by White, Walt
Though, when everyone was outside, we all knew of Z getting dirty with his wife on the picnic tables. He was a nasty bastard in that regard. Most people knew what was going on, but the two sat there with innocent expressions as if they had just had a conversation.
TJ, the Storeman seemed to have his entire family each visit. Hell, over half the visitors were part of his clan. They came every time regardless of the circumstances. It was an irrevocable sign of love Stone had seen nowhere else. He found it strange yet comforting to know someone in Prison had so much support and care. They would bring lots of food and giggle and jest with their father who couldn’t be happier to interact with them. To the kids, it seemed to be a normal thing that their dad was in Prison. His wife would always bring the guard home baked cookies or some dessert, confirming that TJ had been in Prison more times than he’d care to admit. The guards gave her warm smiles and accepted the offering without one question.
Although there was a Prison policy of no food and drink allowed in the visitation rooms except for what got sold in the vending machines, no one obeyed that rule. So many people brought things to their family it would almost be an impossible task for one guard to keep up with it all. If they weren’t trying to smuggle the food back to their bunks, no one cared.
They even had a play area set up in the visitation room in one corner for all the kids to play if they did so. The area had a small cottage type structure playhouse that was the stash for TJ's items for the week. At the end of every visit all the bags and sacks, the family came in with ended up hidden in that area for TJ to retrieve at a later hour after the visit was completed. TJ was wealthy on the outside and had little trouble controlling the guards with bribes. He was a luxury home builder from the Dallas area.
He also was a twin, and his other twin was at another Prison Camp in Texas. They would not allow the two brothers in the same facility together. Stone could tell it pissed TJ off that they had to get separated but he never complained about it. Though if anyone brought up the topic, his face would twist into disdain and he’d change the subject.
After his visit, Stone left the visitation that day with a renewed vest for life. He held the memory of his daughter’s embrace in his mind for as long as he could. His father had spoken to him, but in all honesty, Stone’s focus had been on his daughter. Like Z, he wanted to take in every precious moment of her childhood he could. He studied every expression and every movement she made with her tiny hands as she told him wild stories from school.
The reminder of how much he yearned to be with his family was stronger than ever after the visit. All he needed was to leave with them.
He watched as they walked back to the car his daughter blowing kisses to him the whole way. He tried to take a mental picture of the image as he knew it would be two months until he could see them again.
ISOLATION
IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, Stone got dragged from his bunk by two guards. They handcuffed Stone with no reason. Next, he got put into a Prison van and transported to another building. When he arrived there, he got placed in a White room with bright lights. He got asked to remove his clothes and given a paper gown. He was in an isolation room.
What the fuck is this hell I am in? I thought.
He sat down on the concrete floor because there were no seats in the room. It was colder than hell. He could see a large pane of glass with a vacant chair. A Prison employee appears wearing a White robe and sits down.
“Mr. Sharp my name is Doctor Samberg. I am the Prison Psychiatrist. We got informed that you called your wife and told her you would commit suicide. That is why we pulled you from the general population and placed you in here for twenty-four hours to observe you and talk to you. This is a suicide watch tank.” He said.
“Four of your fellow inmates housed with you will now keep watch over you in eight-hour shifts for the following twenty-four hours. If you have something, you wish to talk to them about push the button on the wall. A red light will light up outside the chamber, and the person on the outside can talk to you through the speaker.” Doctor Samberg Said.
He asked Stone lots of personal questions.
When the doctor left the first inmate that appeared to watch Stone was Thomas.
“Hello Mr. Sharp, I am here for you today because God loves you and you are extraordinary.” “Hey, man I’m not suicidal at all, I won’t kill myself.” Stone said.
“We all have difficulties and dangerous thoughts running through our mind,” Thomas said.
“This is Bullshit. Fuck you.” Stone said.
Thomas told Stone to get comfortable because he had not seen even one inmate get out of the tank before his time was up.
“Regardless, Mr. Stone you are stuck in here because the staff thinks you are suicidal. We might need to make the most of the precious time we have today.” Thomas said.
Thomas continued to preach to Stone for his entire eight hours.
Thomas was a minister on the outside that had taken most of his congregation’s money and bestowed it on himself for lavish items. Stone got told this fellow will preach to your face and steal your items when you turn your back. He nevertheless was a charming old man. Nonviolent.
The next inmate was Fletcher.
“Hey what’s up? My brother from another mother.” Fletcher said.
“Hey Fletcher, I am exhausted. I haven’t slept yet.” Stone said.
Fletcher was always smiling and happy for a man stuck in Prison. He was an odd fellow with crazy long Black hair that never looked brushed. Fletcher also was nonviolent and dedicated to the Lord. The man seemed like a flower child from the 1960s. He was all about peace and love. Then he would start into a crazy story about some random subject that was unbelievable. Fletcher was one guy that could go on for twenty-four hours straight about far-fetched subjects. Stone got convinced he did loads of acid when he was a young man. This would be another eight hours of preaching and praying. Stone took a nap and slept on the cold concrete floor for about six hours. When he woke up, Fletcher was reading the Bible.
“Hey Stone, did you sleep okay buddy? I had this incredible vision while you were sleeping.” Fletcher said.
“God spoke to me, and he wants you to know you will do good things when you get released. Your life is going to turn around for the better,” Fletcher said.
Fletcher was a tax accountant on the outside who determined he knew more than the IRS on how the tax code got written. He handed out significant deductions to his clients not allowed. He argued right thru his trial where the Feds convicted him and gave him eight years. This man was gentle and had never hurt a fly in his whole life. He was insane as hell though and gave the Lord all his spare time now.
The third inmate to enter was old man Q. Stone was glad to see Q. He liked Q. They had a good laugh for eight hours. They talked about many things, but Q was a good listener.
“Hello Stone, what a predicament they have you in here right?” Q said.
“I am sorry about this fellow. Do you want to hear what Shorty did to Rhino this morning?” “Sure,” Stone said.
“Mr. Rhino was sleeping hard, I mean louder than usual snorting and Shorty jumped on top of him and acted like he was humping his leg. Like a dog in heat. He looked like a chihuahua trying to hump a Great Dane. It was hilarious to watch. Shorty told everyone what he would do, so he had a crowd. That guy does something to Rhino every morning to irritate him. Rhino must like him as a friend to let him survive half of the shit he does.” Q said.
“That was funny, I needed that laugh right now.” Stone said.
Q was in for trucking drugs across the country, his official title is Drug Mule. His wife had cancer, and he carried out the drug runs to pay for her cancer care. They say he had made three million before he got arrested. His wife survived and lives in southern Texas in a new beautiful ranch house. They couldn’t prove she obtained it with drug money, so she got to keep it. Q, however, got put inside for six years. He always said it was worth every
dime and he would do it again for her.
The last inmate to enter and watch Stone was Rooster. The conversation with Rooster was awkward and comprised Stone listening to his drug stories for eight hours.
“Hey, White collar! Why don’t you kill yourself dude and save me some time? Plus, it will be fun to watch” Rooster said.
“I knew you would say something like that man.” Stone said.
Rooster was a popular drug dealer in Colorado before he got busted. He had invested in over twenty buildings in downtown Denver all housed with Marijuana. Nowadays he would not even be a felon because all he sold was weed. He liked none of the other drugs. He had over one hundred million dollars’ worth of Marijuana growing when the SWAT team arrested him. When they cuffed him, he was high as hell watching Sponge Bob Square Pants cartoons on TV.
After the Twenty-four hours had been up, they gave Stone his clothes back and drove him back over to the Camp building. His fucking ex-wife had got to him in Prison, and he had not talked to her since the court building when he signed his divorce papers. She had gotten too drunk and called everyone she knew saying she talked to him and he would commit suicide. She was half crazy when she drank, anyway. Some call it wet brain because her body always had alcohol in it. So even incarcerated his ex-wife was causing problems for him. Stone got upset with her but what could he do about it, nothing. So, he let it go. Stone was learning the lesson of life that if you harbored anger towards another human being the one person, it would hurt was yourself. This was an idea he had not tried until now during this time of self-reflection in Prison Camp.
CAMP JOBS
EVERY INMATE gets assigned an official Camp job after two months’ time-served. Miss Angie assigns the job. She was a stout, grungy looking woman who held a tight, forced smile wherever she went. She alternated between one of two unflattering pantsuits every day and wore the same irritating heels that clicked down the halls, signaling her presence minutes before she arrived somewhere.
She would interview you after a few months of settling into the Camp and harass you to start a job. She was the kind of woman who had taken the job for the right reasons, but over the years she had grown weary and exhausted of trying to assist men who didn’t want help. Like all the other workers at the Prison, she got worn down from the disheartening self-serving criminals that came through the system.
She would ask you what you like doing out of courtesy, knowing nothing in the Camp will fit your desires. She was good at appearing like she cared about your input, even though she had already decided on the job you would receive.
The first job you get put on will be bathroom duty or some cleaning job, regardless of how successful or famous you were on the outside. You could be a celebrity and still wind up with bathroom duty as your first job. It is their way of breaking you in saying ‘hey you aren’t shit to us and you will scrub shit.' It was a method that would allow an incoming inmate to humble himself quick.
Stone did not understand what he wanted to do as an assigned job in this place so he could not give Miss Angie any help with suggestions. He knew she wouldn’t have listened, anyway.
When she called him into her office for the Job assignment, he was eager and nervous.
She sat in a tiny office with stacks of folders scattered all around the room. She wasted no time as Stone sat down.
She studied him for a few moments before shuffling around a few papers and clearing her throat.
“Stone you will be in the dish room. So, I am assigning you to the kitchen crew. You will get supervised by inmate Rhino he is the head supervisor. So, go tell him you are his recruit and ask him what to do. He will show you the schedule and when you are required to work. He’ll assign you a place and have other inmates train you.” Miss Angie said.
“What does that job pay? Stone said.
He realized his mistake when her face contorted into irritation.
“Nine Dollars a month,” she said.
“The money gets put on your Commissary account on the first of each month, Good luck.”
Shit, dirty dishes. At least it wasn’t bathroom duty. I thought.
So, Stone heads down to Rhino’s bunk to inform him he is the new dish room guy. He is sleeping and snoring. Stone had to admit he was eager to get the news. Though he and Rhino weren’t enemies, they hadn’t started good relations either. Maybe working with him would change his perspective and turn them into, at the least, acquaintances.
Stone waited and told Rhino after he woke up. The guard had to wake up Rhino to tell him he is needed in the dish room. The meal had started and dishes were piling up for him to clean. This is a frequent occurrence, and Rhino never seemed to get in trouble for the misconduct, just a light warning. So, after Stone eats he brings his food tray to the window and throws it on top of the other one hundred trays piled up. Rhino stumbles into the dish room and rearranges things, not even noticing Stone’s presence. He starts in on the food trays emptying their contents.
“Hey, Rhino I am your recruit. “Stone said.
“Oh, good empty the trays and throw them in the sink.”
Rhino sounded relieved to have the extra help.
Rhino gets his green apron on. So, Stone walks over and gets another green apron on. The inmates keep coming to the window hurdling their trays at Stone and Rhino like a baseball. It wasn’t until then that Stone realized how shitty it was to be on the receiving end of the dish drop off.
“You work the window and empty trays, and I will wash the trays and put them into the machine,” Rhino said.
Fuck me, this is gross. I thought.
Food mixed with spit and dirty tissues got thrown at him without a second look. He couldn’t imagine doing this every day for dirt pay.
I rather be cleaning the toilets. I thought.
Even the smell was dreadful. But all Stone could do was shut his mouth, breathe little and start his job. There was no point in complaining as Rhino would laugh at his weakness and make him work harder. He tosses the leftover food on the trays into a big gray trash can and gave the trays to Rhino. Rhino puts on his headphones and goes to work, uninterested in participating in any conversation. He fills up the sink with hot water and turns on the old dishwashing machine. It is a long silver commercial machine where you put the trays onto the belt, and they go thru the machine and come out the other end clean when working. It looked like this thing was on its last leg.
Rhino did a horrible job cleaning the trays and hurried to put the trays on the belt. When they came out the other side, he would put them on a cart in front of the machine. They weren’t the cleanest dishes, but what was clean in the Prison? When the cart was full, he would roll the cart into the chow hall where the unsuspecting inmates ate. Soon all the inmates got done eating, and all the trays were clean, somewhat, and we had to clean up and get out of there.
“When do I have to work? Every day, or--” Stone said.
“Three times a day at every meal every other day,” Rhino said.
“You will work with me. Fletcher and Thomas have the other shift. Never even think about missing a shift. None of us will cover your ass,” Rhino said.
“Ok, I won’t miss.” Stone said.
It wasn’t the most glamorous job, but it was something to do other than sit and complain all day about life’s woes. Besides, the job did, give him a newfound respect for manual labor. He had spent most his life at a desk job, working his way up through business meetings and persuasive talk. Stone did not have to deal with using his physical strength instead of his brain for a job since college.
He had to admit, it wasn’t the least bit easy. It was the job most people would grit their teeth and stick up their noses to if offered it. These occupations deserved more respect than they get granted in the outside world. The job gave him yet another opportunity to change his close-minded thoughts on certain jobs. After being in beautiful offices the last twenty years of his life, this was a big wake up call for Stone. Not only the job but it had hit
him where he was located.
He was in Prison. Though he wasn’t a criminal, he couldn’t help but feel like one. The guards, inmates, and staff all treated him like one, so why should he feel like anything but one? Was he dreaming a bad dream? He had landed in dishwashing hell. The single good thing about being a dishwasher was you were required to eat before all the other inmates because you had to clean their dishes when you get done eating.
That was an advantage Stone thought to himself because they often ran out of the main course for the last souls through the line. If you got to go first, at least he knew he would get a portion of the entree they were serving. When they ran out, you got the side dishes like green beans and cornbread.
As he left the kitchen, he could see the other kitchen crew members cleaning up. Inmates were mopping and putting up the tables. The line servers were in the back of the line taking what they wanted from the main dish. They get to go into the kitchen before everyone else to set up for the meal. It was the best gig in the kitchen by far because they take what they want and give the Campers the leftovers. Stone wondered if he’d ever work up to their position or if he would get stuck with his crappy job for the rest of his sentence.
The Federal Prison Camp had twelve areas of paid monthly jobs:
Ok so here goes the list:
1.Kitchen Crew
2. Lawn Crew
3. Shop Crew
4. Cadre Crew
5. Drivers
6. Commissary Crew
7. Powerhouse Crew
8. Food Warehouse Crew
9. Bathroom Crew
10. Visitation Crew
11. Laundry Crew
12. Inside Main (FCI Low) Prison Crew
All jobs paid nine dollars to twelve dollars a month except Cadre which paid ninety dollars a month.
(Yes, I said a month, and not per hour. It is modern day slavery wages.)