Pharaoh prayed every morning, ran laps, prayed while he ran, went to Bible study.
Got a visitor, they told him right after Bible study.
His approved list was small.
Pharaoh didn’t want it to be CeCee. He wasn’t ready yet to explain to his niece.
But Mama would be the only one to bring CeCee.
It was RayBone.
RayBone smiling back through the glass, a whole inferno of danger behind his eyes.
RayBone must shiver up in this bitch, surprised they don’t serve some old warrant.
Tawski got pulled over once after visiting Vic, they found some dirty paper on him, he did half a year on it.
“Bless you for coming, my brother. I hope the Lord is keeping you in good health.”
RayBone laughed, this tight little hiccuping hiss between his teeth.
“Ash makes sure I eat a Caesar salad once a week. I’m the healthiest dude on Westwood.”
“Praise God for the bounty.”
“Bertrand,” RayBone started, waiting for Pharoah to react to his given name. Pharoah didn’t flinch “...Mouth wants to know why he’s not on your approved list. He wants to visit. Wants to know why there’s beef, if there is in fact beef.”
RayBone leaned in.
“Honest, he wants to make sure you ain’t dissin him to people who might be an asset to him when they get out. Knowumsayin?”
Pharoah smiled, but something in that smile, in his eyes, was telling Raybone to listen up.
He leaned in just a touch.
Maybe it was for effect, certainly couldn’t be for any extra privacy.
“Prior to my unfortunate arrest, Thomas…” (It took Raybone a full second to remember Mouth’s real name was Tommy) “informed me that he had stashed a half ki of product under his Mother’s Virgin Mary statue. I found it to be highly sacrilegious and distasteful.”
RayBone laughed, a heartier, freer laugh this time.
“Homey, nobody knew back then you had all this religious femur going on. We straight up thought you was immoral, bein’ honest.”
Pharaoh bowed his head, smiled pleasantly,
“Fever? Fervor? If you’re talking about my awakening…well…nonetheless…I was blessed with freedom prior to Mouth digging up a statue of the Blessed Virgin. Seemed like it made someone upstairs mad at me. In short, my luck ran out.”
Pharaoh pulled up the short sleeve of his state issue blues and gently patted a fresh and very graphic tattoo depiction of the crucifixion.
“I’ll put Thomas Kallakian on my approved visitors list.”
Now Pharoah leaned in, put his forehead and upraised right palm against the glass.
RayBone leaned, matched Pharoah’s hand against the glass.
Pharoah smiled.
Raybone saw some of the old danger in Pharoah’s eyes.
“You tell Mouth, Praise God,” Pharoah said “that if he wants to come up here, it ain’t a visit. It’s a confession.”
***
Ouch.
Ol' Pharaoh may be inside playing the game, but he's still got his thumb outside.