Jason climbed the metal steps to access the second-floor cells. Two of Duane’s buddies loitered on the landing, peering out over the railing, seemingly oblivious to Jason’s presence. They were both young and muscular. One of them had gold front teeth. The other had a face tattoo that covered his right cheek. Jason walked toward them, treading lightly, eager to pass by unmolested and to return to his cell.
As soon as he reached the two, they turned from the railing and tried to push Jason into an open cell. Jason braced himself, dipping and jamming a shoulder into Face Tatt, holding his ground on the landing. Gold Tooth grabbed Jason by the collar. Jason rammed his knee upward, catching Gold Tooth on his scrotum. Gold Tooth went down, shrieking, and holding his crotch.
Face Tatt hit Jason with a straight right, smashing his nose, blood spurting from Jason’s nostrils. Face Tatt tried to push Jason into the cell again, but Jason pushed back, and he was winning the tug of war. Then Face Tatt turned, his hands still gripping Jason’s smock. Face Tatt used Jason’s momentum to throw Jason over the edge.
Jason pushed against an immovable object, then, in a flash, he wasn’t. He flew through the air like Superman. Just before impact, Jason turned his body, taking the brunt of the landing with his shoulder, but the side of his head hit the concrete just after his shoulder, knocking him unconscious.
Chapter 53: Down but Not Out
Jason’s eyes fluttered. The room was blurry. His mind was hazy, like he was in a dream or a nightmare. Where am I?
“He’s waking up,” someone said.
Something was in his throat. He thrashed and choked. His right shoulder burned with pain when he moved. His head pounded. Strong hands held him steady as the endotracheal tube was removed from his sore throat.
His eyes fluttered again. Dark forms hovered over him. The dark forms turned white and light blue. A doctor in a white coat and several nurses in blue scrubs stood alongside him. He closed his eyes, retreating to the darkness.
***
The lighting was dim. Jason lay on his back in the hospital bed in a drug-induced haze. Despite the drugs, his head still hurt. He wiggled his nose. That hurt too. He reached up with his left hand and touched his head. It was wrapped and bandaged. He touched his nose with the slightest of pressure. It was bandaged too. His right arm was hooked to an IV. Cool oxygen flowed into his nose from the nasal cannula. He moved his right arm, and pain radiated from his shoulder.
A young doctor entered the room, holding a file folder. He flipped through the file, then approached the bed. “Hello, Mr. Lewis. I’m Dr. Gaynor. How are you feeling?”
Jason’s voice was raspy. “I feel a little dizzy. My head’s killing me.”
“You had quite a fall.”
“Where am I?”
“You’re at Mill Creek Memorial Hospital. Do you remember what happened to you?”
Jason thought for an instant, recalling the fight, then flying over the railing, but not remembering the impact. “I was in a fight, and the guy threw me over the railing. That’s all I remember.”
“Thankfully your shoulder hit the concrete first, followed by your head, and not the other way around. You were in a coma for two days. You have a severe concussion. That’s why you feel dizzy and your head hurts.”
Jason nodded. “Did I break my shoulder?”
“It’s badly bruised but not broken. You did separate your AC joint.”
“What does that mean?”
“An AC joint separation is a dislocation of the clavicle from the acromion. This is the acromion.” The doctor touched the outer edge of his clavicle to show the location of the acromion. “It’s not a serious injury. Most people don’t bother with surgery and do just fine. It’ll heal in a few weeks.” The doctor gave a reassuring smile. “You also have a broken nose, which may cause you some discomfort at the moment. We reset your nose. You might have a little wiggle, but it’ll heal fine.”
Jason squinted into the dim light. “How long do you think I’ll be here?”
“Depends on your concussion. That’s my biggest concern. We’ll keep you here for observation until we’re certain you’re out of the woods. You have sixteen stitches on the side of your head. You’re lucky to be alive.”
Jason glanced to his right, toward the open door. From his perspective, he saw the sheriff’s deputy, sitting in the hallway outside his room. He wondered two things. How long can I stay here? Could I escape?
Chapter 54: To Snitch or Not to Snitch
Jason had been in the hospital for nine days. His AC joint separation didn’t hurt anymore, but when he moved his shoulder a certain way, his clavicle looked like it might poke out of his skin. He had two fading black eyes and a slightly crooked nose. The bruises on his shoulder had mostly healed. Even his headaches were gone, but that wasn’t what he’d been telling the medical staff.
Warden Douglas Bates stood by Jason’s bedside. “How are you feeling?”
“Not great,” Jason replied, squinting into the dim light, giving his best rendition of a concussion sufferer.
Warden Bates clenched his jaw, staring at Jason for a long time. He was a big man with a second-trimester gut. His complexion was ruddy and pockmarked, and his flesh-colored lips were nonexistent. “Do you know Duane Griffith?”
“Not well,” Jason replied.
“Do you two have a beef?”
“Not that I know of.”
Warden Bates exhaled. “He won’t stop unless someone talks. I hear his young cellmate’s dressing like a woman. Your old cellmate. You know anything about that?”
Jason thought about the snitch who was stabbed in the neck at the track. “No.”
Bates shook his head. “Inmate Griffith was in that cell waiting for you. Of course, he claims to have no idea why those inmates tried to push you into his cell. What do you think would’ve happened to you if they would’ve succeeded?” Bates waited a few seconds for a reply that never came. “The two inmates who jumped you are in seg.”
Seg was short for segregation, meaning that the two were in isolated cells away from the general population.
Jason nodded.
“I’d like to put Griffith in seg too, but I need a reason. I need your help.”
Jason hesitated. “I don’t know anything.”
Bates scowled. “There’s no need to continue this charade. I spoke with your doctor. He thinks you’re faking symptoms to extend your stay here.”
Jason didn’t respond.
“You’re going back tomorrow.” Warden Bates walked away, flipping on the bright lights before he left the hospital room.
Chapter 55: Back to the Jungle
The ride from Mill Creek Memorial Hospital back to The State Correctional Institution at Mill Creek was uneventful. Jason had had fantasies of stealing a gun from a deputy and escaping, but he was cuffed and shackled for the trip. Even if he hadn’t been, Jason knew he didn’t have the stones for that.
Jason went to Cell Block C, expecting the worst. As he walked through the common area, inmates lifted their chins to Jason. A few even verbally greeted him.
“Welcome back.”
“What’s up.”
Nobody called him kiddie fucker or chomo.
Ronnie fluttered from inmate to inmate, flirting and shaking his ass. His smock was tied in the front. The collar was off one shoulder, exposing a bra strap. Jason diverted his gaze.
Jason climbed the metal stairs to the landing that accessed the second-floor cells. He glanced at the indoor courtyard below. He had a flashback. Flying through the air like Superman, then dropping like a stone, his head cracking on the concrete. His stomach churned, and a bead of sweat slipped down his spine.
Jason turned from the railing and continued to his cell. He stopped in the open doorway. An inmate lounged on the bottom bunk, leafing through a well-worn nudie magazine.
The inmate rose from the bunk and glared at Jason. “What the fuck do you want?”
Jason clenched his jaw. “This is my cell.”
He lifted his chin. “You were in the hospital.”
Jason held out his hand. “I’m Jason.”
They shook hands. “Russ.”
Russ was short, burly, and hairy, with wiry black hair coming from his V-collared smock. Most guys wore a T-shirt underneath the smock, but not Russ.
Jason caught of whiff of Russ’s BO and turned away in disgust.
Russ stepped to Jason. “What the fuck’s your problem?”
Jason took a step back. “Look, Russ. I’d like to have an amicable relationship with you, but you have to do something about your body odor. I’d be happy to buy you some deodorant from the commissary, but you have to make all the shower times.”
Russ tilted his head and blinked his beady eyes rapidly, mimicking a girl. He spoke in a mocking high voice. “Hi, I’m Jason. I want everything to smell like roses, just like my pussy.” His voice went back to normal. “Get the fuck outta my face.”
Jason frowned and walked away.
“Yeah,” Russ called out to Jason’s back. “Walk away, bitch.”
Chapter 56: The Prison Psychologist
After a sporadic sleep, inhaling Russ’s BO and flatulence, Jason met with prison psychologist, Dr. Wendell Harrington.
Sunlight streamed through the open blinds. Jason sat on the ratty couch in the sitting area. Dr. Harrington sat kitty-cornered on the swivel chair that he’d moved from behind his desk. He was a small delicate man, with bronze skin and white hair parted to the side.
“Why am I here?” Jason asked, his arms crossed over his chest.
“I like to meet with inmates after they’ve suffered a trauma to see how they’re doing and to see if I can be of any assistance,” Dr. Harrington replied, with a notepad and a pen in hand.
“I’m fine.”
Dr. Harrington adjusted his invisible frame glasses. “Any adverse effects from the fall?”
“I’m mostly healed.”
“Mostly?”
Jason uncrossed his arms and exhaled. “I have an AC joint separation, and my nose is crooked but no pain. I still have stitches in my head, but medical will take them out in a few days.”
Harrington made a few notes in his notepad. “Any headaches or dizziness?”
“No.”
“Were you able to contact your family while you were in the hospital to let them know about your fall?”
Jason shook his head.
“You’ve only had two visitors since you’ve been in prison and no mail.”
“Chomos aren’t exactly popular, doc.”
Dr. Harrington tilted his head. “Is that how you see yourself?”
Jason wrung his hands in his lap. “That’s how everybody sees me.”
“How do you see yourself?”
“I don’t know.” Jason glanced at the closed door, suddenly feeling claustrophobic.
“When was the last time you had any contact with your parents?”
Jason fidgeted on the couch. “I’d rather not talk about that.”
Dr. Harrington made a note. “Okay. How are you getting along with your new cellmate?”
Jason frowned. “Just peachy. Apart from the fact that he smells like shit.”
Harrington smiled.
“Aren’t you going to ask me how I feel about that?”
“How do you feel about that?”
“I’d rather live with a goat. I’m applying for a transfer.”
A moment of silence passed between the two men.
“What happened between you and Ronnie Cunningham?” Harrington asked.
Jason looked down, thinking about the teen being bought and sold like a prostitute. “You should already know. He applied for a transfer.”
“How do you feel about the transfer?”
Jason turned his gaze back to the doctor. “It was a mistake.”
Dr. Harrington slid his glasses down his nose and peered over the top of his lenses. “How was it a mistake?”
Jason let out a ragged breath. “Is this confidential?”
“It is. Unless you indicate that you’re a danger to yourself or someone else.”
Jason pressed his lips together, thinking about the potential ramifications of what he was about to do. “Ronnie was manipulated into rooming with Duane Griffith, so Duane could rape him and turn him out.”
“Would you be willing to go to the warden and make a formal complaint?”
Jason hesitated. “I would need some assurances that nobody would find out that I snitched.”
“Only certain prison staff would be privy to those records.”
Chapter 57: One Month Later …
A month went by, and Jason fell into the prison routine. He worked at the resource center, ran at the track, and read many books. He’d reorganized the resource center, updating the card catalogue, and shelving all the books according to the Dewey decimal system.
Jason had withdrawn his transfer request a few days after he’d submitted it. Russ paid more attention to his hygiene after other inmates had roasted him mercilessly, calling him dick breath, pigpen, Russ Stanky, and telling him to check his drawers because he smelled like shit. Jason had figured it was better to stick with Russ, given that he could physically overpower Russ. Transferring could put Jason in close quarters with a powerful predator. Russ was a con man and a thief, but he wasn’t violent, as far as Jason knew.
Jason did file a formal complaint against Duane, with anonymity assurances from Dr. Harrington. Duane was immediately put into seg, and Jason hadn’t seen him since. There had been rumors that Jason had snitched, but his name had been circulated along with Duane’s numerous enemies. Nobody had proof, and, with Duane out of sight, along with two of his buddies, everyone had moved on.
Ronnie had been transferred to Cell Block E. Rumors were that Ronnie was being passed from inmate to inmate, still playing the part of the prostitute. Once an inmate was “broken in,” unless he was placed in seg, he would be raped regardless of where he was transferred.
On the last Thursday in May, Jason met with his attorney in a private room. Jason sat across the table from Norman Tuttle. A guard waited in the hall, ready to escort Jason back to the resource center after his meeting.
“The trial is set for July 24th,” Norman said. “I plan to push for a change of venue. I don’t think you’ll receive a fair trial in Loganville.”
Jason nodded. “Do you think they’ll change the venue?”
“I don’t know. The plaintiff will argue that they can easily find twelve people in Loganville, who don’t know who you are, and they’ll be right. People forget pretty quickly, and some never paid attention in the first place.”
Jason looked down. “My case doesn’t look good, does it?”
Norman shook his head. “No, it doesn’t. I’d like to put my PI to work. New evidence is the only way we’ll win. Sometimes witnesses change their stories. Sometimes they remember things. Is there anyone you think we should talk to?”
“Becky. I know that’s probably not possible, but she might tell the truth this time.”
“I’ve already tried. The Murphys aren’t letting anyone near her. I do have an interesting lead though. Not sure if it’ll turn into anything.”
Jason perked up. “What’s the lead?”
“I heard through the grapevine that Cody Price and Susan Murphy called off their engagement. I contacted Cody, and I’m meeting with him next week. In my experience, exes can be a treasure trove of dirt.”
Chapter 58: Worthless
“I’m surprised to see you,” Dr. Harrington said, standing from his desk.
It had been over a month since their first and last session.
Jason and Dr. Harrington shook hands. “Thank you for meeting with me,” Jason replied.
“Of course. Anytime.” Dr. Harrington gestured to the sitting area. “Have a seat.” He moved his swivel chair next to the couch.
Jason sat on the couch.
Dr. Harrington sat on his chair, flipped open his notepad
, and removed the pen clipped to the pad. “What brings you here today?”
Jason took a deep breath. “I guess I needed to talk to someone who doesn’t charge me $300 an hour.”
“Are you referring to your attorney?”
Jason nodded.
“I’m all ears.”
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
“I’m not really sure where to start,” Jason said.
“Start anywhere you like,” Dr. Harrington replied.
“I, um, … I was getting used to this place. I settled into the prison routine. I have my job at the resource center, which I actually like. I’m no fan of my cellmate, but it could be worse. I’m getting by. I started to think I could do this. I could do my fifteen years, get my early parole, and get out of here. I’ll only be fifty-one. I have money. I could start over. Now … that’s no longer an option.”
Dr. Harrington knitted his brow. “How so?”
“I’m being sued. The lawsuit stems from my criminal charges. My attorney interviewed a witness yesterday, hoping to find new evidence, but he came up empty-handed. I spoke to him on the phone earlier today. He didn’t sound confident. I had convinced myself that he would find something. It’s hard to have any hope in here.” Jason hung his head and rubbed his temples.
“What do you think you’ll do when you’re released?”
Jason raised his gaze. “I don’t know. It’ll be difficult to get a job as a felon. I’m not sure my skills will be relevant in fifteen years.”
Dr. Harrington jotted down a note. “You were a financial advisor, right?”
“Yes.”
“Are you not able to be a financial advisor with a felony record?”
“Technically, yes, but who the hell wants to entrust their money to a convicted felon? I was hoping to invest my own money when I got out, but there’s a good chance I’ll lose everything in this lawsuit. It’s a lot easier to make money if you have money.”
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