The year is 1993. Carlito's Way is our favorite movie. We watched it at least 10 times. We knew the lines of our favorite scenes verbatim. Moya would play Gail, and I Carlito. She was fond of the scene where Gail confronts Carlito as to why they broke up.
Moya was a romantic -- she was fond of saying, "Prison could never come between true love." She thought Carlito was selfish -- thus only protecting himself by breaking up with Gail after he got sentenced to 30 years in prison. I admired her! She was Peruvian with dark wavy hair, long legs, and blessed with the figure of a ballerina.
Moya, was most beautiful in the summer -- her Inca roots when stimulated by the heat of the sun, allowed her a rich, earthy, and somewhat bronzed complexion. She was the Wonder Woman to my Clark Kent. Moya was a Scorpio; she only knew how to love hard!
Moya was my first true love. It was a loved cultivated by years of trials and tribulations, but most importantly, it was a love founded on friendship.
Moya and I became friends sometime in 1987 -- we were in junior high school. She had a crush on my best friend Rodney; thankfully, Moya wasn't Rodney's type; but to my chagrin, they dated for a few weeks nonetheless. They broke up one day while we were cutting school with friends. She was devastated, but I was silently relieved.
We hung out more after the breakup. I secretly fell in love -- one day, I got up enough courage to tell her. There was a long pause on the other end. "I like you a lot as a friend" finally broke the silence. I cried for days after slowly replacing the receiver on the old black rotary phone, but it didn't change our friendship -- it only got stronger.
It would be a few years before we started dating. It wasn't a storybook romance by any means; Infidelity, racism, pregnancies, you name it. We broke each other's heart many times, but our love and friendship always prevailed.
"Nothing can stop true love" was the motto. We had been through the fire numerous times; we believed our love and friendship was strong enough to overcome any obstacle, but we didn't count on our lives mirroring the fictional narrative we had come to love.
We were at that magical age of 18 and high on love; living a fairy tale life, in a magical city, till that ominous day -- Wednesday, April 13, 1994 -- I left home that afternoon with promises of dinner and a movie later on that night, but I never made it back.
The "Feds" arrested me in Brooklyn, right across from the Projects on Rockaway Parkway. I was charged with conspiracy to sell drugs and guns. They offered me 40 years to life as a first time offender under the Rockefeller Drug Laws; and as crazy as all this sounds, the truth be told, I was more afraid for my best friend than I was for myself.
We cried non-stop that first visit on Rikers Island. Moya didn't miss a court date. When I got depressed, she reminded me of the motto, and I always believed her!
When the Judge sentenced me to 7 years to Life in prison, she joked, "Well, at least you have 23 less years than Carlito." She wrote everyday when they sent me "Upstate." She knew me better than I knew myself.
We planned on getting married. I excitedly completed the necessary paper work when I got to Coxsackie Correctional Facility. Moya bought wedding rings. It was US against all odds!
By 8am, I was ready in my crisp state-greens, and pacing my small cell in anticipation of her visit at 9. In over 7 months of incarceration, Moya never missed a visit. I even spoke with her the night before to confirm; so when visits ended at 3pm, and I hadn't been called, my mind ran rampant to find a plausible explanation.
The isolation of prison kept me on the brink of insanity. I was sure she got into an accident; surely something bad had happened? Maybe they didn't let her in?
A few hours later, having been tortured immensely by my fears, I finally felt some relief as Moya's "hello," interrupts the ringing; but before I could respond, the automated machine announces: "You have a collect call from a correctional facility..."
But then something unexpected happened -- the call got denied. My hands are trembling as I quickly redial, but the same thing happens -again, and again, and again, till I couldn't dial anymore.
My heart is screaming, pounding, threatening to break free of its physical confines. I tried to calm down, remind myself of the motto -- "Nothing can come between true love!"
Years would go by, I would never see, or hear from Moya again. I would however get a letter 7 years later while in Attica. It was from my cousin Gavin. It read, "Please sit down and don't do anything crazy, but I want you to know that Moya and Will (my other best friend) got married".
It's been 22 years since I last saw Moya, I am no longer in prison, but my story is not an aberration -- America incarcerates more of its citizens (and non citizens) than any other nation -- More than 11 million people cycle in an out of prisons and jails each year. Most of the people incarcerated are men of color -- research even indicates that more men of color are incarcerated today than were enslaved in 1850.
So this ode, while named for Moya, is really devoted to all the women -- girlfriends, wives, mothers and daughters -- who have had to journey to prisons, jails and correctional facilities all across America, all in hopes, of keeping LOVE alive.