Black Tears

by Woods, Karen

  Prisoners shouted from their cells as they heard the new inmates approaching and some of them even sang songs at the top of their voices. The screw escorted the first two men to a door and opened it slowly before he spoke.

  “Right you two, this is your pad. Unpack all ya shit in the morning, just get ya heads down for now.” Gordon peered into the cell and could see two beds with grey blankets thrown over them and a small wooden cupboard situated in the corner. The walls were the same as the landings but painted in a battleship grey colour. The side light barely lit the room. The two guys, who were in their mid twenties, trudged into the pad and the screw quickly locked the door behind them giving them no time to speak. The rest of the inmates followed him to another cell a couple of doors down. The screw told Gordon and another prisoner this was their pad. Gordon took a deep breath as he watched him slowly unlock the door and escort them in. The room was the same as the one he had just seen and he made eye contact with the other inmate for the first time. Within seconds, the screw was gone and all you could hear was the door being banged behind them. Gordon felt suffocated and found it hard to breathe as he poked his head through the small window that was secured by bars. It was between the two beds and it was the only view they had from their cell. Gordon felt the cold night air on his face as he looked through it looking at the other wings and the prison grounds. As he stood there, he closed his eyes and felt the emotions rise within him. He knew he couldn’t break down and cry because he could feel the other inmate’s eyes drilling into the back of his head watching his every move. After a few more deep breaths, Gordon turned to face the man for the first time. Words were few between them at first but as soon as they both lay on their beds, they stated to talk freely.

  “Well what you in for then?” Gordon asked with a serious face hoping the lad was not in for some big time murder. The other man fidgeted for a moment and folded his wafer thin pillow under his head before he began to talk.

  “Fucking drugs mate. I was caught with a load of coke in my car. They got me bang to rights; there was nothing I could do about it. They’d been watching me for weeks and had loads of evidence, like photos and video evidence. Fucking gutted mate, I can tell ya. If the sniff had hit the streets, I would have been on a right little earner. But all good things come to an end don’t they? Anyway, three years isn’t that long when ya think about it. It could have been a lot worse, but I threw a guilty plea in as soon as possible and probably saved some time being shoved up my arse if it had gone to trial.”

  Gordon listened to his every word and the word coke made him realise that his own addiction was over. It was a blessing in disguise and he knew the next few weeks would be hard without his magic dust to help him along. The inmate then introduced himself as Joey, but he told Gordon all his mates called him Tigger and he preferred that name. It was only his mam and close family who had called him by his Christian name and to tell you the truth he hated it. Gordon now introduced himself and told Tigger he was in for fighting and nearly killing someone. He didn’t mention it was his ex girlfriend who he’d tried to kill, or the rape episode. He wanted to keep his cards close to his chest because he knew if word got out that he’d raped someone, the prisoners would make his life a misery as he’d heard many stories about what happened to rapists and kiddie fiddlers in jail. Gordon didn’t really class himself as a rapist and could never understand why he’d ever been charged with it. After all, she’d been his girlfriend at the time, or so he thought, and what was the harm of a bit of slap and tickle for old time’s sake. It couldn’t really be classed as rape, could it? Lying on his bed, he pulled the scruffy, stinking blanket over himself as if it was a sheet of forgiveness and tried to hide away from the true facts.

  Sleep came easily to Gordon and Tigger as they were both knackered, and within minutes, they were both asleep. The midnight air crept in through the open window as they slept and caused them both to bury their heads deep under their covers. The noise of shouting throughout the prison eventually eased off and silence filled the walls.

  Morning came with the sound of doors being banged and woke Gordon from his sleep. As he listened, he could hear people shouting and footsteps going past his door. He stretched and the reality of where he actually was hit home. His stomach felt like a lead balloon and the ache he felt in his heart was like nothing he’d ever felt before. Misty was still on his mind every minute of the day and his feelings were mixed about her. Half of him wanted to cherish her forever and the other half wanted to destroy her. It was her fault he was in prison and somehow he knew she would pay big time. Looking across the room, he noticed Tigger waking, and smiled as their eyes met before he spoke.

  “Wakey! Wakey! Welcome to Hotel Strangeways. Should I go and put our towels on the sun loungers by the pool, while you order breakfast?” Tigger smiled but you could tell he too had realised this was no holiday camp and the years that lay ahead of him would be no picnic.

  The door opened and the screw shouted. “Come on lad’s, time to get ya brekkie.” The man looked just the same as all the others and he was wearing black pants with a white shirt. The keys that he had hanging from his trouser pocket were the size of a football, and you could see that they were a strain to carry. Gordon was the first to jump up out of bed, shortly followed by Tigger. As they left their cell for the first time, they could see hundreds of bodies scattered around the different landings. The landing looked so much bigger than it had the previous night, and Gordon couldn’t believe that inmates were cleaning it so early in the morning. The screw led them to the dining area in which hundreds of tables were placed together. He showed them where to queue up for their breakfast and left them looking like lost sheep. Gordon continued in the line and when it was finally his turn the older man behind the serving counter asked him what he wanted for breakfast. Gordon’s eyes scanned the contents of what was on offer and couldn’t really make up his mind, as it all looked like shite. The porridge looked like mush, and the eggs looked like they had been cooked three weeks before. The server, who was also an inmate, now looked at him and you could tell he was losing patience.

  “Fucking hurry up ay, there’s not just you who’s hungry. I’ve got all these other people to feed so make it quick.” Gordon looked at him as his blood boiled with anger, but he knew there was nothing he could do at the moment, so with a cocky face he looked straight at him and told him he would have egg on toast. The fat sweaty server now threw two eggs on two pieces of burnt toast and slid it under the glass-serving hatch.

  “Next!” he shouted looking straight at Tigger, who knew not to hang around and ordered the same as Gordon. They both got a brew each and found two seats at the end of a table. As they sat down the other men stopped eating and looked at the two new inmates. Gordon could feel fear and hoped there wouldn’t be any trouble. Tigger broke the silence and introduced himself to the others sat at the table.

  “Alright lads, don’t mind if we sit here do ya?” The men looked at each other and carried on talking. Tigger and Gordon were now accepted as inmates. Gordon dug his fork into the egg, and looked at Tigger.

  “Fucking food is shite. Look at my egg. It’s as hard as that mean looking fucker sat over there.” Tigger laughed as his eyes focused on a large man facing them on the next table. The man looked about twenty stone and his t-shirt barely covered his hairy stomach. His eyes had that hard look and they knew not to mess with him. Tigger watched as Gordon played with the food on his plate looking at the shite that lay in front of him. He laughed and told Gordon he best get used to the prison’s menu because five years is a long time to be fussy about prison scran.

  The noise of everyone eating was deafening. The canteen was filled with talking and knives and forks being clashed together. The men seemed to be watching their backs all the time and couldn’t afford to turn away for one moment. Gordon sipped his brew and scanned round the prison, looking at all the different faces and characters present. As he looked at them, he wondered why on earth they were in
prison. Some of them looked angelic, as if butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths. However, deep down he knew everyone had a story to tell and before long, he would be wiser to everyone’s crimes and previous antics. When breakfast was finished, everyone seemed to be leaving in a rush. The screw that had brought them earlier now came over to them and began to speak.

  “Come on lads. It’s induction time for you both. You will spend all this week learning about the prison’s routines, rules, and regulations.” Tigger nodded and hurried the rest of his brew and stood waiting for Gordon to finish his. As they left, the kitchen staff, who were also inmates, moved in to clear up after breakfast. You could hear them shouting at each other and the sound of pots and pans being flung around. The kitchen was a large area and all the surfaces were made of steel. You could even see the shine on them and the place looked immaculate.

  Walking towards the far end of the landing, more inmates joined them and there were a few lads that Gordon recognised from the previous day. Some of them looked tired, as if they hadn’t slept for days, and the smack head was trembling from head to toe as he tried to walk. His eyes looked black, like someone had drawn dark circles underneath them, and the sweat was dripping from his forehead like a running tap. Gordon nodded at the other lads and no words were spoken until they reached a side room off the main landing. Inside the room were about forty chairs and in front of them was a big notice board. The men took their place and sat waiting for the induction to begin. About ten minutes passed and the last of the new inmates came to join them.

  The induction began and most of the rules were explained. They were told they would get one visiting order each month and how to process it. They explained that these visiting orders could be taken away at any time for bad behaviour such as fighting. They also spoke about inmates making the most of their time in jail. They were told they could get jobs in the prison and earn more money towards their canteen. Canteen was what they could order for themselves, things like deodorants and toothpaste could be bought. The screw explained canteen was something all inmates appreciated. He also told them they could even become a trustee in time and that meant they would have the freedom to walk round the prison with no one bothering them. When Tigger heard the word trustee, he laughed to Gordon and covered his mouth as he spoke.

  “Fucking trustee my arse, arse lickers more like. Those kinds of jobs are for the grasses in here so I can’t see myself ever becoming one, can you?” Gordon agreed but secretly he would have loved to have the freedom of walking round the prison, but if the job was regarded as one for a brown noser, it would definitely be a no-go area for him in the future. Each inmate was told they would receive a basic wage each week even if they didn’t work, but it was explained to them if they worked, they could buy more luxuries and also be out of their cell all day, because at the moment they were banged up twenty three hours a day. The meeting went on for around an hour and at the end of it, they all felt drained. The bag head that was going through cold turkey had been removed half way through, as he had started shaking, vomiting, and needed urgent medical attention. Tigger told Gordon that the jail was full of smack heads, as his mates that had previously been in the jail had warned him all about them and their antics.

  “They’re low-life fuckers mate. As soon as ya backs turned they’ll be in ya cell robbing anything they can to get a quick fix.” Gordon looked shocked at what he had heard and had to ask him what he meant.

  “How can they get a fix in here?”

  Tigger looked at his face and thought he was joking at first but as he looked at him, he knew he would have to explain further.

  “There’s more drugs in here mate than there is on the fucking streets. Once I’m settled in here and know the script, there will be drugs sent in for me so I can make some fucking money. Do ya fancy a bit of work in here to earn a few quid?” Gordon looked at Tigger and nodded but really, he didn’t know what he meant. This was Gordon’s first time in prison and in reality, he was quite naive as to what prison life entailed. The thought of earning money had interested him though and he would definitely speak to Tigger later to find out exactly what it entailed because he wanted in to anything that could earn him a few quid.

  They left the room in single file and were escorted back to their cells. Once the door was closed behind them, they both collapsed onto the bed. Gordon now looked round the room and examined every nook and cranny. The years he would spend here would be long and by the time he had finished his sentence he’d probably be able to tell you how many bricks were used to build the whole prison. His mind ran away with him as he lay, arms folded under his head, remembering the conversation with Tigger about drugs. Waiting only a few seconds he got straight back onto it and asked him more about his plans to make big money.

  Tigger whispered as he leant towards Gordon’s bed making sure nobody was listening.

  “When I get my first visiting order, I’m sending it to my mate. He will smuggle in some brown for me to sell in here. He’s done it loads of times for my mates and he’s bang on for getting it in. He just brings some girl with him and passes it to her once he’s been searched. All I have to do is kiss her at the end of a visit and that’s when she drops it into my mouth. I hope she’s not a minger, I better tell him about that bit. Anyway I’m gonna swallow it straight away so the screws can’t find it when they search me and all that’s left then is the waiting till I have a shit to get it back.” Gordon looked shocked and puzzled and asked some questions.

  “Won’t you overdose if ya swallow all that smack in one go?” Tigger smiled.

  “Nar, ya fucking muppet. Don’t you know fuck all about prison life mate? They put it in balloons for ya so there’s no way it can leak into ya. The worst part is getting the balloon out of ya shit. I’m not looking forward to that part but it’s a money maker and needs must. So are you in or what?” Gordon nodded and loved the sound of making some money, as he knew money being sent into him from his family or Francesca was a joke as none of them had a carrot. They barely had enough money to live on themselves, never mind sending him money.

  The rest of the day went slowly and both of them were stuck in the cell most of the day. The only time they left was for dinner and tea but that was only for a short time and they were locked up straight afterwards. The toilet in their cell was situated at the side of Tigger’s bed and the sound of the water running through it kept them amused for many an hour. That was until Tigger decided he needed to use it and the smell from his arse filtered through the cell. Gordon heaved into his pillow as he shouted abuse at him as he sat on the toilet.

  “You dirty bastard. What the fuck have you been eating? It stinks in here like the sewers. You had better spray something in here to get rid of that rancid smell.” Tigger started laughing as he squeezed his head and added some farts to his amusement as he sat on the toilet.

  “Sorry mate, it’s my guts they’ve been right off these last few days. It must be all the stress I’ve been under lately. I’m not usually a smelly cunt.” Gordon listened and heard him sniggering to himself but he kept his head well sunk into the pillow until the smell had finally gone.

  The two inmates were issued with their first visiting orders and one basic prison letter. Gordon looked at the lined paper laid in front of him and knew he would have to write to Francesca. He still needed her in his life at the moment and she was his only hope of getting a visit from the outside. His feelings for her had changed so much lately and he could barely stand the thought of her being near him. He secretly blamed her for losing the love of his life Misty but once he was released, he planned to get rid of her for good.

  The words were hard to write as he lay thinking on his bed. The walls had been engraved with people’s names and messages and he started to look closer at what they said. He read one of the messages and it said, “Sheila I love you forever, love Ged”. He wanted so much to take his pen and press on it with all his might and let the world know just how much he loved Misty but he knew that no
body must know of his feelings for her because when he was released his plans to make her pay would be put into action and he didn’t want any connection with her at all.

  Gordon finally wrote the letter to Francesca but all he could write was for her to hurry up and come and see him. He told her he missed her and couldn’t wait until they were together again, he just hoped she believed him and didn’t see through his cunning plan. Tigger had told him that jail mail was always sent to their loved ones and shite was always written in it. After all, they had to keep their wives and partners sweet until they returned so most letters were full of bullshit and promises to change when they got out of jail.

  Tigger loved writing letters and spent hours lay on his bed writing to some girl he had started seeing before he was arrested. Gordon wondered what on earth he could write about as he’d struggled to write just one page. Tigger laughed and told him he was a bit of a player on the out and told him that women love all the shit he wrote. Tigger started to read out one of his letters and they both laughed at some of the things he had written in it. He had even asked his girlfriend to rub her fanny over the letter before she sent it back to him, so he could smell her juices and remember their times together. Gordon laughed and called him a dirty fucker, but admired his cheek. He wished he’d been so happy go lucky as Tigger, because at the moment he seemed to be under a dark cloud of depression and couldn’t shake off the torment he felt inside.