A Ride Home from Rikers

I was in the bodega with Peppa, grabbing some snacks, when a young guy who had just gotten out of lockup asked the store clerk if he could use the phone. The clerk told him he couldn’t. I went over to the guy and offered to let him make a call from my cell phone. He called his girlfriend, and we helped him get an Uber home.

While I was helping him out, another guy walked in and asked the same question, getting the same answer from the clerk. He had just gotten out of Rikers Island. I told him the same thing—that he could use my phone to call someone for help.

I decided to stick around and chat with them for a bit. I asked how they navigated and survived in Rikers. The second guy told me that people like him wouldn’t let someone like me get messed with in there because I didn’t look like I lived that life. He said someone like him wouldn’t allow the “wolves” to come after me. I explained that I had decent training and could defend myself fairly well, but he said it wouldn’t matter—those guys don’t fight fair. According to him, they’d rather stab or cut you than get into a fair fight. But he kept repeating that he wouldn’t let that happen to me.

I wasn’t sure if I should feel offended or take it as a compliment. Was he saying I look soft, or did I come across as professional? Either way, I’m good with it—I have no intention of ever being in that situation if I can help it.

I know there’s always a risk when helping someone out. They could snatch my phone and run, or things could go south in other ways. But I tend to believe that someone getting out of Rikers isn’t in a rush to go back. And honestly, it felt good to help members of my community when they had no way to get home. If you have the chance to help someone in a tough spot, why wouldn’t you?