by Buda, Chuck
The Warden stood and rounded his desk. He opened a small refrigerator which sat along the far wall. It was filled with bottles of water and a few yogurts. He liked to snack on yogurt rather than using the vending machines downstairs. The Warden preferred his fitness to the aging creep that he found in some of his men. Like Muncie. He recalled when he hired Muncie years ago. The man was lean and nasty. Muncie could be characterized as “gung ho” if he were in the military. Lately, the man resembled a marshmallow. The nastiness was ever-present. But the lean musculature had devolved into a slovenly load which spilled over his belt. The Warden removed a water bottle and took a sip.
He realized the refreshing beverage would be a hot commodity as soon as everyone within the prison walls learned the new rules. Warden Gorgon took a bigger swig and returned to his desk. There was so much to do and he had no idea how much time was left.
Chapter 6
“8-Ball ain’t smoking reefer in here.” Jack rubbed his sides as he sat on the lower bunk. The pain from Muncie’s beating still fresh.
Swede stared at him from his own bunk. Then he looked up as Melvin’s crew entered the room.
“When you gonna learn to shut your cracker ass, Jack?” Melvin’s tone was serious but a wide grin stretched across his face.
“I figure when I learn to dunk a basketball then I can keep my mouth shut.”
“That’s fucked up, man.” Frenchie strutted over to the mirror like a peacock to look himself over.
Melvin chuckled. “Crazy ass, muthafucka, that Muncie.”
Jack winced as he stood up. “Well, Swede ate some of his donuts so he’s pissed off.” Swede rolled his eyes and stretched out on his bunk. “Muncie will get his someday.”
“Yeah, his piece of yo ass.” Melvin pointed at Jack.
“I’d like a piece of that ass.” Frenchie fussed with his hair in the mirror without turning around.
Jack chose to ignore Frenchie’s comment. “So, whose was it?”
Melvin shrugged.
“Nobody in here smokin’, cuz.” Joker postured as if he were firing up a joint himself. “If they was, I’d know it.” He licked his fingers and rubbed them down his eyebrows.
“I thought you were a crackhead, Joker?” Melvin spun around as if Joker’s bravado was misguided.
“Crackheads gotta start somewhere, bro.”
Jack and Melvin exchanged looks that indicated they would leave it alone. Joker was crazy, and neither man needed to get him amped up right now.
“Sup with two crackdowns in a day?” Melvin posed the question to Jack but the whole room had thoughts.
“Man, Muncie’s trippin’.”
“Muthafucka always be trippin’.”
Jack shook his head. “No. Something is different.”
“Whattaya mean, Jack?” Melvin followed Jack across the small room.
Jack tried to choose his words. He wasn’t sure he could express his feelings adequately with words. It was more of his sixth sense picking up on vibes.
“It was more personal this time.”
Melvin put a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “It’s always personal with you, Jack. That cracker hate yo ass.”
“I can’t explain it. Usually we do our little dance. And then we part ways. But this time it was for keeps.”
Joker laughed. “Yeah, he keep droppin’ drugs in our room so he can beat on some darkies.”
Frenchie sighed out loud. “Honey, didn’t your momma ever tell you that YOU are a darkie too?” He sauntered away from the mirror with an extra wiggle of his ass. Joker laughed again.
“Get outta here. You idiots are giving me a headache today.” Melvin lost his cool, which was rare. Frenchie snapped his fingers and shook his neck back and forth as he waltzed out of the room. Joker followed Frenchie while he continued to giggle to himself. Melvin raised his eyebrows at Swede.
“What?”
“Get your honky ass outta here too.” Melvin pointed at Swede.
“This is my room, asshole.” Swede swung his legs off the bunk and towered over Melvin with intimidation. Jack rested a hand on Swede’s chest.
“It’s all right. Just give us a few minutes, will ya?” He searched Swede’s eyes. The huge man was breathing fire through his nostrils, ready to pounce on Melvin. “Come on.”
“Yeah, you gonna beat an old man?” Melvin acted tougher once Jack was protecting him.
Swede reluctantly left the room, but not before elbowing Melvin on his way out. Melvin lost his balance and used Jack’s bunk to keep from falling over.
“He may have muscles but if I beat him with my big dick, he won’t know what happened to him.”
Jack smiled. “Melvin, your dick don’t work anymore and you know it.”
Melvin laughed. “True. But listen. What do you think is going on with all these inspections?”
“I don’t know yet. But I’ll find out. Muncie wasn’t himself which worries me. I had him figured out a long time ago. Today, he got over on me.”
Melvin sat on Swede’s lower bunk. He made noises as he sat down, his knees popping. “How are you gonna figure it out?”
Jack sat on the lower bunk across from Melvin. He ran his hands through his hair and scratched the back of his scalp. “Melvin, for once, I don’t have any answers.”
“That IS a first.”
“We might be able to coax some information from my new friend.”
Melvin scrunched up his face at Jack, knowing full well Jack wasn’t one to consider many people his friend.
“The winning prize fighter.”
Melvin wasn’t catching on so Jack continued.
“BJ.” Jack wiggled his eyebrows at Melvin in glee.
“You outta your damn mind?” Melvin slammed his fists on his hips in disgust.
“Nope.”
“You’re gonna get that skinny-ass cracker with the mullet to work with you?”
“Don’t be jealous, Melvin. I still dig you. But BJ has a connection we can use and he sort of owes me one.”
“He just got here. How does he owe you one already?”
“Let’s just say I offered to split the winnings with him.”
Melvin’s eyebrows shot up in anger. “You are giving him MY shit? That muthafucka didn’t even fight 8-Ball.”
“Well, he didn’t need to fight when your little 8-Ball bailed out on the fight. I gave him some incentive to win along with some choice fighting moves.”
Melvin stomped his foot and looked incredulous. Jack enjoyed the rise he had gotten out of his friend.
“Relax. I’ll only give him your boner pills.” Jack grinned and waited for Melvin to lighten up. It took a few seconds but then Melvin smiled and laughed.
“That’s fucked up, man.”
“Yup.”
“So who’s the connection this redneck has?”
“Jonas.”
“Jonas? The security guard?”
Jack nodded. “Apparently, Jonas and BJ played ball together in high school. I overheard him talking to one of the other guys on line at breakfast.”
“Ain’t no way that cracker played ball in high school.”
“Football. Not that phony game of ball you people play.”
“What people is that, Jack?”
Jack slapped Melvin on the shoulder. “The people who worked so hard to free themselves only to cause trouble and end up back in chains.” He laughed in Melvin’s face.
“Uh-huh. And, if your people was so smart, how come we gotta teach ya’ll how to dance and dress?”
“Touché.” Jack patted Melvin’s back as they walked into the pod room to look for BJ.
Chapter 7
BJ shuffled his feet slowly. He wanted to make the most of the trip to the Infirmary for Jack. After all, the unofficial pod boss promised to split the spoils with him for a fight that didn’t even take place. BJ figured that stood for something since most criminals would have reneged in a heartbeat.
BJ was his nickname. His Christian name was Bob
by James Driscoll III. Not Robert. Bobby. He was descended from a long line of trailer park Driscolls who continued to name their eldest born males using a nickname. His grand pappy was Bobby James. His daddy was Bo. And he was BJ. It didn’t make sense to people who knew their family but the Driscolls didn’t care.
His sandals scuffed along the dreary tiles. BJ kept his eyes down or straight ahead so he wouldn’t arouse suspicion being seen talking to his escort. BJ had waited for Jonas to get on duty before complaining of incontinence.
“Word is something’s off around here. Anything I should know about?”
Jonas glanced at BJ in surprise. He scratched his black flat top and looked over his shoulder. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, BJ.”
“Dude, it’s me. We go way back. Remember that time Feliz jumped you in the locker room for chop blocking him? Who had your back?”
Jonas rolled his eyes but didn’t respond.
BJ scanned the walls for something different to look at. All he found was a dreary paint scheme to match the floors. Not one picture or painting adorned the cold, cinder block walls.
“And that time your old man was going to bust you up for wrecking his truck and I took the blame so you could still go to prom with Marielle? Did none of that mean anything to you?” BJ added a little hurtfulness to his tone to grease the wheels.
“I can’t be caught fraternizing with prisoners, dude. There’s too much at stake right now.”
BJ glanced at his feet. “So there IS something going on, huh?”
Jonas sighed out loud.
BJ picked up on the exasperation. He knew he was wearing his old friend down. So he ratcheted it up a notch.
“I can’t shit worth a damn and I’m all alone in this place. The least you can do is give me some conversation while we walk.” BJ wondered if Jonas would take the bait.
“Look, we can’t be seen talking. But you did do a lot for me back in the day.” Jonas paused and glanced over his shoulder again. BJ felt like Jonas was about to spill the beans.
“You can’t mention this shit to anyone. If word gets around, they’ll figure out it was me.”
BJ smiled. “I ain’t no rat, dude.”
Jonas sighed again. “The outside world has gone to shit. Some virus outbreak has people going crazy. Apparently, the virus kills people pretty rapidly once they become infected.”
“No shit.” BJ wondered why the prisoners were being kept in the dark. “Is that why there’s no more television?”
Jonas cleared his throat. “Yes. The Warden doesn’t want you guys to know because he is afraid you’ll riot. It’s actually safer in here right now.”
“Pretty devious, man.”
“It’s going to get worse.”
BJ started to glance at Jonas but caught himself. He maintained his attention on the floor. “Whaddaya mean?”
“I mean, the Warden is shutting down everything. We are closed off from the outside. Nothing goes out and nothing comes in. Including food and supplies.”
“You mean...”
“Yeah, the food is going to run out.” Jonas cut off BJ’s thought. “And guess who is on the bottom of the list?”
BJ put two and two together. “The prisoners.” He huffed under his breath. “So he’s going to starve us?”
“Not right away but I would count on it. The plan is to cut down rations for everyone, including staff. But when the shit hits the fan, I would expect the Warden will take care of his people first.”
BJ knew Jonas was right. Prisoners got the short end of the stick under normal circumstances. But with pressure like this on precious resources, it was only a matter of time before the system fell apart. “So any chance you can hook me up when things go south?”
“No fucking way, dude. Regardless of our history, I’m just as fucked as you are. I’m stuck in here. My wife and kids are out there somewhere...” His thoughts trailed off. BJ realized the same was true of his girlfriend, his mother, his sister. Everyone. It hadn’t dawned on him until this point that this problem was much scarier than just getting food inside the joint.
“That’s cool, dude. I understand.”
Jonas exhaled. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t know what is going to happen and I’m worried sick about my family.”
They neared the Infirmary. BJ knew this would be the end of the chat. He stole a glance at Jonas, figuring they were close enough to the door it wouldn’t be strange.
“Thanks for the info. I promise I won’t rat you out. Even though you are the enemy.” BJ tried to sound tough and callous but he knew Jonas would see right through the ruse.
“Every one of us is the enemy now. It’s just a matter of time.” Jonas reached for the door knob to the Infirmary. “Make sure you protect yourself in there. Those guys will kill you in a second if it means they get your food.”
BJ nodded. “Hope you get word about your family soon.”
Jonas stared at BJ and used his head to indicate BJ should enter the Infirmary. BJ shuffled forward into the bright light of the medical center. The room was large with several cots neatly lined up along one wall. A nurse sat behind the desk at the far end of the room while another nurse approached BJ.
“So, what brings you here today?” The nurse folded her arms before him.
“I can’t shit.” BJ decided to go with the crass response since the nurse appeared as if he had interrupted her routine.
She smiled and waved at Jonas who closed the door behind him. “We have just the cure for that.” She shouted over her shoulder to the seated nurse and told her to grab an enema. BJ swallowed hard and hoped Jack’s promises were worth what he had coming to him.
Chapter 8
“Alright, ladies! It’s time to take another peek under your skirts!”
“What the fuck?” Jack slid off his bunk and got in line with the other prisoners in C-Pod.
The guards were all decked out in riot gear. The usual show of force was present. Jack was pissed off. This was the third inspection in less than twenty-four hours. If something wasn’t amiss before, it most assuredly was now.
Muncie winked at Jack as he got to his place in line. Jack desperately wanted to pay back Muncie for the previous beating. His ribs were still tender and he had been pissing some blood from the kidney shot.
“Listen up. We’re going to keep coming in here until we find the culprits.” Muncie shouted at the backs of the prisoners. He slapped his baton into his fist as he spoke. “Until further notice, privileges are revoked.”
Jack already knew what was coming. BJ had filled him after visiting the Infirmary. He paid BJ with some commissary to keep things hush hush. Then Melvin made a bee-line for Jack to get the scoop. Jack didn’t tell Melvin everything just in case he developed loose lips in his old age. Melvin and Jack had a history together in the pen and both men knew they could trust each other. But the new environment left Jack more cautious than usual. He only intimated the prison was going to be on lockdown. Jack didn’t identify the reasoning behind it.
When BJ informed Jack about the virus on the outside, he almost couldn’t believe the story. As he thought it over, it started to make more sense though. The feeling that something was up. The change in Muncie’s demeanor. The television “needing repair.” Jack began worrying about the end game. Who could he trust? How would he protect himself? Would he find a way to escape? Could the outside be worse than the inside?
“The televisions will NOT be repaired. Commissary is shut off. Meals will be rationed. Maybe after we get some names, things can return to normal.”
Jack knew there would be no names. And Muncie was counting on it. It was a bait and switch to make the prisoners think someone amongst them was in possession of contraband. This notion would lead to distrust and fighting. And in the end, no names for Muncie so he could continue the ruse. He bit his tongue. The rebel inside wanted to lash out against Muncie and reveal the game. But he had to wait for the right moment.
“
Also, new infractions will earn automatic entrance to the hole. And we will stuff as many of you dirt bags into the hole as we can until things get sorted out. You guys had it easy until now. Enjoy the memories, bitches.”
Jack stole a glance at Melvin who returned his gaze. He saw that Melvin wanted to know more. Melvin was a smart cat for an old man. Jack tried to give him as little info as possible. But the look told Jack Melvin was onto him. He would have to come clean after the inspection if he wanted to keep Melvin on his short list of trusted friends.
“I have a question.”
A gasp flew down the line as Jack raised his hand like he was in a classroom.
“There’s no fucking questions, asshole.” Muncie barked at Jack.
He turned around, which was a direct violation of inspection protocol. Infractions like that one earned automatic trips to the hole. Jack didn’t care. He couldn’t control his temper any longer. It was either question Muncie or start something bigger.
“My question is this. Does the Warden know what you are doing to us?”
Muncie was breathing heavily through his flared nostrils. He approached Jack with a brisk pace.
“The Warden isn’t your concern, Turk. I am.” Jack could smell the musty scent of Muncie’s breath.
“This treatment is not humanitarian. If word spread around, I would think the Warden could lose his job. And if he loses his job, you might lose yours.”
Muncie butted Jack’s gut with the end of his baton. Jack doubled over, the air rushing out of his lungs. He wondered how many times Muncie would use his stick on him before it ended.
“Anybody else have any questions?” Muncie glared at the other prisoners who returned to staring at the wall. When Jack had begun questioning the guard, the men had turned to watch the exchange. Their defiance ended with Jack’s blow.