Nobody thought Sek would ever E.O.S. his prison sentence alive.
Against all odds and to the suprise of everybody, Sek did just that @7:00 o'clock this morning when he marched out of one of the many dehumanizing prison camps in the deep south.
As of today William E. Donaldson, aka West Jefferson, would become another passing particle of Sek's already shady and shattered past...
As Sek brung his whole fifteen year sentence litterally to the door his mother nervously waited for him outside in the silent and secluded parking lot of the prison. She took incessantly deep drags from her fifth king filtered Kool ciggerette. The scrunched and tarred butts layed slayed like King Richard's medieval Knights of the Temple
beneath her burnished bronzed feet. The love and fear she felt for her son caused her to tremble in small spurts of spasms. Pulses of contraditions darted throughout her mind in vivid details of things that have and have never happend before. She unleashed her grip from her last ciggerette as the cherry flamed butt fumbled down towards the previous four stunted stubs all just inches away from her black and braided leather sandals.
The metallic clanging and banging of gates and doors abruptly brought her attention back into focus. She was here to bring her only son back home from hell.
Her vision quickly teared as she seen her son emerge into the brilliant light of the sun. Blinded, Sek sought out his mother through the heat waves that rippled from earth to sky. He was already lost and he knew it. His mother could wait no longer.
"Over here son, I'm over here!" As she began walking towards her son she slowly realized that she haven't felt this emotionally charged since her son's birth nearly thirty years ago.
"Ma, I told you ya I would make it out of prison alive!" That was all he could say as he ambled up to his mother and withheld all but one tear as he embraced her.
Nearly an hour and a half of silence later while driving south on I-65 towards Sek's mother's house in Montgomery, Alabama the silence was forever shattered.
"What's all'em papers fo? Letters or somethin'?"
"Naw ma, these my tracks I've been tellin' you bout."
"Tracks?, Oh, dat damn rap music stuff? I thought you said that you would concentrate on a good trade and then be ready to work hard to finally make somethin' out ya self. " The words from his mother slashed before him as a rust crusted but sharp shank. He felt trapped, isolated and under immediate attack for some reason. He tried to take a deep breath to calm himself. It was too late. He snapped. "Ma, pleeeaaase don't start all dat house nigga shit talk, I told you I would work fo my money legally this time, but I ……"
In mid-sentence, thought and traffic his mother swerved her navy blue 98 Delta to the graveled shoulder of I-65 only minutes away from the exit leading to her home. After skidding the last few feet into a complete stop she slung the gear into park. Then in a barely controlled manner she looked painfully deep into her only son's defiant eyes and slapped the shit out of him.
Sek didn't flinch an inch.
"If you think you can just talk to me like some lil' street punk boy, I'll ……"
At that moment Sek could'nt help but notice the pain seeping from every square inch of her queenly two-hundred pound frame. Within this flash his mother's signs of age appeared to be well worth the dignity and respect she now demanded.
Her sparse strings of grey hair blended so naturally and slightly down and around her southern fried black and oily skin.
Her looks would still betray any age assumption of anyone not in the know, but this was her only son that she was dealing with.
"GET OUT!!!, JUST GET OUT OF MY ………"
"MA, I did'nt mean to……"
"Now! I don't care what you meant boy, I can't take it, you ain't go do right, here!" She snatched up her black and bloated church purse and crashed her rage shaking fingers deep within it. She came up and out with a new black leather wallet for men that she had bought for Sek's release gift along with his birth certificate, social security card and seven crisp one hundred dollar bills all neatly tucked within it.
"Here!" Sek grasped the black leather wallet half in shock knowing that this argument was bound to happen but not this fast.
"Steve, we lost yo' daddy to dat' stroke boy and you know I ain't been feelin' too good worryin' all da' time and I ain't fin'ta let you worry me half to death no mo', now take this and call dat' girl you said you was go live with at first, cause I ain't up to it and nothin' good go happen to ya' boy, cause you ain't go act right."
"But ma!"
"I said get out my car Steve, there go'a phone ova ' there, since you so grown, be a man like you say cause yo' moma ain't fin'ta go through it again wit'ya boy, so gone on now and call me later on when ya' get some sense in ya' head and settle down some. I'll call ya' sister an'em at work and tell'em you at yo' girlfriends house, now gone on now." Oblivious to the tears his mother couldn't control If she wanted to, Sek knew she was right as he leaned his body out the car door and into the sounds of rushing cars, trucks and vans on their morning missions up and down the interstate. Sek looked back, and reached in the car for the black leather wallet he left on the car seat. When he bent his tall frame within the car door his eyes were levelled with his mother's as he spoke.
"Thanks ma, and I'm sorry, and as soon as I can I'll call ya' from Lisa's house later on OK? "
His mother blinked out another stream of fresh tears as she pulled the gear down into drive as Sek slammed His door shut. His mother swiftly swerved the big 98 Delta back into the hectic traffic of I-65 South headed back towards Montgomery.
Sek just stood there motionless until he seen the right side blinker of his mother's car indicate her exit ramp back home. As his mother's car faded from view Sek became more aware of his surroundings. He knew nothing of this world anymore. The anxiety of being confined in a small prison cell for the last fifteen years might have been wasted. This was way bigger than the prison yard he was forced to call home for a decade and a half. So, for the first time in a long time Steven Earl King, AIS #201200 became what he never ever wanted to become again in his already battered and shattered life and that was without question scared to death…………
Chapter 1
