CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
2002 – Scooby Doo Mystery
Second week of April, I received a package from my mother. When I opened it up, several thick, white envelopes fell out, along with a laminated prayer card, featuring Psalm 91.
He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High
Shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress;
My God, in Him I will trust.”
I taped it to the inside cover of the book I was using to capture legal notes.
I read the letter she’d sent:
Piti’m,
I send you this psalm to remind you that there is always hope and comfort when you walk with the Lord.
Your family loves you and we are all praying for you to return to us as quickly as possible.
I’ve enclosed your graduate school acceptance letters- I didn’t open them, but from the thickness I can tell they all said “yes.” Please let me know as soon as possible if my guess is correct. I know it is.
And don’t worry about missing opportunities. Grad school will be there for you when you’re ready.
And we will always be here for you.
Mwen renmen’w,
Manman
I knew that, beyond these beautifully crafted sentiments, my mother was extremely distressed and embarrassed by what I’d brought upon myself. But she knew I knew and wasn’t going to waste her energy on harsh words. And I knew that she knew how many harsh words I had for myself.
I sighed and picked up my grad school letters.
My mother was right- they were all acceptances. NYU welcomed me to the Class of 2005. Brooklyn College and CUNY each offered a full-ride, merit-based scholarship. What a fuckin’ wasted opportunity. There wasn’t even any sense in deferring for a year. I was sure my ass would still be locked up.
Instead of wasting time mourning a life not attained, I refocused energy on my case. We were still trying to get to the bottom of the mystery of the C.I. because this was the key to a proffer that could be taken seriously. My lawyer subpoenaed records from Eula’s case and gained a ton of pertinent information:
There was a confidential informant associated with Eula’s case.
That informant was only tied to EBT fraud activity- no connection to guns or drugs.
The informant only gave Eula up- no mention at all of me or Biz.
Based off of that official info, I further deduced that:
My C.I. had to have stemmed from the Brownsville breach.
Once they got up on my ass, the cops were probably tailing me to and from Eula’s house. They probably figured I was moving something in and out for that brief period of time, and probably wrote something about suspected weapons into their search warrant.
That voicemail that Eula left me from Rikers? The one I deleted without listening to? Apparently, she used my first name and kept screaming about “guns, guns, guns!” on the phone. I really wanted to know how this chick found out my government name, but at the moment that mystery could be put to the side.
This crazy girl screaming about “guns, guns, guns!” set off the P.O. who’d reviewed the call. The P.O. ran my name and phone number through a database and found out I was already under surveillance.
They alerted the cops in charge of my case. The cops used Eula’s call as a reason to step up surveillance.
From that point on, I was being followed. Those cops followed me from May 2000 until December 2001. And if it hadn’t been for September 11th, I have no doubt those motherfuckers woulda followed me around until they were confident that could get Hopeton and Bolo caught up in this mess. Meanwhile, my brother, Mundo the golden boy, was far, far away and completely out of danger.
