ROLL CALL ~ A Prison List (True Prison Story)

by Glenn Langohr

  “Hey hommie, the hommie Bat blasted Chinto in the back of the head with a fucking sword!”

  The Mexican in the cell said, “Chinto did Bat’s issue of dope in the shower yesterday. He deserved it. Did Chinto fight back?”

  The Mexican on the tier said, “Hell yeah he did.

  Somehow he produced a piece of glass and went right to Bat’s neck with it. There’s blood and pepper spray all over the place in the kitchen.”

  The Mexican in the cell said, “This is stickamore… I bet we still get our showers and walk to chow tonight though.”

  The Mexican on the tier said, “This is the wild, wild west side of stickamore!” As he walked away.

  For the next half hour Damon and Vince listened to Mexicans conversation about the incident.

  “Hey holmes, Bat’s lucky he didn’t use my ice pick. He’d be fighting a murder beef right now ‘cause my poker would have went halfway inside the brain.”

  Another older Mexican responded, “Hey hommie, keep that telling on yourself stuff off the tier, you make yourself look like a youngster… Besides, those swords aren’t meant to kill, they’re used to leave a lifelong deep and puckered scar. Bat should tell Chinto to tattoo Bat above it so everyone can see what happens when someone steals Bat’s issue of dope.”

  Half an hour later the trays of food were passed out. Vince watched how the cells around him slid the empty trays back on the tier when they were done.

  When the trays got picked up, Mad Dog’s voice made his presence felt and thundered authoritatively.

  “EXCUSE ME ON THE TIER!! ALL WHITES ON THE TIER, WE HAVE A MANDATORY WORK OUT POLICY YOU AND YOUR CELLIE MUST PARTICIPATE IN!! WE WORK OUT WITH THE MEXICANS IN TWO GROUPS AND AT THE END OF THE ROUTINE WE DO 123 BURPIES FOR THE MEXICANS FOR A TRIBUTE!! THIS IS YOUR FIFTEEN MINUTE WARNING!! NOW I HAVE TO RESPECTFULLY ASK THAT ALL RACES ON THE WEST SIDE OF SYCAMORE PUT OUT ALL CIGARETTES AND WICKS IN RESPECT OF OUR ROUTINE!! THANK YOU!!”

  “THANK YOU!!!!”

  A Mexican’s voice repeated the same thing Mad Dog had in Espanol.”

  Fifteen minutes later Mad Dog’s voice yelled, “TODAY WE ARE DOING THE SHORT LIST!! IS EVERYBODY READY!!!”

  “READY!!!!”

  A Mexican yelled, “LISTO!!”

  “LISTO!!!!!”

  Mad Dog yelled, “FIRST GROUP, READY, 150 JUMPING JACKS!! BEGIN!!”

  Vince asked Damon, “Do you want to go with the first group or the second group?”

  Damon said, “I’ll go with the second group so I can see what the routine is like.”

  Vince did his set of jumping jacks and sat on the bunk when he was done and said, “Now I see why everyone rolls that mattress up and puts it at the end of the bunk. It’s so we don’t sit on the mattress and sweat all over it.”

  A Mexican yelled out to the second group. “LISTO!! VAMANOS!!”

  Vince and Damon went through the list of pushups, arm rotations, squats, lunges, knees to chest and then back over the same exercises. At about the halfway point Mad Dog yelled,

  “WOODPILE, HOW DO YOU FEEL?”

  Every white on the west side yelled, “ONE HUNDRED PERCENT!!!!!”

  Mad Dog asked again to build the crescendo, “HOW???”

  Every white on the west side, “ONE HUNDRED

  PERCENT!!!!!”

  Mad Dog, “THAT’S WHITE!!!”

  The Mexican calling their cadence, “MEXICANOS, COMO SE SIENTE???”

  All of the Mexicans yelled, “DAKAIUS!!!!!!”

  Vince and Damon worked out inspired by the growing crescendo of energy. At the end they were both near exhaustion.

  Damon said, “Squeeze your stomach muscles when you exhale and you’ll get your second wind back faster.”

  Vince tried it and Damon couldn’t help but notice how shredded he was. “Vince you don’t have an ounce of fat on you.”

  Vince said, “Yeah but I can’t seem to ever get much bigger either… Do you mind if I take a cell shower first?”

  Damon shook his head that he didn’t mind and watched Vince tear off a piece of paper and put it in the sink. He held it down until enough of the hot water from the sink held it in place for him.

  Damon followed suit and showered after Vince and when he was finished cleaning up he asked Vince something he’d been wondering about.

  “Vince… Are you scared of dying in here?”

  Damon watched Vince think about it with his back to him standing at the bars looking out. After a minute he turned.

  “I’m not scared of dying; I’m scared of living… When my mind asks me questions I don’t want to answer like, why did that happen? Or how should I feel about it? I get scared to answer my own questions. I have to live in the Moment and look for excitement so I don’t have time to answer.”

  Right then a visitor showed up and got Both Vince and Damon’s attention. The visitor set the broom he was using on the bars and then grabbed two handfuls of them like they were his.

  Vince studied the thirty something year old white guy hanging on their cell. He had his shirt off and his head cocked impossibly far back. Vince discerned he was doing it to show them the tattoo he had on his neck better. It was a three letter tattoo in old English that spoke of his gang affiliation. On his stomach he had another old English tattoo of where he was from, ANAHEIM. The rest of his tattoos on his chest, shoulders and arms were a jumble of evil looking artwork to complete the picture. Vince thought, he sure is trying to get a lot of mileage out of those tattoos.

  Damon stared at the 5’8 inch, out of shape looking visitor and thought, now that’s gang banging with your eyes!

  The visitor seemed to decide it was time to start the introduction. “Hey youngsters, check this out. I’m Mikey and the shot caller of the gang you see tattooed on my neck. Now who in the hell are you? What do they call you? What do you claim? Where are you from? Do you have your paperwork? I’ve got to get your name to put on the roll call. When do you go to store? You know about our white kitty right? That means you tell me when you’re going to store and for how much and then I give you a list of items to buy for the kitty. It’s 30%!”

  Damon stood up and grabbed the bars a couple feet higher than Mikey. From 6’3 he towered over him and looked down at him for at least a minute before asking, “What?”

  Downstairs at Mad Dog’s cell, Mad Dog said, “Okay Irish that’s enough time. Go up there and rescue those youngsters and get them to handle that business during showers!”

  Vince heard the running feet and watched a red headed husky white man approach. Damon looked his way and saw him ask Mikey, “What are you doing over here on the west side Mikey? Take your gang banging ass back to your side and get off our youngster’s over here!”

  Mikey grabbed his broom and scurried off down the tier.

  The big red head looked into Vince and Damon’s cell and said, “I’m Irish, Mad Dog’s cellie. Excuse our little pocket pinball. Mikey is alright but he has some severe A.D.H.D… He straight bounces off the walls. What was he saying anyway?”

  Vince said, “He was trying to pressure us into joining his gang.”

  Vince noticed Irish look confused, but cover it up by talking, “I thought he was hitting you up for our white kitty. He runs the east side of sycamore’s kitty. The kitty is for those of us with money. If you go to store with more than ten bucks then we appreciate it if you contribute some cosmetics. We stock soap, shower shoes, shampoo, lotion and even some coffee to give out to those without so nobody is forgotten about and everyone is cared for… That leads me to the next item of business. Here take this and read it.”

  Irish handed Vince a little note.

  Vince and Damon read the note… If you lived next to a couple of child molesters would you be okay with it?

  They both looked into Irish’s eyes and shook their heads that no, they wouldn’t be alright with that.

  Irish handed over another note.

  Vince opened it up and he and Damon read… We’ve got a couple of h
i-profile child molesters in the cell next to you! One of them made the news for molesting nine different little girls and the other one molested his own daughter! We’ve got the paper work to bona-fi it in our cell.”

  Irish handed over a third note. “We want you two to handle it when they run showers. Make sure you get to the bottom showers first so the child molesters have to go to the showers above your cell on the third tier. Get over there and use those utensils my cellie gave you, one in each hand alright… You’re doing your race a service, youngsters.”

  With that un- said Damon and Vince watched Irish walk away and ask over his shoulder from a couple cells down, “Hey Vince and Damon, we’re you able to handle that workout routine?”

  Vince and Damon responded at the same time, “It was no problem.”

  Vince went to the trash bag and pulled out two of the weapons.

  Damon watched him manipulate different ways to grip the handles like it was completely foreign to him. He practiced throwing upper cutting swipes, then tried side cutting swipes and then tried another grip He stuck the back of the two weapons against his palms and made a fist over them so that each fist had a four inch point sticking out the end of each fist. Then he switched the grip again so he was holding the weapons like a hammer. He practiced with a downward hammer chop and looked up and said, “I like this grip best!”

  Damon felt the chaos of the situation closing in on him and focused on viewing the problem as clearly as possible.

  “Vince. We are being hung out to dry. There has to be a better way to do this mission. Like when we are coming back from chow…”

  Vince stopped practicing his hammer chop and said, “I thought about that. We’re not in a position to barter how this gets done. We have choice A., follow orders and get the child molesters or choice B., get Mad Dog, Mikey or Sandman for the disrespect… I like choice A.”

  Damon responded, “You’re forgetting about the other 24 letters in the alphabet.”

  CHAPTER 42

  For the next couple of hours Vince lay on his rack and looked like he was in his own world. Damon paced the cell to try and control the anxiety that felt like it was trying to clamp around his mind like steel bars in another prison. He visualized and thought of options. We live right next door to those child molesters; there is no way we aren’t going to get identified for this! Plus there isn’t even a plan to get rid of our weapons!

  Both Damon and Vince heard the iron clanking noise of the latch that meant a deputy was about to open up cells. They looked into each other’s eyes for the first time in the last two hours as deputy Primo announced the showers.

  “LISTEN UP. WE ARE RUNNING SHOWERS!! WE ARE RUNNING THE WHITE SHOWERS FIRST!! STAND BY! COME OUT IN YOUR BOXERS AND SHOWERS SHOES ONLY!”

  Damon stood at the door with a lump in his throat and watched Vince.

  Vince grabbed the brown bag with the weapons in it and wrapped it in his towel in an odd looking bundle.

  The cell door popped open and Damon rushed ahead of the child predators coming out of their cell to beat them to the downstairs showers.

  Vince came out of the cell holding his bundle and tried to catch up to Damon. He noticed deputy Primo disappear out of the hall and realized they were unsupervised. Vince thought, Damon was right; there is a better way to do this. Images of Mad Dog having Mikey come over from the east side of Sycamore with some makeshift razor weapons entered his mind’s eye. He could have handled the business, got rid of the smaller weapons, and then got back to the east side where identification would have been nearly impossible, for a clean get away. Vince shook his head of those thoughts to concentrate on the task at hand.

  Damon got to Mad Dog’s cell and entered the shower. He saw a box out in front of his cell and realized it had shampoo, deodorant, shower shoes, soap and lotion. He saw Bird and Pelican reach into it for some shampoo. The child predators were right behind them waiting for their turn to get to the white kitty. Damon watched Vince come down the stairs and almost drop the brown bag of weapons. He caught it sliding out and re-bundled it up against his stomach. Then he turned his body to avoid being seen and it looked even more obvious as he walked by the child predators looking weird.

  Damon watched Bird and Pelican’s expressions register Vince’s near accident. Damon thought, they know something is up. He opened the shower door for Vince so he could get in. Vince got in and huddled behind Damon out of view.

  Damon watched the child predators climb the stairs and looked at Mad Dog staring right back at him.

  Damon realized the child predators were on the third tier walking to the showers and he looked at Bird staring at Mad Dog.

  Bird asked, “What’s going on holmes?”

  Mad Dog maintained his stoic stare at Damon and said, “Go handle that, youngsters!”

  Damon looked at Vince and saw he had the weapons out of the bag. He handed two over and rushed out of the shower and up the stairs. Damon got a grip on the weapons and followed suit.

  As soon as the youngsters headed up the stairs, Mad Dog looked at Bird and said, “Those two getting into the third tier showers are a couple of hi-profile child molesters.”

  Understanding the situation for what it was Bird responded angrily, “What’s wrong with you holmes, you don’t use kids on their second day in prison for a job like that! You’re a child predator yourself!”

  Mad Dog didn’t even have time to respond. He watched Bird run for the stairs with his cellie Pelican right behind him.

  Damon got to the top of the stairs and saw Vince come to a stop in front of the showers. Damon sprinted as fast as he could and saw Vince enter the shower with both his weapons held in front of his face in his preferred hammer technique. Damon got to the shower and time seemed to slow down.

  Vince was hammering with both of his arms like pistons. One of the two child predators had pushed the other in front of him and was using him like a shield. The shield was catching all of Vince’s steel in the chest with his arms in front of his face.

  Damon reacted on instinct and his body seemed to be moving without his brain coordinating it. He found himself in the shower, practically climbing over Vince to use his longer reach to get to the sheltered child predator.

  On the way up the stairs, Bird heard a piercing scream and then, “NO!! PLEASE STOP!!” from one of the child molesters.

  At the showers, Bird saw Vince’s weapons were on the ground in the shower. Vince was grappling with his thumb in one of the child predator’s eye. Damon was still hammering away at the other child predator.

  Bird squeezed into the shower and grabbed the weapons on the ground.

  Noticing Bird, Vince and Damon got out of the shower breathing hard on the adrenaline surge.

  Bird stepped out of the shower and looked into the youngster’s young eyes pleading, what do we do now?

  Bird folded up the weapons in his towel and said, “Run these downstairs and get them in the trash!”

  Bird turned back to the shower and saw his cellie Pelican go in swinging. Bird followed him.

  Vince got down the flight of stairs to the second tier and saw more than a dozen prison guards carrying shields; block guns and Billy clubs fan out beneath them.

  One of the guards yelled, “DROP IT ON THE GROUND FACE DOWN!!”

  While laying there Damon heard Bird and Pelican’s punches echoing loudly. He heard one of the child predators crying, “Please stop.”

  Then Bird, “I bet that is what the little girls said too punk!”

  Vince watched Damon lean his head against the steel cage while maneuvering his handcuffed wrists behind his back to try to find a more comfortable angle.

  Vince copied the same body position and remembered what the deputy had last told everyone. “You’re going to be in those cages for at least 6–8 hours until your paperwork is processed to get you housed in the hole, AD-SEG, in Palm Hall.”

  Damon looked into the steel cages Bird and Pelican were in un-handcuffed straight across the hall. Both
of them looked like their heads and upper bodies had been spray painted orange from all of the deputies pepper spray. They had used all of it. Damon remembered the empty cans of it getting kicked off the third tier and landing next to he and Vince. Damon thought about how every 15 minutes for the last couple of hours a deputy came out to spray decontamination mist on them. It looked like it brought on a hell of a lot of pain and their poor eyes look completely blood shot red.

  Bird watched the deputy come out of the Sergeant’s office and told his cellie Pelican, “Hey homeboy, I think I’ve figured this out. Tilt your face up at an angle towards the mist so the pepper spray on our heads runs down the back of your neck instead of in your eyes.”

  Vince watched Bird and Pelican face the misters in an upward posture as the spray started. Both used their hands to wipe the mist away from their eyes until the two minute rinse was complete and the deputy went back inside the office.

  Damon watched Pelican grit his teeth with his eyes clamped shut, yell, “Fuck! This shit burns holmes! That fucking mist re-activates the pepper spray every time! I wish they’d just stop misting us and put us in the hole!”

  Somehow, Bird laughed through his pain and said, “Mad Dog is as stupid as a box of rocks holmes! He should have had Mikey handle that mission! Mikey already owes for calling a bad shot in the past! Now Mad Dog is going to owe!”

  Eight hours later Bird watched Sergeant Fountain come out of his office and stand in front of Damon and Vince’s steel cages. Sergeant Fountain stood there and thought, the “once wide awake and trying to take everything in” little puppies finally ran out of gas. He slammed his Billy club against the steel cage and watched Damon and Vince’s eyes pop wide open. “Wake up kids! It’s time to escort you to the hole!”

  Vince watched Sergeant Fountain handcuff Bird and Pelican’s wrist through a slot in the steel cage. Then he opened the steel door and Bird and Pelican backed out.

  Damon stepped backwards out of his cage and looked at Bird while Vince backed out of his cage.

  Bird said, “Come on youngsters, were almost home.”

  Leading the procession Sergeant Fountain said, “I hope you like your new home ‘cause you’re going to be there for about two years.”