Yellow Brick Road (an Eazy-E Story)

THIRTY

April 7th, 1995 | 11:15am

"You have a visitor!" 

The prison guard yelled from behind the Plexiglas. I watched as Tupac was dragged into the visitor's room with cuffs on his wrists. He hung his head low. His hair had grown into a small afro. It wasn't picked or lined up. His goatee was overgrown but still neat. He was still Pac, but I could tell his soul was slipping from him. 

The guard walked Tupac to the table that I was seated at. It was a bit chilly outside in upstate New York. I removed my brown fur from over my shoulders and placed it behind the chair I was sitting on. The guard removed the cuffs from Pac's wrists and told him to sit down. 

He complied to the guard's command and sat obediently. The guard walked to the corner of the visitor's room, giving us space to talk. 

"Backbone." Tupac said lowly as he lifted his head to finally look me in the eye. 

"Pac-Man." I said with a gentle smile. 

"Congratulations." He nodded his head towards my left hand. My three carat, solitaire round diamond ring was blinding and looked enormous on my finger. "Thank you." I said softly. 

"He know you up here visiting me?" Tupac tilted his head, awaiting my response. 

"He knows everything, Pac." I laughed. "He sends his regards." 

"Tell him I appreciate that." Pac fixed his lips to smile but a full smile wouldn't come out. 

"How's Keisha doing?" I asked. Whenever Pac would call me collect, he'd tell me about his girlfriend. He speaks highly of her, says she holds him down on the level that I used to back home in Brooklyn. She's always visiting him and puts money on his books. 

"She's straight." He said briefly. "I'm thinking about marrying her, actually." 

My jaw expanded. "Marriage? Tupac? Uh uh!" I said jokingly. Pac never talked marriage with me. He mentioned having children someday, but never jumping the broom. 

"I'm serious, L. I think I might do it." Pac stroked the growing hair on his chin. 

"If you're serious and this is something you want to do, I back it. Just make sure she's really down for you like you think she is." I said to him. Our eyes never broke away from one another's. "This marriage shit ain't nothing to play with." I added. 

"Is that why you chose to marry Eric?" Tupac tilted his head to the side. His facial expression was of an innocent child. That little boy from the projects, waiting for me to get off the bus to walk home with him afterschool. That look I hadn't seen in so long was looking back at me for the first time in years. 

"I married Eric for different reasons." I fiddled with my diamond ring. 

"Name one." Tupac challenged my response. He folded his hands on top of the flimsy grey table that was place between our hard, foldable chairs. 

"Security." I said bluntly. That was something that Pac couldn't have given me, even in our younger days. He was unpredictable, wild, and couldn't be confined or tamed by no man or woman. Only the prison system.

"Is that right?" Tupac stroked his chin once more with a side grin plastered across his lips. His teeth still pearly. I shook my head and looked at my diamond ring. 

"I'm protected in all aspects of the word. That's why I married him." I said with a smile. The guard in the corner stared at me and pointed at his wrist watch. 'Five more minutes' were the words he mouthed to me.