“What were they like?” Dr. Harrington asked.
“What do you think they were like?” Jason replied.
The doctor spoke in a calm voice. “I don’t know. I wasn’t there.”
Jason chewed on the inside of his cheek, still not making eye contact. He spoke barely above a whisper. “They were abusive. Physically. Emotionally.”
“Sexually?”
Jason shook his head.
“What happened with these men?”
Jason glared at Harrington. “I’m done talking.”
Dr. Harrington paused for an instant. “I think this is important. It might provide some insights into your behavior—”
“Fuck you. You think I molested children because some scumbag molested me?”
Dr. Harrington slid his glasses down his nose and peered over the top of his lenses. “What do you think?”
“You don’t fucking get it, do you? It doesn’t matter what I think or say or what I do. People will always see me as a child molester. If I told you that I was innocent, would you let me babysit your kids?”
Dr. Harrington opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
“I didn’t think so. The fact that I was abused doesn’t give me a fucking excuse to abuse a child. What happened is in the past. My choices are my own.”
“It’s not uncommon for victims of abuse—”
“Get the fuck out.” Jason pointed to the door. “I said I was done.”
Dr. Harrington pressed his lips together. “We’re making progress.”
Jason spoke through gritted teeth. “We’re not. Please leave.”
Dr. Harrington stood from the chair. “I hope we can resume our sessions once you’re out of the hospital.”
“I’m not talking to you anymore.” Jason glowered at Harrington for a long beat. “You understand me?”
Chapter 65: Seg
Jason lay in his bunk, reading The Rainmaker by John Grisham. It was first published five years ago, but it was one of the newer novels in the resource center. When he finished the chapter, he used his bookmark to hold his spot and stood from his bunk. His cell in seg was six by nine, with a single metal bunk and a toilet with an attached sink. Light came from the fluorescent tube overhead, and a small sliver of a frosted window that offered no view whatsoever.
He was in his cell twenty-three hours per day. All his meals were delivered through the food pass on his door. Most days he was given rec time in a segregated outdoor cage. Three days a week he was taken to the showers. Since he’d returned from the hospital six days ago, he’d seen the medical staff twice. Once to remove his stitches, and once to check that he was healing okay from his surgery.
He paced in his cell, which amounted to walking three steps, turning around, walking three steps, and turning around again. He wanted to do push-ups, but Dr. Chung had instructed him not to exert himself for at least four weeks, and even then he was supposed to ease back into activities.
As he paced, he thought about his dilemma. Warden Bates was right. Once an inmate was “broken in,” it was open season. He’d be sent back to general population in a month. What then? I have to send a message to the first guy who tries. How? I’ll still be weak from the surgery. I can’t exercise yet. I’ll need the element of surprise somehow.
The food pass opened, and a covered plastic container appeared. Jason went to the door. CO McCloud’s grinning face was in the door window. Jason hadn’t seen him since the attack in the shower. Jason grabbed his lunch and turned around.
McCloud rapped on the window with his billy club. “Don’t fuckin’ turn your back on me.”
Jason faced him, his jaw set tight.
“How did it feel to get fucked?”
Jason stared blank-faced.
“Now you know what Becky felt like.”
Jason still stared blank-faced.
“I can make your life a livin’ hell.”
“I’d like to eat my lunch.”
“Go right ahead. I put some special sauce on it for you.” He cackled and walked away.
Jason went to his bunk and opened the plastic cover to find a peanut butter sandwich on white bread with canned green beans. The bread was compressed in spots with what appeared to be someone’s fingertips. He pulled the bread apart, wondering if McCloud spit in his food, or worse. Jason took his lunch to the food pass, sliding it back without taking a single bite.
Chapter 66: Back to Gen Pop
Jason was escorted back to Cell Block C on July 20, carrying his belongings in his laundry bag. He entered the vestibule with the CO. The door to the hallway shut behind them. The next door opened. A cacophony of shouts, laughing, and talking came from Cell Block C. It was jarring after thirty-six days in the relative quiet of seg.
“Move it, inmate,” the CO said.
Jason stepped into Cell Block C. The door to the vestibule shut behind him. It was just before dinner, and the inside courtyard was bustling with activity. A few inmates noticed Jason, and they alerted their friends. As Jason walked toward the stairs, most of Cell Block C watched his every move.
Someone shouted, “Faggot.”
The crowd laughed.
A few inmates blew kisses.
Someone else said, “Bitch gonna be my prison wife.”
Another inmate said, “Hey, white boy.”
Jason ignored the comments.
“Hey, white boy. You’re gonna give up that ass.”
Jason climbed the metal steps toward his original cell. Russ had been given another cellmate while Jason was in seg, but it hadn’t lasted. The day before Jason’s release from seg, McCloud had taunted Jason with the fact that he was back with Russ. McCloud had said, “He’s gonna make you his bitch.”
Jason entered his old cell. The smell of feces was in the air.
Russ was on the toilet. He grinned at Jason. “Look who’s back.”
Jason tossed his laundry bag on the top bunk. He eyed his old locker, eager to lock his possessions inside, but it was only a few feet from the toilet.
Russ leaned forward on the toilet and wiped his ass. He glanced back at the shit stain before dropping it in the toilet. He stood from the toilet, flushed, and pulled up his pants. He didn’t bother washing his hands.
Russ sauntered to Jason. “This is my cell. You can live here, but you’re gonna do what I say.”
Jason dipped his head and nodded.
Russ grinned again. His teeth had a yellow film. “That’s what I thought.” Russ moved into Jason’s personal space. His breath smelled worse than his shit. Russ grabbed Jason’s hand and placed it firmly on his crotch. “We’re gonna have some fun tonight.” Russ left the cell, headed to dinner.
***
That night, after lockdown and lights out, Jason lay on his top bunk, waiting for the inevitable. Dim light came from the door window. Rustling came from the bottom bunk. Russ rolled out of bed and stood. Jason closed his eyes, feigning sleep.
Russ grabbed Jason and shook him. “Get up.”
Jason opened his eyes and turned his head to Russ.
Russ shook him again. “Get up. Come down here.”
Jason climbed down from his bunk, moving slowly and deliberately. Jason faced his cellmate, his head bowed in deference.
Russ’s hairy gut hung over the waistband of his white boxers. He wore nothing else. He pulled his boxers down to mid-thigh, releasing his penis. He masturbated with a smirk on his face. “Suck my dick. And watch your teeth.”
Jason cringed and said, “I’ll do it, but I need you to do one thing.”
“What?”
“Close your eyes and pretend I’m a beautiful woman.”
Russ narrowed his eyes. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about?”
“Otherwise, we’re both faggots.”
Russ grunted his understanding. He closed his eyes, still stroking his penis.
Jason reared back and threw a right cross, connecting perfectly with Russ’s jaw. Russ fell back, his body seemingly useless. He hi
t the back of his head on his locker and slumped to the floor, now sitting, his head hanging to his chin. Jason grabbed a fistful of his hair, lifted his face, and gave him another right cross, opening his lip, blood staining his teeth. Jason pounded his face again and again. He wanted Cell Block C to know. Russ moaned, his face covered in blood.
Then, Jason wrapped his large hands around Russ’s neck and squeezed. Russ tried to hit Jason’s arms, but he was too weak. Jason held firm, staring into Russ’s wide-open eyes. Jason imagined he was choking Duane. He imagined he was choking Lenny, his mother’s old boyfriend. Lenny’s face was beet red and terrified. He turned from red to blue. Then, Lenny’s face was gone, replaced by Russ. Jason let go and stepped back.
Russ wheezed and gasped for air.
Jason watched the man struggle for air, without an ounce of sympathy. When Russ’s breathing normalized, Jason stepped closer, leaned in, and said, “Next time, I’ll fucking kill you. You understand me?”
Russ hung his head and wept.
Jason grabbed a fistful of his hair and raised Russ’s gaze. His other arm was cocked for another straight right. “You understand me?”
“Yes. Yes. I understand,” Russ said, his face covered in blood and tears.
Chapter 67: No Escape
The next day Jason expected to be put back into seg for rearranging Russ’s face, but that’s not what happened. Russ had two black eyes, a split lip, bruises on his left cheek, a cut under his eye, and fingerprint bruising around his neck, but Russ didn’t snitch. The rest of Cell Block C got the message though. Once word got around that Jason had pummeled Russ, the catcalling and disrespect stopped.
In the afternoon, Jason browsed the bookshelves in the resource center, removing out-of-place books, and placing them on his cart to be reshelved. The inmate who had taken Jason’s place at the resource center hadn’t organized the books properly.
Seven inmates from Cell Block D were escorted into the resource center. Jason set a book on his cart and glanced at the front desk to see if anyone needed help. The inmates walked toward the computers and magazines, but one inmate spotted Jason between the bookcases and sauntered his way.
For a split-second, Jason couldn’t place the man. Then the man grinned, showing his gold teeth. Jason turned to exit the situation, but another man sauntered toward him, blocking his escape. Jason recognized the muscular inmate and his face tatt. They moved closer, trapping Jason between the bookcases and the two inmates.
“Remember us?” Gold Tooth asked.
“You need something?” Jason replied.
Duane appeared behind Gold Tooth and joined the party.
Jason trembled and bowed his head in deference.
“He’s shakin’ like a punk-ass bitch,” Gold Tooth said.
Face Tatt cackled.
Duane smiled wide, his mustache spreading across his lip. “You didn’t think we were gonna forget about you, did you?”
Jason showed his palms. “I don’t want any more trouble.”
Duane chuckled. “Too late for that, white boy.” Duane’s face turned serious. “How did it feel to get fucked like a bitch? I heard I tore up your little pussy.”
Jason peered over Duane’s shoulder, hoping to spot a CO, but seeing nobody.
Duane glanced back. “Ain’t nobody comin’ to save you.” Duane poked Jason’s chest with his thick finger. “I got this place wired. I can get you anywhere, anytime I want. The COs don’t give a shit about a fuckin’ chomo snitch, like you. I own your ass.” Duane lifted his chin to Face Tatt.
Face Tatt grabbed Jason from behind, pinning his arms. Gold Tooth tried to grab Jason’s legs, but Jason bucked frantically, kicking the bookshelf with both legs, causing the shelf to fall into the next shelf like dominoes, before crashing into the wall. Many of the books slid off the shelves to the floor.
The racket caused a CO to appear at the end of the row. “What the hell’s going on?”
Face Tatt let go of Jason.
Another CO appeared, inspecting the leaning bookshelves and the books all over the floor. “Fuckin’ idiots. What the fuck are y’all doin’?”
Jason still trembled, adrenaline coursing through his veins.
Duane and his boys walked toward the COs, showing their palms. Duane said, “White boy knocked over the bookshelf.”
“Clean this shit up,” one of the COs barked to Jason.
Duane and his boys were sent back to Cell Block D.
Jason sat on the floor and hung his head. I can’t keep doing this. After a few minutes, he steeled himself and rose from the floor. He righted the bookshelves and began organizing the books on the floor to be reshelved. As he was organizing the books, he came across The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. This was the book that Terrance the old librarian had told him to read if he was desperate—but only as a last resort.
I have nothing to lose. Jason looked around, making sure nobody was watching. He opened the book slowly, as if it might hold a bomb. He let out a ragged exhalation, staring at the open book. Could be a lifeline or a death sentence. Probably both.
Chapter 68: The Civil Trial
Jason spent the next week in court. It felt like a repeat of the criminal trial, complete with many of the same witnesses. Norman Tuttle had wanted to include Michelle on his witness list again, but Jason had asked him not to. Jason didn’t want to see Michelle’s look of disgust, and he knew she didn’t want to be put on the stand again. Instead, Norman had used her prior testimony at the criminal trial as evidence for the defense.
The civil trial had gone much like the criminal trial, with the witnesses testifying more or less the same as they had in the criminal trial. Norman had made a big show of the tiny semen sample found on the waistband of Becky’s underwear. The plaintiff’s attorney had included heartbreaking evidence of the suffering that Becky had endured after the sexual assault, as well as expert testimony from a child psychologist who detailed the trauma she’d likely endure for the rest of her life.
On Friday afternoon, after the morning of jury deliberations, the jurors filed back into the packed courtroom.
Judge Ken Hamilton sat behind his desk on high. He was a portly man with a long gray mustache that covered his lips. He leaned into his microphone and said, “Please be seated.”
The audience settled into their pews. Jason sat at the defense table with his attorney, Norman Tuttle. Susie Murphy sat at the plaintiff’s table with her attorney. Frank and Ruth were in the audience, right behind the plaintiff’s table.
The jury forewoman, a white-haired lady with glasses, handed a folder to the bailiff, who handed the folder to the judge. Judge Hamilton, opened the folder, read the form, then handed it back to the bailiff. The bailiff handed the form back to the forewoman and gave her a few muted instructions.
The judge addressed the jury. “This will be the last time I see you, so I’d like to take this opportunity to thank you for your service. You’ve all been very attentive and very conscientious. Thank you very much.” He cleared his throat. “You’ve given a verdict in this case, and, just so you know, after the jury forewoman reads the verdict, the attorneys may ask that you be polled to make sure that each of you say it’s your verdict.” He turned to the defense table. “Jason Lewis, please rise for the reading of the verdict.”
Norman Tuttle stood, followed by his client. Jason had been more confident last time. His criminal conviction had come as a shock. He wasn’t confident this time. He was hoping that the amount would be something less than what he had. He was hoping not to be destitute when he was released from prison in fifteen to twenty years.
“You may read the verdict,” Judge Hamilton said to the jury forewoman.
Jason’s heart thumped in his chest.
The old woman stood in front of her seat on the jury, holding the folder open. She read from the form without emotion. “Question number one. Was the defendant negligent? Unanimously, yes.”
Jason winced.
Hushed murmurs came from the a
udience.
The jury forewoman continued. “Question number two. If yes, was the defendant’s negligence the proximate cause of the plaintiff’s injuries? Unanimously, yes.”
More murmurs came from the audience.
“Question number three. If yes, did the plaintiff’s conduct contribute to her injuries?” The jury forewoman clenched her jaw and glanced across the courtroom to Jason. “Unanimously, no.” She took a deep breath. “Question four. How much should the plaintiff receive?”
Susie leaned forward, on the edge of her seat, her hands clasped, as if she were praying.
“We the jury award the plaintiff the sum of 2.5 million dollars.”
Excited chatter came from the audience. Susie shook her fist, beaming.
Jason stared straight ahead, showing no emotion. He thought, I’m bankrupt.
Chapter 69: Smack
The Monday after the verdict, Jason walked on the black line to the resource center, his shoulders slumped. CO McCloud walked behind him.
“You got fucked in the ass in court.” McCloud cackled. “Two point five million bucks. God damn. There is justice in this world.”
Jason stopped at the resource center door.
CO McCloud unlocked the door but didn’t open it right away. “I have a three-year-old daughter. What do you think about that?”
Jason didn’t respond.
McCloud removed his billy club from his belt. “Answer me, inmate.”
Jason still didn’t respond.
McCloud moved closer, poking his billy club in Jason’s stomach. “When you get out in twenty years, are you gonna go back to rapin’ little girls?”
“Your daughter will be twenty-three when I get out and looking for a way to get back at her asshole father.”
McCloud punched Jason in the stomach, causing him to double over and cough repeatedly. “Say somethin’ else smart. I’d love to beat your fuckin’ ass.”
Jason stood upright.
McCloud opened the door and shoved Jason inside. “Get to work, faggot.”
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