumps and on spook. Donna had an appointment so they visited for a while, then Neicy started back to her mother's place. When she passed a muscled youth in the Raider's jacket, he smiled and said, "Whassup? Got that flavor."
"I need a thirty."
"Spend it all and get a dub."
Neicy nodded her head and hurriedly gave him the fifty-dollar bill she'd found in her sister's pillbox while searching for a valium to quiet her incessant cravings.
A short time later, she was crouched in the bathroom, unzipping a cosmetic bag that held her lighter, screens, and pipe. After removing the pipe, she put one of the smaller rocks on the end of the glass and lit it. It's a mystery how long she sat on the side of the tub, sweating and picking lint from the white towels hanging on the racks. Insistent knocking at the door finally made her put the bag back under the sink behind the faucets.
"Okay," her voice was a hoarse whisper. "Okay. I'm coming out."
When she opened the door, she kept her head down to avoid her mother's stare from her seat near the steps directly in front of the bathroom.
"Your stomach upset? That why you in there so long?"
"No, ma'am….I was reading the new Essence. Haven't seen it yet."
"Sure you were. I guess you keep it down there by that little lipstick bag with that broken glass thing you smoke that stuff in?" There was a look of disbelief on her face.
"Oh, no, Mama. "She reached to touch her mother's folded arms. "I didn't know you knew…."
"I can smell that burnt smell in my room, Laura Deniece! All I know is you gotta get some help. Donna said you took her grocery money. Lord, Girl, you going to smoke yourself out of this family. I just can't take it anymore."
Her head snapped back at Mrs. Tripp's words. "Aww, hell. I just borrowed her funky ass fifty dollars. I'm gonna pay her back tomorrow. I promise…"
"No, Laura. We tired. I want you out of my house today. I can't trust you. You lying; you stealing."
"What you mean you want me out? Where am I going to go? Why do you think I came here? Huh, Mama? I have nowhere to go."

The older woman shook her head. "I don't care. You cannot stay in this house. "She then went into the room adjacent to the bathroom and locked the door.
Neicy was stunned at her mother's attitude. "Mama, I have nowhere to go! Do you hear me?"
The only sound coming from the room was whimpers.
"Oh, so it's like that. You just putting me out. "Neicy voice was nasty now. "What you gonna tell Karen, Mama? You didn't think about that, did you? Are you putting her Mama out because I borrowed some money from my sister without asking? That's what I did. Borrow, Mama. You really on a trip. Yeah, you definitely got the right name." Blinking her eyes, she glared at the wood of her mother's bedroom door. After getting no response from behind it, she screeched, in a singsong voice:
"Don't come looking for me. I won't be where you can find me. Don't come looking for me. I won't be where you can find me. Sure won't, Mama. Sure won't be able to find me."
She took the stairs two at a time, opened the door, and darted across the parking lot to the group of people huddled together. Recognizing a thin man she'd seen with the guy in the Raider's jacket, she asked if he had a weapon. He pulled a broken antenna from his pocket, and Neicy put a piece of the rock she'd gotten earlier on the tip. After taking a hit, she gave the hot metal back to the man. In a cocaine fog, she stood like a statue until a faraway voice called to her.

"Mom! What are you doing?" Karen appeared from behind the guy with the hot metal. "Are you smoking crack?"
“No, baby”, she stammered. "I was just…ahhh…just talking to these people." The coke had almost taken her voice. "I wasn't smoking with them."
"I saw you!" Her daughter cried. "I was standing on the corner when you came running from Grandmothers. I followed you here."
Neicy hung her head in shame and gathered her only child in her arms. Walking towards her mother's unit, she managed a feeble apology.
"I'm sorry, baby. I am so sorry."
The two of them were too occupied to notice the patrol car at the far end of the lot. When they entered Mrs. Tripp's unit, the uniformed officer spoke.
"Laura Tripp?" A female cop stood in her path. "We have a fugitive warrant out of California for charging you with fraud and embezzlement. Turn around put your hands behind your back. You have the right to remain silent; you have the right to an attorney…" A mass of labyrinth images blurred the rest of the words as the steel bracelets bit into her tiny wrists.

Abruptly, the belly of the plane dipped, jolting her back to the present. Seconds later, the captain's voice came over the loudspeaker. "We apologize for the turbulence. We should be on the ground in ten minutes. The temperature is a chilly sixteen degrees. Thank you for flying United."
After the plane landed, Neicy shakily made her way to the ramp leading to the passenger waiting area.
"Mom!"
It was Karen, pushing her way through the crowd towards the woman she had not seen in almost four years.
"There she is, Grandmother! There's my mother!"
A rush of tears flooded her eyes when she saw Donna and her mother standing in the crowd in the back of her daughter. Hugging Karen with one arm, she hurried to her sister and mother. Both had tears streaming down their faces.
"Praise Jesus, my Neicy home. Praise Him. "Mrs. Tripp smoothed her hair back. "You look good, Baby. "
"I feel good, Mama. Even though I been where I been, I feel damn good. She crushed Donna to her chest. "How did you guys know I was coming home today?"
"Cynthia called us after you got on the plane," Karen replied. "She said you needed us to be here."
Laughing, Neicy shook her head. "That's my friend."
"I wasn't sure you wanted me to be here; I called the police on you and…." Her mother looked deep in her face.
"Shhh…I wasn't mad about that; I needed help. That was the only way to get me to see the light." Then, she turned to Donna and apologized for taking the money from the pillbox.
"The money wasn't important, Baby. We knew you were in too deep, and we wanted you to get treatment for your problem. If that meant going to jail, we were willing to do our tough love for us to be doing what we are doing right now."
A warm glow filled Neicy as they walked as a family through the new airport built while she was in California. All the pieces were in place for her to finish the sentence she'd begun years earlier. She'd just survived an earth-shattering experience in darkness by the sea. Now, it was time to celebrate in the sunlight beauty of the mountains.