Fish: A Memoir of a Boy in Man's Prison

by T. J. Parsell

  When Bottoms yelled up the hall for Black, a guy who was sitting down next to him in a chair looked up. "Bitch! Don't be spittin' them dead babies out your mouth while you're standing over me!"

  Slide Step never would have made me do something like that, even if I was caught cheating on him. I had never thought about it before, but I was curious as to why Bottoms was named that in the first place-since he should have been named something closer to Head or Lips. Slide Step said that only Black tapped that ass, meaning, he would pimp out Bottom's face, but he saved his ass for himself.

  I was surprised at how casually Black had asked Slide Step if he and the others could fuck me before I left for court. If was like he was pointing to Slide Step's tray and saying, "Are you finished with your dessert?"

  I would have asked to be locked up, in solitary confinement, if I thought the gang was going to come after me. But that was assuming I could see it coming before it went down. And of course, that also assumed that the guards would let me. Bottoms said that when he once tried to get into lock-up, the guards told him that if he didn't like fucking no more, then he should go back out on the yard and fight like a man. They weren't going to take up space in segregation for a punk who was having marital problems. Bottoms told me that the worst thing about it was how they told him. "They said it with the door wide open, so that everyone in the dayroom could hear."

  I wasn't sure I believed Bottoms story. There weren't that many guards at Riverside, but I had never seen them act that mean to anyone.

  What if Black and the others got me before I saw it coming? Or what if they drugged me, like Chet had done, by slipping me Thorazine? I thought about locking myself up, while I still had a chance, but if they wouldn't let me, I'd have some explaining to do.

  I wished I had someone to talk to, but my dad used to say that you could tell a lot about someone by the company they kept. I avoided the punks, like Bottoms, because I didn't want to be compared with them. And on the other side, I didn't trust the drag queens because they gossiped too much.

  I was surprised how quickly I forgot about Brett, the stuck-up prick who wouldn't even look at me. Scatter was breathtaking, the way he held my head in his powerful grip and gently stroked my face. I turned toward the wall, knowing all the trouble that he'd already caused me. I placed my hand inside of my pants and pulled to relieve the tension. The light from the hall cast a silhouette on the wall in the shape of my secret lover. The excitement of it, and the danger of being caught, turned me on even more.

  When the guards cleared the 9:30 count, we had an hour and half before we had to return to our cells for the night. In the shower room, I squeezed toothpaste from a tube while Miss Pepper stared at me from three sinks away. I tried to ignore her, but her focus on me was intense. It was as if she was sending energy rays that were burning my face. I struggled to stifle a grin, because she was making me feel kind of silly. I didn't want to encourage her more, so I stuffed the toothbrush in my mouth and started to brush.

  Chet came in and placed his cosmetic bag on the sink next to mine. He hung his blue robe on the hook and stared at himself in the mirror, picking at something in his fake teeth. Slide Step told me to steer clear of him, so I ignored him.

  "So what's up with you and Scatter?" he asked without looking at me.

  I hesitated for a second, but then tried to hide my reaction.

  "What do you mean?" I said with my mouth full of toothpaste.

  "I noticed you two are getting tight. That's all."

  I spit in the sink. "We're homeboys," I said.

  Chet gleamed at me for a moment, and then stared back at himself in the mirror. He took a plastic denture cup from his bag and filled it with water.

  "So what's going on with you and Slide Step?" I asked.

  "You have to ask your man," he glared. "But basically, it's none of your business."

  I cupped my hands under the water and rinsed. "Fine," I said. I regretted having engaged with him in the first place, but he had rattled me by asking about Scatter.

  "What's happening with Brett?" I asked.

  He ignored me at first, placing his teeth in the soapy dish. "Why? Do you want to swap up with him?"

  "hope."

  "Are you sure?'Cause I can set it up, if you want." He stepped closer to me.

  I knew he was just taunting me. He had no intention of setting it up.

  "But you'll have to do me a favor, first." He rubbed my ass.

  "Stop it," I said, slapping his hand away.

  "Or what?" He grabbed my ass again and squeezed. "You'll tell Slide Step?"

  I wrestled with his hand. "Don't think I won't, Chet."

  "Go ahead, and tell him what? I wouldn't let you swap with my boy and you're so desperate that you'll do just about anyone?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about." He twisted my fingers and was bending it backwards. "Stop it!"

  "Are you all right over there?" Miss Pepper asked.

  "Stay out of my business," Chet said.

  "Oh, I'll get in your business," Miss Pepper said. "Don't even try it with me, Chet, because you're all up in Slide Step's business now."

  "Yo!" Someone in the doorway yelled. "Y'all need to hurry up. The line is halfway up to the control center."

  There was usually a wait to get to the sinks at night.

  "Just be careful," Chet said, letting my fingers go.

  "Be careful of what?"

  "Just be careful, that's all." He grabbed his toiletry kit and robe and headed to the showers. "You're not the only one who's got something to tell."

  "What does that mean?"

  His slippers sounded like sandpaper as he crossed the floor.

  Miss Pepper came over and asked if I was OK.

  "Thanks," I nodded. "I just wish he'd go off and die somewhere."

  "Like a mangy-ass, no-good-dawg," Pepper sneered.

  "And he can take his pretty little white boy with him," I added.

  Miss Pepper looked at Chet's teeth that he had left soaking in a tray at the base of the mirror. She smiled and gave me a devilish look.

  When I came out into the hall, I ran into Slide Step and nearly dropped my bag. "There you are!" he said. "I've been looking for you."

  "I was just brushing my teeth and about to go to bed." I explained, nervously.

  "C'mon back down and see me. I need to talk to you."

  "OK," I studied him for some kind of a clue as to what he was thinking. "Can we talk in the morning?"

  "Are you OK? You seem kind of nervous."

  "Nervous!" Red said, passing us in the hall. "The boy is shaking like Don Knotts."

  "I'm not feeling very well, but I'm sure I'll be fine in the morning."

  "OK," Slide Step said. "But we need to talk first thing in the morning."

  "OK," I said. "Good night."

  I scurried away, with a small trail of water dripping from my bag. I made a quick pit stop in the bathroom and went down to the last stall. I had been avoiding that one, nearly since I first got there. It was the stall where I sat on the floor and hugged the bowl, resting my head on the rim, watching the fruit from the spud juice floating on the surface of the water. But this time, it was Chet's teeth in the toilet, resting at the bottom. I pulled the handle and smiled as I watched his dentures whoosh away.

  A few minutes later, when the guards flashed the lights for nightly lockdown, I heard yelling from the end of the hall. I ignored it at first, but then there was laughter, which made whoever was screaming even madder.

  "Whoever took 'em, you dirty cocksuckers, you better put them back 'cause someone's about to leave this motherfucker tonight."

  The angrier Chet became, the funnier the situation was to us inmates.

  "Damn, Dawg!" an inmate called out. "Someone got your teeth? That's fucked up. How you supposed to eat?"

  I lay on my bed and smiled, listening as the guards chased Chet down to his cell. Sleep for me, came fast and sweet.

  The next morning, Slide Ste
p knocked on my door. "C'mon Squeeze. We need to talk." He waited in the doorway as I got dressed. It was unusual for him. He normally waited for me at the end of the hall, since he could be given a ticket for being out of place.

  "Is everything all right?"

  "Just hurry up," he said.

  He said nothing more until we got out to the back porch. He told me to keep an eye out, while he pulled the bench away from the wall and removed a loose brick.

  "Did you take Chet's teeth?" he asked.

  I looked at him for a second. "Is that what this is about?"

  He shook his head, no.

  Concealed in the wall was a steel shank, which had been sharpened in the metal shop. It looked like an ice pick, with a handle that had been made from a ball of masking tape. Slide Step explained that because of its shape, the puncture wounds from the shank couldn't heal.

  "Listen, I want you to go out in the yard until I tell you it's safe."

  "What's going on?" I asked.

  "Me and Red have to go take care of this thing with Chet and Taylor."

  Slide Step wasn't about to let a move on his drug trade go unchallenged, no matter who was involved. I was nervous for him, especially after he had pulled out his shank, but somehow I felt confident that he and Red could handle it. Or maybe I was just relieved that what was about to go down had nothing to do with me.

  I stood there frozen and stared at him.

  "Don't worry Squeeze, they're not gonna do nothin'. I'm taking this just in case. Nobody wants to die up in here today."

  I headed toward the yard as Slide Step had told me, so I wasn't around when whatever went down happened. "If you see Chet coming, I want you to go the other way."

  I nodded.

  "Are you sure you didn't take his teeth?"

  I looked at him without answering at first. "My dad once told me, to never trust a guy who'll tell on himself. Because if he does that-he'll tell on anybody."

  Slide Step looked at me and slowly smiled. "You silly ass knucklehead."

  "I don't know what you're talking about." I smiled back.

  "Listen, we need to talk about something else as well, but it can wait."

  I looked at him and nodded. "Be careful."

  When I got down to the yard, I saw Brett standing over by 9 Building. I wanted to join him, but I had to respect what Slide Step said. What was about to happen was serious, and I wondered what would happen if Chet was seriously injured and had to leave Riverside. Would Slide Step take control of his boy?

  Whatever happened, it didn't mean that Scatter and I were in the clear. I was troubled by Chet's asking me about Scatter. He must have been tipped off somehow.

  The emergency siren began blaring, and guards ran across the yard to 10 Building. My heart started to race. Suddenly it dawned on me: What would become of me if Slide Step got hurt? Who would protect me?

  "Return to your housing units," the voice over the speaker ordered, above the roar of the siren. "All inmates, return immediately to your housing units."

  When I got upstairs, a guard at the top of the landing was sending everyone to the north side. Guards searched inmates as we passed through the corridor.

  At the end of the hall I saw a stretcher and a couple of medics through the guard's station. We were sent to our cells and locked in.

  Looking out the window of my cell, I saw more guards running into the building. Chet and Taylor were being escorted across the yard in handcuffs. A few minutes later, I saw Manley and Red being taken as well. But where was Slide Step?

  I watched the yard while we waited for the guards to clear us from lockdown. There weren't toilets in the single cells and the guards told us to hold it until we were released. "Just piss out the window," my neighbor B.C. yelled.

  I thought about it, but we were on the second floor and the inmates below wouldn't have appreciated it. I was in enough trouble already.

  B.C. was an overweight Mexican who had a crucifix tattooed on his belly. He had it done when he was young, but now that he was fat, it looked more like Buddha on a cross.

  From the vantage point of our windows, we could see the south wing of the building. Inmates hollered back and forth in an effort to piece together what had happened. Someone said they saw Peterson, being escorted across the yard in handcuffs.

  "Peterson?" I yelled. "The guard?"

  "He was dirty," an inmate shouted. "He was caught moving drugs. Chet and Taylor snitched him out!"

  "Snitched him out? Why would they do that?"

  "I dunno. Maybe they thought they'd get an early release out of it."

  "I knew them bitches were snitching," someone yelled.

  "Does anyone know what happened to Slide Step?" I asked.

  "I ain't hip," B.C. said, "but I saw two of his crew being taken to the hole."

  "What about the medic? Do you know what the stretcher was for?"

  "Sure don't," he said, "but it looks like that guard is about to become one of us."

  "How so?"

  "Heroin," he said. He pronounced it Hair 0' Wine. "He'll catch a case and they'll probably give him prison time."

  "They won't just fire him?"

  "They don't fuck around with smack," he said. "Mandatory minimums and shit."

  "Fuck 'em," another inmate shouted. "He should've known not to trust those two ho's from the get go."

  "Chet and Taylor are the ones that snitched on those guys at Jackson, back in '75," someone else said. "For smuggling guns into the prison."

  "Guns?"

  "You didn't know about that?" B.C. said. "That's why they're at Riverside. They turned on a guard and two civilians who helped-thinking they'd get an early parole."

  "How'd they get the guns in?"

  "Laundry baskets," he said. "There were some cons in on it too. They were planning an escape from the North Side of Jackson. Every one of 'em caught a case over it." Meaning, they were prosecuted for a new crime. "Except for Chet and Taylor."

  Inmates talked about catching a case like it was the flu.

  "Shit, there's a bunch of people like to see those two motherfuckers dead."

  "It wouldn't be a bad thing," I said, thinking about what Chet had done to me.

  "I heard that," B.C. chuckled. "I definitely heard that."

  I smiled, picturing Chet's teeth floating in a cesspool.

  It was hard to believe I had been there only three months. I'd been through so much. Remembering that Riverside was a close-custody prison for protection cases, I wanted to ask B.C. if he knew why Slide Step was there, but I didn't want to know. Slide Step was different from the others, and that's all I needed to know.

  I couldn't bring myself to tell Slide Step I didn't want to come back here. My lawyer said after I'm sentenced for the Photo Mat, I'd probably go to minimum-security. To a camp, where I wouldn't need a Man to protect me, since everyone there would be short-within a year or so from parole. But I wasn't out yet. I still had the rest of the day, and night, ahead of me.

  If something bad had happened to Slide Step, I decided I'd lock up for protection or even do something that would get me thrown in the hole. If Slide Step wasn't in the infirmary, maybe I could holler to him from our cells in solitary.

  Just as I was about to piss in my cup, the guards yelled "Clear!" and released us from the cells.

  Some inmates kept jars in their rooms, and I'd see them in the mornings carrying their piss to the toilets. I thought it was disgusting. I'd rather go down to the bathroom in the middle of the night than smell stale piss in my room. When I came out of the head, Slide Step was waiting for me in the hall.

  "Slide Step!"

  "Hey, Squeeze." He smiled at me, though his eyes looked sad and tired.

  "I'm so happy to see you," I said. "I thought you got hurt or something. There was a stretcher and medics, and I saw Chet and Taylor and Red and Manley taken to the hole. When the sirens went off, I got scared, and I asked about you but nobody knew where you were and . . ." I managed to stop and catch my
breath for a second, as I noticed others looking on. "I'm just glad you're all right-that's all."

  "C'mon," he said. He put his hand on my back and walked me into the day room. Although his demeanor appeared serious, there was a touch of gentleness in the way he looked at me. We went out to the back porch again, past the loose brick in the wall where he'd gotten out his shank earlier in the day.

  Slide Step was able to escape the round up, because someone had tipped him off before the guards made their move and starting searching everyone. The medics on the floor, was just a decoy. Manley and Red were caught with shanks.

  "Yo, Sims," he said to a con smoking a cigarette on the bench. "How about givin' me and my boy a little privacy, huh?"

  "Sure, Slide Step, whatever." He tossed his cigarette in the can and left.

  "What's up?" I asked, trying to sound calm. The smoke from the cigarette continued to smolder in the can. Before Slide Step answered, a guard came to take him to the Control Center. "Inspector wants to see you," he said. Slide Step looked at him and nodded. "I'll be back," he said to me. "They probably want to find out if I know something. Hang out in the dayroom till I get back."

  "Is everything OK?"

  "Just hang loose," he said, "We'll hook up later." He gave me a sly glance that indicated sex. It was a look in his eye, a raised eyebrow, and his nostrils slightly flared. He gave me a wink.

  I sat in the day room, as instructed, but a dumb soap opera was on TV. When I was a boy, my mom stood behind the ironing board and sniffled at her stories. I never knew why she cried, but it always made me sad. I looked over at the poolroom. Brett was sitting alone, starring out the window.

  "You all right?" I asked.

  He nodded.

  I racked the balls and chalked my stick. "Sorry to hear about Chet," I lied.

  He didn't respond.

  I broke the balls with a loud crack.

  "It's not Chet I'm worried about," he said.

  "Do you want to play?" I asked, offering him my stick.

  He shook his head, no. His blond hair almost glowed in the light.

  I felt sorry for Brett, not sure what would happen to him now. Chet and Taylor were being held in Administrative Segregation, indefinitely, for their own protection. Word was out that they were snitches, so they weren't coming back to general population. Brett would need a new man. I even felt a tinge of guilt about the mean thoughts I'd had about Brett. It's not like he had any more control around here than I did. I leaned over and banked a ball in the side pocket.