Mean Little People

by Dearth, Paige

  Teresa sat on the floor next to Tony, and he mushed his body into hers. She stroked his hair for a while. “I want ya to listen to me real good, Tony. If the police ask ya any questions, ya tell them ya ain’t gonna say nothin’ wit’out a lawyer. Every person’s got a right to a lawyer, and I’m gonna get ya one of those public lawyers. Prison ain’t a nice place, not even a kid’s prison. Ya mind your own business and stay away from anyone who is trouble. If other kids pick on ya, then I want ya to tell the guards. Understand?”

  Tony was crying loudly; heavy distress from deep within him came out in sharp gasps. “I’m scared. I’m real scared. What are they gonna do to me there? Are ya gonna visit me?”

  “I don’t know, baby. I don’t have none of the answers. Ya need to be strong…until we figure all this out.”

  Officer Malloy unlocked the door and pulled it open. “Tony, it’s time to go.”

  Teresa helped her son to his feet and took him into her arms. “Don’t let nobody see ya as weak. Ya can’t let ’em see ya cryin’. That’ll bring trouble to ya,” she whispered.

  The boy kissed his mother’s cheek as Officer Malloy put his hand on Tony’s forearm to lead him outside.

  “I love ya, Tony,” Teresa muttered.

  “Love ya too, Ma,” Tony said sadly.

  As Tony left the police station, his eyes darted around, and his jaw ground from side to side. His feet dragged along the tile floor. He was hoping for an escape from the inevitable. He walked out of the police station and gimped into the waiting van to begin his new life. He was petrified. Tony did not understand what was to come, but every inch of his body told him it would not be good.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Tony could smell the rot of lost, stagnant lives when he entered the juvenile detention center. He was immediately taken to a room with showers and told to undress and get washed. After being searched for drugs, he was taken deep within his steel and cement home. The other juveniles watched him as he passed, the way snakes watch their prey, preparing to strike.

  “Hey, pretty boy,” a heavy kid with a shaved head yelled, “how about you come over here and suck my dick.” The group of boys sitting with him burst into laughter.

  Tony shrank away. He tried to block it all out, but his years of torment as a child pushed in on him. That same helpless feeling reclaimed his body, and he suddenly felt more vulnerable than ever in his life. He looked up at the guard escorting him to his new home. Tony searched for a glimmer of humanity in the man’s eyes, anything to give him a reason to believe he would be safe, but the guard wouldn’t make eye contact.

  They walked for a minute longer, and the guard, his face void of all emotion, spoke to him. “Don’t look at me, you little maggot. You got yourself into this mess, and now you have to pay for what you’ve done. Those boys will be the least of your worries.”

  Tony wanted to die. Right then. Right there. In the fluorescent lighting of the cold, hard prison. From that moment forward, Tony would never fear death. Instead, he considered death his friend, a friend he prayed would visit him.

  The guard stopped at cell forty-four and turned to Tony. “Welcome home, asshole. This is where you will live and shit.”

  Tony peered inside the cell. “I’m by myself?”

  “Yep. You’re all alone to think about what a disgusting menace to society you are.”

  Tony didn’t care what the guard said. He was at least a little happy that he wouldn’t have to share a cell with the other boys. He’d noticed the majority of the boys were older than he was. Tony was only thirteen, younger than the other prisoners by three to four years—an age gap that left him at a disadvantage. Although Tony was big for thirteen, he was small compared to the others he’d seen on his way in.

  Tony walked into the small cell, and the guard slid the barred door closed behind him. He stood on the other side and looked in at Tony, who stood awkwardly, not knowing what he was supposed to do. The guard gave him a creepy smile; one side of his lip lifted, but the other didn’t move, as though he’d had a stroke. Tony shuddered and inched back toward the bed that hung from the wall.

  “Yeah, you’re going to be a favorite here. I can see it already. That dark hair and skin and those pretty green eyes of yours. Yep, the others are going to like you.”

  When the guard left, Tony sat down on the metal frame of the bed. He put his face in his hands. I have to get out of here. I don’t belong here. What’s going to happen to me? Tony thought.

  The cement walls surrounding Tony closed in on him, and he curled up in the corner of the metal bed frame in a tight ball. He must have been that way for hours because when the guard came to bring him to dinner, his legs were bloodless and filled with pins and needles. The guard standing before him was different from the one who’d brought him in.

  “Inmate Bruno, I’m Officer Geltz. I’m here to take you down to chow. A couple things you need to know. I expect obedience from my inmates. That means no fighting, stealing, or drugs. Have I made myself clear?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, you’ve made yourself clear.”

  “No, it’s yes, sir, Officer Geltz. You got it?”

  “Yes, sir, Officer Geltz,” Tony said.

  Tony’s eyes roved around the small cell. There was a lump the size of a Ping-Pong ball stuck in his throat.

  Officer Geltz unlocked the door to Tony’s cell. “Let’s go! Get moving. You need a personal invitation?”

  Tony hurriedly followed Officer Geltz out of his cell and down the open walkway. He peered into the other cells as they passed, noticing that he had the only single-person cell. Tony wondered if having a roommate would have been better; at least he’d have someone to sit with when he ate.

  Tony entered the line at the cafeteria to wait for his food. As he looked around, the other boys glared at him. He wanted to run back to his cell and lock himself in. He was surrounded by large, angry young boys. Tony knew those angry stares were meant to intimidate him, and it worked.

  All eyes were on Tony, the new guy, as he made his way through the food line. Most of the food looked like vomit. Other juvenile prisoners plopped it onto his tray. When he got through the line, he paused and looked for a place to sit. Tables of young boys ran in a line down either side of the room. Tony moved forward slowly. He tried to sit at a table just a few feet from the food line.

  One of the seventeen-year-old boys looked at him sharply. “Keep moving, you fucking asshole. You can’t sit here. We don’t need any of the shit you’re gonna bring with you.”

  Tony quickly moved on, feeling desperate to find a place to settle down. A table in the back of the cafeteria was almost empty. As he approached, Tony took a quick look at the four teens sitting at the far end of the table. He placed his tray down and quickly sat. Tony waited. The teens said nothing; they barely seemed to notice he was there. Tony took a couple of bites of the food in front of him and gagged it down. He rested his fork on his tray and glanced at the teens on the other end of the table. The four boys were frowning at Tony. He quickly picked up his tray and headed toward the entrance.

  “Where do you think you’re going, boy?”

  “To my cell, sir, Officer Geltz,” Tony said, not making eye contact.

  “That’s funny, Bruno. You haven’t caught on yet. You don’t have any freedom here. You never get to decide where you’ll be or not be. This is chow time, and that means you sit at the table until it’s time to leave. Now, get your murdering ass back to the table and sit down.”

  “I’m pretty sure those boys don’t want me to sit wit’ ’em,” Tony said.

  “Hmmm. Is that so? Well, let’s go see then.”

  “No! We ain’t gotta do that. I’ll just go back and sit down.”

  Officer Geltz rubbed his chin. “No, I think I need to go check it out for myself. I mean, after all, you did just make a formal complaint about those boys at your table.”

  “Wait. No, I didn’t. I’m not compl
ainin’ ’bout nobody,” Tony said in a panic.

  Officer Geltz grabbed the tray from Tony’s hand and laid it on top of the trash can. Then he grabbed Tony under the arm and marched him to the table where he had been sitting. As they approached, the four teenage boys fell silent.

  “I understand that you boys don’t want Bruno to sit with you. Is that true?”

  The teens stared at Tony with dead eyes.

  “We didn’t say nothing to him, sir,” Dooley, the leader of the pack said.

  “That’s not what Bruno just told me.”

  “I guess Bruno’s a liar then, sir,” Dooley stated through clenched teeth.

  “Then you don’t mind if he sits with you. That’s what you’re saying, right?”

  “’Course not, sir. This isn’t our table. It doesn’t belong to us. Nothing belongs to us because we’re all criminals, and this is your house,” Dooley recited, exactly as he’d been taught.

  “Good,” Officer Geltz said and turned to Tony. “You need to be careful about telling lies about other inmates. It could get them in trouble. I’m going to cut you a break since it’s your first day, but if you ever lie to me again, you’ll find yourself in more trouble than you can imagine.”

  Officer Geltz turned and walked off with a smile. Tony stood next to the teen boys. He didn’t know what to do.

  “You just made a big mistake, asshole,” Dooley threatened.

  “I…I didn’t say all that stuff,” Tony stammered.

  “If you didn’t say it, then go tell Geltz the Goon that he’s a liar,” Dooley challenged.

  Tony shook his head. “I can’t. He’ll punish me.”

  Dooley looked at his friends. “You’re right. What would be the fun of that when we can punish you ourselves?”

  Tony slowly moved to the other end of the table and sat down in a heap. He didn’t dare look over at Dooley and his friends. Tony already knew he would see more of them than he ever wanted.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The next morning Tony was let out of his cell, and he followed yet another guard, Officer Nash, to the showers. Inside the open shower stalls, he quickly undressed and allowed the warm water to wash over him. He was thinking about having to go back into the cafeteria and wished he could stay in his cell. I’d rather stay in my cell and starve to death, Tony thought.

  Tony closed his eyes and put his face under the water. The first blow hit him in the shoulder, and he slammed against the tile wall. The second blow struck him on his lower back. He lost his footing on the wet tile floor and fell. His hip and shoulder slammed down awkwardly. A burning pain tore through his injured muscles. Shocked by the ambush, he raised his elbows up to his ears and covered his head.

  Dooley lifted the pillowcase filled with bars of soap and walloped it down on Tony. Dooley repeated this several times, making certain the whacks were hard and painful, pummeling Tony as if he was trying to break bones. When he finished, Tony lay on the wet floor of the shower, naked and frightened. After a few minutes, he slowly got to his feet. His legs were sore. He stepped forward, and searing pain erupted from his ribs. Tony stopped and leaned against the old, cracked tiled wall and took several deep breaths. He wanted to get his clothes on and get out of the showers. He was worried that Dooley would come back and give him another beating.

  Tony left the shower room and made his way back to his cell, just as the officer had instructed him to do. He sat on his bed. His body was throbbing. His arms, legs, and back had deep-purple bruises. He was grateful that he could hide the discolorations under his orange jumpsuit.

  “Inmate Bruno!” Officer Nash yelled.

  Tony jumped. “Yes, sir.”

  “Get your stupid ass down to the chow hall and eat. Your special escort is over. Once you’re here twenty-four hours, you’re on your own. That means you get up, shower, eat, work, eat, work some more, eat, take a shit, and then it’s lights out.”

  “I didn’t know. Ya told me to come back to my cell. I got it now…sir.”

  “Well then, get a move on. Why are you sitting there if you got it?”

  Tony squeezed past Officer Nash, who took up most of the door space. He turned and hurried to the cafeteria. Once inside, Tony got his food then looked around, hoping to find another table where he could sit. He started toward the opposite side of the room from where Dooley and his gang were sitting, but Officer Nash tapped him on the shoulder.

  “Your table is over there.” Officer Nash pointed. “You sit with Dooley. Now, you run along, and if he or his rotten friends treat you bad, I want you to run back here and tell me like the little pussy that you are. Officer Geltz told me they gave you some trouble yesterday.”

  “I’ll be fine. Those boys don’t bother me,” Tony lied, not wanting to add any fuel to the fire.

  Tony made his way slowly toward the table. He tried his best not to limp. His adrenaline was coursing through his body, masking some of his pain. Tony laid his tray of food on the table at the opposite end from where Dooley and his friends sat. He looked at the slop in front of him.

  “What’s wrong, Bruno? This food ain’t good enough for you?” Officer Nash said.

  “No, sir. The food is fine. I’m just not that hungry.”

  Officer Nash gripped Tony’s shoulder, digging his fingers into his already sore muscles. “If the food is fine, then let me see you eat it. See, it doesn’t matter if you’re hungry. This is your time to eat. You gave up your right to make choices when you killed that boy. Now, you start eating, or I can feed you in front of these boys like you’re a baby.”

  Tony picked up his fork and shoved eggs into his mouth. The powdered eggs tasted like glue, and Tony had to stop himself from gagging.

  “More, Bruno!”

  Tony shoved another forkful of the yellow, rubbery substance into his mouth. This time he grabbed the glass of apple juice and took a swig to wash the food down. Before being told again, Tony lifted a piece of dry toast from the tray and took a bite; it was like eating cardboard. Officer Nash stood over him until Tony had finished all the food on his tray. All the while the other boys in the cafeteria watched, waiting and hoping that Tony would stop eating and Officer Nash would force-feed him.

  Tony put his plastic fork down and looked up at the officer, feeling victorious that he’d finished the garbage that had been his breakfast.

  “You left crumbs on your tray,” Officer Nash said.

  “I finished my breakfast just like ya said.”

  “Are you questioning me? You eat those crumbs on your tray, boy.”

  Before Tony could react, Officer Nash grabbed the back of his head and pushed it into the tray. “Lick ’em up. You lick up those crumbs right now, or you’ll be sorry.”

  With Officer Nash’s hand on the back of his head, Tony licked at the tray. The boys in the cafeteria snickered and laughed. When Tony had licked off every last crumb, the officer released him. Tony looked around the room at the boys and could see he had become their morning entertainment. Then he turned his head and looked to the opposite end of the table just as Dooley and his friend Hack gave each other a high five.

  Tony lowered his head, feeling as though he were drowning in mud. Finally the boys were dismissed to go to work. Tony hadn’t received a work assignment, and following orders, he went back to his cell. He thought about the night that Rex had died. It wasn’t his fault, yet he was paying the price. He wondered what Salvatore and Vincent had done after they arrested him. His friends knew the truth of what happened to Rex. He thought about telling the guards who really killed Rex. His loyalty to Salvatore clashed with his need to escape his new hell. Before Tony fell asleep that night, he chose loyalty.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Bruno! Get your ass moving—your attorney is here to see you,” Officer Nash yelled.

  Tony followed the officer out of the cellblock and into a private room. The room was barren except for a table and two chairs. There was a man in his late fifties sitting at the table. He looked up
over his glasses as Tony entered.

  “Tony, my name is Roger Taft. I’m a public defender and have been assigned to represent you in court.”

  Tony sat in the open chair, and Roger looked at Officer Nash. “I’ll take it from here,” he said dismissively. Officer Nash gave Roger a hard glare and left the room.

  “Are ya here to take me home now?” Tony asked.

  “No, Tony. I’m a lawyer. I’m here to try and help you get back home. I’ve already spoken to your mother, and she knows I’ve come here to talk with you today. I’m going to ask you some questions, and I need you to be honest with me. It’s the only way I can help you.”

  “How do I know I can trust ya?”

  “There something called attorney-client privilege. That means you can tell me anything, and by law I can’t tell anyone else. Do you understand?”

  Tony nodded.

  “Tony, did you stab that boy?”

  “No, I didn’t hurt no one. I tried to help Rex after he got stabbed.”

  “Do you know who did stab him?”

  Tony hesitated, wondering whether to tell the truth. When he saw the lawyer gazing at him as if he could read his mind, he quickly blurted out a lie.

  “No, I don’t know who stabbed him. All I know is I didn’t.”

  “There is a man who claims he saw you stab the boy.”

  “He’s lyin’. He didn’t see nothin’. That man didn’t come outta the store until I was already tryin’ to help Rex. He didn’t see me stab ’im ’cause I didn’t do it,” Tony said with conviction.

  Roger studied Tony, who held eye contact with his lawyer.

  “Was anyone with you the night that Rex was stabbed?”

  Tony hesitated again. “Nope, I was alone. I was walking by and saw Rex on the ground. I went over to try to help, and a man came out of the store. He saw me next to Rex and said I stabbed him.”

  “I see. Well, you have a detention hearing scheduled for tomorrow. Since you didn’t stab the boy and you don’t know who did, we will tell the judge that you didn’t do it.”