AJ Mirag - Clippings

by Clippings (lit)

  “Please go on.”

  “This disciplining is achieved by the imposition of rigid spaces, spaces that don't allow new forms of appropriation.”

  The Professor nodded. “Every space is assigned a predetermined plan of activities.”

  “Exactly. The same happens with the time attributions. These rigid, absurd schedules imposed on us have determined functions, and force us to be in determined places at determined times.

  Everything follows a control strategy.”

  “And can you figure out why this has to be as it is?” asked the Professor.

  “They want to destroy every possibility of individual action. The lack of privacy, or to put it better, the elimination of the possibility of privacy is an important factor.” Daniel tried not to forget to mention any detail. “The imposition of spatial obstacles is another factor. The same for the time control, and the constant vigilance. The prisoner is submitted to a completely artificial lifestyle.”

  “Don't you think you’re seeing just one side of the coin?” asked the Professor.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You haven't mentioned the resistance put up by the prisoners.

  Day by day, the prisoners fight against those restrictions in many different ways,” argued the Professor.

  Daniel drained his cup of coffee. “Oh, I thought about that, too:

  the prisoners' informal organization. From what I've read, in every prison the prisoners create this kind of informal organization and establish parallel rules for living in community. Those rules may be of interest to the prisons' administrations, but many times they are opposed to the administration's interests. It's a rich, complex process.”

  “Very well observed,” commented the Professor. “You can see this informal resistance in action in every detail of the routines we establish here. For instance, the Fuck-in-Peace we use to recover privacy in our shacks, the clippings we make to introduce variations in our daily food, the bribes we give the officials to have them do small favors that go against the administration rules, and even the obedience to moral and customary rules that differ a lot from those that the administration would like to impose.”

  “Those internal, informal rules are allowed because the administrators want to avoid trouble, and the easiest way to do that is to let the prisoners' leadership control the prisoners,” replied Daniel.

  The Professor stared at Daniel silently for a few moments before saying, “You're describing perfectly our socio-political system.” The Professor looked genuinely impressed. “Now, can you tell me where I stand in the system you described?”

  Daniel frowned. “I've been burning my neurons up trying to figure this out. One day Zelão told me...”

  “Zelão is that bank robber from the second floor, right? Where have you met him?”

  “We're in the same weightlifting class,” explained Daniel.

  “Oh, right.”

  “He said robbers shouldn't hang around with drug dealers, because drug dealers are friends with the cops. I think he has a point.”

  “Yes, he has a point, but that is a very limited way of seeing things,” said the Professor.

  “Oh, I thought you might say something like that.”

  “The division established by Zelão is outdated, obsolete. The modern networks of power have many branches and are very complex. The various centers of power differ a lot in their purposes and procedures...”

  Daniel felt thrilled. “I've been talking to many prisoners...including some leaders, especially among the Cleaners...and I think you're the only one who understands that clearly. Do you think I'd be exaggerating if I said you're trying to create a post-modern informal network?”

  The Professor laughed. “Not at all, you're not exaggerating.

  However...you are seeing things from a socio-political point-of-view.

  It's natural, because that is the area you are most interested in. But I have psychological concerns, too.”

  The Professor had told him that before, but Daniel hadn't thought about that aspect. “Could you detail this further?”

  The Professor dwelled on the question for a few seconds before saying, “I try to put different people together to produce new interactions. There is a socio-political aspect to it, but I also do that because I think people need to do new things, create new paths. For instance, when I assign Mephisto a task, I don't have just the goals of our organization in mind. I have also in mind that Mephisto needs to be challenged, needs to get away from the routine. Today, for example, I sent him to Block Five to talk with their leadership. It's a very important mission, not only to us, but to the administration. The administrators trust us and know that we too are interested in keeping the Detention House in order. But when I decided to assign this task to Mephisto, I had also in mind that such a mission might be good for him, in many ways: it might strengthen his leadership, make him more confident and give him new perspectives.”

  “Wow, I never thought you were so deeply into those things,”

  said Daniel, impressed.

  “Sometimes I go as far as to choose random tasks just to force both myself and Mephisto not to cling to a too rigid, mechanical routine. I try to do the same thing to other people with whom I talk.”

  The Professor looked at Daniel fixedly. “I try to do the same thing to you, too.”

  “Oh, I think I know what you mean. You and Mephisto have tried to give me opportunities to learn, to understand the prison world and question what's around me, but in a, let's say, monitored way. Monitored and safe.”

  “And it's working fine, isn't it, Mephisto?” asked the Professor, looking at somewhere behind Daniel.

  Daniel turned around and saw Mephisto. How long had he been there, listening to their conversation?

  “You two spend the afternoons in this psychosocial masturbation?” asked Mephisto, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

  “Not always,” said Daniel. “Sometimes we just read in silence.”

  “You two are too brainy. You live in a dream world,” said Mephisto, approaching Daniel and resting his hand on his shoulder.

  “Don't pay attention to him, Daniel,” said the Professor. “When it comes to political articulation, I'm nothing compared to Mephisto.

  He's insuperable. Yet, he's absolutely intuitive.”

  “I didn't learn from books, like you. I learned the hard way:

  living in the real world,” said Mephisto. “Lucifer, we may talk about the practical results of my mission tomorrow. As for the psychological results, the benefits are ambiguous. Block Five is in a process of complete deterioration. Compared to theirs, our block is paradise. I don't know if that makes me feel better or worse. But enough of prattling, it's time for the afternoon counting. Let's go back to our shack, brat.”

  _________

  At night, in bed, Mephisto spread some cream on his hand and started massaging the area between Daniel's buttocks with his forefinger. Between kisses and caresses, the finger slowly slipped inside him. Daniel felt a little discomfort, but was also very curious about it.

  “Does it hurt?” asked Mephisto, focused on his movements, going deeper and deeper.

  “No. It just feels...weird.”

  “Do you want me to stop?”

  “No, it's not bad.”

  Mephisto curled his finger slightly and a jolt of pleasure hit Daniel.

  “Aaaaaah! Vlado, what have you...? What was that?” Daniel's cock throbbed and all that Daniel could think was that he wanted more of that.

  Mephisto laughed. “We've found your G-spot.”

  Mephisto repeated the movement, and Daniel saw stars.

  Mercilessly Mephisto curled his finger again, and Daniel's body arched up off the bed, waves of pleasure going through him until bliss filled him completely.

  When Daniel returned to earth, he gazed at Mephisto. “So this is how...?”

  “You'd like to know if that's what a passive guy feels when he comes? From the way you reacted, you risk
liking the experience too much. But it's not everyone who's that lucky.”

  “Would you like to...?” mumbled Daniel, feeling shy and awkward.

  “Would you like me to?” asked Mephisto, surprised.

  “I think I'd like to try it.”

  “Daniel...” Mephisto's voice was husky with emotion. “We'll have to wait a few days. Some months ago, Dr. Lopes had everyone in the block tested for HIV. My test result was negative, but the doctor advised me to have another test in six months, just to be sure.

  I've always used condoms since I came to jail. There's no other option, because almost all the whores are HIV carriers. Still I think I should take the test again before, you know... It's already been six months since I had the test. I haven't taken it again because... I didn't think you'd want to...”

  “It's okay. But can't we do it if you use a condom?”

  “I don't want to hurt you. You're a virgin.”

  “Oh...” Daniel felt his face grow hot. It was weird, to think that he was a virgin...again. “Okay.”

  Mephisto kissed him slowly, pulling him against his body, and then whispered, “Unless you want to reverse the positions.”

  Daniel widened his eyes. He knew how hard it was for Mephisto to even think about that possibility. “But you're not a bottom.”

  “Neither are you. You're not even gay,” added Mephisto.

  “If you never bottomed, I don't want to hurt you either,” stated Daniel.

  “Oh, I bottomed a few times. It's not my favorite position, though. And because sexual relations in prison are usually power relations, it's natural that I didn't want to even think about it. But, with you, it's different.”

  Mephisto knew how to make Daniel feel special and leave him speechless. “You... You're amazing,” Daniel managed to say when he could find his voice again. “But it's not fair. Let's take the test, we both, and when we have the results, if everything's fine, we'll do it.”

  “Have you ever had unprotected sex?”

  “With my girlfriend, last year. Two or three times. You know how things are,” said Daniel.

  “Oh, I know how it is to be a teen. When I left my parents'

  home, I moved into my lover's place...”

  “Was he a drug dealer?”

  “He was. But the problem was that, two years later, I found out that he had AIDS. He didn't know it, either. No one knew about the disease back then.”

  Daniel widened his eyes. “Didn't you catch it?”

  “I didn't. I was lucky. More lucky than wise.”

  “It must have been horrible.”

  “I took care of him for more than six months, until he died. He grew weaker day by day... He slowly faded away.” Mephisto swallowed hard. “I don't want to talk about it. It was really horrible.”

  “I'm sorry.”

  “I'm sorry, too. I spoiled the mood, didn't I? Dan... Come here and kiss me.”

  _________

  When Daniel went to the Infirmary and asked to be tested for HIV, Dr. Lopes looked at him with surprise, and then disappointment. “I thought you would be spared.”

  It took Daniel some time to understand what he meant. And when he understood it, it took him even more time to decide what to say. “It's not what you're thinking.”

  “Really? Mephisto came here yesterday, asking to be tested.

  Today, it's you. I've been working here for many years, Daniel, and I'm not naïve.”

  “I'm not denying I have a relationship with him. But it's consensual, and I don't work for him.”

  Dr. Lopes shook his head, incredulous. “I thought I could trust him.”

  “It's true, doctor. He's the one who usually cooks, and we share the housework. He works much harder than I do.”

  “You're not even a homosexual,” protested the doctor. “That shouldn't have happened to you.”

  “Well, I have already told you it's consensual, but if you don't believe me, there's nothing I can do,” said Daniel, resentful.

  “I can get you transferred to another block, if you want it.”

  “But I like being where I am right now. I'm very thankful to you for putting me there.”

  The doctor took a deep breath. “Very well. Let's do the test, then. At least you’re taking precautions.”

  9. The Invasion

  One night Daniel woke up to ghastly screams. Confused, he noticed that Mephisto was awake too, on his side on the bed. “What's happening?”

  Mephisto was tense, his breath uneven. “It's Shadow. I don't know if you know that he's a crack dealer...”

  “No, I didn't know that.”

  “He is. And a boy from the third floor got addicted and can't pay his debts.”

  “And so what?”

  “In cases like that, as you have probably noticed, the debtor is usually finished off. But Shadow offered him...an alternative.”

  A shiver ran down Daniel's spine when he understood what the alternative was. “Ah. He took the boy as his chicken.”

  “Yes.”

  Now that Daniel knew Mephisto and life in prison better, he had some idea of how Mephisto felt, of the contradictions that were probably tearing up his soul. Mephisto, in spite of his authoritarian manner, was a good man.

  “Life sucks,” said Daniel, embracing his companion.

  _________

  Every time his father or his lawyer, Mr. Fagundes, visited him, Daniel asked about his writ of habeas corpus, and the answer was always the same: no one could tell when the trial might take place.

  Daniel had been in prison for almost two months, and he was getting tired of waiting.

  One morning a young man from the fourth floor, Giba, was found dead in one of the galleries, with a cocaine syringe beside his corpse on the floor. Mephisto was troubled and angry, for he was sure Giba wasn't a coke addict. Daniel heard rumors in the corridors that Giba had arrived in the Detention House eight months ago and since then he had been waiting for the writ of habeas corpus to be heard.

  Despair took hold of Daniel. For the first time, he thought he might never be able to get out of prison.

  It was an ironic coincidence that just when Daniel was feeling most discouraged, the Oldie called him aside at the end of one of his weightlifting classes and waited until everyone else had left the classroom to say, in a casual tone, “We're ready to bust out in a few days. If you want in, tell me now.”

  Daniel widened his eyes. “Er... Can't you give me any details?”

  “No way. It's a take-it-or-leave-it thing.”

  “What about Mephisto? Can he be included, too?”

  The Oldie snorted. “He doesn't want to even talk about it.”

  “Can I talk to him first?” asked Daniel.

  “Eh, I don't like the sound of this, but it's okay, he already knows. But don't talk to anyone else. I'll wait for your answer until tomorrow. Carrion, my cellie, is in too. Come to my shack tomorrow after lunch, if you decide to join.”

  “Okay.”

  Mephisto was waiting for him at the classroom door, looking impatient and suspicious. “What did the Oldie want with you?”

  “I'll tell you in the shack.”

  When they entered the shack, Daniel snapped, “The Oldie invited me to escape with a bunch of guys.”

  Mephisto paled immediately. “You didn't accept it, did you?”

  “Well, I... Why?”

  “Did you accept it or not?” insisted Mephisto.

  “I told him I was going to think about it.”

  “And now you're going to say ‘No.’”

  Daniel felt blood boiling in his veins. “Well, it's up to me to decide. I don't know if you understand that I'm the one who decides about my life, not you.”

  “Except when you're about to make a big mistake. Just think, brat. Your family is well-off; you're an intelligent young man, a college student. There is no evidence against you; you have been framed. You won't stay here too long. But if you're caught in an escape attempt, you're screwed for good.” />
  Daniel knew he was right, but didn't want to admit it. “You keep repeating that, but I'm still here. The judge has simply left my writ of habeas corpus sitting in his drawer and no one can do anything about it.” Daniel was exasperated. “What about you? What if you have to stay seven years in this hell?”

  “This problem is mine alone. I won't get involved in an escape adventure. Even if the escape is successful, I don't have anything to do out there. I don't have any qualifications. The only 'job' I ever had was as a pusher. Running away would only complicate my life.”

  Daniel leaned on the set of bunk beds, downcast. Why was life so complicated? Mephisto looked hurt. But it wasn't because of Mephisto that Daniel wanted to leave. On the contrary. What Daniel wanted was to leave with Mephisto.

  Daniel didn't know what to say, so he walked out and went to talk to the Professor in his shack.

  “Oh, so you heard about that,” said the Professor when Daniel mentioned the Oldie's invitation.

  “You already knew about the Oldie's plans?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what's your opinion?”

  “You aren't thinking about escaping, are you?” asked the Professor. “Oh, Daniel...don't even think about it.”

  “But what chances do I have, if I stay?”

  “You are going through a phase we all go through in prison. You have finally realized you won't leave this place tomorrow or next week. I've been there. I freaked out completely.”

  “Right, I know you're a damn good shrink, but what can I do?”

  snapped Daniel.

  “Do you think I have all the answers? I'm sorry, my friend, but many times I feel as lost as you are now. I can only advise you to calm down and be patient.”

  Daniel sighed and didn't say anything. The Professor didn't take his eyes off him.

  “It's a shame that we're going to lose the Oldie. I'll miss him, but there's nothing I can do. It's in his nature,” said the Professor, typing something on his laptop and then turning the screen to Daniel.

  “Here's the Oldie.”

  Daniel saw the drawing of a sharklike fish and read:

  “Hierochimaera fugax: A cartilaginous fish with powerful fins and impressive pulmonary capacity. The species has conserved the same basic characteristics for more than 150 million years. When imprisoned, he obsessively seeks to regain freedom. It is not so much that he cannot adapt to life in captivity; it's more that his life is senseless without the prospect of escaping.”