Date: Sat, 30 Mar 2013 22:09:54 -0400 (EDT)
From: ErastesTouch@aol.com
Subject: Different Points of View, chapter 22

Different Points of View - by Erastes
Copyright 2012 by Erastes
Chapter 22 – The Confinement.

Things were getting heated out in the rec yard, after the one inmate had pointed
me out and announced what I was in for.  Once that happened, I became
extremely anxious for rec hour to end, because each of the other inmates had
started to take turns walking past me, so they could unload with a cheap shot.
Their attacks would vary slightly, but over the course of the next fifteen minutes I
received a number of quick slaps, had elbows jabbed into my body and endured
an assortment of punches to vulnerable and painful areas.  They would do this
whenever they thought the COs were looking the other way or the other inmates
would form a human wall of sorts, to block the guards' vision, so it quickly
became impossible to continue playing our game.

Finally, the guards came over and removed the non-participants from the court,
so we could resume our game.  Once we started playing again, the guys on the
other team took this opportunity to get their licks in and knocked me around
some more.  No matter how bad it got or how many times I was elbowed, kneed,
stepped on or tripped, I knew I couldn't stop playing or start whining about the
way they were treating me.  If I did anything like that, it would only encourage
them to get more vicious or attempt to do these things more often.  For that
reason, I stayed in the game, but I managed to give back a few licks of my own,
just to let them know that I wasn't going to merely take it or act like some sort of a
pushover.

Since the spectators could no longer get to me, they turned their attention to
verbally harassing Darren instead.

"Hey, cutie," one inmate teased.  "We noticed you and this guy are pretty friendly.
Have you been letting him have a taste of your booty?"

Now everyone else began to roar with laughter.

"Hey, if he ever gets tired of doing you," the guy nearest to Darren offered, "I'd
like some of that."

To emphasize his point, he grabbed his crotch and thrust his hips back and forth
a couple of times in Darren's direction, as if he was having intercourse.  Once he
tired of doing that, because Darren refused to look in his direction and react, he
stepped on the court, reached out and slapped Darren on the butt.

"Damn, kid.  I've got to get you transferred to my cellblock, so we can meet up in
the shower room," he announced.  "I'll show you what a real man is like."

Again, some more laughter ensued, but I could tell this unwanted source of
attention was making Darren extremely uncomfortable.  Not only that, but I had a
feeling that from this point on he probably wouldn't want to hang around me any
longer, because doing so would only draw more unwanted attention to him.

I'm not sure if we had actually been outside for the full sixty minutes or if the
guards just decided to end rec early after they became aware of what was going
on.  No matter the reason, I was grateful when I heard the whistle blow, signaling
that rec period was over.  When that happened, we all got into line again and
some of the inmates decided to use this final opportunity to jostle me around a
little more, before we were led back to our cellblocks.

When we got there, I went directly into my cell.  I didn't bother to stop and explain
things to Darren or see if he'd changed his mind about me, now that he knew
what I was in here for.  I figured that I probably already had the answer to this
question, seeing he'd previously been so worried about someone raping him, so I
decided to isolate myself and not make it appear as if I were stalking him.  I
thought this was a damn shame, because even though I didn't initially want to
make friends, I was actually beginning to enjoy having him to hang out with,
because it had certainly helped to make the time pass by more quickly so far.
>From now on, though, I'll have to survive by being a loner and staying in my cell.

I also realized this meant that not only wouldn't I be going out to rec, but I also
wouldn't get to see the indoor rec room.  That was the facility where the guards
took the inmates during inclement weather and I was actually looking forward to
seeing what they had in there.  Fred had mentioned that there were two ping-
pong tables, weight stations and a large-screen TV that was controlled by the
COs in the room with us, instead of being set by the desk sergeant, as was done
with the TVs in the cellblocks.  Fred had mentioned several other things of
interest as well, although I can't recall all of them right now, but I no longer felt
that seeing that area would be worth putting up with the treatment I would
probably receive while I was there.

I certainly didn't want to expose myself to that kind of abuse again, even though I
felt badly that I also wouldn't be getting any exercise.  Instead, I felt it would be
more prudent to avoid rec hour from this point on, seeing everyone knew what I
had done and most of them seemed to want to get a piece of me now.  I
suddenly found myself at the top of the jailhouse 'Most Wanted List' and a prime
target, since the majority of the inmates considered me to be among the worst of
the scum in here and the most despicable type of criminal.

I had been lying on my bunk for over an hour, just thinking and trying to figure out
the best way to pass the time, when Darren unexpectedly appeared at my cell
door.

"Is it true what they're saying about you?" he asked.

I sat up, looked him in the eye and prepared to answer his question.

"If you mean, did I get convicted for having sex with a young man, then the
answer is yes," I replied, feeling I should be honest with him.  "But I didn't force
him and only performed oral sex on him, at his request.  I never asked him to do
anything to me in return and there was never any penetration.  No matter what
the others are saying, I didn't rape him or anyone else, and I never harmed him
in any way."

"The other guys are saying some really awful things about you and that includes
the pair from the other end of our cellblock," he advised me, while looking
concerned.  "I could hear them while I was in my cell, so I'm worried that they
might try to do something to you."

"Yes, I figured they'd probably have a problem with me now, since they found out
what I'd supposedly done, but I find it strange how some of these guys can be so
judgmental, because I'm sure what they did isn't anything to brag about either," I
replied.  "I'd heard that the guy who was in the reception area with us was in here
because he'd fired a loaded shotgun at his pregnant girlfriend's car, while she
was sitting behind the steering wheel.  From what was said, I guess he blew out
the windshield and rear window with the blast, but somehow she must have
ducked down and didn't get hit.  He was trying to kill her and her unborn child, yet
everyone in here feels that what I did was more disgusting and far worse than
what he had done."

"Really?  I didn't know that," Darren shot back.  "I guess I'll stay clear of him
then."

"That's just what the other inmates said," I confirmed.  "They say he's probably
only in here until his trial is over, because everyone suspects he'll be found guilty
of attempted murder and then be shipped off to one of the prisons, where he'll
serve out his sentence."

"Yeah, I'm sure they're probably right," Darren agreed.  "Why didn't you bother to
tell me that, right after you heard about it?"

"Well, I just heard it while we were outside, but since it wasn't really any of my
business, I didn't feel I should be spreading the rumor," I told him.  "I wouldn't
typically do that, mainly because I'm not going to be judgmental of anyone else in
here, since I don't know any of this for certain and have only heard the
scuttlebutt."

"Then why did you mention it now?" he continued.

"I was just pointing out that the others think I'm so bad, but some of them had
done some pretty bad stuff too," I replied.  "I was just using it as an example, not
trying to spread the rumor."

"Oh, ok, and I heard some stuff too," Darren announced,  "Someone said that the
one guy in our block, the bigger one who sat at the table next to us at lunch, I
think his name is Roy, they said he's in here for assaulting a cop.  I guess the
cop was trying to arrest him for carjacking, but somehow Roy managed to get the
upper hand and beat the crap out of him.  I guess the cop's backup showed up
just in time to stop Roy before he actually killed the cop, so he's in here waiting to
go to trial too.  He really scares me!"

"Yeah, there are some pretty tough characters in here, so you have to watch
yourself" I agreed.  "I just want you to know that I'll understand if you don't want
to hang around me now either, since you know what I'm in here for."

I offered this comment in order to let him off the hook, since he'll probably end up
getting just as much grief as they're giving me, if he continues hanging around
my cell.  He appeared to be somewhat tongue-tied after I told him this, because
his jaw was moving, but no sounds were coming from his throat.  Finally, he was
able to overcome the problem.

"Do you WANT me to stop hanging around you?" he asked, which actually
surprised me.

"No, I didn't say that," I replied.  "I just thought that it might be what you'd want to
do, now that you've learned what I did and have seen how the others are going
to treat you, if you continue to hang around me."

"Hell no!  I don't want to stop hanging out with you, so I'll just find a way to deal
with that other stuff, because I still want us to do things together," he shot back.
"I feel safer around you than I would with any of those other guys, no matter what
they say.  You just don't act like the type that would try to hurt me, but I can't say
the same thing about them."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, but you heard the types of things they're
going to say about you, if you continue to hang around me," I warned.  "They're
going to think we're doing things with each other, so it's only going to get worse
for you.  Are you sure you want to set yourself up like that?"

"I don't care what they think or say," he protested.  "I just feel safer around you
and know you'll help to protect me."

"Yes, I'll do that for you," I confirmed, "but I think you should know that I don't
plan to go to rec again.  That will be my way of avoiding some of those types of
situations."

"Then I won't go either," he stated.  "I don't need that crap and we can just
exercise out in the common area instead, once the others leave."

"Well, it's your choice, so I won't try to talk you out of it," I confirmed.  "Besides, I
could definitely use a friend in here as well."

I was almost surprised to hear myself say this, seeing I swore previously that I
would make NO friends while I was in jail.  I hope I'm not setting myself up for
another problem again, as I had with Jared.

Now that we had reached an agreement, I think we both felt a little better about
being stuck here.  Since I knew he didn't want to be alone, I went out to the
common area with him and we just sat and talked until dinnertime.  When we
heard the guard shout for us to come and get our trays, we obediently did as we
were told and took our meals to the same table we'd been sitting at.  I think we
were both somewhat surprised when Fred came over and sat at the table with
us, but he didn't say anything at first.  We weren't sure why he had decided to do
this, but eventually he looked in our direction, smiled and then nodded his head.
I think he'd done that to let me know that he doesn't care about what I had
supposedly done as well.  It was either that or he was just more afraid of the
other pair in our cellblock and willing to stay close to us, so we could help to
protect him too.

Once this was settled, I looked at my tray, because I hadn't yet bothered to see
what was for dinner.  I quickly discovered this meal consisted of a single salmon
patty, which was made from chopped salmon, mixed with egg and breadcrumbs
and then baked in the oven.  It was dry and needed a lot of ketchup to make it
palatable, but we were only given a couple of those small ketchup packets.  I
slapped my salmon patty between the two slices of bread that we had also been
given, smothered it in what I could squeeze out of the ketchup packets, and then
took a bite.  We also had tatter tots, which was probably the reason we had been
given the ketchup packets, corn, pudding and another carton of milk to wash it
down.  Most of the guys were bitching about the salmon patties, because it
wasn't their favorite entree, but I suspect that not very many of them care for fish
at all.

After downing this less than appetizing meal, the trays and silverware were
collected, counted and taken away.  Shortly after that happened, another guard
came around and dropped off the list of what they sold in the inmate store and
apologized for not getting it to us sooner.  I immediately looked the list over,
noted the things I wanted to get and quickly checked them off.  I decided to buy a
pair of flip-flops for the shower, a plastic cup to keep on the sink in my cell for
when I wanted a drink, a couple of packages of the premixed Kool-Aid, which I
would use to mask the taste of the water, a package of plastic spoons, a couple
of bags of chocolate chip cookies, a deck of regular playing cards, a deck of
UNO cards and a magic marker, so I could mark my underwear before I sent it to
the laundry.

In addition to the items I was planning to purchase, I noticed they also offered
frozen pizzas, and Fred explained that the guards would microwave them before
they were delivered to you, plus they also offered plastic bottles of soda, potato
chips, Doritos, Cheetos, several types of cookies, pens, writing pads, envelopes,
postage stamps, toothpaste, deodorant, shampoo, shaving cream, selected
games and several other items that didn't interest me.  It was quite an extensive
general store, which not only paid for itself, but it also added some money to a
general fund, which was then used to buy DVDs and various items for the rec
room, as well as other things the inmates could use and enjoy.

After I'd finished making out my list, I noticed that Darren wasn't ordering
anything, so I quickly asked him why.

"I've only got a couple bucks in my account, so I'd better save that for stamp
money, in case I need to mail some letters out to my folks later," he replied.

I nodded my understanding, but then I quickly made some changes to my order
form and listed two pairs of flip-flops and two cups, as well as increasing the
amount of cookies and Kool-Aid I ordered.  I didn't tell Darren that I had done this
and figured I'd just surprise him with these items after they were delivered.  I'd
keep the cookies and Kool-Aid in my cell, but I'd tell him that he could come in
and help himself any time he wanted, rather than give him his own.  That way, I
hoped to avoid some of the snide remarks Roy and Irvin might make about my
plying him with gifts.  I felt, however, that it would be ok for Darren to keep the
flip-flops and cup in his own cell, because I thought he could find a way to take
them there without the others finding out that I had purchased them for him.

Before long, the CO came back to collect our orders and told us that he'd be
back with everything later that evening.  I thanked him, and when I turned around
and saw Darren, I noticed that he was looking a bit depressed, since he hadn't
been able to get anything.  After seeing this, I hoped my little surprise would perk
him up when it arrived, but I knew he'd have to suffer through this bout of self-pity
until then.

While I was observing Darren's reaction, Fred came over and asked Darren and I
if we wanted to play cards.  This innocuous offer seemed to indicate that he
wasn't going to shun me, now that he also knew what I was in for.  He could have
asked the other pair to do this, but then again they were at the far end of the
cellblock watching what was on TV.  When Fred saw me looking in their
direction, I guess he thought I was going to ask them to join us.

"Please don't say anything to them," he pleaded.  "They're not much fun, if you
know what I mean."

"Oh, I wasn't going to do anything like that," I stated, "because I don't think
they're very fond of me, so I'd rather not be around them either."

After saying this, I released what amounted to a half-huff, half-chuckle, since he'd
surprised me with his response.

Darren and I then sat down with him to play and that's when we learned the deck
of cards belonged to him.  He mentioned that he had purchased it from the
inmate store shortly after he first got here, but then he added that we could use it
whenever we wanted.  After a few minutes of playing in silence, I decided to
speak.

"Fred, I just want to thank you for not turning on me, like some of the others did
earlier," I stated.

"Hey, we're all in here for doing something wrong and the only thing I see as
being worse than what any of the rest of us have done is if someone killed
someone else," he indicated.

At least he was more open-minded about such things than most of the others, so
I knew we were going to get along.

"Well, I think I can speak for both of us when I say that Darren and I both
appreciate your willingness to be friends with us," I added.

"Heck, it's no big deal," he stated, while looking slightly embarrassed that I was
making such a big deal out of this.

While we were playing cards, Fred took some time to fill us in with a little more
information about this place.  He explained that there were four wings on each
level, but the front wing on the ground level, which we were in, was directly
behind the administrative area, which also contained the kitchen and laundry
facilities.  He told us that each of the three levels consisted of four wings each
and that all of the wings on the first two floors, along with three of the wings on
the third floor were exactly the same.  He said each wing had four cellblocks, with
each one containing five individual cells.  There were two cellblocks on each end
of the wing, placed back to back, with a small, locked maintenance space
separating them, where all the plumbing was located, before connecting to the
various cells.  He also told us there was a group shower area in between the four
cellblocks, which we'd get to use three times a week.

When I questioned why the jail was so big, seeing the county wasn't very large,
Fred had an answer for that too.  He stated it wasn't that our county had a lot of
criminals, but the county officials had this large facility built so they could take in
inmates from neighboring counties that lacked space or to hold state prisoners
who were waiting to be transferred to a penitentiary.

The county had decided they could make some money charging the other
counties and state slightly more than it actually cost to run things, because they
knew there was a statewide shortage of inmate housing.  Those in charge felt
that if the other counties or state didn't want to pay so much, then they could
either look for somewhere else to keep their prisoners or build their own facilities,
since they knew that neither would likely happen.  The county then used the
profit it generated to not only cover the cost of boarding the local inmates, but so
it could also purchase additional equipment and pay some of the other
administrative expenses.  It also meant the county was able to create a few extra
jobs locally, which helped the residents of the county as well.

Fred then told us that for the most part the local prisoners were kept on the first
floor, prisoners from other counties primarily on the second floor and state
inmates on the top floor.  Seeing there were four cellblocks to each wing and five
prisoners per cellblock, this meant that each wing had a maximum of twenty
inmates, which came to a grand total of eighty inmates on each of the first two
levels, when at full capacity.  That figure was capable of doubling, however, since
each cell could technically house two inmates each.

The third floor wasn't quite the same.  Although three of the wings were similar to
the other two floors, the rear wing was set up differently.  In that wing, there were
only three cellblocks, with each cellblock having a door at each end, so it could
be divided.  There was a solid metal wall that split those cellblocks just short of
the middle, which left two cells on one side and three on the other, but the wall
prevented the two sides from interacting with each other.  The side with two cells
had only one table, while the side with three cells had two tables.

This arrangement, of splitting the cellblock in this fashion, served two purposes.
Any of those cells could be used for prisoners that needed to be placed in
protective custody, or more accurately limited access, because they might be
harmed by other inmates.  Those smaller areas could also be used as temporary
housing for juveniles, age 14 to 17, that were being charged as adults, because
minors couldn't be put in a cellblock with anyone 18 or older.

In the area where there was only one cellblock, on the rear side of that cellblock,
where another cellblock would have normally been located, there were ten
isolation cells.  There were five of these units where the cells would normally
have been, if it had been another cellblock, and then there were five more
isolation cells across from them, against the outer wall.  Since there was no
common area for these cells, it left a walkway in between the two areas.  The
isolation cells had four solid walls, with no bars, with a heavy-duty solid door,
which had two small openings in it.

The first opening was a slot through which the COs could pass meals or other
items to the inmate, as well as being able to use it to handcuff the prisoner before
the door was opened.  That opening was equipped with a small, hinged door,
which opened downward and could be closed and locked when not in use.
There was also a 6" x 6" window in the upper part of the door, complete with
bulletproof glass, which the guards used observe the prisoner.  Other than those
differences, the interior of the isolation cells was similar to the cells in the various
cellblocks, except there was only one platform in each cell that could be used as
a bed.

The prisoners in these cells were generally placed there because they were
either violent, seriously uncooperative or on suicide watch.  Those inmates had
to stay in the cell 23/7 and were only let out for an hour of rec time.  Since they
weren't allowed any interaction with other inmates, they had to take this hour in
one of several small individual recreation cages on the roof, weather permitting,
but these cages didn't give them much room to exercise in.

Darren and I found this information interesting and thanked Fred for helping us to
understand how this place operated.  At least now we knew some other reasons
why we didn't want to get into trouble, plus we were also now aware that the jail
administrators were doing their best to protect local prisoners from outsiders and
more violent offenders.  My only thought was, if the guys who'd been screaming
at me and trying to rough me up weren't the most dangerous prisoners in here,
then what might some of those other guys be capable of doing?

During this time, and even after he finished telling us these things, we continued
playing both pitch and hearts.  Every time I glanced up, I would notice that
Darren was still silently moping and not totally paying attention to the games.  I
knew this was due to the fact that he was still feeling sorry for himself, because
he hadn't been able to order any goodies from the inmate store, and even though
I felt sorry for him, I continued to let him stew about it, since I didn't want to spoil
the surprise.

This continued until our coffee was delivered, with cream and sugar already
added, and while we were enjoying that, the guard returned with our orders.
Each person's purchases had been placed in a paper bag, with his name clearly
written on the outside, and we were called over and handed our things.  I took my
bag directly to my cell, since I wanted to see if Darren would show up to see what
I had purchased, and he didn't disappoint me.

"What'd you get?" he wanted to know, as soon as he reached my cell.

"Oh, only a few things to make life more bearable," I told him.

I didn't look up to see his expression, because by this time I was taking
everything out of the bag and placing it on my cot.  When I finally glanced in his
direction, he was looking my purchases over, but he had a puzzled look on his
face.

"Why'd you get two cups and two pairs of flip-flops?" he asked.

"So I could give one of each to you," I answered, while flashing him a grin.

I then picked up those items, and when I turned around to extend them toward
him, I noticed he now had a shocked expression plastered across his face.

"You didn't need to do that, man," he blurted out.

Darren almost sounded apologetic, but I could tell he was also very moved and
pleased.

"Hey, I did it because we're friends," I explained.  "I also bought plenty of Kool-
Aid and cookies, so you can come in here and share them with me.  Ok?"

A small grin crept across his face.

"Thanks, man," he replied.  "Damn, I knew I was right about you."

He slapped me on the back in appreciation and then put his arm across my
shoulder and gave me a sort of semi-hug.  I think this was merely an impulsive
gesture on his part and he didn't fully realize what he was doing, but then he
removed his arm abruptly, after a few seconds.

Darren thanked me several more times for my kindness and then proudly carried
his new possession to his cell, before I had a chance to mention that he should
wait and try to do it on the sly.  Unfortunately, the bullies from the other end of
the cellblock spotted him carrying the flip-flops and cup back to his own cell and
pounced on this immediately.

"Did your lover boy buy you a present?" one of the dumbbell duo asked.

"No, but my friend did," Darren replied, while not letting the bastard get under his
skin.  "I told him I'd pay him back later."

"Oh, I'm sure you did," the other one chimed in.  "Just not with money."

After he said this, they both began to chuckle, but Darren merely walked into his
cell and put his new acquisitions away.

After that, Darren, Fred and I decided to watch a little TV as well, but we sat
apart from the other two and took seats at the middle table.  While we were doing
this, I noticed Roy and Irvin kept giving us nasty looks and whispering between
themselves, so I decided it would be best to steer clear of them, at least as much
as I could, from this point forward.

Just before 11:00, it was announced that lights out would take place in five
minutes, so we watched the end of the program and then went back to our
individual cells.  I ended up brushing my teeth in the dark, so I made a mental
note to brush after the coffee was served from now on.

About thirty minutes after lights out, we began to hear a series of catcalls, as the
other inmates tried to intimidate those they felt were more disgusting than
themselves, or just more vulnerable, and the majority of these comments were
directed toward me.  It was clearly evident that I was going to get more than my
share of this treatment.

"Hey, baby-raper," I heard one guy call out, "why don't you do us all a favor and
hang yourself before morning."

"Yeah, string yourself up and do the world a favor, especially those kids you've
raped," someone else added.

"Hey, asshole Bob," another voice shouted, "what pleasure do you get from doing
shit with little boys?  Find yourself a fucking woman, you creep."

"He must have such a small dick that a woman would laugh at it," someone else
added, "so when he compares it to a little boy's cock, his looks huge.  That's why
he only does it with kids."

That earned a huge laugh and an assortment of comments in agreement.

"It may be little, but if I ever get near him, it will be fucking gone," someone else
threatened.  "I'll either rip it off or cut his mother-fucking dick off and jam it down
his throat."

I guess this was pretty typical treatment for someone with a similar conviction
and it wasn't unique to me.  From what I had been told, the inmates would try to
get those who disgusted them to commit suicide or face being harassed and
assaulted during the entire time they were confined.  I chose to ignore their
comments, but it didn't help and they persisted.

"Hey, Roy," someone called out to the guy in our cellblock who'd been giving me
dirty looks all night.  "You'd better call and tell your wife not to bring your son to
visit you anymore or else that pervert will begin drooling and trying to get a piece
of your son's ass."

I knew this comment was meant to enrage Roy, so maybe he'd assault me later
and take care of the situation for them.  I think the instigator wanted Roy to think
it would be a preventative attack, to keep his son safe, but that's one of the
stupidest aspects about the guy's remark.  Since we were all locked up, how in
the hell would anyone suspect that I could get to Roy's son, even if I wanted to?
It's amazing how some of these simple minds work.

There were a lot more similar comments made before they quit, but they finally
gave up on this verbal assault, since they weren't getting a rise out of me.  When
this happened, my tormentors merely turned their attention to a new target.

"Oh, Darren sweetie," one husky voice offered, in a high falsetto.  "If you like
what you're getting from old Bobby-boy over there, then me and my buddies
would love to show you an even better time."

Once he said this, he let out a husky laugh, which actually sounded kind of
sinister, and this caused me to do some thinking on my own about what these
jackasses were doing.  I found it somewhat shocking that while they were busy
belittling me for what they believed I had done, such as raping a boy, yet nearly
everyone of them would have been happy to ram his cock up Darren's virgin ass,
just so he could get his rocks off.  I guess it just goes to prove that they have
their own warped sense of morality and it wasn't that they were actually objecting
to the act they incorrectly thought that I'd done.  Besides, Darren wasn't that
much older than Jared.

I also realized these current comments must be quite unsettling for Darren too,
but I was hoping that he would be strong enough not to break down and give
them any sense of satisfaction.  He seemed to be holding up, since I hadn't
heard a sound from his cell, but I planned to talk to him in the morning, to make
certain that he wasn't letting this get to him.  I'm almost positive that he'll need
some support from me, and possibly even from Fred, in order to be able to resist
reacting to this blatant harassment, but I'm determined to help him through this
low point in his life.

This verbal abuse continued for a little while longer, but since they weren't getting
a rise from either Darren or me, they finally gave up.  About an hour after things
quieted down, I finally fell asleep, thus ending the first stressful day of my
confinement.

The second day started out when one of the COs came by and began shouting
that it was time to wake up and the cell doors all opened.  I got out of bed,
walked over to the sink in my cell and splashed a little water on my face, before I
went to the toilet.  A few minutes later, the CO came back pushing a small cart,
with a collection of disposable razors on it, and asked if anyone wanted to shave.
Those who had done this before had a razor with their name taped to it, but there
was also a pack of new disposable razors for those of us who didn't have one
yet.

I didn't feel as if I needed to shave today and decided to wait a day or two more
before doing that.  What did I care if I looked like shit in here?  It wasn't as if any
of these people were my friends or I was trying to impress any of them.  Anyway,
since I wasn't going to shave, I just kind of lounged around on my bed and
mentally went over what had happened the previous day, while I waited for
breakfast to be served.  Before that happened, however, Darren showed up in
my cell again.

"Hey, kiddo.  How are you doing after last night?" I asked.

I was hoping he wasn't taking the things that were being shouted at him last night
to heart or letting the other assholes get to him too badly.

"They've got to do better than that if they want to upset me," he answered,
although he didn't appear to be as confident as he sounded.  "I actually fell
asleep while they were spouting that crap."

"Good for you and I'm glad to hear it," I concurred.

I was pleased to see that he seemed to be handling the situation quite well,
especially since he had accidentally set himself up for that abuse by being willing
to be my friend.

Around 7:00 breakfast was delivered.  Seeing this was my first breakfast here, I
was interested in learning how my days would begin from now on, since I was
going to be stuck in this hole for several months.  For breakfast, we were each
given one of those individual boxes of cereal, but none of us were given a choice
of which variety was on our tray.  The tray also contained a scoop of scrambled
eggs and a couple of pieces of cold, mostly dry toast, to round out this disaster.
There was also the standard carton of milk, which we could use on our cereal,
and a similar size carton of orange juice.  Now, after having seen an example of
the culinary delights I would be receiving each morning, I assumed I would most
likely be losing some weight during my stay here.

After we finished eating our breakfast, a CO came by to tell me my lawyer was
here, and since I wasn't expecting him, I must have appeared more than a little
surprised and confused.  I couldn't imagine why Bruno would come by to see me
again so soon, unless he had discovered some new information about my
situation.  However, the real surprise came when I walked into the small room
and discovered it wasn't Bruno – it was Jack Coughlin.

"Jack, I never expected to see you here," I told him.

"Well, I'm here on business," he announced, which confused me even more.  "I
called Dick after I learned you'd been sentenced, and he and I arranged a
conference call with your publisher, so we could discuss your current situation.
I'm happy to inform you that they have expressed no hesitation about continuing
to publish your stories.  After we finished that call, Dick and I talked it over and
decided that since I live closer to you than he does, I would come to see you and
discuss a proposition.  We've worked out a way to keep you productive while
you're in here, since you'll need to continue to fatten your bank account in order
to cover all of the bills until you get back on your feet."

"But I have quite a bit of money in the bank already," I protested.

"You do for now, but I've projected your expenses out over the time you'll be here
and have concluded that your funds will be dreadfully low by the time you get
out," he countered.  "If there is any kind of emergency in the meantime, such as
something needing to be repaired at the house, a vet bill for the puppy or any
other unexpected surprise, you might not have enough left to cover it.  Besides,
we want you to have plenty left over so you'll be able to survive and possibly
even take a little vacation after you get out of this place."

I thought about his comment briefly and realized he was probably correct.

"Thanks for thinking about these things and taking care of me while I'm locked
up," I stated.

"No problem.  That's why you hired me, remember?" he replied, with a chuckle
and a wink.  "So allow me to continue looking after your contractual agreements
and financial needs."

"Thanks, Jack.  I don't know what I'd do without you, Dick and even Bruno," I told
him, and I sincerely meant that.

"Thanks.  Now, I brought you a stack of legal pads, a few more pens and a
couple of pencils, so you can continue to write while you're in here," he
continued.  "The guards are currently doing an inspection of those various items I
brought along, to make sure I'm not trying to smuggle any contraband in with
them, so they'll give them to you later.

"Dick and I decided that you could continue writing your stories longhand and
then I'll have one of the people in my office type them up on the computer," Jack
continued.  "I will pay her an appropriate hourly wage for doing this, but any of
the people I might use are all very efficient, so it shouldn't take too long to type
up each chapter and then I'll deduct that amount out of your royalties later.

"Once that person is done with each chapter," Jack added, "then I'll email the
document to Dick, so he can make his suggestions, as he normally does, and
then he'll send it back to me.  I'll have it printed off, so I can bring it to you on my
next visit, and then you can make your changes.  Once you give them back to
me, I'll have the changes made to your original document and then send it back
to Dick.  If he's satisfied with it, then he'll send it along to your editor and we'll go
through the same process with her.  How does that sound to you?"

"It sounds absolutely terrific," I replied.  "You are a godsend.  I never anticipated
that you'd go to so much trouble for me, but I really appreciate it."

"It's my pleasure," he responded.  "When you write, you make money for all of
us, so I'm going to keep you productive.  It just makes good economic sense."

Even though I knew there was probably more to this than what he was willing to
admit, such as possibly Dick and he had decided to do this to keep my mind
occupied and help protect my mental health while I was incarcerated, I
appreciated their efforts and made no further comments.  However, I was
immensely grateful that he and Dick had arranged this, because it will not only
help to pass the time and possibly even help to put me in a more positive mood,
because I won't be merely wasting my time while I'm confined.

"If it's alright with you, I'll come by once a week to pick up what you've written
and drop off anything I've gotten back from Dick or your editor," Jack continued,
breaking me free from my thoughts. "If you need anything else from us, such as
some background material or research on a particular topic, then tell the guards
you need to call your lawyer, so you can advise me about your requirements."

That's when I realized I needed him to go to the house and bring me copies of
the chapters and notes from the stories I had been working on before I was
arrested.  I would need those things if I wanted to continue those stories, so I
asked him to copy those files off of my computer, print them out and then bring
them in to me on his next visit.

Once that was settled, I thanked him again, shook his hand and he left.  When
the CO came to lead me back to my cell, he handed me the bag with the
additional supplies that Jack had just brought.  After taking it from him, I clung to
those items tightly, because they were like a breath of fresh air in this place.  I
then followed the CO back to my cellblock, and when we got there, I took the bag
directly to my cell and rummaged through the contents.

Before I could do more than put the items away, Darren showed up in my cell.

"I hope there wasn't a problem," he observed, as he entered.

"No, nothing like that," I replied.  "It was my literary attorney, who's also taking
care of things for me while I'm locked up.  He brought me a bunch of legal pads,
pens and pencils so I could use my time to be productive."

I pulled out one of the yellow legal pads to show him.

"I'm glad it wasn't something serious," he followed.  "Do you want me to leave so
you can write then?"

When I turned and looked at his face, I could tell he would do this if I asked, but I
think he was hoping I wouldn't request that he leave.

"Do you have something to you can do while I write?" I asked, feeling slightly
guilty.

"Not really, unless Fred wants to play cards or something," he answered.

"Don't you have any other interests?  You know, things you could do while you're
in here, besides just play cards," I pressed, feeling sorry for the kid.  "Maybe
something you could do in here while I write?"

"I like to read and draw," he answered.  "I guess I could do one of those things."

"Great!  Do you have a book to read or something to draw on?" I asked, in order
to clarify if he could actually do this.

"Not right now," he responded.  "I guess I could ask a trusty to get me a couple of
books from the rec room.  Fred said they have two large bookcases there that
are filled with paperbacks that you can check out, but since we're not going to
rec, maybe one of the trusties would be willing to do that for me."

"Yes, I suppose you could do that, just not right at this moment," I pointed out.  "If
you like to draw, you can use one of my legal pads and a pencil, if you want.  I
know there are lines on the paper, but if that doesn't bother you, you're welcome
to take one."

"Yeah, if you wouldn't mind," he agreed.

I handed Darren a legal pad and a pencil and he sat down on my bunk to try his
had at this new way to pass the time, while I sat down at the small table to begin
writing.  Since I wouldn't be able to work on the other stories until Jack brought
back the things that I'd requested, I sat down and began to work on the concept
for a new story that I'd been kind of toying with since I'd been stuck in here.  I
would continue working on the other stories again, once Jack brought me the
things I needed, but for now I'd try to flesh out this new idea.

You see, I'd been thinking about writing a story about an eighteen-year old who
gets involved with a gang, finds himself caught up in their macho world of crime,
drugs and sex, and then ends up getting arrested for dealing.  He gets convicted
at trial and sent to prison, so I figured that I might be able to use some of my
current experiences to provide the necessary background information and
emotional depth that I would need to make the incarceration sections seem
believable.  Keeping this in mind, I began to write an initial outline for the story.

Carefully, I began to jot down the various events that I wanted to happen in this
story and then I tried to place those items in a logical sequence, so that later I'd
be able to insert them into the various chapter synopses that I thought I could
use them in.  Doing this would help me to determine, in advance, what types of
things I might need Jack, or more accurately someone from his office, to do for
me, such as gather additional background information or do research on a
particular topic.  Now that I was thinking about writing again, I was getting really
psyched.

I slaved away on this and tried to get as much done as possible, but I did stop to
eat when lunch was served.  I had to remember that this wasn't like home, where
I could keep writing for as long as I needed and then get up and grab something
to eat when I was ready to take a break.  Therefore, I'd have to adjust the way I
operated to accommodate having to stop for meals when they were served.  This
would be a big change for me, so I really hoped that having to do this wouldn't
cause me to lose my train of thought while I was chowing down.

Before we left the cell to pick up our trays, however, Darren was eager to show
me what he had been working on.  Damn, he was actually pretty good and had
drawn some sketches of animals, both real and mythical, as well as some more
sinister looking images involving skulls and various weapons.  After seeing how
well he had done, I praised his ability, but it also made me decide to do
something else for him, except what I wanted to do would have to wait for the
time being.

After coming to this conclusion, I began to think that this might work out for both
us, so being here wouldn't seem so bad.  I was, however, a little concerned
about the abuse Darren might get from Beavis and Butthead, especially if he
started to spend so much time in my cell, but then again, I felt they were going to
be a problem no matter what we did.


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