by Karen Woods
Smithy rubbed his hands together and sniggered. “Yep boss, no worries. Glad to help in your hour of need. You know me, I don’t mind getting my hands dirty.”
Jerry smirked over at him and knew he was being sarcastic. This man was always so happy and nothing ever seemed to bother him. He was the life and soul of the party, never negative and always ready to put his neck on the line for others. Mark raised his eyes and sucked hard on his gums. All he wanted to do was to get onto his wing and do a day’s work. This was not what he needed on a day like today.
*
The van doors opened and Smithy stood there with a black clipboard in his hands. He rolled the pencil around in his fingers, looking at the names on his sheet. Here they were, the new recruits. One by one they started to come out of the van. Smithy smiled at the prisoners and tried to make this as easy as possible. He had a big heart really and knew for some of these lads it was going to be hard. Yes, they’d broken the law but he always saw the good in the men, he always gave them a chance, unlike his workmate. Mark opened the doors inside the van and guided each prisoner into position. He was in a mood, slamming doors left, right and centre. There were eight prisoners in total landing at the jail. Brendan Mellor appeared from the doors and he looked like he was going to fold in two. His legs buckled beneath him and he had to hold onto the side of van to steady himself. His head was spinning and he looked like he was going to spew his ring up. Prisoners stood talking to each other and each of them was disclosing why they were in the jail. Most of the sentences were for the same kind of stuff; drug charges, robbery and violence. The last door of the sweat box opened and a young male walked out. This kid was so young, he was thin and small and looked like he was going to break down crying. Surely he wasn’t old enough to be inside this jail? Mikey clocked him instantly and nudged one of the other inmates in the waist. “Check fucking Harry Potter out over there. Wow, doesn’t he look like him?” They were all looking at the young offender now and his eyes were wide with fear. He was the double of Harry Potter and all he was missing was the black cape and magic wand in his hand.
Mikey knew the crack in the jails and knew the next few hours would involve sitting about in the reception area waiting, filling out forms, picking up uniforms and learning a bit about how the jail ran. Mikey edged closer to the young lad and made eye contact with him. “What you in for Potter?” The offender wiped his round black rimmed glasses on his white shirt and placed them back on the end of his nose trying to focus. Mikey hated waiting for an answer and spat near his feet. This kid was getting a dig if he didn’t answer him any second soon. He asked him again and his ears pinned back. “Oi, fucking deaf lugs. I said what are you in for?” All the others were waiting on his answer now. If he was a kiddy-fiddler or a wrong-un he was getting sorted out the moment the screws turned their backs. They would kick the living daylights out of him, mark him for life, brand him. That was the rule of any jail. Any crimes against children were frowned upon and they were sitting ducks every second they walked about the landings.
The male was stuttering and his voice was low. He croaked. “I’m in for fraud.”
Mikey twisted his head over his shoulder and laughed out loud. “What, you’re a fraudster. Tell me more because I think you’re chatting shit. You only look about fifteen, should you even be in this jail?”
The inmate swallowed hard and stood fidgeting. “I was making driving licenses, IDs and passports. I just did it to earn some money for college and that. The guy told me I would never get caught but once they arrested him he admitted that I was the brains behind it all.”
Mikey liked this kid already and now he’d proved that he wasn’t a nonce he was allowed to join the group. Mikey placed his hand around his shoulder and ruffled the top of his thick black crop of hair. “Come on Potter, you’re sorted. We’ll look after you, won’t we lads?” A few inmates nodded and he was welcomed into their realm. He was good like that, Mikey. He had a heart of gold and when he was in the right mood he could be a loving, caring person. Brendan edged closer to Mikey. He stuck to him like a fly around shit, wherever he went, Brendan followed. There was no chance he was dealing with this alone. Mikey owed him and he was making sure everyone knew he was his wing-man, his sidekick.
The new prisoners walked into the reception area and were placed into a single cubicle. The prisoners were shouting to each other and trying to make the most out of the situation. Mikey stood at reception and gave his details to the officer in charge. His uniform was now issued; blue pants and a blue and white striped shirt. He ran his fingers over the shirt and pulled a face. This wasn’t his usual swagger and a far cry from what he would wear on the outside. He tried to make light of the matter and thought he’d have a bit of banter with the screws. “Can I have Armani jeans and a Hugo Boss shirt? I can’t wear this load of shite, it makes my body itch. I’m used to the finer things in life, not rags like these.” There was laughter and already Mikey was standing out from the crowd. He was never one to be quiet and his voice was heard throughout the room. Smithy stood watching Mikey from a distance and smiled. This guy had charisma and even though it was his first day in the slammer he was already making them laugh.
When he was finished Smithy shouted over to him. “You need to see the doctor now, mate. Just in there she is. It’s only basic stuff she’ll want to know so don’t worry about anything.”
Mikey picked up his clothes and placed them on a chair outside the room, he raised his eyes over at Smithy. “Hope there’s a few ladies in here who will appreciate my lean body. I can put a show on for them if they want?”
Smithy sniggered. “Just get your arse inside and stop fucking about. If we ever need the Full Monty, I’ll give you a shout but for now you know what the rules are regarding any ladies in the jail. One wrong move and they’ll report you. Hormonal they are, you know what women are like.”
His voice was low and his eyes were wide open as he chuckled. Mikey walked into the medical room and he was asked to sit down facing the female doctor. She didn’t waste any time asking him questions. Time wasn’t on her side and she wanted to go home sooner rather than later. Here it was, the tick list. She didn’t looked at him once, her eyes were on the medical form. Ignorant she was, up her own arse.
“Do you have any illnesses or do you feel suicidal? Is there any regular medication you take?” she began.
Mikey pulled a face and sat forward in his seat twisting his fingers. “Nope, no illnesses yet and I don’t take any regular medication. I do get migraines though but not all the time just when I’m stressed.” The doctor was jotting this down on her pad.
Lifting her head slightly she watched him for any reaction. “And, how’s your mental health, do you ever have suicidal thoughts?”
Mike gasped, what the hell was she asking that for? He was a normal inmate. His head was fine. “Nar, I’m sound as a pound me, love. I’m a bit gutted about the sentence but nothing that I would want to end my life for.”
“Excuse me! Don’t ever call me love!” she hissed.
The medical was nearly over and after a few more questions the form was complete. “Can you get undressed while I carry out a few more checks? Just go behind that screen and wait for me.” Mikey strolled behind the white curtain. He was whistling and confident of showing his body off to anyone who was interested. Hours at the gym and a healthy protein diet had given him a body most men would die for. His six pack was his baby, the ripped stomach muscles were always tensed and any chance he got he liked to show them off. Peeling his clothes from his body he folded them neatly on the chair next to him. It was cold in this room and goosepimples were appearing all over his body. He stood jumping about on the spot rubbing at his arms with speed. A quick pull of his penis and he was ready to be examined. This man was hung like a donkey! A big girth and a long, solid member that would make any woman’s eyes water for sure. Looking down at his semi-hard cock he sniggered to himself. He loved watching the females when they clocked his manhood f
or the first time. They tried not to look at it but he knew they were happy with what they could see.
He shouted from behind the curtain whilst cupping his nuts in his hands. “I’m ready when you are. Any chance of getting this done as soon as possible? I’m freezing my balls off stood around here. My knob’s the size of an acorn,” he sniggered.
The doctor stepped behind the curtain to examine him. “Right, I need you just to relax and I will be as quick as I can.” He was watching her closely now and the moment she spotted his semi-hard cock she started to blush. She was gobsmacked and stuttered. “Can you hold your arms out to the side of you and turn around slowly please?” Mikey did as he was asked and even though he was stood there in the nude, bare-arsed, he was still flirting with the doctor. He clenched his arse cheeks together and flexed his biceps. Smithy stood watching Mikey from the side of the room and he was making sure he was doing everything he should be doing. He was amused and the corner of his mouth started to rise. He too spotted his penis and he had to give it a second look to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. It was like a baby’s arm holding an apple. He’d never seen anything so big before. Grabbing at his own crotch he tweaked his member. It would never be that size but still he was happy with what God had given him.
This part of the induction was always something every inmate hated. Being touched, being probed, it was so undignified. Smithy stood behind Mikey making sure he had nothing concealed on his body. They made him open his mouth, lift his ball-bag up and now they had him squatting down to make sure he had nothing shoved up his arsehole. The anal passage was somewhere most prisoners concealed their contraband; phones, drugs, you would be amazed at would they could fit up their shitters. Some of them were like clown’s pockets, they could get anything up there with a bit of Vaseline on it to help it inside.
Mark came into the room and he was alert. Mikey was squatting down and Smithy was bent down looking underneath his undercarriage with a mirror on the end of a long pole. This kid was clean, he wasn’t holding anything. There was a special chair to the back of the room that Mikey was now led towards. The boss chair, as it was called by the inmates. This was used to detect metal objects a prisoner might be concealing inside their bodies, usually mobile phones, or a blade. Once again Mikey was clean, nothing was detected. He smirked over at Smithy and chuckled. “Clean as a whistle I am lads, nothing up my ring-piece,” he gave them a cheeky wink.
Smithy nodded slowly and made sure he had his attention. “Just keep it like that son and everything will be fine. Some of the lads think we don’t know what goes on inside these walls but we do. So let that be a lesson to you. We’re all over it.” Smithy giggled and looked at the prisoner for a bit longer than necessary. They both knew what he meant without him going into it.
From nowhere Mark stepped forward and snarled at Mikey. He’d taken an instant dislike to him and hated his cocky attitude. He was in no mood for him today and he was on a short fuse. “Right, get ready and I’ll take you back to the waiting area. It’s going to be a few hours until you’re ready to go onto the wing.”
Mikey started to pull his boxers over his legs. He looked up at him. “Yep, no worries pal. It’s not like I’ve got anywhere else to go is it?”
Mark licked his lips slowly. There was no way he was having anyone getting over familiar with him, especially a newcomer. “Oi, smart arse. Keep it shut and go where I’ve told you to go. You need to get one thing straight. I’m not your pal and never will be.”
Mikey sniggered, he just couldn’t help himself. He knew exactly what he was doing and carried on winding him up. “Whoa, relax bro. I’m just saying that’s all. Where’s your sense of humour? Don’t tell me you’re one of them moaning cunts who takes everything to heart?”
Mark went nose to nose with him. Heads touching, eyes locked. Mikey was game as fuck and he would never back down, there was too much at stake. Mark’s stale breath was all over him. “I don’t have a sense of humour in this place. So remember that. It’s not a holiday camp here either, it’s a prison. Carry on with your attitude and you’ll end up down the block.”
“Like I’m arsed, do what you have to.”
The two of them stared each other down and Mikey knew this screw was one to watch out for in the future. There was always a prick like Mark in every jail and he knew his card was already marked. He was a wanker and thought he was untouchable because he was wearing a uniform. Mikey looked the screw up and down and knew he would be wasting his breath if he thought he could have a bit of banter with this guy. He was miserable and up his own arse. Smithy diffused the situation and nodded at Mikey to go back to return to the other prisoners.
Once he left Smithy grabbed hold of Mark’s shoulder and stopped him from walking away. “A bit harsh that don’t you think? He was only trying to have a bit of fun. You need to chill out and stop being so hard on them.”
Mark broke free and scanned around the area to make sure nobody was listening. He was raging inside and he could have easily head-butted his pal, put him on his arse for giving him grief. “I’m not in the mood today mate, just leave me alone.” Smithy watched as he stormed off.
Mark was such a hot-head lately and he was always on a downer. He scratched the top of his head and let out a laboured breath. “Please your bleeding self,” he whispered under his breath.
Mikey sat down in the cubicle next to the kid who looked like Harry Potter. He shouted from behind his wall so he could hear him. He hated being alone and any chance he got he would always make sure he was in company. Perhaps, it was something from his childhood that made him feel like this; all those times he had sat in his house alone waiting for his mother to come home, the times when all he needed was someone to talk to. “So, what’s your real name Potter? I bet it’s something posh like Marvin or Nicolas?”
The inmate’s voice was low and Mikey was struggling to hear him. He screwed his face up as he tried to make out what he was saying. “Christian Moore,” the low voice replied. Mikey digested his reply and tipped his head to the side. What a lovely name that was. A bit posh but still, he liked it. Christian seemed liked a rich person’s name, a man of style, a man of knowledge, a spiritual human being. He shouted back to him with a smile on his face. His fingers gliding down the wall slowly.
“Well, I’m going to call you Potter from now on. Are you okay with that?”
Christian smirked from behind his door. He was relieved he had a friend. He’d never met anybody like Mikey before in his life. He was well educated and most of his friends came from money. His own family had money in the past but they had lost it all when the family business went bankrupt two years before. If he was being true to himself, nobody had ever taken the time to get to really know him. He was so quiet and his self-confidence was low. “That’s fine by me. I kind of like the name Potter anyway. I’ve never had a nickname. It’s cool. I like it.”
Potter rubbed his hands together as he sat waiting. He was a gang member now with one of the top dogs as his friends. He even had a nickname, how cool was that? As soon as he got chance he was going to write home and tell his friends and family all about it. Mikey placed his head next to the wall that separated them both and knocked the side of his napper against it. “So Potter, tell me about you. Whereabouts are you from. Have you got family? You sound like a right posh twat by the way?”
“My family lived in Cheshire. Well, we did up until two months ago. We’re living in Ancoats now just near the town centre in Manchester.”
Mikey closed his eyes and visualised the place he was talking about. “I’ve got a few mates who live around there. Is it near the old hospital?”
Christian replied with an eager voice. “Yes, our apartment is just behind it.” It was so comforting to know someone knew the area where you were living. It was nice to talk to people who could relate to the area.
Mikey ran his finger slowly along the cold wall above his head and carried on speaking. “It’s rough as fuck around them parts, lad. I�
�ve done a few grafts with a couple of guys from around there. How are you finding it Potter?”
Christian thought long and hard before he answered. He didn’t want to offend anyone. “It was hard at first I suppose. I was only there a week and my mountain bike got nicked from me. Two lads it was. They shoved a knife to the side of my neck and threatened to slice me up if I didn’t give it to them. I panicked I can tell you.”
Mikey was holding his stomach laughing. He’d done similar things himself and it was all in a day’s work to him. “Yep, that sounds about right. You don’t look like one of the normal residents, that’s why. They must have known you’d just hand it over without a fight. You got off lightly really. I would have chinned you before I left, if it was me.”
Potter sniggered as he answered him. “I crapped my pants I can tell you. My father wanted me to phone the police but I told him straight that wasn’t going to happen. There was no way I ever wanted to meet those two creatures again, ever.”
Mikey nodded slowly. He admired this lad’s honesty. “You done the right thing. If you would have snitched on them, your windows would have gone through. Nobody likes a grass you know. You need to remember that, especially inside the jail. Keep what you know to yourself and you’ll be fine.” Mikey started to hum a tune, he was bored now. His eyes were closing and he started to nod off.
*
Day turned into night and the new inmates were led to the induction wing. Each of them had their kit folded in a neat bundle in front of them. Potter could barely see over his pile and every now and then he was dropping things. Brendan Mellor had tried to get a double pad with Mikey but the screw told him straight he was going where he put him. What a slap in the mouth that was for him. Brendan was devastated and hated that Mikey had never said a word about it. Mikey stepped inside the pad with Potter not far behind him. His eyes shot about the small room and he sucked in a deep breath of air. So, this was it. This was his home for the next few years. Potter sat down on his bed and folded his arms tightly in front of him. His bottom lip trembled and his eyes clouded over. This was the real deal now. No more waiting, no more not knowing how things would turn out, their sentences had begun. Mikey jumped onto his bed and looped his arms behind his head. He was taking ages to get comfortable and his hand was slamming hard at the mattress trying to get rid of any lumps. That would have to do, he gave up trying. Mikey turned his head and gripped the pillow folding it in half ramming it back behind him. He could see his pad mate was struggling and remembered his very first night being locked up away from the people that he loved. Prison was a daunting place when you didn’t know the script. The noises throughout the night; crying, screaming, inmates shouting... Yes, this place was enough to break even the strongest of men.
