Prisons

by Rob Edwards

  Delton scooted down in his seat to be more eye to eye with Noah. He reached over and lifted one of the headphones off his ear. “Is this your first baseball game?”

  Noah, hands flapping madly, nodded.

  “Mine too. Want me to tell you about it?”

  Noah shook his head.

  Gently, Delton leaned Noah back into the seat. The boy’s head never raised, and his brow was tightly knotted with anxiety. Delton lifted the headset off one ear slightly, and spoke quietly into it. “I know this all makes you nervous, but if you can trust me, you might enjoy this.” He pointed to the field. “See that mound of dirt out there in the middle of the field?”

  Noah didn’t move.

  “You have to look up to see it.”

  Noah quickly glanced up, and then back down again. He nodded.

  “Okay. That was good,” Delton said, trying to be encouraging. “A man is going to stand on that pile of dirt and throw a little ball as fast as he can,” Delton cupped his hand to show the size of the ball. “And another guy is going to stand back by the fence with a wooden stick and try to hit it.”

  The announcer came on the loudspeaker, welcoming everyone to the game and naming the players on both teams. Graphics blazed across the big screen at the back of the park but Noah didn’t lift his head for any of it. When the National Anthem played, everyone stood, but Noah remained seated and buried his head into Delton’s leg. Once the anthem was over, everyone applauded and cheered. Noah crouched down into his seat and began to moan.

  Delton dropped back into the seat and began to rub his back. Leaning in close, he spoke softly in Noah’s ear. “It’s okay, boy. Everything is going to be all right.”

  Noah flapped his hands, and rocked back and forth while he moaned anxiously.

  After a few moments, Delton was able to calm him down, but it was clear that Noah was not going to enjoy this outing one bit. Delton realized, there would be no teaching moment. The big thing would be that Noah managed to survive in a crowd of this size, with this much activity and noise. That would be the win for the day.

  The first three innings were relatively uneventful. Three up, three down for each team except the top of the second when the visiting team got a base hit.

  Noah remained calm during playtime. It was in between the innings where the boy had issues. After the first inning, music boomed through the stadium and the camera took shots of people dancing and projected them on the big screen at the back of the field. Noah wasn’t fazed by this. His headset kept him fairly well protected from the loud noises, and nobody near him danced.

  After the second inning it got a little wilder. A group of young workers drove a golf cart around the warning track, and shot t-shirts out of a big pneumatic gun. One of the t-shirts was headed in Noah’s direction. Two guys caught it over the boy’s head and fought for it briefly. Noah cried out, and cowered down. “Take it easy,” Delton said. The man who ended up with the t-shirt pointed it at Delton. “Relax, man.” Then he turned and held his t-shirt up. His buddies cheered.

  Delton gently straightened Noah back up, into his seat. “It’s all good, Noah. It’s over now.”

  Noah sat back, hands flapping wildly, brow furrowed and eyes staring at his own shoes. He shook his head. “Don’t like this.”

  “I understand, buddy. I’m glad you used your words and told me how you’re feeling.” Delton was trying sound upbeat and encouraging. “It won’t always be that crazy. It’s over now.” He looked up to see Judith at the end of the row. She put her hands out in a questioning gesture. He put his thumb up to let her know that everything was okay. He didn’t want to give up on it now. The boy had gone this far outside of his comfort zone; Delton wanted to see how far Noah could stretch himself.

  At the bottom of the third inning, the Pirates got two men on base, which caused a good amount of excitement. The clean-up hitter nailed the first pitch and sent it over the big screen, out of the park. The crowd jumped up screaming, and high-fiving each other. That, along with the loud sound effects and music was the breaking point for Noah. He rocked again, and he skipped the uncomfortable moaning signal, opting instead for open screaming. He hit his face with both his hands, and Delton grabbed his wrists and pulled him in tight.

  Noah screamed and writhed in his grasp, but Delton held him firmly. He glanced back at the guard behind him. “He’s going into meltdown mode. I need to get him out of here.”

  It was Johnson, the same guard who had pulled his gun the month before, so he understood what this meant now. Jumping to his feet, Johnson called to the people along the row. “Excuse us, please. We have a disabled child who needs attention immediately.”

  To Delton’s surprise, everyone stood. Lifting a struggling Noah, he tried to make his way out, but there was little room, and with Noah wiggling and screaming, maneuvering through was nearly impossible.

  He saw Judith coming down the row toward him. She raised her hands, signaling him to lift Noah up to her. Delton did as instructed and Noah started to kick in every direction.

  “Please watch yourselves,” Johnson cried out. People covered their faces, while Delton rushed him down and handed him off to Judith. He had to deal with several “What the fucks,” along the way.

  Judith took Noah with a quick, “Thanks,” and quickly whisked the screaming boy away. Noah’s screams faded with the distance.

  Looking back at Johnson, Delton wondered what his next move was. Johnson smiled, and nodded back toward his seat. “Nice job. Enjoy the rest of the game.”

  When Delton sat back down, the man who had caught the t-shirt gave him another “What the fuck,” then pointed at him and said, “Next time, leave Special Ed at home.”

  Delton looked back at Johnson, who pursed his lips and shook his head. Delton plopped down in his chair, gave the man a scowl, and avoided his stare after that. The man, apparently now more courageous after a beer after every inning, finally turned away and sat back down.

  The Pirates ended the inning, up three runs. During the intermission, the announcer gave a welcome to all of the special groups in attendance. Right after Boy Scout Troupe #403, he gave a welcome to the six inmates of Two Rivers Correctional Facility who were caring for, and escorting six special needs children in a program with Marmont State College. The crowd applauded. The drunk asshole that gave him shit earlier, looked cautiously back over his shoulder at Delton. Delton glared back at the dude, who looked away.

  The next few innings were over quickly, and Delton was thinking the game was dragging on a little long. Without Noah here to share it with, it was boring to sit in a baseball stadium by yourself and watch two teams you really couldn’t care less about. He found himself watching the back of Rick Simpson’s head—his greasy stringy, red hair, looking like copper wire, sprawling out from under his filthy University of Michigan baseball cap.

  Rick had little patience for Eddie. Anytime Eddie talked to him, Rick would wave him off. When Eddie held up the program to show him a picture, Rick would push the boy’s hand back down. He clearly did not want to have anything to do with his charge. Delton on the other hand found himself missing Noah. He had looked forward to this opportunity since the moment Dr. Fitzpatrick had brought it up. It was the first baseball game for both of them, and a chance to create a lasting memory together.

  Unlike Simpson, Delton found he liked spending time with Noah. Once they got used to each other, they had grown to know each other, accept each other, like and, even love each other. He knew Noah liked being with him, because Judith had told him that on many occasions, Noah would speak of wanting to see him while at home. What surprised Delton was that he shared those feelings. He enjoyed his time with the boy so much that he hated the weekends because he would have to wait two days to see him again.

  At the top of the eighth inning, Sadie Hanson walked over to the end of the row with a large bag of popcorn and two small sodas. She got Rick’s attention and winked at him. Then she handed the sodas to the woman sitting on the
end. They were passed on down the row to Rick, who sat one in a holder for Eddie and one for himself. The popcorn followed. When Rick got the bag he looked into it carefully, then looked up at Sadie and nodded. She gave him the thumbs up and walked away. Delton wondered what this exchange was about and he watched Rick carefully after that.

  Simpson held up the popcorn for Eddie to take some, but kept his thumb around the edge of the bag in an awkward manner. Watching this carefully, Rick never took his hand off the edge of the bag. It wasn’t until the bottom of the eighth, when a Pirates batter hit a double into left field, that Simpson made his move. When everybody stood to see if the ball would clear the fence, Simpson slid out a small bag of powder from inside the popcorn, and quickly stuffed it into his pocket. By the time the runner had made it to second base, Simpson had given the rest of the popcorn to Eddie and everybody, including the guard assigned to watch him, had missed Rick’s little maneuver.

  Delton clenched the arm rests of his seat. The more he thought about the opportunity that Simpson had, and how he wasted it, the angrier he became. Simpson only used this whole program as a way to get outside the walls of the prison, and a chance to score some drugs.

  Delton decided this farce had to end. He reached back and tapped Johnson on the knee. When the guard leaned forward Delton spoke quietly in his ear. “When we get back, you need to check Simpson. He’s got drugs on him.”

  Johnson sat back, then leaned forward again a moment later. “How do you know that?”

  “I just watched the kid’s mom sneak them to him in a bag of popcorn,” Delton said.

  Johnson leaned back. A moment later leaned back in. “His mom? Are you sure?”

  Delton said no more. Just nodded.

  Johnson patted his shoulder. “Thanks. We’ll check them both out.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  When the bus arrived back at the penitentiary, all six inmates got off. As soon as Rick Simpson’s feet touched the pavement, Officer Jones yelled, “Simpson. Come with me.”

  Rick looked over and smiled. “Why’s that?”

  “Need to talk to you for a minute.”

  Rick glanced nervously at Delton, who looked away and marched inside with the others.

  Before he entered the prison he looked back over his shoulder. Rick was being marched away in the other direction with three guards.

  Simpson didn’t show up at dinner that evening. His six redneck friends all ate quietly together without their “life of the party” stirring them up.

  “You’re kind of quiet tonight,” Hector said to Delton. “Everything go okay today?”

  Delton looked up and then back down at his bowl of wallpaper paste that they had said was macaroni and cheese. “Yeah. I mean, not actually. Noah, flipped out in the fourth inning and had to be taken out by his mother.”

  “Sorry, man,” Hector said. “Wasn’t nothin’ you did though? Right?”

  “Naw, man,” Delton said. “He just can’t do the crowd thing yet.” He pushed his bowl away, turned to Hector, leaned in and spoke quietly. “But I saw Simpson take drugs from his kid’s mom, and I told Johnson.”

  “You did what, man?”

  “I know,” Delton said.

  “Are you fucking crazy?” Hector said. “You know you don’t rat on nobody in here.”

  “Dude, I couldn’t help it,” Delton said. “These kids got nobody to fight for them—especially that kid. If his own mom don’t give a shit, then the next man has got to step up. Today, I was the next man.”

  “That kid ain’t here now to fight for you,” Hector said. “What’re you gonna do when the shitstorm comes?”

  “I’ll just have to handle it,” Delton said.

  It only took until the following morning for the shitstorm to arrive. Delton and Hector were headed into the showers when Simpson’s scratchy voice cawed behind them. “There you are, Hayes, you piece of shit.”

  Delton turned to see Simpson strolling in, followed by his band of hillbillies.

  Hector grabbed at his arm and tried to pull him. “C’mon, man. Let’s keep going.”

  “Naw, man,” Delton shook loose. “You go ahead. I’ll handle this.”

  Simpson walked up to Delton and looked him straight in the eye. “The guards and the cops found some coke on me after the baseball game. Any idea how they got wind of it?”

  Delton shrugged. “No, man. Tough luck.”

  “Tough luck, my ass.” Simpson shoved him in the chest and Delton slipped a few steps back.

  “Easy,” Hector said, and took a step forward.

  Simpson pointed at him. “You keep out of this, beaner.” Two of Simpson’s thugs walked over and stood by Hector.

  “Simpson, why you gotta be such a fucking asshole?” Delton said.

  “Oh, I’m the asshole?” Simpson said, smacking his chest with his hands. “Because of you, I’m out of the fucking Marmont program, and Eddie’s mom is now in jail for drugs. And somehow I’m the asshole.”

  “Dude, there was drugs in the popcorn,” Delton said.

  Simpson walked back up to him. “So it was you.”

  “What would have happened if Eddie would have swallowed some of those drugs? Do you ever think of shit like that?” Delton said.

  Simpson slapped his forehead. “He’s a fucking retard. Nobody would have noticed, and nobody would have cared!”

  Delton shook his head. He looked back at a man who had no grip on real life, nor how the decisions he made affected it. He only cared about how he could benefit from any given situation, everybody else be damned. “If you truly think like that, then it’s good you’re out of the program.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Simpson reached back and pulled something out from behind him. “Well, if I’m out, you’re out.”

  “Delton, watch out!” Hector yelled. He took an elbow to the side of his head and fell hard on the cement floor of the shower.

  Simpson swung wildly, but Delton stepped back and a flash of metal whisked by his neck. Simpson bent his knees, as if he were ready to pounce. The piece of metal he waved back and forth appeared to be the back end of a cafeteria spoon, filed down to a sharp edge. He thrust it twice, and Delton dodged easily each time. The third thrust went deep into Delton’s right shoulder. Blood poured out and Delton clutched at it, gritting his teeth against the pain.

  “That hurt, Hayes?” Simpson and his thugs laughed. Simpson swung again.

  Delton threw his right hand up instinctively, to block the blow, and the blade sliced through his palm. Delton cried out in pain.

  His cry was met with more laughter. “Now you’re sounding like that fine little sister of yours,” Simpson said.

  Delton could take being laughed at all day. He could even take being stabbed and slashed. But hearing this piece of shit even refer to his sister was too much. It was over now. Blood ran freely out of Delton’s shoulder, down his arm and out his hand. When Rick swung again, Delton flicked his hand, sending a spray of blood across Simpson’s face.

  Simpson gagged, spit, and wiped at his face.

  This was the opening Delton needed, he cocked his left arm back and brought his fist crashing against Simpson’s jaw.

  Simpson stumbled back, but Delton didn’t slow. He followed with his bleeding right hand. The connection sent a spray of blood across the face of three of Simpson’s allies. They all turned away and wiped their sleeves across their faces. They missed what came next.

  Rick was clearly rocked by the hits and he turned to get away. Delton charged, and tackled him to the ground. Simpson cried out quickly and then went limp. Delton stood and stepped back. Simpson lay there face down, unmoving, on the wet cement floor of the shower.

  All was silent except for the running water in the next room. Delton assumed he’d knocked the piece of shit out when his head hit the floor. Perhaps a concussion would do the hayseed some good. Using his foot, he kicked Simpson over, only to find a large patch of wet blood soaking the man’s shirt. A red puddle continued to grow around h
im. The spoon end of the makeshift knife was sticking out from under the left ribcage.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “So he had to leave the game early. Didn’t you, buddy?” Judith said, patting her son on the back.

  Noah nodded. “Yeah,” he said, without looking up, and continued to play a matching game on Darlene’s smartphone.

  Judith, Noah, and Darlene were sitting around their father’s bed at Pleasant Oaks. When Noah spoke, the weary old man let his tired eyes fall on the boy, and he smiled. Then he looked up at Judith with a little twinkle.

  Judith chuckled. “I know,” she said smiling and rolling her eyes at the ceiling. “Father knows best. You came through again.”

  Their father had been back to the retirement home for a few weeks now. He was given permission to move around the facility but mainly kept to his room. Though he could speak, his words came out sluggishly and he was embarrassed by how he sounded, so he rarely spoke at all anymore. He could walk with a walker but it took great concentration, and by the time he reached his destination, he was too tired to enjoy himself. A few times Lee Dunham had gotten him out to play chess, but that was all that could entice him anymore.

  “Did Judith tell you she has a boyfriend?” Darlene said.

  Their father looked back at Judith with his eyebrows raised.

  “Not a boyfriend.” She forced a smile and glared at Darlene with her eyes. “Just a date.”

  “Sister, we’re up to three dates now,” Darlene said, hands on her hips. “That constitutes a relationship of some sort.”

  Judith looked over at her dad who smiled back at her. “He’s a very nice man, Dad. And he treats me well.” She nodded her head at Darlene. “He works with Jim. He hasn’t met Noah yet, but he’s familiar with autism so that’s going to happen pretty soon.” Judith leaned forward and rubbed her father’s arm. “Then, I’d like to bring him in to meet you. I’d like to get my father’s approval before I get serious with a guy.”