ROLL CALL ~ A Prison List (True Prison Story)

by Glenn Langohr

  Damon studied his left hand side and noticed a sign that read: MADRONE HALL. It also had a sign that read: KITCHEN. There wasn’t anything else to see so he looked to the other side as their caravan pulled up. He looked up at the sign and realized it was a different kind of sign. This one was made of redwood and had the letters: Sycamore Hall stamped on it. Above the printed letters stamped into the wood there was the word stickamore etched into the wood.

  A new prison deputy came out of Sycamore. Another Mexican with a name plate that read, Primo. He looked at deputy Gonzalez and shook his head like he didn’t like something. He nodded his head at Sandman and he took the opportunity to get into Sycamore.

  Damon thought, here we go, we’re going to get moved right next to those child molesters.

  Deputy Gonzalez asked, “Do you have a cell for these two?”

  “We’ve got cell 215 open, the last cell on the second tier on the west side. I wanted to get these two youngsters sent to the east side but the only cell we’ve got over there is being held by main control for black inmates.”

  Deputy Gonzalez looked at Vince and Damon and said, “You guys didn’t want to go over there anyway. It’s all black.”

  Deputy Primo pulled Deputy Gonzalez aside and said, “You know that cell is right next to those chesters that came in last night don’t you?”

  “Yeah. I know. Are you worried these youngsters are going to have to do it?”

  “You know Mad Dog has that side of Sycamore… He’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, in fact he’s straight up stupid… But he is a big ass crazy white dude.”

  Damon and Vince listened in on the conversation and watched deputy Primo wave good bye to deputy Gonzalez.

  Deputy Primo walked back over and said, “Check this out youngsters, It’s Friday night right now. I need you to keep your noses clean until Tuesday or Wednesday. That’s how long it’s going to take to get you out of central and over to the west yard. We have to keep you here until medical clears you.”

  Vince said, “No problem.”

  Damon nodded his head.

  Deputy Primo asked, “Do you know what cell you’re in?”

  Vince said, “215.”

  Deputy Primo nodded his head and knew they had overheard.

  CHAPTER 39

  Vince turned into the hall and turned to the left and saw the desk the deputy sat in. He couldn’t see into either hall from there and thought, we must not even be supervised.

  Damon followed Vince into the hall and shut the door behind him.

  The noise of the door closing brought a lot of people to their cell bars to see what was going on. Someone down the way yelled out of their cell, “HEY CHINTO! WHO IS THAT HOLMES? ARE THE JAVES ON THE TIER?”

  Damon saw Vince studying the cells on the first tier, so he looked at the shower directly to their right, past the last cell. There were two Mexicans in it and one of them was watching the door intently to see if a prison guard was coming. It looked like he decided that it was clear and yelled, “IT’S JUST SOME YOUNGSTER GAVAS, FLACO’S GOT THRUSHA FOR A SECOND!”

  Damon watched who he was assuming was Chinto grab something from Flaco. It looked like it was a hypodermic syringe. He turned so his back was to the tier and got busy with something. With nothing else to see Damon turned his attention to the cells on the second tier. The first cell he looked at, directly above him, had a big hairy Mexican in it that had two big tear drops tattooed under his right eye. Damon looked into those eyes for a second and saw a lot of hate there. He looked down the tier further and saw heavily muscled tattooed down arms hanging out of bar doors. One of them had a homemade rear view mirror and was watching Damon in it at the same time. Time seemed to slow down. Damon looked at Vince and saw him staring at a big white guy in the cell ten feet away staring back at him.

  Vince studied him standing at the bars with his large chest and upper arms blasted down with ink. He looked like he weighed about 240 lbs. at six feet of stockiness. He had a large tear drop tattoo under his right eye. Vince realized he was being waved over to his cell and decided, this is Mad Dog.

  Vince told Damon, “Come with me.”

  They both walked the ten feet and Vince realized the large tear drop was actually a swastika. His head was shaved bald and was also very large. He had a collage of art work on his chest that included an Ace of Spades, some crime scene tape and a naked goddess with her arms and face to the sky. Both Damon and Vince were busy looking at it when they heard him say, “Which one of you is Vince, and which one of you is Damon?”

  Damon looked at Vince’s surprised reaction to how he knew their names.

  “Sandman told me your names before he ran over to the chow hall. I’m Mad Dog.”

  Mad Dog studied the youngsters standing there trying to look so tough. He thought, Sandman was right. These kids don’t have any tattoos and I’d be giving them the chance to earn some by adding some steel in those high-profile child molesters. He thought about how he’d also pointed out that the rest of us whites over here in Sycamore are just doing a few more months of prison time in violations, whereas these youngsters are doing four year prison terms. They won’t even catch much more time… Sandman had also suggested we shouldn’t let the rest of our whites in this block know about the molesters because they’ll all throw their two cents in on how it should get handled and it’ll be a big cluster-fuck mess. He remembered how Sandman had said, Just bait the youngsters and give them some steel and we’ll have them do it during showers…”

  Vincent said, “I’m Vincent…”

  Damon said, “I’m Damon…”

  Both Damon and Vince looked down the row of cells next to Mad Dog and saw Mexican faces watching and listening.

  Mad Dog said, “The sandman also told me you two looked like a couple of white warriors. I’m trying to figure out how he came up with that. You don’t look too bad ass to me. Can either of you fight any good?”

  Vince puffed up a little and bit. “I grew up on the streets and have fought my ass off! I don’t win them all but I hold my own.”

  Mad Dog maintained a stoic mask and looked at Damon for his response.

  Damon felt the eyes on him and thought, this is some kind of trap. “I can hold my own.”

  Vince noticed Mad Dog get frustrated. His big forehead wrinkled up into five deep lines.

  Mad Dog took his time and thought it out, then came up with, “Sandman also told me that you two got caught up in cutting it up with the deputies about taking his job as porter. Then you had the nerve to Mad Dog him and gang bang on him with your eyes. That’s a no-no.”

  Damon studied Mad Dog and thought, I was right, this is a trap. Maybe if we wait him out and stop biting he’ll get ahead of himself and we’ll see where he’s going with it.

  Vince bit. “You better run a check on that noise you heard! This is what happened. Deputy Gonzalez, Gonzo, stirred the pot and disrespected us by asking Sandman if he was going to add us fish to the list of torpedoes in Sycamore. The Sandman disrespected us by telling Gonzo that he wouldn’t use us because we’re kids, and you don’t sent your kids into the street. So get your facts straight stud.”

  Damon watched Mad Dog’s forehead wrinkle impossibly deep and thought, here we go.

  Vince watched Mad Dog go get something under his bunk and bring it back and hand it through the bars.

  Vince grabbed it. It was a brown sandwich bag the lunches came in. He opened it far enough for Damon to see.

  Damon looked in and saw four six inch pieces of sharpened steel. Each one had strips of sheets wrapped tightly around the bottom ends of them for handles.

  Damon asked, “What’s up with these?”

  Before Mad Dog answered, Vince slid the bag into his waistband to hide it.

  Mad Dog said, “Do you two have any idea where you’re at? Check this out youngsters; we’ve got seven white cells on this side of Sycamore, six on the other side, eleven in Madrone across the hall, five in Cypress and Seven in Palm Hall. The fe
llas in Palm Hall are heading to Pelican Bay, to the S.H.U. You landed smack dab in the middle of level four southern headquarters where all business gets handled with those things I gave you! We’ve been running the routine the fellas put together with the Mexican mafia since 1982. I just wanted you to know how we get down over here since you’re picking fights with one of my integral components.”

  Vince interrupted, “We aren’t the ones picking fights!”

  Mad Dog exploded, “Hey youngster keep your mouth shut and your ears open while I’m talking to you! School is in session! If the Sandman says you were gang banging on him with your eyes, then you were! That’s why I gave you that bag, so you’ll be on equal footing with the rest of your white race in here.”

  Mad Dog let that set in and thought, I’m running out of time, the deputies should be popping their cells any minute.

  Mad Dog said, “I want you to answer one question, but do it carefully. Are you going to be a benefit to our race, or are you going to disrupt our race?”

  Damon watched Vince jump on the baited hook right as the noise of iron clinking together signified their cell was getting popped open.

  “We’re here to benefit our race one hundred percent!”

  Mad Dog nodded, “All right youngsters, get to your cell.”

  Vince and Damon walked to the stairs and walked up them to the second tier. Damon looked at Vince and saw his left hand covering the lump pressed against his waist under his clothes.

  At the top of the stairs, Vince looked to his right and saw deputy Primo in a separated cage holding a steel handle that apparently opened the cells. He turned and walked down the tier toward the end and saw each cell had two heavily muscled and tattooed down bodies in boxer shorts. Every face seemed to be studying he and Damon.

  Halfway down the tier, two stout white men stopped Vince and Damon. “Hey, real quick youngsters, I’m Bird and this is my cellie Pelican. If you two need anything at all don’t hesitate to come to us. We’ll be right here for you little brothers.”

  Both Damon and Vince said, “Thank you.”

  Damon was about to introduce himself but a Mexican in the next cell yelled, “SPENCER ON THE TIER!! JAVES ON DA SEGUNDO TIER!!”

  Right after that Vince listened to Mad Dog yell, “EXCUSE ME ON THE TIER!! THE KEYS ARE ON THE SECOND TIER!!”

  Bird and Pelican noticed how shell shocked Damon and Vince looked standing there not knowing what to do.

  Deputy Primo tapped his keys against the steel enclosure.

  Bird said, “Go to your cells youngsters. When he clanks the keys like that it means lock it up or he’ll do some cell searches and get you in trouble. We’ll talk to you at chow time in a little bit.”

  CHAPTER 40

  Damon followed Vince into the cell and closed the barred door behind him. He felt a claustrophobic feeling squeezing in on him as the iron cell door clanked shut. He thought, this cell is impossibly small! It’s only about 8 feet wide and half of that is swallowed up by our bunks. I can’t even get by Vince while he’s standing there! Damon turned around and faced the bars and practiced sticking his arms out like everyone else had been doing. He looked down at his arms and realized, I need some bigger arms and tattoos. He changed his stance and grabbed the bars instead. He looked at the wall in front 15 feet away. About 10 feet up the wall it turned into a glass window. A lot of it was broken. Like someone had thrown something up there from the main hall to send pieces to the other side. Damon imagined the big pieces of glass being wrapped at the end with sheet for use as a modified knife.

  Vince stood studying the cell and wondering where to put the weapons. The cell was only 10 feet long and the bunks took up 7 feet of that space. Vince looked at the toilet and sink, practically an extension from the end of the bottom bunk. He thought whoever sleeps on the bottom rack better face the other way. He imagined someone’s head right next to their cellie’s pooping butt. On that note, he wondered if the weapons would slide down the toilet.

  “Damon, where should we hide the weapons?”

  Damon turned around and looked at Vince. “How about we turn the brown bag they’re in into a mini trash bag and put it right next to the toilet. We can put some toilet paper over the top of the weapons for some cover and if we need to we can dump it in the toilet if the guards are coming.”

  Vince nodded his head. “That’s what I was thinking… Which bunk do you want to sleep in?”

  “It doesn’t matter. We can switch on a weekly schedule or something if you want…”

  An hour later deputy Primo made his presence felt and announced a warning to get ready for evening chow. A few minutes later the cell door popped open.

  Damon and Vince stepped out on the tier and noticed the child molesters in the cell next to them didn’t come out. One of them shut the cell door and both of them avoided making eye contact.

  Bird and Pelican walked over and Vince took a visual inventory. Both Bird and Pelican looked like studs at about thirty years old. Neither looked like they belonged in prison, but both looked very capable. Both had well groomed slicked back brown hair and blue eyes on a stoic looking G.Q. face. Both of their arms were inkless from the elbow down but you could see the tattoos started somewhere up the biceps and triceps. Both had a pair of boots they set on the ground in front of the cell.

  Bird shook hands with Damon and said, “Welcome to the west side of Sycamore. Me and Pelican here have your back youngsters and we’re the only other white cell on this second tier. The rest of the whites are on the first tier and we’ve got three cells all in a row above you on the end of the third tier. You’ll be going to chow with us and sitting at our table so we’re together.”

  After shaking hands, Bird looked into the cell the child molesters were in and asked, “Why aren’t you two going to chow? We’ve got a mandatory everything over here on the west side. That means mandatory workouts, chow, showers and yard. You have to come out and participate in all of it!”

  One of the child molesters on the bottom bunk said, “Nobody told us that. We just got here last night.”

  Pelican said, “Now you know!”

  The line to chow started moving and Vince wondered if Bird and Pelican knew that they had just been talking to a couple of hi-profile child molesters.

  Damon assumed they didn’t know and wondered, would we be in the wrong for telling them? The opportunity didn’t seem to present itself.

  Vince was busy taking in the surroundings. He thought, Mad Dog was right, everyone here looks like they’ve been doing this for ten to twenty years. It must be our turn to prove ourselves and earn some points.

  Damon was thinking, it can’t be wrong to tell Bird and Pelican about those child molesters, we would want them to tell us if the situation was reversed, but how do I tell them?

  On the way back from chow Damon realized the opportunity to talk in private was gone. The space just wasn’t there.

  Back inside their cell an hour later the lights on the tier clicked down to a dim.

  All the noise from conversations going back and forth from cell to cell got quiet.

  Mad Dog’s voice and presence took over in a deep and loud command and reverberated in the echo chamber.

  “EXCUSE ME ON THE TEIR!! OVER HERE ON THE WEST SIDE OF SYCAMORE WE HAVE A LIGHTS OUT POLICY!! THIS MEANS NO MORE YELLING OUT OF YOUR CELL!! IT ALSO MEANS THERE IS TO BE NO MORE CELL TO CELL TALKING!! THE ONLY TALKING THAT SHOULD BE IS BETWEEN YOU AND YOUR CELLIE, AND THAT MUST BE KEPT TO A MINUMUM IN RESPECT OF THIS POLICY!! WE WANT TO RESPECT EVERYONE WHO IS GOING TO SLEEP!! THANK YOU!!”

  Everyone in all 45 cells yelled out at the same time in a booming crescendo, “THANK YOU!!!!”

  Vince and Damon looked at each other impressed with the powerful cadence and the respectful rule and realized they hadn’t added their voices to the “THANK YOU!”

  Mad Dog yelled out another deep, “WOODPILE… GOOD NIGHT!!”

  Everyone of the whites in cells yelled, “GOOD NIGHT!!!”

&n
bsp; This time Damon and Vince got into the cadence.

  Mad Dog yelled, “THANK YOU!!”

  Damon and Vince added their voice to the return, “THANK YOU!!!”

  The Mexicans sounded off next and with a lot more of them it was even louder!

  The blacks were next and they yelled out something in Swahili and added some WHOOP WHOOPS!

  Vince laid down on his bunk and said, “Now I know what Mad Dog was talking about when he mentioned the integral components. It felt like he was a maestro leading an orchestra and we were the integral components.”

  CHAPTER 41

  In the morning Vince woke up just before Damon and wondered, what’s our program going to be like today? I should have asked Bird if we have yard or showers today.

  Damon heard Vince get up, got up, and stood next to the toilet to take a piss. He thought about it and imagined himself standing there peeing into the toilet and some of it splashing onto the rim of the toilet, along with the noise of it hitting the water in a stream. He decided to sit down.

  While Damon sat there, Vince heard some commotion on the tier and stood almost leg to leg with Damon to see what was going on. From the cell door Bird could be seen walking down the tier with some Mexicans.

  He walked up to Vince and said, “We’re getting cell fed this morning because of an incident in the chow hall while we were setting up to feed. A couple of Mexicans had an insane knife fight that was off the hook. We still might get showers in the afternoon though.”

  While Bird walked to his cell, Damon and Vince listened to one of the Mexicans explaining what happened a few cells down.