Déjà Vu Read Free

some mess he was involved in. Killed a white man too. He was toughon the outside, but that fine brotha ain’t nothin’ up against the real hoods in Central.”
    “Wha…what is the cop’s name?”
    “Oh, you want to talk now?”
    “No, I remember a cop in Fayetteville who was put away about four or five years ago for murder and accessory to an arms deal scheme.” Angelica leaned back in her seat.
    “Yep, that’s him. Hamilton Barnes. That pretty boy got it hard. The boys are spanking that behind. Bee-sides, nobody like a cop that ain’t got no respect for anutha brother. So, pretty thang, did you say you were going to Fayetteville?”
    “I didn’t say.”
    “What were you in for?”
    “Walter, I don’t feel very hospitable right now. I should be happy, but I’m not. And I don’t feel like talking.”
    “I was thinking that maybe you and me could hook up.”
    “When I get off of this bus, Walter, it’s just me and me—no you.”
    “Umm, had you pegged wrong. Ain’t you one of Macy’s girls from the women’s prison?”
    Angelica sat bolt upright and looked straight into Walter’s eyes. She bore a hole deep into his soul.
    “Who are you, and what do you know about Ms. Macy?”
    “Sgt. Macy, ahhh, she comes by the prison on occasion.”
    “To do what?”
    “How do you expect me to know? I was locked up like you.”
    “Funny, you were offering her up like you were handing out government cheese.”
    Angelica looked at the braid-wearing brotha in the wrinkled T-shirt, Army field jacket, and tattered blue jeans with renewedinterest. He knew something that he failed to share—something that had to do with Ms. Macy, Central Prison, perhaps her ex-husband or maybe Jefferson. Angelica wasn’t sure, but there was one thing she was sure of—Walter struck a nerve with her. She would have to extract as much information as she could before the bus arrived in Fayetteville because entertaining the likes of Walter Whatever-his-last-name was strictly out of the question whether she had a place to stay or not.
    Angelica sat back and crossed her legs as Walter fidgeted and searched for what he was going to say next.
    “Look, ahh…I never caught your name.”
    “Don’t have one. My number is 656933.”
    “Cute. Well, I think I’ll go back up front and sit.”
    “No need to go. I’m interested in talking about Ms. Macy.”
    A frown crossed Walter’s face. Angelica watched as Walter sized her up, his eyes lingering too long on her breasts that filled out the pink cotton stretch blouse she wore. He didn’t look half bad. A good washing and scrubbing would probably make him presentable.
    “Look, I figured a good-looking woman like yourself had to be one of Sgt. Macy’s girls. See, Sgt. Macy is well known in these parts. It’s no secret that she likes the little girls and the grown ones, too. No big deal. That’s prison life.”
    “Walter, what are you trying to tell me? I was never good at riddle games.”
    “Ain’t trying to tell you nothin’, sugar. Just makin’ conversation to pass the time.” Walter stood up and bowed. “Excuse me if I interrupted your…sleep. I’ll let you get back to it.”
    Angelica sat staring at Walter as he walked to the front of the bus. The last twenty minutes were bizarre, and no further information would be forthcoming. She wracked her brain for the meaning, but nothing came and she fell asleep.
    “FAYETTEVILLE,” shouted the bus driver an hour later.
    Angelica wiped her mouth and collected herself. She stood up and looked toward the front of the bus, but the man in braids had disappeared into the brightness of the day. She got off the bus and looked around at the few patrons who waited for buses to take them as far away as New York. Angelica hugged her few belongings and sat on a bench, wondering how far the money she had in her pocket would take her and who the man in braids was.

3
    A ngelica collected her thoughts and decided to call a cab to take her to one of