Marching Powder

by Rusty Young

  In the early morning, when I was delirious from tiredness and from thinking for so long, I made a promise to God: if He let me go free, I would never touch or sell cocaine in my life ever again. When I got out, I would try to help people and do some good in the world. After that promise to God, I made another one: if the judges found me guilty, I would escape. And if I couldn’t escape, I would kill myself.

  51

  VERDICT

  I was barely awake the following morning when the time came for the guards to put me in the transport van. But I was calm. The money that Rusty had collected and that my tourist friends had sent from around the world wasn’t enough but we had done all that we could. What happened from now on was no longer up to either of us.

  Rusty was waiting for me in the corridor of the courtroom. He looked like he hadn’t slept either.

  ‘Didn’t you get my messages?’ he said worriedly, but my police escorts wouldn’t let me talk with him. They led me towards the holding cell. Rusty followed us as far as they would let him.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ I said to him. ‘It will all turn out OK.’

  Rusty wasn’t reassured by this. He was convinced they were going to convict me.

  The judges wouldn’t look at me when they came in to read out the verdict. I was having trouble paying attention as they began the formalities of restating the charges and the evidence that had been presented to them. I only heard one word of what they said: ‘inocente’. I couldn’t believe it.

  ‘Gracias a Dios,’ someone said loudly. Cheers went up on the other side of the room. I looked over and saw the Velascos hugging each other, still with their handcuffs on. Their lawyer patted them on the shoulder and smiled.

  I was free! Suddenly, I had another thought and panicked: what if the finding of innocence only applied to the charges against the Velascos? I began listening intently to the rest of the judgment, but then Jorge Velascos winked at me and I knew I had got off too.

  The judges delayed another week before signing my release papers. In the meantime, I had to promise to get them the rest of the money as soon as I got out. They gave me a conditional release – I was free, but I couldn’t leave the country. On the day I left prison, I had a big party. Giles and Sole, two tourists who had visited me many times, arrived with Rusty to help me pack my possessions. It wasn’t as large a send-off as Ricardo had, but walking out through those gates was one of the happiest moments of my life. My legs collapsed from under me and I had to clutch on to Giles to stop myself from falling over. I never thought they would let me out of that place.

  I left San Pedro prison the same way as I arrived – by taxi, without a cent in my pocket. Only this time I had my friends with me and the police had let me keep my possessions. There was Rusty, Giles, Sole and me. All four of us were squashed into the back seat of the taxi with our arms around each other’s shoulder. The front passenger seat was empty. As we drove off, I felt like I should have been crying, but I wasn’t. I had a sudden desire to turn around and wave to the prison through the rear window, but I stopped myself. I didn’t want to look back. I would miss my friends in San Pedro, but I never wanted to see that place again.

  What was I going to do? One thing was for certain: I wanted to keep my promise not to go back to trafficking. It was going to be hard – it was all I’d known my entire adult life – but I was determined to try. Apart from that, I had no real plans and I wasn’t in a hurry to make any big decisions. Coming out of prison is completely overwhelming – when you’re inside, it’s like being frozen while the world goes on without you. But then they unfreeze you and expect you to fit straight back into the world, as though nothing had happened.

  Anyway, I didn’t want to think about these things too much. I owed Rusty a few drinks for his help and that’s all I cared about right then. We were going to a bar to celebrate. After that, who knew where I would go? Maybe I could try to remake my life in England, if I could get the money together for a flight. One of the backpackers might be able to help me get a job somewhere. I might even look up Yasheeda in Israel. I wondered if she still thought about me once in a while. I hoped so. I know I still thought about her …

  Thomas McFadden was released from San Pedro prison on 28 December 2000, having completed four years and eight months of his original sentence. He left Bolivia without paying the rest of the bribe to the judges.

  Following Thomas’s release, the San Pedro prison tours continued in spite of a new sign on the outside wall officially proclaiming, ‘No Foreigners Allowed’. The principal tour guide was David Cordero, alias Fantasma, who worked under an assumed name.

  The Bolivian government continues to deny that inmates are obliged to purchase their own prison cells.

  Several hundred women and children still live inside San Pedro.

  Acknowledgements

  Rusty wishes to express his deep gratitude to Simone Camilleri, without whom this book would not have begun or ended.

  Thomas also wishes to thank Simone, as well as Prisoners Abroad for their kind assistance during his imprisonment.