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Authors: Sister Souljah
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through and counted up the opportunities available for festival day. I had done my research and found out that there was a talent competition for us prisoners. The prize was a gift basket that had all the shit every girl in here needed every day, but most couldn’t afford to get or ran out of too quick. Plus it had some stuff we never even dreamed of getting our hands on until we hit time served and walked out of this miserable joint.
The prize basket contained the latest technology that many of us never seen or heard of. We were used to cassette tapes and cassette players. While we were locked up, it switched. So the fact that the prize basket contained a CD player, along with a DVD player, CDsand DVDs donated by entertainment companies made it ten times more valuable. The basket also had three phone cards, which added up to 180 minutes, or three hours, of phone talk and stuff like lotions, soaps, deodorants, perfume, and hair products, as well as a stationery set with stamps, and some books and magazines that was supposed to be the good ones. I knew for sure that whoever won that first-place basket could open up a business in here and work each item in trade or sale or use for about a year, no doubt. I even considered that the DVDs and CDs didn’t even have to be sold. If they were mines, I would open up my own version of Blockbuster and rent out the DVDs and CDs so they kept making money for me year-round. Even the books and magazines would hold weight, especially if they chose the right ones that girls from the hood would sweat, and probably weren’t available in the library. The shit that wasn’t being discussed was that whoever won that basket would need an army to keep it, even if they won it fair and square. The first-place winner would turn into a target in seconds, no doubt.
Riot wasn’t in agreement about the prize basket or the competition. She said the authorities were “slick” and the robots were dumb. “Watch how they kill each other to get their hands on that first prize.”
Riot said that the authorities paid for all that shit in the basket with money they made off of us. She also told me that the authorities would use the basket to keep the inmates in check and use the talent show to show the state what a good job they had done in controlling us, and how happy we all were to be in prison. So happy that we are up here singing and dancing for our captors.
“That’s what you’re gonna do, right Porsche? Dance for the authorities at the festival?” Riot asked me.
“No,” I answered back swiftly. “I’m the producer and choreographer for the seven girls that are gonna grab first place. I’m gonna teach them the dopest moves. When they win, they’re gonna pay me my fee.”
“Pretty smart,” Riot said. “How much you pulling?”
“One DVD player and whatever DVDs come with it. I’ll open my own movie house. Only the Diamonds will get in for free,” I said. We both laughed a little. Riot hugged my shoulders. I was working my way up to being even.
Aside from the reason I gave Riot about why I wouldn’t be dancing in the show, there was the fact that Momma had said, “One day someone will pay you a million bucks to move your hips like that.” Before Riot ever brought it up, I had already decided not to dance with the seven girls who I had selected after auditioning them. Prize basket or not, nobody in this fucking place could afford my dance performance.
It was windy on the yard, but we managed to get up a game of double Dutch. For us, it wasn’t an average afterschool-type game. After all, there was a rope involved. That meant there was a guard posted nearby, close enough to us for her to be one of the players. But she wasn’t playing. Now, I don’t know if it’s all right for a woman to weigh three hundred pounds, but this guard was pushing it and it was not the kind of fat that folded over then dropped or hanged. Hers was packed on her body like how frozen freezing ice cream
The prize basket contained the latest technology that many of us never seen or heard of. We were used to cassette tapes and cassette players. While we were locked up, it switched. So the fact that the prize basket contained a CD player, along with a DVD player, CDsand DVDs donated by entertainment companies made it ten times more valuable. The basket also had three phone cards, which added up to 180 minutes, or three hours, of phone talk and stuff like lotions, soaps, deodorants, perfume, and hair products, as well as a stationery set with stamps, and some books and magazines that was supposed to be the good ones. I knew for sure that whoever won that first-place basket could open up a business in here and work each item in trade or sale or use for about a year, no doubt. I even considered that the DVDs and CDs didn’t even have to be sold. If they were mines, I would open up my own version of Blockbuster and rent out the DVDs and CDs so they kept making money for me year-round. Even the books and magazines would hold weight, especially if they chose the right ones that girls from the hood would sweat, and probably weren’t available in the library. The shit that wasn’t being discussed was that whoever won that basket would need an army to keep it, even if they won it fair and square. The first-place winner would turn into a target in seconds, no doubt.
Riot wasn’t in agreement about the prize basket or the competition. She said the authorities were “slick” and the robots were dumb. “Watch how they kill each other to get their hands on that first prize.”
Riot said that the authorities paid for all that shit in the basket with money they made off of us. She also told me that the authorities would use the basket to keep the inmates in check and use the talent show to show the state what a good job they had done in controlling us, and how happy we all were to be in prison. So happy that we are up here singing and dancing for our captors.
“That’s what you’re gonna do, right Porsche? Dance for the authorities at the festival?” Riot asked me.
“No,” I answered back swiftly. “I’m the producer and choreographer for the seven girls that are gonna grab first place. I’m gonna teach them the dopest moves. When they win, they’re gonna pay me my fee.”
“Pretty smart,” Riot said. “How much you pulling?”
“One DVD player and whatever DVDs come with it. I’ll open my own movie house. Only the Diamonds will get in for free,” I said. We both laughed a little. Riot hugged my shoulders. I was working my way up to being even.
Aside from the reason I gave Riot about why I wouldn’t be dancing in the show, there was the fact that Momma had said, “One day someone will pay you a million bucks to move your hips like that.” Before Riot ever brought it up, I had already decided not to dance with the seven girls who I had selected after auditioning them. Prize basket or not, nobody in this fucking place could afford my dance performance.
It was windy on the yard, but we managed to get up a game of double Dutch. For us, it wasn’t an average afterschool-type game. After all, there was a rope involved. That meant there was a guard posted nearby, close enough to us for her to be one of the players. But she wasn’t playing. Now, I don’t know if it’s all right for a woman to weigh three hundred pounds, but this guard was pushing it and it was not the kind of fat that folded over then dropped or hanged. Hers was packed on her body like how frozen freezing ice cream
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