‘Take on the world! There you go again. Why do you feel the need to take on the world?’
‘That’s just the way I am.’
‘But isn’t that what got you into trouble in the past?’
‘I have manic energy. In the past I got into trouble because I used it in a negative way that brought about my arrest. But if I use the energy in a positive way, I can do well, avoid trouble and achieve great things. That’s my goal. I was way too immature before. I feel that my experience has tempered me somewhat, although I recognise I’m still immature in certain ways. I’ve tried to eliminate the immaturity that led to prison, while maintaining a spontaneous spirit in the way Jung recommended we harness the energy of our inner child.’
‘But when you’re too spontaneous, consequences suddenly arise that you hadn’t thought about.’
‘That’s been the story of my life – and the hardest lesson for me to learn. When I say I’m ready to take on the world, I mean I’m excited to pursue the plan I’ve formulated to achieve my long-term goals. When I think how close I am to employing everything I’ve learned in prison to the purpose of succeeding in the outside world, I’m thrilled.’
‘Well, don’t get so thrilled that you’re like my dog jumping up on a visitor with a look that says, “Let me chew on your arm, please.”’ Dr Pedder raises a hand and presses the tip of a forefinger to a thumb. ‘I’m telling you, she was this close to getting euthanised.’
‘I’m not averse to chewing on someone’s arm.’
Dr Pedder laughs. ‘Well, I truly wish you luck out there.’
‘And thank you for the sessions. I’m going to be all right on the outside.’
‘As you’re pursuing these grand plans of yours, don’t forget to pull yourself back from time to time and ask yourself whether what you’re doing is going to lead to trouble.’
‘Believe me, I will.’
71
‘Guess what happened to your friend Bud?’ T-Bone asks at the fence.
‘He talked some shit about you, so you smashed him,’ I say, smiling.
‘Nope. He got strung out on heroin and passed out. To wake him up before the guards busted him, his associates shoved ice cubes in his asshole.’
‘No shit!’ I say, puckering. ‘It couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.’
‘Frankie got busted sending heroin through laundry bags and trying to incite a riot in the chow hall, so they’ve shipped him off to supermax.’
‘Oh no! I hope they don’t give him more time.’
‘And She-Ra sends her love from lockdown. She got in trouble for talking shit to a guard.’
I’m never going to see her again. Being unable to say goodbye to She-Ra hurts.
‘I’m so glad you’re getting out,’ T-Bone says. ‘I can see you are, too. It’s written all over your face. But listen, something you really need to do is sit down with Mom and Pop and learn who they really are as human beings. How long have they been married?’
‘Nearly 40 years.’
‘Can you imagine all the ups and downs they’ve been through? Yet they’re still together. They’re successful people. Learn how they did it, so you can grow and obtain wisdom and knowledge and understanding. You’ve been through some things in the States and you didn’t connect with your family in the right way. I’m telling you as a man, you need to sit down with them over a cup of tea. Do you have the guts to do it?’
‘Yes.’
‘And when you’re talking with them, if your heart doesn’t jump with pride, honour and astonishment, then you’re empty inside ’cause what they’ve done takes strength. You also need to stay away from party girls and to focus on one woman. What are you gonna do if you meet some chick in a flimsy little outfit, a fishnet dress maybe, and she’s five-seven, nicely built, up on heels, with plenty of make-up, and she has a bunch of X, and she comes to you and says, “Bring your pretty little butt over here, Shauny?” You have to make a choice. She’s mesmerising. She’s tantalising. She’s sexy. Her breath smells like cinnamon and jasmine. Her bed is perfumed with myrrh and aloes like the harlot in Proverbs 7. Are you gonna go for the temptation that leads you down the path of destruction?’
‘No!’ I say, shaking my head.
‘Are you gonna allow her perfume and drugs to seduce you, to take you to the demonic realm?’
‘I’m out of that lifestyle. I’m more likely to be hanging out at the library than at a club with women like that.’
‘You think people don’t do drugs at libraries!’ T-Bone yells. ‘At the Phoenix library, two guys started talking to me about Civil War history. We went to a coffee shop. We were having an intense, enlightening conversation. The next thing you know one of the guys goes, “I wanna do a line of meth to wake up.” So I leave them to it. I get in my truck and keep going. They weren’t my type of people. They were brainiacs like you. And if you’re going back to university, so many people do drugs there it’s unreal. It’s part of college life now to do meth to stay up.’
‘I know.’
‘You need to understand some simple things. All kinds of challenges are gonna come at you – bam!’ – T-Bone punches his palm – ‘’cause you’re back out there again.’
‘I’m not gonna worry about it. My mum’s more worried than I am.’
‘That’s ’cause she loves you. You’re getting out, the weather’s gonna hit you, your mom’s face, your father’s face, your sister, the smell of the house, memories, some good, some bad, and you’ll think about stuff that happened here – the American women – and you’re gonna miss that. There’s gonna be times when you feel bored, incomplete, and those are the moments when you’ve got to make the right choices. In your little town, there’s not gonna be a whole lot of things going on on the surface.’
‘I know, but I intend to go back to university.’
‘For what?’
‘Creative writing.’
‘You’re an intelligent man. You don’t need a professor to teach you something you already know.’
‘I need refinement.’
‘And practice will bring that. Find some interesting characters to write about. You’ll be like Dickens. I’ve come to realise, patience is the key when you first get out. You have to develop things, build things slowly. There’s people who are positive and negative that are going to come into your life – some will be sneaky, others outright. If they catch you in certain moods and situations, and you make a bad choice, you’ll fall. It doesn’t matter if they’re in a stretch limo or a compact car, you have to be able to size them up and make the right choices in every situation you’re in. When I first got out, I thought I’d changed from my old ways, but I went back to it in a different way. There’s levels of stupidity. You think, Well, I’ve changed. I’ll do it this way now. I’ll go to the clubs but not get in the mix. I’ll just get a drink, say hello to a few people and leave. But then you fall right back into it.’
‘My focus is on writing, not clubbing.’
‘So you’ve made a conscious decision that that’s what you’re gonna focus on in your life?’
‘Yes.’
‘If you’re set with that, then you can’t deviate if things go south.’
‘I won’t. I’ll persevere.’
‘You never know what tomorrow will throw at you. There are levels of intensity you’ve got to go through, like being a Royal Marine set on defending England. Or the guys with the bearskin caps that stand there without blinking. It takes a special man to be able to do that – English focus – and you have that in your blood. You have ability; just apply it. Apply the positive you’ve learned; the negative, get rid of it. Stay focused on your objective. Don’t allow small-minded people to come along and bring you down. With a mind like yours, you’re gonna make money, but challenges will arise. And don’t forget to sit down with Mom and Pop.’
‘OK.’
‘I know you won’t go back to your old ways because if you do then you’re gonna have to deal with me.’ T-Bone
punches his palm again.
‘Yikes!’
‘I’m gonna miss you, man,’ he says.
‘I’m gonna miss you, too. L&R, my friend.’
‘L&R, and God bless you.’
Through Yard 1’s perimeter fence, I shake the biggest hand I’ve ever seen.
Later on, Two Tonys calls me to the fence. The sadness in his eyes weighs on my heart.
‘I can’t believe I’m never going to see you again,’ I say.
‘Me too, little bro. But I’m sure glad we crossed paths on the road of life. Out of all the motherfuckers I’ve ever met, you’ve changed my way of thinking the most.’
‘I really appreciate that coming from you. But ultimately you’ve changed your way of thinking,’ I say, drawing on Dr Owen.
‘You need to take some fucking credit!’ Two Tonys says, smiling. ‘And stop being so fucking humble.’
‘All right, I’m glad I’ve helped you,’ I say.
‘That’s more fucking like it! I’m not good at saying goodbyes, so I’m gonna head back,’ he says, his voice quivering, as if he’s breaking down.
‘Wait!’ My ability to remain composed crumbles. Fighting back tears, I gulp. Pressure streaks down my jaw and rises up my face. ‘I love you, Two Tonys. I’m never going to forget you. I’m going to keep writing to you.’
‘I love you, too, my little bro.’ He stares, saying nothing, gazing intently, as if etching my image onto a screen in his brain to take back to Yard 4. The emotion on his face is warm, but it devastates me. He raises his hand and pats his heart. ‘L&R, little bro. L&R.’ Behind his glasses, tears glisten.
Tears stream down my face, clinging to my cheeks like the memories of everything I’ve been through with Two Tonys. ‘I’ll always remember your PMA and what Ivan Denisovich went through. L&R, Two Tonys.’
He turns and walks away. The more he shrinks in the distance, the more my heartache intensifies, and the louder I sniff and sob. I imagine he feels the same.
Back in my cell, I reflect on the intensity of my feelings for my prison friends. All my life, I’ve gone on missions, from conquering the stock market to throwing raves. My new mission revolves around my friends. I’ll help them however I can. Getting their stories out to the world will make a difference in their lives. It’s my destiny.
72
In the lead-up to my release date, I write almost daily to my parents:
Monday, 12 November 2007
To Mum,
I appreciate the motherly and protective concerns that you expressed in your last letter. I know that you worry because you care for me, but I think you are worrying a bit too much and this is what is making you ill.
Max wrote from Las Vegas, saying how well he is doing there and how the things he had worried about before getting released didn’t even come to pass. You are concerned over how I’ll cope with freedom, but, like Max, I have a family and a home to go to, all of which make coping easier. For me, coping applies to being in prison and dealing with daily hazards, such as striving to maintain health and sanity. I’m leaving all that behind and the coping skills I’ve learned in here will help me.
You are worried about my intention to isolate myself and concentrate on writing. You interpreted this to mean that if I’m around certain people I’ll be tempted to get involved in the kind of things that led me to wearing pink boxers, so, to avoid temptation, I’m going to cut myself off from everyone. I know you want the best for me, but your interpretation is wrong. I don’t intend to cut myself off from everyone. I need to talk and meet people. The ‘shutting myself off’ you mentioned refers to my commitment to a disciplined routine, which I’ll need to further my writing.
Your concerns apply to the former me. My immature self had his wild-partying, oats-sowing days. Those are long gone. I’ve been forced to change and mature in prison. Such former wild behaviour is over. I’m driving myself forward and all the temptations in the world will not stop me. You claim I’m unbalanced – ah! – you’ve got me there. Unbalanced, I am. But bipolarity can provide the energy needed to excel at things many people would give up on. Don’t worry, I intend to take breaks and have some fun, but I have no desire to revisit the excesses of my former life. And nothing or no one could ever influence me to do so.
You are also trying to soften the blow of my former behaviour by rationalising it away as the influence of my friends. But the truth is I chose those friends and chose to behave in that way, so I take full responsibility for what happened. I want very different things when I’m released.
My heart is in the right place, so stop worrying because the former me no longer exists. Try to be happy for the new me, who has so much to look forward to when he gets home.
Love you loads,
Shaun
Tuesday, 13 November 2007
… I read a Solzhenitsyn bio that I couldn’t put down. It’s as if fate stepped in just before my release and strengthened my commitment to making a go of writing.
My suffering can’t compare with what Solzhenitsyn had to endure, yet he rose from prison to spearhead the literary elite of Russia. Death called on him so many times: on the front fighting the Nazis, in Russian prisons and then in the form of cancer. Reading about the odds he overcame has inspired me. From prison, he was exiled to Kazakhstan, where he knew no one and he ended up lodging in a corner of a kitchen in an old couple’s house. As for me, I have your loving home to go to. He set strict limits on his social life and gave writing his all. He funnelled his prison experiences into fiction in such an honest and compelling way that his book about Ivan Denisovich caused a revolution in Russian writing. This quote really touched me: ‘The writer’s tasks concern more general and eternal questions – the secrets of the human heart and conscience, the clash between life and death, and the overcoming of inner sorrow.’
These Russian literary geniuses (including Tolstoy and Chekhov) seem to have a knack for penetrating the soul and portraying it in an uplifting way in their prose. Not that I could come anywhere near their genius, but I’ve tried to go some way in that direction and as I continue my writing should mature.
Anyway, I learned a lot more from this bio than I can convey in this letter – especially how I need to have a disciplined work ethic, like I had when I began stockbroking. I’m used to a monastic life, so you locking me in the garage and feeding me meagre meals won’t be a problem.
I’d like to use the knowledge I’ve gained to help with prison reform, or to speak to young people about my involvement with drugs and how I ended up celled up.
I’ve certainly undergone the ‘impoverishment and devastation’ that, according to Thomas Mann, constitute the preliminary conditions to serious writing. And Solzhenitsyn claimed: ‘Good literature arises out of pain.’ I’d be happy to accomplish a fraction of what Solzhenitsyn accomplished.
With your help, I just need to follow through on the opportunities that continue to be provided and to keep myself emotionally stable …
Wednesday, 14 November 2007
Today has been a day of conflicting emotions. Thanks for putting in the calls necessary to get the wheels of bureaucracy turning. I am insanely happy that my release was finally confirmed this afternoon and I have been scheduled to be picked up by ICE this Friday. This morning the counsellor told me, ‘Your release is confirmed,’ at which point my heart leapt – then he added, ‘But you’re not down as being scheduled for release,’ at which point my heart sank. Getting released isn’t easy.
The prisoners, who knew I wasn’t scheduled for release (because word came back from the prisoner clerks privy to these things), had been placing bets on whether or not my release would go through and, if so, which day they expected me to get out, or whether I’d be stuck here until my next release date. Some still doubt I’ll get out on Friday. Others have been shaking my hand, offering congratulations and asking for my mailing address in England. A few who have barely ever talked to me before have come to my cell, struck up a conversation and then, a
t the end of the conversation, have asked me something like, ‘By the way, have you decided who you are going to give your sunglasses to when you leave?’ Departing prisoners shower their friends and neighbours with gifts in the form of personal property before they leave.
Thursday, 15 November 2007
I managed to talk to Jack, whose mentoring eventually led to my spurt of short-story writing. Meeting Jack has been a privilege and an honour, and I intend to help him in any way I can. We hope to co-write a serial-killer novel. I’ve barely blogged anything about him, but behind the scenes he’s been a massive influence on my development as a person and a writer. It’s tragic that such a brilliant mind is stuck in here. I wish I could help him get out, but he has four natural life sentences. I feel a pang, a strange hurt, leaving him behind.
I said goodbye to Shannon, too. How rough he had it in his formative years and how well he’s turned out. I hope he sticks with blogging. He has a following now and it’s great that he’s experiencing the feedback and fun of blogging that I’ve experienced. He’ll be out in a few years.
Slingblade trundled across the rec field. I yelled, but he didn’t respond. I wanted to say goodbye and to assure him I’d try to get some organisation or other interested in helping him get out. He should have been released two or three years ago.
Friday, 16 November 2007
10.45 a.m. (lockdown for count)
Prisoners and guards are asking me why I’m still here, aware that ICE should have picked me up today. I have to explain that due to a clerical error they’re coming on the 20th. Only four more days.
Prison Time Page 32