Stone Sharp Vol.1

by White, Walt

  Miss Angie would always assign one White Line Server and one Black Line Server to keep the peace. If she did not do, that one side would dominate the food racket. You would wind up with a hunger strike or something on the news. The dominating race would discriminate against the other race and starve them to death, so the one option was to have a mix.

  Wednesday was always the Black’s favorite day because it was fried chicken day.

  “They know I get the biggest piece,” Big Tokey said.

  “Wouldn’t be fair if you didn’t,” Stone said.

  Then he dumped the mashed potatoes onto the tray.

  “You think we’ll have a lot left over?” Stone said.

  “Yeah, there’s a lot today. Then again, don’t underestimate the Blacks.” He said.

  “They’re all going to come out of the woodwork.”

  They sunk into a comfortable silence and worked alongside each other. Things were still tense between them, but they were decent at making small talk. If one wasn’t rude to the other, there were no grudges.

  Just as Big Tokey suspected there were a ton of leftovers. Big Tokey and Stone divided up the extras and auctioned them off. The highest bidder in their faction would win. This went for all left-over food that inmates liked. Sometimes Stone noticed Big Tokey gave himself more than he gave Stone, but he almost never protested. It was a way to make ‘money’ regardless, so he fought it only on days he took way more than necessary.

  Regardless, being on the line was a good hustle. You had access to sugar, corn starch, salt, syrup, cereal, and more in the food closet. The food closet would get opened by the guard for the condiments for the meals three times each day. Stone and Big Tokey learned how to take extra food for chef cooking. Which meant they always had items for sale. Extra milk, cool aid, cereal, and donuts were always good sellers. Lots of times they would sell their items to the store men because he would give them credit on their personal bills. The food was king in the Camp, and they had unlimited access.

  “You just have to be careful about it,” Big Tokey said.

  Big Tokey had informed Stone when he started.

  “I know,” Stone said.

  He was irritated at the insinuation he didn’t know what he was doing.

  Once Stone had got assigned his new position as Line server people treated him different. They were, suck asses to get extra food. The difference between when he had first gotten there and now was insane. He had respect since he controlled the food flow. When white people would come through the line Stone would serve them. Then, when Big Tokey’s people came through, Big Tokey would do the serving. Both would serve the Mexicans.

  Big Tokey would give out small portions of food to the Mexicans, and if they gripe, he would tell them to go fuck themselves. Stone always gave his friends the biggest portions or people he liked. He was nicer for the amounts of food each person got, even the Mexicans. However, if you were rude to Big Tokey, he might even not serve you and tell you to move along there is nothing for you today and you could do nothing about it. Stone suspected that if Big Tokey hated someone enough, he’d tamper with a piece of food and set it aside for them. The guards noticed when a line server did this, but they almost never breathed a word about it. They let inmates work out their own beef if it wasn’t in a rowdy way. No one wanted to piss off a line server, as if you did, you could starve for weeks or end up in the bathroom all day with food poisoning.

  The next fried chicken day Big Tokey bumped into Stone while setting out the food. Stone knew it was no mistake as the day before they had bickered about how uneven the leftovers were. Stone had accused Big Tokey of taking a ridiculous amount more than he gave to him. Tokey had denied any wrongdoing and took his share of the leftovers and began his auction, deciding he would have the last say. Tensions ran thick after that moment.

  “Move, Move,” Big Tokey said.

  Stone rolled his eyes and carried on in silence, eager to finish his shift.

  As the line progressed, Stone saw Tokey’s remain on Joel, a White inmate as he moved through the line. He didn’t know why he was so intent on staring him down, but Tokey couldn’t tear his eyes off the poor man. As he got closer, he ground his teeth and tighten his grip on each piece of chicken he tossed at an inmate.

  Stone set a large piece of chicken on Joe’s plate attempting to irritate Tokey after his childish behavior yesterday. Within seconds Big Tokey’s meaty arm shot through the air and snatched the chicken off his tray.

  “That’s not your guy, you can’t do that.” Stone said.

  Stone fumed as he set another piece on Joe’s tray.

  Big Tokey turned his attention to Stone and shot daggers at him,

  “Shut up, Bitch!” Big Tokey said.

  Then he reached over again to grab the piece of meat.

  Stone noticed Shotgun give him a slight nod and without a second though, he yanked back his arm and sent all the force he could into Tokey’s face. The crunch of Stone’s fist connecting with Tokey’s jaw was loud.

  He stumbled back in shock.

  Tokey’s surprised features melted into anger as he realized what had just happened. His eyes turned dark red and murderous as he advanced towards Stone and grabbed at him.

  “Get the fuck over here. Mother Fucker!” Big Tokey said.

  He cursed, spit spewing from his mouth.

  Stone jumped out of the way and attempted to hit him again, this time in the throat. The blow was hard, but not hard enough. Big Tokey’s obscene amount of fat absorbed the blows and fueled his anger.

  Realizing the huge mistake, he made, Stone fled to the back of the line near the carts and hid behind them. Big Tokey shoved the Food cart over on top of Stone and trapped him. He struggled to push the weight off him, but he was too weak.

  “Can’t even fight like a fucking man, fucking wimp!” Big Tokey said.

  Big Tokey knew he now had the upper hand.

  Tokey balled his fists as he got closer to Stone, his eyes flaming from fury. His heart raced as he braced himself for impact, still squirming under the carts.

  Then two bodies hurled themselves onto Tokey, slamming him to the ground with a thud.

  “Get the fuck off me,” Big Tokey said.

  He screamed and flailed under the bodies. He cursed as they grabbed his arms and yanked them behind his back.

  Stone sat up from his position just enough to see it was a guard and Shotgun who had stopped Tokey from murder.

  “Everyone get back! Nothing to see here.” The Guard said.

  The guard was shouting as he cuffed Big Tokey.

  “I need back up.” The Guard said.

  He was shouting in his walkie talkie.

  “Get off me! Fucking Son of a Bitch!” Big Tokey said.

  He yelled again as if he thought his demands would get fulfilled if he screamed louder.

  “Shut up, you're going to the hole, Tokey.” The guard said.

  Stone shrunk back, his heart now racing from his possible fate of ending up in the hole with Tokey.

  He made eye contact with Shotgun who gave Stone a light nod. The acknowledgment settled Stone’s churching stomach, though it shouldn’t have.

  Three more guards showed up to help the first guard with a fidgeting Tokey. They yelled at him to calm down unless he wanted to get beaten.

  The guards paid no attention to Stone as they dragged their victim away. The single one who stayed back was the guard who had broken up the fight. They must’ve assumed Stone was a docile inmate that wouldn’t put up much of a fight.

  The guard helped pick up the carts off Stone,

  “You’re going too.” He said.

  “I---.” Stone started.

  “Start fucking walking,” He said.

  The Guard Yanked Stone’s arms behind him and cuffed him.

  He noticed a few Blacks who lingered in the room and shot him dirty looks. Everyone knew who started the fight. In the Blacks’ eyes, it should have been only Stone in the hole while in the W
hites’ eyes, the blame landed on Tokey’s shoulders. In Stone’s eyes, he knew he should be in there right alongside Tokey. They both deserved what was coming to them.

  The guard and Shotgun had his back that day, but who knew what would be in store for Stone when Tokey and he saw each other again. A few scenarios crossed Stone’s mind, but he pushed it out of his thoughts until the dreadful day came.

  In Stone’s mind, the worst consequence of the fight was his future in the hole. But the small incident had triggered something bigger.

  A war was now brewing between the factions.

  THE HOLE

  WAIT. STONE STOPPED when he saw the inside of the cell.

  “Did I tell you to stop walking?” The Guard Said.

  The guard continued yelling and shoved Stone to the ground.

  The cold concrete slammed against his face.

  Stone didn’t have time to curse at the guard before the door flew shut and locked.

  The hole was a lonely place. Twenty-Three Hours of lock down. One hour of outside yard time in four times smaller than the other yard. Most of the time they didn’t even let you outside for the day. It wasn’t a choice for someone in the hole to make. All your rights were gone. The guards were like demons from another world. They had no souls and no empathy. Imagine an old concrete room six by six with two bunks no sheets two fifty-year-old dirty mattresses that stank like hell and one combination steal sink and toilet.

  This building housed the Japanese during World War II. They hated those people. You could see the years of blood, piss, and shit that stained the floor. The walls were wet with sewage that drained from the floor above. The metal door was solid but had two slits one for cuffing inmate’s legs and one for their wrists. You got three meals a day, but the food got thrown into the cell. Some of it ended up on the floor. It was grimy slop that a dog wouldn’t even eat, but it was all one had. They had windows however that let in a cool breeze. But they were high and small, so you could look at the unmoving color blue. The one way you could tell what time it was by that tiny window. All you could do in the room was imagine what was going on outside. Now and then you would get birds who were welcomed, visitors. Some guys even talked to them out of loneliness.

  They would put you in an unwashed yellow jumpsuit that smelled of death and gave you one t-shirt and one pair of boxers.

  “You can use that to hang yourself,” The Guard said.

  The guard threw a t-shirt at Stone.

  “Most guys rather do that.” He said.

  Stone didn’t doubt that a lot of men did that thing. The hole was a place Stone couldn’t even have imagined. Spending more than a week in there? How could a man keep his sanity? Stone sat on the thin sheets staring at the wall. He had counted every tile, every crack and every smudge he could find in the room.

  The guards would take bets on who would make it and who wouldn’t. It was a nasty, inhumane thing to do, but then again, the guards were scum.

  They would let you out to shower once a week. The Guards didn’t care if you pissed your pants, they wouldn’t let you clean yourself more than once. They would handcuff your hands behind your back and cuff your feet in chains. They shouted shower day and told you to get naked and turn around so they could cuff you. You walked in humiliation naked to the shower room.

  They would hose you off with a giant water hose, then they would throw buckets of hot soapy water onto your body not caring if it burnt you or not. The guards tried to make it uncomfortable as possible as to not let you enjoy anything in this place. They would even piss in the buckets before they tossed them on you if you caused them any trouble.

  The first-time Stone went through the experience he made the mistake of flinching away from the heat of the water.

  “Damn, Damn, that is fucking hot.” Stone said.

  “Oh! What don’t want a shower?” One guard said.

  “We’ll make sure you don’t get one next week.”

  Stone tried to explain it was because of the water, but it pissed the guard off more to a point where he shut off the hose and announced Stone was done.

  He got led back to his cell, still covered in soap. Stone put his disgusting clothes back on and lied down on his bed, writhing in his wet clothes. The next week he got skipped for a shower, despite Stone’s awkward attempts to beg.

  I need to stay positive, so these guys don’t kill me. I thought.

  Stone got up off the bunk and sat on the floor Indian style. He practiced breathing techniques he had learned years earlier. He meditated on his situation.

  I can do this. I am tough. Stone thought.

  Then his mind flashed to thoughts of Big Tokey.

  They put Big Tokey in a hole cell by himself, which was fortunate for the other souls who might have otherwise got forced to share with him. He was too big for the toilet, it was tough for him to use the restroom. Stone could hear laughter from down the halls and jokes being made about Tokey’s issue as guards passed Stone’s cell.

  “Can’t even fit on the damn toilet he’s so fat.” They would joke.

  “I’m not cleaning’ that giant pile of lard.”

  “Shut the fuck up! …Blue Pig,” Big Tokey would shout.

  But they would either pay no attention or beat on him.

  Stone felt pity for the guy as his weight was his biggest insecurity. The food was Big Tokey’s master. If he weren’t in the hole, he’d be beating up on whoever commented about his fat. Stone couldn’t imagine what he would do to a man on the outside if he heard them joking about him. They’d end up dead.

  All Big Tokey thought of when he woke up and throughout the day and at night was food. All he could focus on was how starving he was. The man needed a certain amount of food each day, and the guards were not providing enough for him. They would give him less than the others, telling him he needed to lose weight.

  The other guys who shared a cell had it rougher. The toilet was right next to the bunk, imagine what that felt like when you had to sit right next to someone you didn’t know taking a shit. And they wouldn’t give you the courtesy of moving. Stone did not have to share a cell in the hole, which was a blessing. He needed to be alone now.

  In the hole, you had access to nothing. No toilet paper, no hand soap, no toothbrush, no deodorant, no, toothpaste, no razor. The room was empty, and all you had to do with your time was fiddle your thumbs. Guys would rip part of their t-shirt and use it for toilet paper then wash it off in the sink and put it next to the toilet for next time.

  One night before lights out Stone heard a desperate voice call from across his cell.

  “Anyone there?” The man said.

  “Yeah.” Stone said.

  Stone tried to talk low but loud enough so the inmate could hear him.

  “Glad to hear someone’s voice who isn’t yelling.” The man said.

  “I agree. Why are you down here?” Stone said.

  “Stabbed a guy messing with me.” He said.

  “How long you in here for?” Stone said.

  “Been down here for four months. They won’t even tell me when I’m leaving. How about you?” He said.

  Stone tried to remember any fights that had resulted in someone being thrown in the hole the past few months but couldn’t think of any. All the scuttles he had witnessed in the past never ended that bad.

  “I got into a fight in the chow hall,” Stone said.

  He wasn’t all too interested in telling the stranger the whole scenario. What if he were a Black and knew Tokey? He’d chastise him and tell him to fuck off. But what if he were White and took pity? He found it sad how the color of the man’s skin would be the deciding factor for how he behaved towards him.

  “You been in here long? I haven’t heard a single thing from you.

  Unlike the big guy who wails all night. You're awful quiet.” He said.

  “Just trying to meditate and relax.” Stone said.

  Stone smirked at the irony.

  Stone contemplated telling the
man that Tokey was the one he got into a fight with but as far as the guy knew he couldn’t put a name to the crying man. If Stone revealed his name, the man might realize it was Tokey and get pissed at Stone if the man was Black.

  “Not long, but I try not to make any noise, so the guards don’t beat the shit out of me.” The man said.

  “Shut the hell up!” The guard said,

  “Lights out, Lights out!”

  When an inmate came out of a bid in the hole, they looked and smelled like death. They would have long beards and dirty faces. The guards hoped their appearance and rank smell would scare the other inmates into starting no problems.

  No one would speak a word to the person coming back from the hole for at least two hours. They needed time to refresh. The first place they wanted to go is the shower and Barbershop. It took days of showering five times a day to get the smell off your body. Most chose a buzz cut to get every bit of hair off their bodies exposed to the dirt in the hole.

  Now Big Tokey had to endure a few months in this hell hole. He would cry out at night like a wounded dog. Everyone in the Prison could hear and feel his pain.

  “Did you hear Tokey last night?” People would ask each other.

  Rumors of what was going on with him spread across the Prison. People took bets of how he would come out, or if he would even make it out.

  Stone kept quiet during his short time there. Hearing Big Tokey pushed him into silence. He didn’t need the guards laughing at him or any other inmate to hear his wails. Though on the inside, he felt as Tokey did.

  Tokey emerged from the hole like a docile daughter. Different. The hole does that to you it makes you want to do whatever the guards say. Only the skinny and fucked up could take it. The course would start with blind rage, then over time, it would dwindle into complete and utter hopelessness.

  They say lots of guys have died in there and Stone didn’t doubt it. What the Prison would do however to cover their tracks is to put them in an ambulance and say they died on the way to the hospital knowing full well they died in the hole a day or two before. The Prison didn’t care how mistreated the guys were. The guards thought there was justice in treating the inmates like crap.