Thug in Me

by Karen Williams

  The plan was simple but risky. I was going to go into the medical charts and get copies of my file and Charleston’s. The only way to do that would be to get a job working in the infirmary, which I did with no problem once I shared with one of the doctors that I had a degree in computer science.

  All Charleston had to do was keep it cool with the warden and get the videos to prove our case. He said that he was also taped being raped. I prayed he could find these. But he said he was now at a stage where he filmed other inmates doing it by choice or when they refused they were forced. He made sure he got the warden on the camcorder in the act. The warden always gave Charleston the job of putting the video onto a DVD and also placing a copy on his computer. He copied the DVDs as well. Every time he came back, he was shaken up by what he saw. But he kept his mouth closed and did it. I knew he wanted to get out just as much as I did. His crime was severe. It was armed robbery and two people were killed. Of course he didn’t kill anybody, but the fact of the matter was that he was there. I asked him why he did it and he said to impress his homeboys. He had never been in trouble a day in his life up until that day.

  I was desperate for this to work so I did exactly what Lewis told me to. I didn’t confide in anyone about this, not in my letters, because they were read before they were sent out and the ones sent to me were read before being given to me. I didn’t mention anything to Calhoun when he would come to visit me either. Guards were always standing by and listening to our conversations. I told Charleston to do the same.

  Once we had all we felt we needed, we gave it to Lewis. “Who is the best person to send it to?” I asked.

  “The Department of Justice and Internal Affairs.”

  And so it was done. And done so quietly and smoothly almost as if we hadn’t done anything.

  Now all we had to do was wait.

  But then—that wasn’t the end of shocking news for me. A few weeks after we sent off everything, I got a surprise visit.

  I sat down at a table to see a white woman who I had never seen before. She was in her late forties with graying blond hair, brown eyes, and thin lips that continued to tremble. I racked my brain and continued to scan her face for some type of familiarity.

  But there was none.

  “Hello,” I said calmly, resting my hands on the visiting table.

  “I’ve seen you in pictures so I know what you look like,” she told me.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Okay.”

  “But you look a little different. You’re a lot more muscular and your eyes . . . They look so aged, different from the pics.”

  “That’s what prison will do to you.” I wished she would tell me who she was.

  “I’m sure you are racking your brain, wondering who I am.”

  I chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She smiled. “She said you were respectful. She was right. Chance, I knew your mother,” she said quickly.

  I looked at her, surprised.

  “She—she worked for my mother Ellen. As her in-home health care aide. My mother is a lot nicer than me. And trusting.”

  I nodded.

  “And with all the elderly abuse going on nowadays I wanted to make sure that my mother was safe. But I have my own family and kids and no time to monitor someone that worked for my mother. So the best way to insure this was to install a camcorder in my mother’s house. I don’t know quite how to say this. But on the tapes I never saw your mother abusing my mother. But I always saw a man abusing your mother.”

  “What?”

  She nodded. “He would come over at night, always on Sundays and Mondays. On one of the tapes he even raped your mother.”

  I blinked rapidly at what she was telling me.

  “It was horrifying to watch. When I confronted your mother about it, she told me all about you. She said you were in prison and said that if she told, the man would hurt you. She begged me not to go to the police. So I didn’t, although I wanted to. I told her if he ever came back to the house she would have to go because I didn’t want that type of thing going on in my mother’s house. But I couldn’t see myself putting your mother out in the streets. And I didn’t want to because my mother truly loved your mother. But then one day she disappeared. We knew something wasn’t right because one day she said she was going to go and visit you and never came back. When she wrote my mother from prison we found out where she was. We were relieved because we feared she might be dead. She continued to write my mother from prison. And my mother used to beg me to put money on her . . .”

  “Books?”

  She smiled. “Thank you. Yes. And I did. Once a month. But one day I went and they said she was deceased.”

  I nodded.

  “And I’m sure you know that by now. I’m so sorry, Chance. I feel your pain because just last week my mother passed away. Maybe a few weeks before she died, she talked about you still being in prison for a crime you didn’t commit. She also had some stuff. Some letters from your mother and pictures of you and her when you were younger. I don’t quite know if I’m able to give them to you now, but by the grace of God if you are ever freed, which you ought to be, I can pass them on. And not just that. I’ll also hold onto the recordings,” she lowered her voice, “of your mother and that man if they will help you at all.”

  “Thank you.” I looked around quickly. “Do you remember what the guy who was coming over harassing my mother looked like?”

  She narrowed her eyes as if trying to recollect. “He was a big guy. Tall, dark skin. I don’t know if that helps much. I’ve never seen him in person. The time on the camcorder always displayed him coming after hours, sometimes two, even three in the morning.”

  No. It couldn’t be. Why didn’t I figure this shit out before? ’Cause one way or another, you gonna sell the shit for me. And believe me, your problems are just starting with me.

  I spied Roscoe to the right of me talking to another guard. In the gut the core of my being I knew who it was. I did. But I had to hear it for myself. I looked around the visiting room to see if I spied who I thought it was. I did.

  “Listen to me very carefully. Do exactly what I say. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Don’t panic, ma’am. I took a deep breath before continuing. “On the right side of this room near that table with the guy with a woman and kid in his lap.” I licked my dry lips. “About three feet from them are two guards. I want you to look at them. If one of them is the man on those films, I don’t want you to speak. I don’t want you to even blink. If it is him, clear your throat. Got it?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  I closed my eyes briefly and waited as calm as I could.

  Three seconds later her throat cleared.

  Chapter 24

  I was able to meet up with Lewis again.

  I shared the information that the lady I now knew as Emily told me.

  “Damn,” was all he said.

  His eyes locked with me. “I know what you thinking, Chance. Don’t do shit, don’t say shit. It’s fucked up what he’s been doing, but it may also work in your favor.”

  “How?”

  “She has the proof.”

  I nodded.

  “You are going to uncover two dirty-ass rats in here. Another body to throw at DOJ. So I’ma need you to keep laying low. Same for Charleston. Wait for the shit to hit the fan and we go from there.”

  I nodded and took a deep breath.

  When it was lights-out I took the opportunity to tell Charleston what Lewis told me. He really wasn’t responsive to it.

  “Why you so quiet, man? I thought the news would make you happy.”

  He sat up in the bed. “Why? I’m not getting out of here.”

  True, there was a possibility that neither of us would. But it was worth a try and if we didn’t, at least we could bring the Warden and Roscoe down.

  “We can’t think like that.”

  “I don’t want to get out of here anymore anyway.”

  I looked at him
confused.

  “After what happened with the warden . . . I can’t face my family. I come from a good family. A mama and a daddy, sisters and brothers who loved me and were proud of me. I don’t wanna go back like this.”

  “Like what? If you talking about—”

  “Do you know what the fuck happened to me up there? What I saw? What I was made to do?”

  I shook my head as flashbacks of them raping me came back. “That’s why we both need to expose his ass and maybe it will help us.”

  “Chance, I’m twenty years old. And I don’t care how old I get. I will never be able to forget what happened in there. I think about it every day and it ain’t a night so far since it happened that I ain’t had nightmares about it. I can’t be with a woman now. If I had just—”

  I cut him off. “Well, you can’t go back now. You can’t change the shit. Let it fucking go. I’m not trying to fucking die in here and even if this don’t do shit to help me I can expose his dirty ass.”

  To that he said simply, “I’m already dead, Chance. Seems like I died the day they did what they did. I will never be able to get over it. I will never be able to live like a normal man again. Never.”

  I took a deep breath, rolled over, and went to sleep.

  The next morning, when the guard called for us to get up and dressed and groomed for breakfast, I rolled over and sat up for a second. Then I hopped off my bed and pulled my clothes on.

  Charleston was still asleep.

  “Wake up, Charleston,” I said.

  He didn’t move.

  He had his blanket completely over his body and head. He must be sleeping hella good, I thought.

  I leaned over and I shook him gently. “Wake up,” I said.

  When he didn’t move my brows furrowed together.

  I reached over and pulled the blanket back. What I saw alarmed me so much I leaped back.

  He had a torn sheet wrapped around his neck and tied around the edge post of his bed. He had strangled himself.

  My eyes passed over his wide-open eyes. He was dead.

  Just weeks after Charleston’s death, The Department of Justice and Internal Affairs came storming through that muthafucka like a hurricane. Next thing I knew, I was in the room with some suits and they were treating me like royalty because I was exactly what they needed, to bring the punk-ass warden down.

  The dude from Internal Affairs, whose name was Eric Stevenson, studied me as I sat calmly in front of him. There was also a woman who worked for the Department of Justice, Leslie Miller, a public defender, John Chester, as well as the district attorney, Stephen Yearly.

  They read the letter that Lewis helped me draft. They saw the films, the copies of my and Charleston’s medical charts.

  They were also aware that Charleston’s parents were also suing for their son’s death.

  “Would you be willing to testify against him?” That was the DA.

  “Would you be willing to get me out of here?”

  He narrowed his eyes at me, picked up my file and laid it in front of me. “Sir, I’m apologetic about what you have gone through at the hands of a very sick man who has brought so much shame on our department. But. The fact of the matter is you are in prison for murder—”

  “That I didn’t do. Nor was my trial ever a fair one. The DA put a man on the stand that had never seen me before in my life. How was he credible to testify? Nor was I ever given an opportunity for an appeal. Look at my records, see where I came from, the person I was. I had no record. I ain’t never done shit and y’all locked me up while the real killer is free.”

  He nodded. “I understand your position. But—”

  “No. I don’t think you do. If you’re not willing to work with me, I’m not working with you. And that ain’t all I know. I know which guard is bringing drugs into this prison. And who is making the families of inmates, like my mother, bring them in. And the shit’s on tape also.”

  Silence. Wide eyes, was the response I got.

  “You are all supposed to be so ethical. But you all reflect the wrong you are supposed to be taking down. I’m sick of y’all shit and this broken-ass system that locks up innocent men. Trust and believe I will go public with this shit. Y’all got it under wraps now. But I’m gonna expose this sorry-ass prison. You got an innocent man rotting away in here. And I’m not the only one. But I’m the one at this time that is going to kick up dust until I rightfully get the fuck out.”

  I leaned over and looked at all four of them. “Understand I’m not giving up until y’all let me the fuck up out of here.”

  “And what else? What other information do you have?” That was the lady from the Department of Justice.

  “I just told you. A guard that works here coming to my mother’s house, forcing himself on her, and forcing her to bring drugs here. He same guard that assaulted me for refusing to sell his drugs for him.”

  I got silence again.

  “And at my say-so, the person who has possession of these recordings is ready to send them to the press,” I threatened.

  They were still silent. It made me feel like this shit was all for nothing.

  “I’m a small fish in this fishbowl. If y’all want the big fish you all are going to have to get me out this fishbowl.”

  The DA locked eyes with me and said, “Give us a moment, Mr. Wallace.”

  They all stepped out of the room.

  Those few minutes they were gone, I felt as nervous as I did when I was on trial five years ago. What if they just took their chances with me going to the press and offered me nothing? Fuck. I took a deep breath.

  Then they all came back and sat back down calmly. That wasn’t a good sign for me.

  The DA spoke first. “Mr. Wallace, we’ve managed to talk and discuss your situation along with this case and we have an offer for you.”

  I was all ears.

  “If you agree to testify in court against the warden and tell us who the mentioned guard is and furnish us with the proof and testify against him as well—” he took a deep breath as if what he was about to say next was going to kill him—“the earliest we can release you is in two years.”

  My heart sped up. I couldn’t believe it. I would have been happy if they had said five years or even ten. Just to know one day I would get out. And they were offering me two years?

  The DA looked at my public defender. “Does your client need more time to think about the offer?”

  I waved my hand and I answered before he did. “No. I’ll take it. But before I testify, I need a minute order indicating my release date.”

  Chapter 25

  Two Years later. March 16, 2010

  They made it seem like I was getting a new appeal and that from that appeal my murder conviction was changed to manslaughter. I did a total of seven years in that place and I knew I was lucky as hell to get the fuck out of there.

  I touched the scar on my face the three Mexican dudes had given me when they jumped me on the track seven years ago and laughed. I stared out the windows of the bus as it passed through a town I never thought I’d see again . . . my town, where I grew up and made a life for myself before it was snatched away for prison life.

  The warden was out, so was punk-ass Roscoe. They were going to be sent to prison for a long time and that is exactly what they deserved. And as for Randy, Lewis told me that Randy was shanked in the shower one day.

  Somebody could not help but leak the information and news camcorders were all around the prison when they escorted the warden’s punk ass and Roscoe out. Emily, like I had requested, did her part. I wondered if they had gotten a fair trial. And more importantly, I wondered what their defense would be? The shit was on videotape. What could they say? It couldn’t be denied. I was so relieved and grateful for Charleston, Emily, and Lewis’s help. I thought back to how good it felt testifying against the warden and Roscoe. All the while they were shackled like I was shackled. Lewis told me that the warden was sentenced to fifteen years while Roscoe got nine.<
br />
  I chuckled again. I was free. I wish Tyson could have lived to see this day. The day he had told me was going to come but I never believed him. And I wished Charleston was here to see the day the punk-ass warden went down for all that trifling shit he made me, Charleston, and other inmates do. I smiled and thought about my mama. I still missed her. I wished she could be here to see this day as well. It still bothered me that she had to go through all that shit that Roscoe had subjected her to, on account of me.

  After that visit with Emily when I was informed of what he had done to my mama, every time I saw him it was a struggle to not put my hands around his throat and end his life. But I managed to keep my cool and at the end he ended up in the shackles.

  Lewis told me the day they arrested him he was blocked from entering the facility. He continued to argue and make a scene, saying, “What the fuck, yo?” Then the police arrived and put his ass in handcuffs. Part of me wished they would bring him to the very same prison that he had worked at, where he was so corrupt to inmates so that they could get retribution on his ass.

  But I didn’t have to worry about the warden, Roscoe or prison anymore. I was free of that place. And I wasn’t doing shit to go back there. I never really did bad things before except maybe speed or buy bootleg CDs and DVDs. Now those things just weren’t important enough for me to go to jail. I planned on taking no chances.

  I took another breath of the fresh air that was blowing into the windows of the bus. Truth was, I really had nowhere to go. No house, no family, nothing. I wondered where Calhoun was. His number was no longer in service when I called him from the holding tank, before they released me. I knew he would be pissed that I kept quiet on getting released and even all the other shit. But I didn’t want to take any chances. People were always watching and listening. I never forgot what Tyson had said about how once inmates found out another inmate is going to get released, they would be doing all kinds of shit so they didn’t go home. Naw. I wasn’t going to say shit until I was officially released. Calhoun would get over it. I made a mental note to stop by his parents’ pad.