Chapter 15

Yes, basic cable, but it was something, which always beats nothing. Grisham set it to a national news network as instructed on the work order. The remote would be taken to the warden, and I was left wondering when I was going to get it back if ever. How I went from happy to mad so quickly almost surprised me. But it was my kind of luck, as always. If I could find some way to reach it, I could change the channel myself. The question I contemplated was the punishment that would be for doing it.

We left through the back door and he indicated a house in the distance, “That right there is where I live.” causing me to squint the sun away to look.

That tale of his gave me hope that I wouldn’t be locked up forever, which kept popping into my mind. I could imagine a young boy looking over at the compound, gripping a plastic pair of binoculars, scoping out the inhabitants lustfully. The idea of breaking into a prison was kind of ballsy and that’s coming from a guy caught hanging from a ceiling in a jewelry store.

After storing the equipment and the leftover mulch, it was time to call it a day. I was worn out and ready for a meal and media session, even if it was going to be all news. With a farewell and a ‘see you tomorrow’ from Grisham, I went back inside to the break room.

I made it a point to look for the cook, wanting to see her in a whole new light. I remembered the introduction from the Warden and the name Naomi came to mind. I saw her finishing up, taking her apron off behind the counter. She seemed so ordinary, you’d never think she had a dark past at all.

I grabbed a tray and loaded it with meat loaf and mashed potatoes, watching her grab a sweater and head out. I imagined the old man was outside waiting to cart off his fantasy from the past and take her to his place. If I had a fantasy come true, it would somehow get screwed up and there’d be no happily ever after for me.

I dug in to the meatloaf intent on woofing the meal down and getting to my highly anticipated viewing. I got maybe three bites into it before I heard, “What’s up?” beside me.

I glanced at Jones and then back to my food saying, “I’m eating.” and took another bite.

“With those hands?” she asked, “Look at them, you been picking your ass with those?”

It was true, I hadn’t thought to wash them, instead, focusing on eating and leaving. “Some of us do the hard work around here.” I mumbled, and shoved another piece of the meatloaf in my mouth.

“I can smell you too.” she chastised, curling her nose, “You need sanitized.”

“As usual, every time a guy starts to smell like a man, you dames want us to take a bath!” I huffed, giving her a quizzical glare.

She bent over close to my ear and said, “Just because you’re sitting in here doesn’t mean I won’t snatch you up and drag you somewhere else to beat you.” and stood up straight, “Finish eating so I can put you up.”

She had the audacity to stand right over me while I ate. I was, all of a sudden, not in a hurry to finish up anymore. I was bound and determined to make her stand there as long as possible and took the smallest bites possible. I fully expected a slap or a jab or, knowing Miss Hitler, a zap. But she stood there and let me finish without complaining.

I was the one that gave up and swallowed the last of my food. Next was the drink and I sipped at it as if it were hot. Apparently, that was the line I shouldn’t have crossed as she slapped the back of my head causing the cup to spill out and up my nose.

“You’re done goofing off!” she proclaimed, “Put your shit up and let’s go.”

Blowing lemonade and snot out of my nose, I finally got the word “Bitch!” out. I snatched up a napkin right before she snatched me up by my hair. “Mother f...” I started, being led around the bench seat I was sitting on.

“Get your dishes and put them up.” she instructed, pushing me towards the table while letting go of my hair.

“This is guard brutality!” I protested, but got my plate and cup anyway.

I took it over to the counter and asked the one guard left in the place, “Did you see that shit?”

“Shut the fuck up.” she replied, looking up from her phone, “You brought that on yourself.” adding a grin, “Besides, you liked it; I could tell.” and walked away.

Ok, maybe I did push her a little. Alright, I might have liked it a little too, but only because I could push her buttons. Jones was pretty predictable and I felt that I could play her like a fiddle. Sure, her tune was all about that beat, but it was a tune I was pretty familiar with.

“So what’s up now?” I asked, following her out of the break room, “We going to see the warden?”

“I told you, I’m putting you back in your cage.” she retorted, keeping her eyes ahead of us.

“Come on, every time you’ve gotten me, it was for something or another.” I pointed out, “What is it this time?”

“I’m taking your skinny ass to the basement.” she argued, “That is all for now.”

She opened the heavy door at the bottom and pointed. I moped in like a hurt puppy, disappointed that she didn’t want to play. But I felt that she had enough of my goofing off from the way she was acting.

“That body odor is revolting, take a shower.” she instructed, and let the door slam shut.

Well, it wasn’t my fault I looked and smelt like a cave man. I didn’t have a relative to load me up commissary money so deodorant was out of the question. Heck, the shampoo I got was a gift and the soap was standard issue. I didn’t even have a brush for my hair and my teeth could use a good scrubbing. Maybe if I wasn’t treated like a caged animal, I could look a bit more civilized.

I did as instructed and headed for the shower, passing under my T.V. along the way. Who’d have guessed it, another mass shooting was the breaking news story and everyone had their own stories to tell. A ticker tape scrolled across the bottom with mundane stories.

The shampoo wasn’t good enough this time and I had to pick pieces of mulch out of my hair. Maybe conditioner would help it come out easier but I didn’t have any of that either. I sniffed an arm pit and received the pungent odor Jones was complaining about. I scrubbed that away in haste. Maybe Jones didn’t treat me like a man because I looked and smelled like an animal, but whose fault is that? I didn’t have a pot to piss in.

I was drying off when the door flew open and loud voices traveled down to the shower stall.

“Fuck you!” I heard, “You know you planted it!”

I heard the unmistakable Jones command, “Move your ass!”

“I’m telling you bitch, that ain’t my shank!” the voice screamed back.

I peeked around the corner and watched Barbie wrestle the one and only Bertha into a cell across from mine. Even with the hefty girl handcuffed, the commander still struggled with the task. My first thought was that the guard screwed up by bringing that little monster down here with me. I didn’t think I could resist tormenting her.

About the time I thought Jones had her caged, out she came, trying to run down the hall. Jones snatched her by the back of her collar and the next thing I saw were breasts popping out in the front when the zipper on the jumpsuit popped. Like hanging onto the rope of a wild bull, Jones pulled the makeshift reins back, causing the garment to gather around her bound arms. Determined to get away, Bertha leaned forward, trying her best to shrug the grip free.

The commander had a decision to make then because it looked like she was about to go flying over top of the prisoner. Her solution was epic as she let that murdering bully go. Gravity took over and Bertha bounced off of the concrete tits first and then skidding to a stop.

“Motherfucker!” she protested, wincing from the pain, “You dropped me!”

“You dropped yourself.” Jones corrected, “Where do you think you’re going, huh?” she asked, “You can’t run, you can’t hide...” and bent down to grab her by the handcuffs, “Wasted effort really.”

“I was getting away from you!” Bertha seethed, trying to look back with her cheek on the floor.