00Sex 2: Eye of the Hurricane Page #6

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Your letter, feelings,|concerns, desires and warmth...

literally|jumped off the page at me...

when reading|your heartfelt message.

It is as ifyou heard|my thoughts...

and reached out|to share yours with me...

at a moment when I can hearyou.

So thankyou once again.

Forever...

your friend and brother...

Rubin "Hurricane" Carter.""

Wow.

You got your answer.

Yeah.

Dear Rubin...

I"ve been thinking about my life|compared to yours.

I come from Bushwick in Brooklyn.

My parents are alcoholics|and my brother"s in prison.

I was third in my class,|and I couldn"t even read.

I couldn"t write you this letter|just a year ago...

but then I met these friends from Canada|when I had a summerjob at the EPA.

They offered to educate me|and they got me out.

Sometimes I feel guilty about my family|"cause I left "em behind.

Now that I know you,|I know it isn"t right.

I shouldn"t cry|about my own feelings...

not ifyou can do what you"ve done.

I"ve been thinkin" though.

I would like to come and visit you,|ifthat will be all right.

Palm down, right hand.|Keep the line moving.

- Put your right hand out, please.|Palm down.|- Keep the line moving.

- Keep the line moving, please.|- Come on. Come on.

Okay, now.

Y"all listen up now. Visits forJones,|Taylor, Harris, Ramos...

Sykes, Carter, Tucei,|line up right here.

Uh, you didn"t call my boy"s name.

Hemmings. Eric Hemmings, 65660.

- Hemmings?|- Yeah.

Uh-uh, no visit for Hemmings today.|He"s in lockup.

- Okay, Mac, open it up.|- Keep out ofthe way.

Extend your arms. Palms.|Turn around.

Show me your feet.|Okay, spread "em.

Next.

Open your mouth.|Roll your tongue.

Extend your arms.

Show me your palms.|Turn around.

Show me your feet.

Spread "em.

Ready on the outside!

Okay, come on.|Single fi le, y"all.

Let"s go. Single fi le.

Hey, sweetheart!

Single fi le.

Let"s go. Single fi le.

You look nice.

Mr Carter?

- Rubin ""Hurricane"" Carter. Is that you?|- Mm-hmm.

- I"m sorry, you don"t look like your|pictures. I thought you"d be bigger.|- Hey, I"m bigger than you.

- But don"t tell anybody, okay?|- All-- All right.

Okay. Sit down.

- Hey, this is some place, man.|- No.

No, it"s not. This is no place,|not for a human being.

Don"t ever get used to|a place like this, Lesra.

You got a lot of guts, kid.

Takes a lot ofcourage to come|all the way down here by yourself.

I"m impressed.

- I was scared you|weren"t gonna let me come.|- Me too.

But you"re Rubin ""Hurricane"" Carter.|What would you be scared of?

Well, doors opening,|ofthe light outside...

ofyou.

- Me?|- Mm-hmm.

- Mr Carter, I don"t understand.|- Oh, no, no, no,|don"t call me Mr Carter.

- Call me Rube.|- Rube?

Yeah. Rube.

All right. Rube.

So, tell me about these folks|you"re livin" with.

- Oh, the Canadians.|- Yes.|- Yeah, I got pictures of"em.

Here.

This is Sam, this is Terry,|and this is Lisa.

- They"re the greatest, man.|- Huh.

Yeah, I met "em at an EPA in Brooklyn,|and, you know, they was doin" business.

They brought me home and stuff,|and the rest is what happened, man.

Yeah, that"s when|my life changed, Rube.

Just yanked a brother up and took him|up to Canada, just like that?

No, no, they asked my folks.

I see. So what do they do?|Are they a religious group...

or, uh, hippies or a commune or--

No, they fix up houses and sell "em.|You know?

- They"rejust people.|-Just people.

Just workin", eatin",|livin" together?

I don"t know. This is what they do, man.|That"s their thing.

-What"d your folks say?|-Oh, well, my dad, you know, he"s happy.

- He"s glad for me.|- Oh, good.

You see "em much,|your people, your folks?

Yeah, but sometimes|it"s hard though.

Yeah, well--

Yeah, it"s hard.

You give them hope.

- Yeah, I guess.|- You do. You give "em hope.

Because you have transcended, Lesra.

It is very important to transcend|the places that hold us.

You know that? You"ve learned to read.|You"ve learned to write.

Writing is-- it"s magic.

You feel that sometimes?

- Yeah, I guess I do.|- Mm-hmm.

When I started writing...

I discovered that I was doing more|than just telling a story.

See, writing is a weapon...

and it"s more powerful|than a fist can ever be.

Every time I sat down to write, I could|rise above the walls ofthis prison.

I could look out over the walls|all across the state of NewJersey.

And I could see Nelson Mandela|in his cell writing his book.

I could see Huey.|I could see Dostoyevsky.

I could see Victor Hugo, Emile Zola,|and-- and they would say to me...

""Rubin, what you doin" in there?""

And I say,|""Hey, I know all you guys.""

It"s magic, Lesra.

Mmm, they sure don"t teach it|that way up in Canada.

- Maybe you could tell me|some books to read.|- I can do that.

But these people in Canada or anywhere|else, they can only teach you so much.

It"s up to you. It"s your search. You|gotta fi nd out what"s true foryou...

what is true for Lesra Martin.

I never met nobody like you before.

You think I killed|those people, son?

- No, I know you didn"t.|- How you know?

I just know.

I"m so glad I met you, Lesra.

Me too.

Visit"s up.

Everybody out.

Come on, folks. Let"s go.

You like a quick picture|ofyou and your son, Mr Carter?

- Come on, folks. Let"s go.|- It"s up to my son.

Yeah, all right. All right.

That"s enough pictures.|Come on. Let"s go.

Dear Lesra...

whoever is responsible foryour present|condition obviously cares a great deal.

For me, it was a miracle to see|such light in a human being again.

When you came, it was like the day|had started off without the sun.

It"s dim and it"s cool.

Then suddenly,|and without any warning...

the sunshine breaks through the dimness|and lights up everything.

Whatya gonna do|Doyou wannaget down

Whatya gonna do|Doyou wannaget down

You been all around the world,|huh, Mobutu?

- Been everywhere.|- Shut your motherfuckin" mouth up!

Get down on it|Get down on it

- Come on andget down on it|- Where your people from, Africa?

Born in the Congo. Mm-hmm.

In the blackness of black.

My mother was a Pygmy.|She stood four foot, one inch.

- Hmm.|- My father was a big Watusi.

He was seven foot, ten.

He"d have to pick her up|like a little child to kiss her.

- Hmm, cute.|- Get down on it

Come on now|Get down on it

lfyou really want it|get down on it

What do you think ofwhite folks?

They"rejust a little bit too much|ofthis stuff, you know?

But, uh, then again...

I once rode the rails|with a hobo by the name of, um...

Alabama.

Now, he was white folks...

and he was a good man.

Mm-hmm. He saved my life|three times.

- Three times?|- Mm-hmm. Three times.

Three times life, huh?

Everything I lost...

that really matters|I lost at the hand ofwhite folks.

I know what you mean...

but they ain"t all bad.

Whatya wanna do|Doyou wannaget down

- Whatya gonna do|- But they sure can"t dance.

Oh, sh*t.

Mm-hmm.

Hey, y"all,|th-this is where we go in.

Come on.

Come on!

- Don"t look now,|but we"re being watched.|- Stop it.

Somehow I don"t think|you can smoke in there.

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