Date: Thu, 4 Apr 2013 09:48:31 -0400 (EDT)
From: ErastesTouch@aol.com
Subject: Different Points of View, chapter 24

Different Points of View - by Erastes
Copyright 2012 by Erastes
Chapter 24 – The Revolving Door.

Even though Roy had tried to get me in trouble, it hadn't worked out the way he
wanted, so now the COs were less likely to listen to anything he had to say about
me.  I'm not sure if Irvin was involved in this, since I only saw Roy talking to the
CO, but Fred had mentioned that the Lieutenant had spoken to each of them as
well, after he had talked to him.  This gave me the impression that Roy had made
it sound as if the complaint was from both of them, whether Irvin had agreed with
him or not.  Roy had even had the nerve to state that Darren would automatically
stick up for me and that fact should cast doubt on what he said, since the
Lieutenant had implied that when he spoke to us.  Now, Roy and Irvin were going
to be perceived as doing the same thing for each other, so they'll probably need
someone else to support any future claims against me.

The way this situation had turned out was good for Darren and me, because the
COs, as well as the Lieutenant and others in charge of the jail, had begun to
perceive us differently now and this brought about a bunch of other changes.
Believe it or not, after this incident occurred I was offered a chance to become a
trusty, since one of the other trusties was about to complete his sentence.  I must
admit that I was flattered by the offer, but I didn't even have to think about
whether or not I should accept it.  I turned the opportunity down immediately,
although I took some time to explain my reasons first, so I didn't offend anyone.

I explained that I thought it would be best for me if I made as little contact with
the rest of the inmate population as possible, since they didn't seem to hold me
in very high regard.  If I were to take the trusty position, it would require me to go
into the other cellblocks to deliver meals, pick up and drop off laundry or possibly
to sweep and mop the public areas around the other cellblocks.  After the show
of hospitality I'd received on my first day at rec, I wasn't about to place myself in
a position where any of these goons could get close enough to do me harm.  No
thank you.  Although I didn't tell them this part, I figured I'd spend my free time
writing and earning money instead.

Those in charge tried to convince me that the COs could handle any situation or
problem that arose, but I merely thanked them for considering me and stated that
I'd rather not be a trusty.  I told them, once again, that I thought it would be best if
I kept a low profile while I was in here, so I'd just stay where I was and wile away
the time the best way I could.

After I had refused their very generous offer, they immediately offered the
position to Darren next.  After they took him out to discuss the situation, Darren
told them he'd have to think about it first and then he'd get back to them, but
before he made up his mind, he really wanted to talk to me first.

"Do you think I should do it?" he confronted me, almost as soon as he entered
the cellblock.

"Darren, I'm not sure I can advise you about what you should do," I began.  "It
would obviously give you an opportunity to get out of our cramped cellblock and
move about a bit, if you don't mind doing whatever job they assign you."

"The work can't be that tough," he informed me.  "I've done jobs that were a lot
worse than anything they have here, so I'm not worried about the work."

"I never suggested it was difficult work, but it will take up a good share of your
day and limit the amount of time you'll be able to do other things, like draw," I
pointed out.  "You'll also get moved out of this cellblock, since the trusties are
housed in a separate area."

"Oh, yeah, I never even thought about that," he shot back.  "So then why don't
we both take the job, since they offered it to each of us?"

"Because there is only one trusty spot opening up," I pointed out.  "Either I can
take it or you can, but we can't both become a trusty."

"Duh!  I don't know what I was thinking," he admitted.

Over the next couple of minutes, he appeared to be considering his options, so
when he looked back at me again, it seemed as if he was expecting me to help
him, so I posed another thought for him to consider.

"Darren, what is your biggest concern about being in here?" I asked next.

"What do you mean?" he countered.

He obviously didn't seem to fully understand the purpose of my question, so I
rephrased it for him.

"What's the thing that scares you the most about being in jail?" I asked, more
directly this time.

Suddenly, a spark of understanding flashed across his face.

"You mean that I'm worried that some guy is going to try to butt-fuck me?" he
offered.

After saying this, he looked directly at my face, to see how I responded to his
question.

"Yes, I think that would sum it up," I confirmed

"What's that got to do with anything?" he wondered.

He still wasn't getting my drift, so I felt I had to lead him to water, in a manner of
speaking.

"Well if you were a trusty, then you'd come into contact with most, if not all, of the
inmates, and not just the ones in this cellblock," I pointed out.  "I just wanted you
to be aware of that fact, before you made up your mind."

"Oh, so you think that if I'm a trusty some guy in one of the other cellblocks might
try to do that to me?" he wondered, while looking at me strangely.

I didn't feel that he was totally agreeing with my logic or what it implied, so I felt I
had to clarify what I was getting at.

"It's not that any of them would be able to get out of their cellblock to harm you,
but if you happened to be close enough, then one of them might be able to reach
out and grab you.  If that were to happen, who knows what he might try to do
next," I pointed out.  "You should consider that possibility, because there are
times when the trusties end up going to one of the cellblocks without a CO being
with them.  You've seen the trusties in here alone when they pick up the trays,
deliver nightly coffee, pick up or deliver the laundry, or when one of them comes
in here to sweep up and mop the public walkway.

"Although you wouldn't be in the cellblock with any of the other guys," I added,
"you'd be close enough where it's possible that someone could grab a hold of
you and then take advantage of the situation.  I'm not saying anything like that
would definitely happen, but I'm merely suggesting that it's possible.  Not only
that, but the trusties are usually unsupervised for most of the day and are housed
in a separate area that is unlocked, except for after lights out, so they are
constantly going in and out of there.  One of them could also try something with
you as well, if you happened to be there with them at some point during the day
when no one else was around."

"I see what you mean.  So you don't think I should do it?" he followed.

"It's not my decision and you'll have to make that choice for yourself," I
answered.  "All I'm doing is pointing out various things you might want to
consider first, before making your decision."

"Bob, won't you help me?" he nearly whined.  "I'd like to do it, but I'm kinda
scared about taking the job now, especially since you've pointed out all of these
different things to me."

"Darren, you'll have to weigh your concerns against the possible advantages for
you and see which you think is greater," I stated.  "If the negatives outweigh the
positives, then don't take the position.  If there are more positives than negatives
for you, then give it a try.  Maybe you'd enjoy being a trusty, since you wouldn't
be locked up all day long."

"Bob, what would you do if you were me?" he pressed.

"Darren, that's just it.  I'm not you," I pointed out, "and I made my decision by
refusing the position when they offered it to me."

"And since you didn't do it, then I probably shouldn't do it either," he stated,
sounding almost dejected.

"I made that decision because I wanted to protect myself and not take
unnecessary chances," I offered.  "I knew that I didn't want to be around any of
those guys who had been yelling obscenities at us, and even though it's not
currently as bad as it was when we first arrived, it doesn't mean they've changed
their opinions about us, only that they've grown bored.  The thing is, seeing you
around might just make them start up again or cause them to try other things.

"Look, it's just my opinion, but I have a feeling that the only reason they stopped
harassing us at night was because they weren't getting enough satisfaction from
doing it to make it worth the effort," I continued.  "That was probably due to the
fact that we didn't give them the types of reactions that they were trying to get
from us, so they soon tired of their little game.  However, if they were able to see
you, face to face, then their abuse might begin all over again, except with more
intensity this time, because they'd be able to see your body language and facial
expressions to tell if they were getting to you.  Not only that, but you may have to
go to the areas where they're keeping the worst inmates and the ones going to
prison, who don't have as much to lose by doing something like that."

"Ok, I see your point and I'll tell them I'm not interested in becoming a trusty," he
confirmed.

"Only do that if it's truly YOUR choice," I reiterated.  "Don't let me talk you out of
doing this, if it's something you really want to try."

"No, you're not talking me out of doing anything, but you have made me think,"
he confessed.  "I trust you and I also value your judgment, so that's why I know
that you're probably right.  If I take the job, I could end up getting shit from
everyone again and I don't want that to happen, so I'm not going to do it.
Thanks, Bob, I really appreciate your help."

I thought he was nearly about to hug me, but then he suddenly seemed to
remember where he was, or possibly who he was about to hug, so he stopped
before he actually did anything.  Since this minor crisis had now been resolved,
we returned to our individual tasks.

It was now early November and Fred pointed out that he would be getting
released in a few more days.  With time off of his sentence for good behavior, he
had just about served his entire sentence, so he would soon be a free man
again.  He explained to us that an inmate could be released at one minute after
midnight, once he had served the last day of his sentence, but only if he had
someone there to pick him up.  Otherwise, the policy was that the inmate would
be let out at 8:00 that morning.  We asked him if he had someone coming to pick
him up and he explained that his girlfriend and he had made up, so she was
going to come get him.  Obviously, she felt he had paid for whatever injustice she
thought he had committed and was now willing to forgive and forget.  We were
just a little surprised that Fred was willing to do the same.

After hearing Fred's story, I realized how truly fortunate I was, even considering
the predicament I was in.  Most of the guys in here would get out of jail and have
nothing to look forward to, because their jobs were most likely no longer available
and it was possible that some of them wouldn't even have a place to live after
they were released.  Fred told us that he would have to try to find work once he
was on the outside again, but at least his girlfriend had agreed to take him back,
so he had a place to stay.

This caused me to think about Darren's situation.  Even though I didn't say
anything to him or attempt to pry into his personal life, I wondered what he was
going to do when his time was up.  He had mentioned that his parents lived quite
a long distance away from here and he'd lost his job after he was arrested.  The
only information I had about his living arrangements was what he had told me
when he explained that he'd been sharing an apartment with the guys he'd been
out drinking with, the night he got arrested.  However, since his belongings were
now stored at my place, I didn't really think they'd be willing to take him back
when he was released.  I even wondered if they had already found someone else
to move in and pay that portion of the rent, since none of them had seemed
eager to pay a little extra and help cover for Darren until he got out.

As Fred's final day with us approached, I decided that we should throw him a
little 'going away' party.  Just before he was to be released, we had another
chance to make purchases from the inmate store, so I ordered two pizzas and
several drinks.  I was going to keep this to just the three of us, but then I thought
doing that would be rude and I might be able to build a little good will with
Tweedledum and Tweedledumber by inviting them to join in.  Therefore, when
the goodies were delivered, I told Roy and Irvin what we were doing and asked
them to join us.  They eyed us suspiciously for a few seconds at first, before Irvin
came over to where we had things set up on one of the tables.  In the end, he
merely took a slice and a drink, said so long to Fred and then walked back to his
end of the cellblock, but Roy didn't come down to join us.  So much for building a
little good will.

As he was saying his farewells, Fred gave Darren the deck of cards we'd all been
using and his goodbye was quite touching, but he didn't get overly sentimental.  It
did, however, seem as if he was doing more than just saying farewell to a couple
of random acquaintances though, at least when he said so long to both Darren
and me, but then he only gave a cursory wave goodbye to the other pair.  When
we were locked in at 11:00 that evening, Fred was confined to his cell too, but an
hour later one of the guards came back to get him and he was taken to the
administrative section to be processed out.

As he carried his bag of belongings and other things past our cells, he waved at
Darren and I once more and then disappeared from sight.  From my
understanding about how the release process works, he would be given back the
items that were taken from him on the day he entered jail, have to sign some
paperwork and then he'd be allowed to leave with his girlfriend.  I think Darren
and I were both happy for him, but it also made us long, even more, for the day
when we would get out of here as well.  Now, the odds in our cellblock had
suddenly shifted from being in our favor to being evenly split, so the next inmate
to be placed in Fred's old cell would determine if we were going to be in the
minority or majority from that point forward.

The next couple of days were a little tense, since it was just Darren and I with the
dumbbell duo.  Since they were both bigger than us, probably stronger as well,
along with being more experienced in taking part in brawls, we were afraid they
might try something.  Seeing there weren't any beer bottles available for Darren
to use to defend himself, the odds were definitely in their favor.  Not only that, but
we figured if they did decide to act now, they would probably also attempt to
blame us for starting it, so they'd be able to get their licks in and then possibly
avoid getting into trouble for doing it.

Since we were so concerned about something happening, we spent most of our
time in my cell and only ventured out to the common area to pick up our trays
and eat.  We figured this would benefit us in a couple of different ways.  First, it
would be tougher for them to argue that we'd started something, if it took place in
my cell, and second, there would be less room for them to maneuver in this
confined area.  Since the cell is so cramped, it would limit what they would be
able to do to us, because it's really too small for both of them to squeeze in,
especially with Darren and I both in there as well.  This means we might be able
to take care of the first guy that entered, before the other one was able to reach
us.  It wasn't a perfect solution, but it would limit the degree of potential damage,
if this was what they had up their sleeves.

After a couple days of this tense standoff, a new guy was brought to our
cellblock.  He was probably in his late thirties or early forties, had a beard and a
few tattoos that we could see, but there might have been others as well.  It also
appeared as if he might have had some piercings that he'd had to remove before
he was put in here, since I thought I noticed a spot above his eyebrow and
another on his nose that might have once been adorned with a piece of
decorative jewelry.  He didn't initially say anything to any of us, but Darren and I
didn't want to make any unfounded determinations about him either, based solely
on his appearance.  We planned to keep an open mind and give him a chance
first, since we were well aware of what it was like to have people make snap
judgments about us.

He stopped by to chat with us, once he got settled in his cell.  He told us his
name was Sid, so we all shook hands and then we chatted for a while.  Darren
and I answered nearly all of his questions and tried to see what he was like, but it
didn't take long before it became fairly obvious that we weren't the type of people
he generally hung around with.  For the most part, Darren and I had very little
interest in the topics that he wanted to discuss and sometimes we didn't even
know anything about the subjects he found interesting.

Darren and I tried to be polite and did our best not to offend him, but he quickly
figured out that we couldn't really discuss, at least not intelligently, the types of
things he was interested in.  Since he had a similar problem, in that he didn't
really care about the things we were interested in or the topics we talked about, it
didn't take long before he started spending even more of his time with Irvin and
Roy.  Apparently, they had more in common with him and were able to agree on
subjects they all found interesting.

The next couple of weeks passed without incident, but it seemed apparent that
Sid was growing even closer to the other pair.  After he went out to rec a few
times, he also began giving me some strange looks, so Darren and I figured
someone had informed him about my background.  He shot us a few intense
glares and seemed to be carefully scrutinizing us at times, so it was almost as if
he were attempting to gauge our relationship, as well as take note of our
reactions to what he was doing.  I understood this to mean that he really didn't
approve of us, so now I just had to wait and see if anything would come from it.

As Thanksgiving approached, I think we all began to realize that there was no
worse time to be locked up and separated from the people we loved and cared
about than during a major holiday.  For that reason, this time of year is
notoriously very tough on those in prisons and jails, because the inmates
seemed to be constantly bombarded by a variety of reminders about what they
were missing out on.  Therefore, the number of those suffering from depression
seemed to spike with the start of the holiday season and things didn't return to
normal again until the following spring.

This situation was brought about in many ways and could be triggered by
something as simple as a news broadcast, where the reporters were telling about
various seasonal preparations and activities going on in the area, or it could be
brought about by commercials for holiday gifts or upcoming Christmas specials.
Being reminded that this was a very festive time of year often caused many of
the inmates to think about their own families and the celebrations they had
enjoyed in the past, and then they would be overwhelmed with remorse that they
would be missing out on those activities this year.

For others, those same newscasts and commercials only served to glaringly
point out the fact that they didn't have any others with whom they shared their life
or were close to, which in turn explained why they didn't have the same
wonderful memories that everyone else cherished.  For those reasons, they often
ended up becoming bitter about how unfairly their lives had turned out.

Being incarcerated seemed to magnify these feelings, so some of the inmates
became morose and withdrew into a shell, while others struck out at those they
resented, primarily for having the things in life that they never had, but wanted.
The jails and prisons were loaded with ticking time bombs, so to speak, so those
in charge did what they could to relieve the tension and keep the situation from
exploding.

Both Darren and I also realized that this was a very special time and one we
should be spending with our family and friends.  We longed to enjoy this
wonderful time of year with those we loved, instead of being locked up with a
bunch of strangers, basically isolated and alone.  Don't get me wrong, because
neither of us blamed anyone else for our current situation, because we knew that
being here was entirely our fault and the result of our own actions, but it didn't
make the situation any easier to endure.

Suddenly, we found ourselves walking on eggshells, because everyone in this
place was either suddenly more depressed than usual or in a worse mood than
normal.  This meant they would often react, and even lash out, as the result of
even the smallest occurrence, and this included Sid and the dumbbell duo.  Over
the past couple of days, they had exchanged more than a few harsh words with
each other, sometimes over something as simple as a card game or a
conversation they'd been having.  Since they seemed to be unusually volatile,
Darren and I sought refuge in my cell.  We definitely felt safer doing this and
keeping a buffer between them and us, as well as trying to remain in a position
where we could help stand up for each other, if a problem arose.

There was a minor bright spot during this otherwise somber period and that
happened when the rumor mill informed us that the jail staff was planning on
serving, more or less, a traditional Thanksgiving meal.  Even though we knew
that an institutionally prepared meal couldn't compare to a loved one's cooking, it
would still be better than the alternative of not doing anything special for the
holiday.  I felt the staff should at least be commended for their good intentions,
because this would most likely help to lessen the feeling that those in here were
entirely missing out on this special celebration.

As I fell asleep on the night before the holiday, I pictured many of the things I had
done during past Thanksgivings, such as assisting in the preparation of the food
and enjoying the family dinners, but these memories made me even more
homesick than I was before.  It also made me wonder if Sherry was going to be
fixing a big meal for her family – I assumed she probably would.  Then, I began
to wonder how the boys and she were doing and if things were going well for
them, because I only wished them the best.

No matter what had happened, I didn't hate Sherry or the boys and still thought
about them constantly.  I just prayed that someday we might be able to put the
past behind us and, hopefully, resume the type of relationship we'd enjoyed
before this happened, because I cherished every second I'd spent with them.  I
missed the father-son bonds I had shared with Jared, and even Josh, and in fact
it was what I missed the most about being stuck in this depressing place.  Even
though Darren and I got along well and he even seemed somewhat dependent
on me, it just wasn't the same and I couldn't stop thinking about Jared and Josh
and wishing I was with them again.

Darren also seemed to be having problems coping with being incarcerated during
the holiday and I could see that he was trying his best to use his artwork as a
release valve.  Utilizing his extraordinary talent, he drew a picture of a family
enjoying Thanksgiving dinner, most likely based on a celebration from his past, in
which he showed an extended family gathered around the table, sharing the
bounty of the day.  Even though he now lived far away from his parents, he had
told me that he still managed to find a way to get home for Thanksgiving and
Christmas every year, so this would be the very first holiday that they wouldn't be
together.

I believe this was what prompted him to confront me after lunch, because for
some reason he felt that he had to make sure we ate together tomorrow.  He
even asked if we could eat in my cell, rather than in the common area, because
he thought it would be more enjoyable if we didn't have the others watching us.
If we weren't out where they could see us, Darren figured those guys would be
less likely to interfere with our private celebration or manage to ruin the day for
us, so I agreed that I would like to do this as well.  My reassurance seemed to
make him feel a little better for the time being, so now I was even beginning to
look forward to sharing this meal with him and having us serve as each other's
family.

Later, after we finished eating our dinner, Darren joined me in my cell again, but
this time he didn't have his sketchpad with him.  I thought this was a little odd,
since he usually worked on one of his drawings while I wrote, but this time it
appeared as if something else was on his mind.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, while hoping he might reveal his problem.

"Kinda," was his curt reply.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I pressed, since he seemed hesitant about
bringing up whatever was on his mind.

"I was thinking about the holiday tomorrow and it kinda made me start wondering
about what I was going to do when I got out of here," he admitted.  "I know
there's a lot of time before that happens, but I won't have a job and I'm more than
a little pissed off at my old roommates.  After all of the letters I sent them asking
for their help, they've turned their backs on me, so I'm not going to have any
place to live either.  I thought they were my friends, but friends don't do that to
you.

"What the hell am I supposed to do when I get out of here?" he continued.  "I
don't have enough money to go back home to stay with my parents and I doubt
they can help me either, but I really don't want to go back there to live with them.
I know they'd take me back, if I asked them to, but I'm not thrilled about the idea
of having to move in with the 'rents again, especially since I've enjoyed being on
my own for a while now.  If I did end up going back there, then they'd probably
give me a ton of crap about what I did and the trouble it got me into.  If I had a
choice, I'd prefer to continue living around here, because I like this area and the
weather's a lot better too."

I basically just let him unload on me and didn't say much, because I wanted to
give him a chance to work this out for himself.  I did tell him one thing, however.

"Darren, you've got quite a bit of time to think about what you're going to do when
you get released," I advised him, "and I've learned that solutions have a way of
presenting themselves when you least expect them.  I'd suggest that you quit
worrying about this for now and we'll talk about it again, when we get closer to
that time.  Is that ok with you?"

He agreed, so I urged him to sit down at the table in my cell, so we could play
cards for a while.  When he finally left, just before lights out, I think he was feeling
a little better, although he still wasn't quite out of the woods yet.

Thanksgiving Day started out the same as any other; up early, shave if you want,
followed by breakfast.  Most days we'd been given cereal, eggs and toast to start
our days, but there were rare occasions when they gave us pancakes instead.
Today was really special, because we were served French toast.  They had used
plain, white bread to make it, instead of a thicker variety, but it wasn't bad.  They
also gave us a small packet of syrup to go along with it, a couple of sausage
links, two strips of bacon and a scoop of scrambled eggs, so it was quite a bit
more than usual and a nice change of pace.

After breakfast, we all watched the Thanksgiving Day parade on television.
Since the day had started out so well and the others in our cellblock seemed to
be in a fairly good mood, Darren and I decided to take a chance and do this as
well.  We felt it would still be prudent, however, to sit at the middle table and
enjoy the long-range view of the screen, so we didn't do anything to upset the
other three.  We were mildly concerned that they could still suddenly turn on us,
although we were hopeful that today they might be on their best behavior and not
think about doing anything like that.  We would, however, still remain alert and
not let our guard down completely.

Even though we didn't watch television very often, we could generally still hear
whatever was on.  For that reason, I actually considered it fortunate that the
guards controlled what we were allowed to watch.  I strongly suspected that if
they didn't control what was on then we'd probably be listening to the screaming
threats of professional wrestlers, the verbal and physical sparring of Jerry
Springer's guests or the outlandish antics on the 'World's Dumbest' all day long.
Anyway, we watched the parade until around noon and then shortly after it ended
a football game came on.

We had watched the pre-game show and first-half before lunch was finally
served.  This was considerably later than our normal time, but since we'd had a
big breakfast, no one complained and we soon discovered why this meal arrived
over an hour late.  It turned out that this was our holiday dinner and it actually
looked pretty good.  Each tray had a couple of good-sized slices of turkey on it, a
large helping of mashed potatoes with gravy, stuffing, a couple of slices of jellied
cranberries, a dinner roll and milk.  There was also a separate paper bowl filled
with a tossed salad and a small paper plate with a decent size piece of pumpkin
pie on it.

Since Darren had asked if we could eat this meal in my cell, we sat our trays on
the small table, but there were just too many items this time to fit on this small
area, because there were more items than would fit on the tray.  Therefore, we
temporarily set our pie plates on my bunk and agreed that we would hold the
paper salad bowl in one hand while we dined.

Before we began to eat though, Darren asked if he could say grace first, since he
generally did this at his family gatherings.  Seeing this appeared to be import, I
told him that would be fine and bowed my head as he whispered the blessing.
He lowered his voice this way because he didn't want Frick and Frack, along with
their new sidekick, to hear what he was doing.  He was afraid that if they heard
him saying grace, they would make fun of him for praying too, along with
everything else.

"Our Heavenly Father, I know most of the guys in here don't think there is
anything to be thankful for," he began, "but I'm thankful that I got put in a
cellblock with Bob.  This would be a lot worse place to be, if Bob wasn't looking
out for me and doing so much to help me out.  I'm also thankful for this nice
meal, since it looks a lot better than what we usually get.  Amen."

"Lord, I'd like to second Darren's comment about the meal," I quickly added, in
the same hushed tone, "and I'm also grateful that Darren and I ended up in the
same cellblock.  I'm convinced that if it hadn't worked out this way, then I would
have gone completely bonkers by now.  I'm extremely grateful that he was willing
to overlook what I'd done and offered to be my friend.  Amen."

I think Darren was surprised that I'd added to what he'd said, but he looked so
incredibly pleased and happy at this moment that I was glad I had offered my
own two-cents worth.  After taking a few more seconds to stare at each other in
appreciation, we began to eat our salad, and once that was gone, we turned our
attention to the trays and settled in to enjoy the main course.

We chatted while we ate and discussed what we remembered from previous
Thanksgiving dinners with our loved ones.  Not only was the conversation
enjoyable, and sometimes humorous, but the meal was also the best one we'd
had since we'd been here.  There was plenty of food, it was all fairly tasty and the
pumpkin pie topped the meal off beautifully.  Not only that, but when we walked
away from the table, we actually felt full for a change.

Once we put our trays out for the trusty to pick up, we were ready to kick back
and watch the second-half of the football game, but we did it from a relatively
safe distance, like we had with the parade and first-half.  Darren and I also chose
to cheer quietly, because we were supporting the team the others were rooting
against.  When the game was over, Darren and I both chuckled quietly to
ourselves, because our team had won, much to the chagrin of the other three.

Later that evening, we were brought a very simple dinner, but none of us minded,
because we'd had a wonderful holiday lunch.  Dinner consisted of a bowl of
tomato soup, a grilled cheese sandwich, some pickles, a scoop of baked beans
and another of pudding, along with a carton of milk.  Since we were still
somewhat full from lunch, this turned out to be all we needed and held us over
nicely until we went to bed.

It was during the remainder of the Thanksgiving holiday when it dawned on me
about what bothered the inmates the most about being incarcerated, especially
during this time of year, and it wasn't merely the seasonal reminders.  Even
though we'd heard guys say they could do a year standing on their heads, we
discovered that wasn't exactly true, because eventually the long stints of being
locked up began to wear them down.  Sure they could do the time, but they still
had to cope with the frustration that arose from being apart from their loved ones,
which was greatly magnified during the holiday season.  When you added that to
the fact that they couldn't do what they wanted and when they wanted, it was
more than most could bear.

The various things they missed doing included such simple tasks as being able
to decide when they wanted to get up, when they wanted to shower, what they
wanted to eat and what television programs they wanted to watch.  It also
included a bunch of other factors, such as not being able to go down to the local
pub for a brew or grab one from the fridge, not being able to select whom they
wanted as neighbors, or in this case cellmates, not being able to go out for a
walk, either for exercise or just to get a breath of fresh air, as well as not being
able to stay up as late as they wanted.

When you added up all of those restrictions to the sexual frustration most of them
felt by not having any method of release, other than their own hand, it tormented
some of these poor souls to the breaking point.  Maybe that's why they turned on
each other or chose other inmates they could abuse, in order to release some of
the pent up frustration they were feeling.

The rest of the weekend didn't go much better, because there were constant
reminders of what we were missing out on during this long holiday weekend.
The television seemed to constantly bombard us with stories about how most
families were enjoying the holiday with each other, but there were a slew of other
factors as well.  The newscasts were also busy telling us about how hectic it was
in the stores, as shoppers got an early jump on filling their family's Christmas
lists, and there were Christmas oriented commercials that reminded us that this
wasn't over yet and there was even more that most of us were going to be
missing out on.

Even throughout the college football games, which were a highly anticipated and
greatly valued source of entertainment for us, those contests also served to
remind us about just how much fun the rest of the country was having, while we
were stuck here.  During the Thursday, Friday and Saturday games, the various
cameramen would often highlight the Santa look-alikes in the crowd, as well as
zoon in on any fans that were merely decked out in Santa caps or dressed as an
elf.

The halftime shows would also incorporate Santa as part of the festivities, as well
as having the bands play Christmas music, and everyone at the stadium seemed
to be having a wonderful time.  It wasn't as if any of us still believed in Santa, but
it did seem to emphasize the fact that we were missing out on all of the fun the
rest of the country was enjoying, while we were restrained behind cement walls,
steel bars and locked doors, in a place we didn't want to be.

Since we found ourselves trapped in this humdrum existence, I began to observe
the signs of obvious depression that were becoming even more noticeable
among the other inmates.  This wasn't only happening to the others in my
cellblock, but I was also noticing it whenever I got a glimpse of the other inmates
when they were out in the yard during their rec time.  Even the trusties, who had
it a lot better than the rest of us, also seemed lethargic and moody as they
moved about doing their jobs.

Seeing this helped me to understand why the disenfranchised, the infirmed and
the elderly often become so depressed during the holiday season.  It's not easy
watching others having such a great time and doing so many interesting things,
while you are confined to your home or an institution due to illness, injury or just
from a lack of having anyone to do things with or for you.

Most people don't realize it, but there are a great many people who have little or
no contact with the rest of society and are isolated to nearly the same extent as a
prison inmate and that's what makes them begin to despair and lose all hope.  It
is why the suicide rate seems to skyrocket during this time of year, when the
people who are having the most difficulty coping with the loneliness and
depression seek other avenues of escape.  It's a very sad commentary on our
society when this happens, but now I think I have a slightly better understanding
of what tempts them to make such a fatal choice.

We had just finished our Saturday dinner and placed our dirty trays on the ledge
for the trusty to collect, when the football game that was on ended and the
evening news came on.  Darren and I weren't really paying attention to the
television any longer, even though we had stayed out in the common area, but
that was merely to break the monotony of being stuck in that tiny cell for so many
hours every day.  Darren and I had moved down to the table farthest away from
the TV after we took our trays back and merely decided to play cards for a while,
for something different to do today.

Part of the reason I had suggested this to Darren was because I was having a
problem with my story and needed to get away from dealing with it for a while, in
order to clear my mind.  I was having trouble coming up with a good transition
that would take me from the action that I had just finished writing and would lead
to what was coming next, without it sounding repetitious or mundane.  Therefore,
I thought a little distraction might be good, so I talked Darren into taking a break
and doing this for a while.  I was hoping it would be relaxing and keep me from
focusing on the problem I was having, because I often seem to come up with the
solutions to these dilemmas when I'm not so focused on the problem.

I happened to be sitting so I could see the other three, when I noticed they
seemed to be getting very agitated for some reason.  Suddenly, they began
raising their voices, pointing at the television screen and before long they started
turning and glaring in our direction as well.  I wasn't sure what had prompted
them to suddenly shift their attention toward us, but while I was considering this,
Sid stood up and then began walking in our direction.

"Fuckers like you don't deserve to live and need to die before you can do things
like that!" he screamed, before he had even walked more than a few steps.

I had no idea what he was talking about, but as I looked past him, I saw that Roy
and Irvin had stood up as well.  They remained where they were though, while
they watched what Sid was up to.  I wished that I knew what had gotten them so
riled up, but after hearing Sid's tirade, I knew it wasn't good.  Since Sid was even
closer to us now, I stood up and got ready for the worse case scenario, because
it seemed as if that was what was coming.  Darren stood up too, but he was
looking at me strangely and wondering what we were going to do.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked, in response to Sid's outburst.

I was hoping he would tell me what his problem was and give me some idea as
to what his next move might be.

"Another sick bastard raped and then killed a little kid," he spat out.  "Maybe I
can't take care of him, but I can sure as hell make sure you don't ever get a
chance to do anything like that to another innocent child."

As the final syllable escaped from his lips, Sid suddenly charged me, fists flying.
Fortunately, he wasn't as big as Roy, so I was able to withstand his initial attack,
but he landed quite a few blows before I was able to start fighting back.  Once I
had taken the brunt of his initial attack, I was able to get in a few good licks of my
own, which seemed to surprise him, because he acted as if he wasn't expecting
me to fight back.  Now, we were wrestling around, trying to gain any advantage
we could, until we found a way to win this scrap.

Once the fists began flying, Darren lost it and began to totally flip out.  He was
screaming at Sid to stop and for someone to help out, and once we stopped
throwing punches and were merely grappling with each other, Darren tried to
help me subdue Sid.  He was standing perpendicular to us at the time, so he was
able to see that Roy and Irvin were now moving toward us as well.  Since he was
afraid they were coming to help Sid attack me, he courageously jumped in front
of them and tried to block their progress.  When they tried to push him out of the
way, Darren began to scream for the COs to come help us.

When the guys from the other cellblocks heard this commotion, they began
yelling over to see if they could discover what was going on, so Irvin and Roy
happily explained that Sid and I were fighting.  This caused the other inmates to
immediately start urging Sid on and telling him to take care of 'the baby raper,'
once and for all.


I would love to hear your feedback concerning this story.  Please email your
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