by White, Walt
The typical boom of “Count, Count," had cut the air earlier on in the morning. It was the first count of the day. The sexy Black lady was on duty again, but she came with another officer that looked like a superior, his uniform showed that he was one. His presence did nothing to stop the guys from gawking and making eyes at the female officer. In his brash voice, he gave the bad news of Head Inspection and gave instructions. The day took on sourness afterward as they all prepared for the doom.
Each faction met and discussed on how to stay on top of the game. Streets, corners, and neighborhoods had to appear pristine. The visit was in three days. It was a full inspection. The Prison officials got entitled to knowing when it would take place but the information did not reach them on time. One week was a short period to prepare let alone three days.
Also observed were the relationships between the officers and the Prisoners. He doubted if they checked the Hole. Nothing got left untouched, but the preparation was not even as intense as this. It was more an inspection of the facility than the occupants.
It was the first-time Stone would witness such and the last too; his time was almost up. He could see changes already effected. Equipment that did not function received a touch of the magic wand and had begun working. Cleaners were everywhere scrubbing away like their lives depended on it. It did in a way. Even the superiors got up from the comfortable chairs and came down to do supervision. The guys from the administrative building where the cadre men worked were all over the place. Orders upon orders got shouted into the speaker. A slight amount of force got implemented although no form of abuse took place. Each staff member of the Prison was nervous. The tension was almost tangible enough to hold and cup.
Those at the receiving end were the inmates. They got pushed beyond their limits and enduring point. The old Prisoners suffered more as some got jobs they could not handle on good days. An incident happened that placed everyone on alert and almost caused a quarrel between the Whites and Mexicans. On the outside, the incident would not have even caused any lifting of the brow but this was the Prison, and some things got people "aggravated" like they liked to call it.
The two inmates involved got assigned toilet duties. Johnny got the order from the officer who oversaw what he was doing to get his bottle of cleaner and finish cleaning the stalls. He headed to the bathroom. On getting there, Skitz was cleaning a stall with Johnny’s bottle. Johnny was in no mood to patronize a Mexican. He snatched his container from Skitz’s hand. Both had almost the same muscle body build; none could get said to have the upper hand. Johnny did not waste time and "took flight." Skitz was ready for trouble since he started it and responded in like manner.
"Knock it off!"
The guard on duty said with no positive effect.
He called for backup. Soon, other guards came around and separated the guys. Off to the hole with them, it was zero tolerance. They would stay in the hole three days and get presented for inspection. They would return to complete their punishment later. Others in the Hole would, however, remain there. They were not presentable, and the head guy had no time to check the damn place anyway.
Although it happened fast, tempers were already flying among other Prisoners as everyone experienced tension in some form. More guards got deployed to keep inmates from trying to pry out one another's throat. It had nothing to do with the Blacks, but they prepared in case it did. You could not afford to go slack or nonchalant in the Prison. You must get involved even if it is indirect. Shotgun and Javil controlled their factions even though they eyed each other. Stone did well to stay out of trouble at his end.
The three days were over and the expected day came. Guards and officers patrolled the entire place. The inmates formed their lines like they would do for counts. They had their pressed uniforms on. For the one day, everyone was on notice. If the Head guy did not like your look, you are a goner. If he did not see you pressed, the same was your fate. The sun overhead bore down on them. Shit! All these shows were for just one person. The picture created was that of boarding high school boys in their uniforms waiting for the address by their principal. Murmurs ran through the lines, but no one dared to say anything.
Some cleaners and supervisors were inside checking out the rooms and the jobs the inmates had done. The jobs of the staff depended on whatever the head guy saw. People got fired, wrote up, scolded, you name it, and it happened. They would make sure every bed got made, bunk areas where cleaned up and smelled sweet. All equipment was running; the magic wand was still functioning. What will happen after the inspection, no one could tell?
When the head guy made it down, all the administration acted like saints. He must know it was all a display put up for his enjoyment. Some other top officials followed him would have never shown up before but were supposed to be working at the facility. It was a big fake show for the dude.
The man was in his full military like garb. It was a Black uniform that looked like something you would see on an army general. The stars and decoration on his shirt spoke volumes of his high position and years of experience. He carried a big Black cane and wore White gloves like an old lady even though his body stance and disposition showed less of that. He never took off his hat. The joke was that he could not take it off because everyone would see his horns.
He was a short Black man and looked stern. His voice was intense, metallic and robust. His rich baritone needed no boost by the microphone. He got offered one, but he turned it down, a military man to the bones. He talked and sounded like a drill sergeant, giving orders in crisp-like short sentences. He went through the lines of two hundred men, taking the pain to check out each man. He was at the facility for an hour, no more no less but the hour was the longest they ever spent.
Although he had paid to get his clothes pressed and his shoes shined, Stone felt self-conscious like every other inmate. His heart almost stopped beating for his turn to go under the lens. The head guy stopped and stared at him. He got asked to tuck his uniform in and some other things he considered odd. He must have passed the inspection as the guy gave him a final once-over and moved over to the next person.
The feeling was with him as with other inmates that had never gone through the rigors before. Others that had stayed in Prison long enough such as Shotgun, Rhino, Big Tokey among others appeared calm. It was the preparation that grated on their nerves and not the actual inspection itself.
After going through the rigors of checking the two hundred men, he gave a final short speech. It did not appear like he was a man of many words. About five of the inmates got separated and dragged away. Decisions will get made and judgment discharged; the guards took them to the hole. The Officials did not forgive such offense of putting their jobs at risk.
It was time for the head guy and his entourage to take their leave. Inmates and guards could now breathe a sigh of relief. The day lived up to its acclaimed fame. All inmates trotted back to their bunks, grateful to have passed through unscathed.
BLOOD
INSPECTION frustrations never ended with the day; their effects lasted long and lingered. Everyone gets tense one way or the other from the aftermath. The three factions were not on the best of terms. After the head guy had left, malice and vengeance filled every nook and cranny. Contemptuous looks got exchanged between individuals and faction leaders. The best thing was to keep low and quiet now. Any tiny disagreement could lead to an uproar. The guards patrolled the facility with frayed nerves and distraught expressions.
Since Stone returned from the hole, staying away from Big Tokey had been necessary for survival. Although a renewed thinner Big Tokey returned from that horrible place, Stone could not be so sure since he was acting strangely. He also knew Javil the head of the Black Faction had it in for him. He got an unmixed look of hatred from him. Only his association with Rhino and the faction kept him safe. Shotgun kept his promise; they stood behind him always. However, there was no telling what could happen.
Javil was on edge and grew dangerous. Recently,
he got the message that his daughter died. He was on steroids too, making his hormones unstable. There were no visitations and inmates could not make calls to the outside. There were speculations made about the source of the leak, but no one was sure.
The Prisoners dealt with their grief in different ways. Some went into isolation, shutting out everyone. Others got angry, violent and sought blood. Javil was a man on the thirst for blood. Javil does not care about doing more time he just wants to inflict blood and pain. There was no telling what he would do.
He had his eye on Stone. He blamed him for whatever happened to Big Tokey and got him marked out. In his view, he changed the big man. His detention in the hole would not have taken place if Stone did not make the first move. The hole stripped Big Tokey of his dignity and left him a weakling, begging Miss Angie for a transfer. As the head of the faction to which he belonged, his sense of duty asked for justice.
Stone was back to his routine, on the track again feeling grateful to have the opportunity of stretching his legs again. He came out with Z this time around. At the last second of persuading Rhino to join him, Rhino remembered he had something to do. It had to do with his burritos. He knew it was all an act; he was not a runner anyway.
Big guys like Rhino are not good long-distance runners. Since he did not feel like going alone, he convinced Z to go with him. Now on the track, he was on his fourth lap. His plan was to do two miles and see how his body took it before trying another two to make four miles. His companion was lying down like a pack of waste. Stone did the remaining two miles before settling down beside him. Taking a gulp from the bottle of water he had with him.
"Are you okay? What’s making you puss out today," Stone said.
Z was gasping for breath.
"Yeah man, I am OK just down today," Z said.
Although he looked anything but normal. He did not try to help him anyway; he knew Z would not take to such gestures.
"My legs hurt like hell today and my socks have holes in them," Z said.
He got irritated, and Stone grew tense. Something was wrong, but he would not pursue it. Z was tight lipped and never let on about anything.
“Let’s go to the laundry and persuade Shorty to give us both two new socks.” Stone said.
“OK sounds cool,” Z said.
So, they headed toward the laundry.
As they were going up the ramp for the Laundry, Javil was coming from the other side. The mere sight of him now sends shivers down Stone’s spine. The best action was to project innocence and avoid trouble. It appeared Javil was on a mission as he planted himself on their path.
"Where are you two shitheads headed?" He said.
He would not even pretend; Javil was a well-muscled man and Stone did not think Z was in the best shape to fight. His eyes scanned their environment, but it appeared there was no help in sight. Some inmates were around, but there was no sign of a guard. Z was the one Javil was after today. It was a message for Stone.
"Here is what happens to Desert Rats,"
“Your next Sharp.” Javil Said.
It all happened swiftly. The one thing that got registered on his mind was the wicked expression that accompanied the evil laugh. The next thing he knew was that Z slumped in his hands. Javil was nowhere in sight having done what he intended to do. He did not look back to see if it succeeded. Z lay in his hands spurting blood from the mouth.
A truck pulled up with four Prison guards making a delivery to the laundry.
"Get out of here, Hurry!" Z said
Z was in an urge, gripping him to emphasize his point.
The effort resulted in more blood from his mouth. The wound created by whatever weapon Javil used to stab him became red. Weapons got made in Prison, the reason for the intense surveillance by guards carried out. Inmates made the effort of carving out shanks from mops; All they needed to do it was determination, enough doses of hatred, bitterness, malice, and motivation.
Feeling like a betrayer for leaving one who laid his life for him but knowing he had to do it, he hightailed it out of the area. Stone knew the guards would arrest him for the situation and ask questions later. Soon, guards surrounded Z and lifted him. They carried him out in an effort to save him. We all watched as Z got put into a Prison truck and whisked away.
All the inmates got gathered soon into the hall. The administrators came in, and interrogations started. Z got taken to the Hospital. No information would get given out. Interrogations were rigorous, but at the end, no one confessed to the attack.
The Camp got put in lock down mode until further notice. It was a full lockdown, and everyone was on edge. A lockdown meant getting confined to the dorm for as long as the administrators deemed fit, the minimum being twenty-four hours. There was nothing like recreation, exercise, religious activities, school, hustle or any other form of activity for the inmates. Not being able to go outside, or engage in any activity places everybody on edge.
The set of people that could work was the critical workers. These were those whose functions were essential to the daily and smooth running of the Prison. During these times, the Prison workers took up some of the duties if they got handled by the inmates beforehand. Others that could not get substituted got left; the Prisoners suffered the shortage.
They had no choice but to cope with such situations. The effects of lock down were manifold. The most prominent one was there was nothing to take off the minds of the men from whatever bugged them. Their demons came in full force now since there is nothing to occupy the minds. The idle thinking was good for man, but when it applies to the Prison, it was a quick death sentence. They also realized of the hopelessness and bleakness of their situation. Each day was like the rest. You begin to see your life as a waste.
The one person Stone could turn to was Shotgun who got enraged. Shotgun was ready to fight. Although he got news of the impending release from the Prison. Stone did not understand what he did to get inside the Camp, but he heard he has done fourteen years and is ready to go home to his wife and son.
Shotgun, thinking more of his own situation, felt responsible for Stone even though Z was not one of them. Factions operated like that. At the snap of his finger, the rest would rise on his behalf. Shotgun knew Stone was next on Javil’s agenda. Things just happened that way here, and Shotgun knew the language of Prison Hatred. Shotgun had survived in the hardest areas you could put a man in Federal Prison.
The Blacks and the Whites often had more conflicts than the rest. Thus, a significant gulf existed between the two groups. It was not Rooster alone that was in a rage. Rooster had it out for Javil and wanted to kill him right away. The war between the Whites and Blacks was inevitable. Stone was not sure he wanted a fight. Z would not have wanted such a thing to happen, anyway. He was a peaceful man.
The Mexican crew knew something would go down. The tension in the air was palpable. It was worse than whatever happened during inspection; that was a child's play in retrospect. They want nothing to do with whatever was coming up; the plan is to stay neutral. It would be impossible because Rhino is now good friends with Stone. He was the one that could stand with and talk with him in the whole facility. He got expected to show allegiance, and his faction will take a standing with him.
Some others tried to make peace. Bruno tried talking peace to those who showed enough patience to listen to him. Old man Q was doing the same thing; preaching peace to the rest of the inmates. Both men were Mexicans and respected for their ages and not their race. No one listened to them; they could say whatever they liked. All the guards and administrators
were nervous and on tethered ends. During it all, what Skitz could think about was his own entertainment. To him, the slogan was: let the fun begin! What more gets expected from an entertainer?
He lived his life like that.
UNDERGROUND
THIRTEEN MONTHS’ time served had passed for Stone. The lockdown got lifted. Tension built up, and any small mistake resulted in a big fight. Guards behaved harsher,
not giving a damn. Meaner correctional methods got handed out to offenders.
Stone did not forget Z; he could never achieve such arduous task even if he tried. At first, his empty bed space reminded him of his absence. Things like that did not remain for long either. Soon, the bunk got assigned to a new inmate. It reminded him more of his loyal friend. If he felt any hatred, it was at Javil who took him away. There was no form of remorse from him. Z shows the ultimate sacrifice by giving his life for a friend. He missed him more on the running track. No more Z to talk with, not that they were chatty. The man kept to himself most of the time. Aside from all the emotions of kindness, which rose to the surface, there was another prominent one he felt. Guilt ate him from within his heart.
He remembers the last time on the track, just before the unfortunate incidence happened. Something had gone wrong with his friend, but he had been too impatient to find out what it was. What made it worse was that he never got around lending him a shoulder when the need was there. The wife got notified before everyone else; they were the most important ones. The outside world cared less, to them, it was another nuisance gone.
Shotgun and Rooster had a watch set upon Javil. It was not because they liked Z or were fond of him; it was an act of respect to Stone. By the administrator, every weak link got strengthened. All "bugs" got removed and replaced. They could not afford to put their staff at risk since the murderer remained unknown; only some inmates knew what went down.