Erastes

Different Points of View

Chapters 21-25

While I was biding my time waiting for the sentencing date to arrive, I received a visit from the probation officer who had been assigned to prepare the pre-sentencing investigation report. He asked numerous questions and probed into various aspects of my life, from childhood until the present, including every sexual milestone and minor disciplinary infraction along the way. In fact, I considered him to be more intrusive than any psychiatrist I'd ever met or even heard of, and he performed his duties while displaying a severe lack of tact.

Even though I was tempted to tell him to fuck off, and I probably would have if his report weren't going to be used to determine my fate, I reluctantly answered each of his questions. Once he had all of the information he was looking for, he packed up his notes and left, without giving me any indication of what he was thinking or what he intended to suggest to the judge. However, I wasn't overly concerned about this, seeing my lawyer had previously told me that he thought the judge would merely go along with the District Attorney's sentencing recommendation.

Later that night, Bruno called to ask how things had gone during the interview. After I told him about what the guy had put me through and how I thought his visit went, he said he'd get a copy of the report a day or two before we went before the judge, so we'd at least have some idea as to whether his comments might sway the judge's decision. Bruno didn't think that would happen, since he didn't feel that anything I'd told him was egregious enough to negate the sentencing agreement with the D.A.'s office, but he still wanted to see what the probation officer had to say before we went to the sentencing hearing. Now, we just had to wait.

The day before the hearing was to be held, Bruno called me at home.

"Bob, I don't think you have to worry," he began. "The guy from probation didn't say anything in his report that might cause the judge to question the D.A.'s recommendation, so I think you'll be fine."

"That's great news, Bruno!" I shouted. "Well, not the going to jail part, but at least I won't be there for any longer than a year."

"I understand, but now for a reminder," Bruno added. "Just dress in a pair of slacks and a dress shirt for court tomorrow and don't carry much with you. Take a few bucks, but not more than $100, and they'll credit whatever you have to your inmate account, so you can buy things from the jailhouse store, but leave your wallet and credit cards locked up at home.

"You should also pack a paper bag with several changes of underwear, socks, a toothbrush and toothpaste, a writing pad, maybe some envelopes and stamps and a couple of pens," Bruno continued. "They'll let you take those things in with you, although they'll inspect the bag for contraband first, so don't try to slip in anything else. I think you'll feel better having your own underwear and socks, as well as the toothpaste you use, but that's all you'll need, because they'll provide everything else. I'll also drive to your house and pick you up in the morning, around 9:00, so your vehicle won't be left on the street or taking up one of the valuable parking spaces in my law firm's lot. I suggest you put it in your garage, where it will be safe, but don't forget to leave your keys at home too, for whomever you've set up to take care of things for you while you're gone. Ok?"

"Yes, Bruno, and thanks for the advice," I responded.

That night wasn't as bad as I suspected it might be, now that I had resigned myself to my fate. Instead, I merely made sure the house was secure and I had locked up all of the valuables, as well as unplugged everything except the clocks and shut off the gas and water until I got back. I also packed a grocery-size paper bag full of the things Bruno had advised that I should take with me.

After I had finished doing that, I called Jack, my literary attorney and good friend, so I could ask him to pick up Boo-Boo and drop him off at Jared's house, along with his food and other supplies, as well as enough cash to cover the cost of the food while I was away. I also told him to give the family his cell number, so they could call him if Boo-Boo needed to go to the vet, because I wanted him to pay those bills using my accounts too.

I even considered having Jack give the family a note from me, but seeing I wasn't sure how it would be received, I decided not do it. I didn't suspect Sherry would be upset about getting the puppy, but I wasn't sure how she'd react if she were handed a note from me. That was because I wasn't certain if she had been involved with talking Jared into filing the report against me, but if she thought I had hurt her son, then that was a possibility. I really didn't want to deal with an overly protective mother bear, especially now, when I was about to temporarily loose my freedom.

I also wanted to do this because I thought the dog might be good for the boys and serve to distract them from thinking about the fact that I was going to jail. I also hoped that it might possibly ease some of their pain, but I wasn't sure about that. I told Jack that if they didn't want to keep Boo-Boo, then he could place the dog in a kennel, on my dime, and I'd take him back just as soon as I got released. I didn't know what else to do with Boo-Boo if Sherry and the boys didn't want to keep him, but I certainly didn't want to give the dog away, since he was the birthday present I had given Jared.

The next morning I woke up early, showered, dressed and ate breakfast. Bruno said he'd pick me up at 9:00, because we were scheduled to be in court at 10:00 and it would give us a chance to talk first. Bruno had already looked over what I was going to say today, because I had emailed it to him several days ago and then he sent it back with his suggestions. I made the changes and then emailed the final copy back to him, which he quickly oked. Now, all I had to do was read it in court.

Bruno arrived right on time to pick me up and then I rode with him to the courthouse. He asked me how I was holding up and then double-checked to make sure I had done everything he'd suggested. Once that was dealt with, we arrived at the parking garage and once more dodged the bloodsuckers from the press corps on the way in. I still don't understand how they can get so much enjoyment feeding off of other people's pain and suffering and I also find it hard to believe that anyone needs the money so badly that they would be willing to stoop to such a job. Then again, maybe it's just that I'm down on them right now, because they convicted me in print before a jury ever had a chance to do so. Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?

It's not that I'm the only one they've ever done something like this to. I've seen them stick their mikes in people's faces, right after some tragedy had just occurred, so they could ask the grieving relatives how they felt. How in the hell do they think those people are going to feel? I truly hope those reporters are just lacking basic common sense about such matters and aren't really that ignorant.

Anyway, once we were in the courtroom, we took our places at the defense table and waited for the judge to enter. It was only a few minutes later when the bailiff asked everyone to rise and the judge took his seat at the bench. After arranging some items in front of him, he began to speak.

"Mr. Cox's plea has been entered and accepted, but an allocution was requested by the District Attorney's office, before his sentence would be finalized. Mr. Cox, are you ready to make this statement now?"

I rose and spoke very clearly. "Yes, Your Honor."

"You may proceed then."

I grabbed the sheet of paper containing my prepared statement and began to read from it.

"I will not attempt to deny my actions and freely admit that I had sexual contact with said minor. I know it was wrong and I apologize for what happened. On that one occasion, I performed oral sex on said minor, but he never returned the favor and there was never any form of penetration. This happened at my home and I'm sorry I let things get out of hand. I hope that some day he, his brother and his mother will forgive me for what I did."

I felt that by making the statement the way I had would get Jared off the hook with his peers. It wouldn't appear as if it had been his idea or that more than a blowjob was involved, so I felt his peer group might allow that to slide, without humiliating Jared because of it.

After making my statement, I sat down and the judge addressed the Assistant District Attorney.

"Mr. Levitt, will that suffice?" he asked.

"Yes, Your Honor. My office will accept his allocution," the A.D.A. confirmed.

"Seeing the D.A.'s office has found the allocution acceptable, we'll move on to sentencing," the Judge confirmed. "I have looked over the pre-sentencing report and noted that Mr. Cox has no previous record and no history of this kind of behavior. Due to this fact, I am willing to go along with the District Attorney's sentencing recommendation and order that Mr. Cox serve one year in the county jail. It is so ordered and this case is now concluded. Bailiff, please see to it that Mr. Cox is taken into custody and have him escorted over to the jail to be processed."

With the rap of the judge's gavel, my freedom temporarily ceased to exist and I was led away to spend the better part of the next year in a small cage.

The bailiff came over to get me, assisted by a sheriff's deputy, who put a pair of handcuffs on my wrists. As soon as he finished doing that, I saw Bruno whisper in the deputy's ear, followed by the deputy nodding in response. The deputy then grabbed my arm and we followed Bruno through the same exit he and I had used one of the previous times we were in court and they hustled me down the back stairwell to the basement level. As we were passing the door leading to the first floor, I glanced through the small glass window and saw the members of the press gathered in front of the elevator doors. They thought I'd be taken to the first floor via the elevator, so they were waiting to snap their pictures and attempt to get a comment. Won't they be pissed when they discover we were able to bypass them?

From there, we followed an underground passageway that connected the jail to the parking garage, which was also used by many of the jail's employees when they came to work. Bruno had seen to it that we did this, rather than follow the usual outdoor route the deputies used when escorting prisoners to and from the jail, in order to save me from having to face the press. Bruno wished me well, before he left me alone with the deputy, and then we continued our journey.

As we entered the jail, I was led to a small reception area, which already contained two other prisoners. I guess they had been sentenced today as well, possibly in one of the other courtrooms, or they had just been arraigned and remanded to jail. We all just sat there in silence, as we waited to be processed.

The first guy was fairly young and my guess was that he was just barely twenty-one, if that, but the other guy was a scruffy older dude, probably in his late forties or early fifties. None of us spoke and we merely eyed each other, wondering what the others had been accused or convicted of. One at time, we were led away to have our fingerprints taken, as well as new mug shots. This time, I followed some of the advice I'd been given previously about the fingerprinting process and rubbed my fingertips against the bench and the wall, in an attempt to fill the ridges with dirt particles. Not only was I uncertain as to whether this had any effect, I also wasn't convinced it would actually do any good.

When the intake process was concluded and they had our fingerprints and mug shots, we were taken into a small room, one at a time, where we were strip-searched. Once they finished, we had everything but our underwear and socks taken from us and then we were given bright orange jumpsuits to put on, along with a pair of slip-on athletic shoes. Belts and shoelaces aren't allowed in the jail, since it is felt those items could be used to commit suicide, as well as to murder another inmate or guard, but this seemed more than a little strange to me. Why would they only prevent those items from being taken into the jail? Yes, I can see how those things could be used for such purposes, but so can many other items. I guess those in charge must have missed the numerous cop shows on TV that have shown the same things could be done with a bed sheet. Even if the inmate didn't want to use the entire sheet, then he could always rip it into strips and then use those items for the same purposes.

Anyway, after we were dressed in our jailhouse uniform, we were given our bedding, which consisted of a pillow, pillowcase, two sheets and a blanket, along with a towel, which we carried with us as we were escorted to the cell we had been assigned. The younger guy and I were led to the same cellblock, while the other guy was taken to a different location. The cellblock had five individual cells, with a common area that ran the entire length of the cellblock and included the space in front of each of the cells. The common area was a barred in area where the inmates could get together to talk, play games or do other things, whenever they weren't restricted to their cells.

The common area also had three metal tables, each with four individual seats, and all of these items were securely bolted into the floor, so they couldn't be used as a weapon. I thought it was odd that there was seating for twelve, yet there were only five cells and five inmates in here, but then I realized there might be other reasons for this. For one thing, this would allow for the jail to double up in the cells, if the inmate population increased, but it also gave the inmates space to avoid others in the cellblock that they might not get along with and wished to avoid.

When I was led to my cell, the first thing I did was take a look around. After a quick visual inspection, I noticed that the entire front of the cell, including the door, consisted of thick metal bars, but the other three walls were solid sheets of metal. The cell appeared to be about the size of a typical walk-in closet, which meant it was kind of cramped, but I couldn't quite stretch out my arms and touch both walls at the same time. After looking around, I decided this had apparently been constructed to accommodate double occupancy, because there were two metal platforms bolted to the wall on one side of the room and were meant to serve as beds. There was only one thin mattress though, which was lying on the lower platform, but it could easily be moved to the upper one, if you chose to sleep there instead.

Since we were told that we would each have our own cell, the second platform not only allowed us the choice of which of these we wanted to sleep on, but you could use the other for storage. If you slept on the upper area, however, then you could also use the lower area as just another place to sit down and stretch out during the day, without messing up your bedding.

In addition to the 'beds,' across from them there was a small metal table, with a seat on either end, which could be used as a desk. This was similar to the tables in the common area, just not as large, and it could be used to sit at if you wished to write or use as a reading area, because there was a light jutting out of the wall directly above it, to brighten the area even better.

Over on the far wall of the cell, directly across from the doorway, there was a stainless steel toilet, with a built-in seat, and a small stainless steel sink, above which was a stainless steel mirror. All in all, these accommodations weren't as bad as I feared, unless of course I had been forced to share it with a second inmate, because it would have been really cramped with two people in this small enclosure.

I quickly decided to use the lower sleeping area and began to make my bed, so I could lie down and contemplate my new lodgings, but I never got the chance. As I was unfolding the blanket, so I could place it over the sheets, the younger guy who was part of the group I was brought here with stopped by to chat.

"Not the greatest, is it?" he began.

"No, but I'm sure it could be worse," I replied. "At least it's not a really old facility and it's fairly clean, so I guess it will suffice."

"Yeah, I suppose. So what are you in for?" he asked, surprising me with his bluntness.

I later discovered that this was a major topic of interest among inmates, but it was something I didn't particularly want to disclose to anyone else. I'd heard stories about how inmates have their own sense of right and wrong, as well as their own hierarchy of crimes, from those they consider acceptable and on up to those they consider despicable. Unfortunately, at least for me, sexual predators, especially those who do things with kids, are considered worse than thieves and even murderers, so it places them on the top of the despised list. Personally, I'd find that ironic, if I didn't consider it so damned pathetic.

"For getting caught," was how I chose to answer his question.

To ensure that he let this topic drop and didn't pursue it further, I didn't ask him what he had done. Instead, I merely turned back to what I was doing when he showed up and put the finishing touches on making my bed.

"Is this your first time… I mean being in jail?" he asked next, undeterred by my terse answer or the fact that I'd just ignored him.

"Yes. How about you?" I followed.

I only responded this time because I could see that he wasn't about to be put off so easily and I didn't want him to revert to his previous question.

"Yeah, I was arrested last night and kept in a holding cell at the Police Department until this morning," he confessed.

Once this sank in, I began to wonder about what he might have done, if they put him in here and he hadn't even been convicted yet. I didn't want to ask him about this though, since I didn't want to share my information with him.

"So you haven't had your trial yet?" I asked, surprised by this revelation.

"Nah. I just had my arraignment this morning, but since I couldn't afford bail and the judge thought the charge was too severe to just release me until the trial, he sent me here," he explained.

"Damn, that sucks," I mused.

He nodded, but didn't say anything more, but then after a few seconds, he spoke again.

"Are you scared?" he followed.

After he'd said this, I began to look at him more closely and studied his face, in an effort to determine why he was asking this. I needed to see where he was coming from, but about all I could tell was that he seemed to be really nervous, probably even scared, so I didn't even have to ask how he was feeling. In fact, I was actually beginning to feel sorry for him.

"Not really, but I'm not particularly fond of being here either," I finally replied.

He flashed me a weak smile of understanding.

"I'm scared shitless," he admitted. "That other guy who was waiting with me when you first showed up, well he told me that I'd end up becoming somebody's bitch in this place. He said I was so cute that one of the tougher inmates, someone who had been in here for a while and hadn't had any sex for a long time, would probably try to get a piece of my ass before I got out of here."

"Then I'd suggest you keep your back to the wall," I retorted.

I wasn't really trying to be funny, but I wasn't particularly interested in having this conversation either. I had my own problems to consider, such as how I was going to handle the situation, if word got out about what I was in here for. The problem was, I felt sorry for this kid and could empathize with what he was feeling.

"That's probably a good idea," he agreed. "I'm really terrified that something might actually happen, so I figured I needed some friends in here that I can trust and would be willing to help me out. I thought you looked like a decent guy, so I kinda thought I might be able to trust you. I can, can't I?"

"Sure, kid," I told him, hoping that a positive response might help to calm him down. "I promise I won't do anything like that to you. Ok?"

He gave me a weak smile and nodded slightly.

"Thanks," he replied. "I just knew you were a nice guy and not like some of those other creeps, so I'm pretty sure I can trust you. What did you do for a living? I get the feeling that you might have been a teacher, coach or someone who worked with kids."

I eyed him suspiciously now and wondered if there might be a more insidious reason why he was asking this. Did someone put him up to it and should I give up even the smallest details about my life? After a few seconds of thinking about this, I concluded that it would probably be safe enough to share a few details with him, since it appeared that he just needed some reassurance.

"No, nothing like that," I answered. "I'm a writer, but my stories are geared toward children and young adults."

His face brightened.

"I knew it!" he exclaimed. "I think that's neat, because it means that you probably have to be a pretty nice guy to write stories that the kids might be interested in. I read a lot when I was a kid, so do you think I might have read any of your books?"

"Well, I've only been writing for a couple of years now," I lied, since I didn't want to tell him about my penname. "By the time I started, you were probably already too old to be interested in reading any of my stories."

"Oh, ok, but I just thought I'd check. By the way, my name's Darren," he announced, as he held out his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Darren," I responded. "I'm Bob."

We shook hands and I thought I saw him breath a small sigh of relief, now that he figured he had someone he could rely on. I then prodded him to move out to the common area with me, since at this time I still was unsure if we were permitted to invite anyone else into our cell. I certainly didn't want to unwittingly commit some minor infraction of the rules and get into trouble, because that could later end up costing me some good-time credit and I wanted to get out of this place just as soon as I could. Therefore, I guided him to the table near my end of the cellblock, and when we got there, we both noticed that a deck of cards had been left there.

"Want to play something?" Darren asked, as he glanced over at me.

"I think you'd better check and see who the cards belong to first," I cautioned. "You wouldn't want to piss someone off because you used something that belonged to him, without asking permission first."

"Shit, I never thought of that," Darren admitted. "I just thought the guards had probably left them here for us to use."

"It's possible, but unlikely, since they're not marked with something stating they're property of the county jail," I countered. "Chances are, they belong to one of the other guys in here with us."

"Wow! Thanks for the warning," he repeated. "I really don't want to make any enemies in here."

"I'm glad I was able to help with that," I confirmed. "This may be my first time being locked up, but I've seen documentaries about prison life and remembered some of the things that could cause problems," I explained. "I know this isn't technically as bad as a prison, but I'm fairly certain that a few of these guys have either been in a prison before or are waiting to be transferred to one, since the state uses local jails to warehouse state prisoners until they can be moved to one of the state facilities. That's why I think this same mentality may be prevalent here as well, so I just wanted you to be careful."

"Yeah, you're probably right," he agreed. "I'm glad you're here to explain these things to me, because I don't want to get on anyone's bad side or have to fight with them."

I'm sure he appreciated my warning, but it only served to remind him that he was scared, so he began to act nervously again. In fact, it got so bad that I was afraid that he was about to hyperventilate.

"Calm down, kid, or you'll have a heart attack before the night's over," I teased, hoping a little levity might help him begin to calm down.

He gave me a puzzled look for a few seconds, before he spoke.

"That's not exactly the kind of attack I'm worried about," he confessed, before emitting a nervous little laugh.

I got his drift, without him having to spell it out for me.

"Look, kid. We're locked up in this small area for most of the day, so you won't have to deal with a lot of others," I reasoned. "From what I understand, we get an hour of rec time each day, which we'll take with some of the other cellblocks, but there will be three or four guards with us when this happens, so they can take care of any problems. Other than that, there's just the five of us, so you don't really have anyone else that you have to fret about.

"You already know the two of us will be sticking together," I continued, "so we'll just have to check out the other three and determine whom we can trust and whom we might have to watch out for. Then, once the lights are out each night, we'll be locked in our cells, so there's no way anyone can get to you until morning. It will be all right for you to sleep with your eyes closed and you won't have to worry about someone attacking you in your sleep. That's one good thing about being in a jail, rather than a prison, because unless there's a big influx of inmates, they won't double up in the cells and you'll be alone."

He exhaled slightly and gave me another weak grin.

"Thanks, that does make me feel a little better," he admitted.

"Good, but there is another advantage," I added, "and that is that most of these guys are generally in for lesser crimes, than those in a prison. It doesn't mean there aren't a few that won't try something like that, but most just want to get out of here and don't intend on doing anything that would extend their stay. Most guys in a jail have been sentenced to a year or less, so they don't want to do anything that would get them locked up for longer or sent away to a worse place. The only ones you'll have to worry about are those who are just here temporarily, until they get transferred to a state penitentiary."

"Ok, I'll keep that in mind. Thanks, Bob," he responded, as the color returned to his cheeks. "You've made me feel a whole lot better."

I nodded in understanding, while realizing how much more vulnerable he was. It was at this point when I also inwardly acknowledged how cute he was, but I quickly erased those thoughts from my mind, because I certainly didn't need to become aroused. I hurriedly reminded myself that I wasn't going to make any friends while I was in here, because that could end up backfiring later, especially if the reason for my incarceration was discovered.

You see, I was hoping that I could merely do my time and then put this incident behind me, at least as much as possible, and then go on with the rest of my life. Once this experience was concluded, I planned to suppress all memories of this year from my mind and never think about it again. The problem was, this kid wasn't about to let up and wanted us to be close, so I could help to protect him, whether it was something I wanted to do or not. I guess he had taken my being nice to him and trying to ease his transition into meaning I wanted to be his best buddy.

"Bob, would you mind if I spend most of my time with you?" he almost pleaded.

As much as I might have wanted to say 'no,' he reminded me a lot of Jared, especially in the way he was trying to convince me to do what he wanted. With Darren it wasn't a sexual goal, since he seemed fearful of that type of encounter, but I got the feeling that he was looking at me as his 'jailhouse savior,' who would be there to protect his back.

"Look, kid, I can't control what you do," I began, "but I suspect that if you're constantly hanging around me, then you might get the other inmates talking about the connection and wondering what we're doing together, if you get my drift."

"I don't care what they think!" he objected. "I just feel safer with you than anyone else I've met or seen in this place. Ok?"

"I'm not going to say that you absolutely can't do that, but I want to warn you that I'll probably be doing my own thing most of the time," I pointed out.

"Like what?" he wondered.

"Hopefully writing," I stated. "I might be locked up, but I still plan on trying to find a way to continue doing that while I'm in here. Sure, I won't be able to do it on a laptop, which is the way that I'm used to doing it, but I can at least write it out on tablets and then enter it into a document on my computer after I'm released. I probably won't be able to continue the stories I had been working on, but I can always start something new. It's just that I refuse to waste my time while I'm in here and allow my brain to turn to mush."

"Yeah, I see your point," he agreed.

He looked slightly dejected, because I had more or less told him that I wasn't going to drop everything to look out for him, but he obviously wasn't about to totally give up on the idea either. I became aware of that fact when he spoke again.

"Ok, I won't bother you when you're working," he agreed, "but would you mind if I came to your cell and did something else while you were doing that?"

"I'm not sure if that's allowed," I replied. "I don't know if the guards are ok with a person going into someone else's cell or not."

"I don't think they mind, because I saw the two guys at the other end of the cellblock doing it," he responded. "I was just walking around and checking things out when I saw they were both sitting in one of the cells together, chatting. They gave me a dirty look when they saw me staring at them, so I took off, but they didn't seem to act as if they were worried that I saw them doing something they weren't supposed to. I think they just wanted me to know that they didn't like being spied on and were warning me to mind my own business. If it's ok with you, then I'll just sit and watch what you're doing, cuz I don't like the way that one guy was looking at me."

"Whom are you referring to? Are you still talking about the guy who was in the reception area with us?" I tried to clarify.

"Him too, but I'm really talking about the guy in the cell at the far end of this cellblock," he confirmed. "After he and the other guy gave me a dirty look when I saw them in the cell together, I noticed him checking me out later, and he spent a lot of time looking me over. I'm not sure what he was thinking, but I had a feeling that if I found out, I wouldn't like it. He definitely doesn't strike me as someone I can trust."

"Possibly not, but he may have just been trying to figure out why you seemed to be checking on him," I offered. "As far as your request, I leave that entirely up to you. I just think you're going to be really bored."

"Then I'll bring something with me that I can do, but I just don't want to be left alone out there," he added, with a little sigh of relief. "Thanks for letting me do this."

That temporarily ended our current conversation, although he didn't go anywhere and even followed me back to my cell, so I realized I had probably just picked up a shadow, whether I wanted one or not.

Before too much more time had passed, we heard someone call out that lunch was being served and five identical looking trays of food were being passed into our common area by one of the guards, assisted by a trusty. That's a trusty, not a trustee, and it's the term used for an inmate who is given some freedom within the jail or prison, in return for doing certain duties. The trusty might work in the kitchen or the laundry, but he might also be asked to perform general cleaning duties in the public areas outside of the individual cellblocks. The term kind of reminded me of some of the old time movies, where a guy might have a trusty sidekick or a hunter might take his trusty dog out to scare up some game to shoot.

Anyway, I urged Darren to wait and let the other three go first, since we were new here and still feeling our way around this system, so I didn't want to end up accidentally stepping on anyone's toes. I'd heard that some inmates are very territorial and there's an unwritten pecking order in jail, where those being incarcerated the longest or happened to be the most aggressive and intimidating alpha male, would always get to go first. It didn't matter if it was to select a tray of food, where they sat, who got to use the shower first and even who got to play a game or use a particular piece of exercise equipment before anyone else.

After the other three had each taken one of the trays that were being passed through the small slot in the door leading into our cellblock, they either went back to their cell to eat or sat down at one of the tables in the common area. After they had walked away, Darren and I grabbed the remaining two trays and walked over to an open table and prepared to eat. This meal consisted of a ham and cheese sandwich, potato chips, a couple of carrot sticks and some Jell-o. It also had one of those half pint cartons of milk, like the ones the kids get at school. It was an ok lunch, but not really filling, but it would have to do until dinner.

I was seated across from Darren and in a position where I could observe the two guys he seemed to be worried about. They were seated at the next table over, while the third guy had gone into his cell to eat. I didn't look directly at them, because I realized doing that might cause a problem as well, so I did it on the sly. While Darren and I were talking, I would look over his shoulder to see what the other two were doing and see if they were watching us in return. The guy sitting just behind Darren, I think I'd heard the other guy call him Irvin, didn't appear to be quite as tough or rough around the edges. The other guy, however, looked as if he had the potential of becoming a major problem. I believe he was probably the one Darren had been referring to earlier, when he said one of those guys had been checking him out, so I was determined to keep an eye on him.

Once we'd finished eating, Darren followed me up to put our trays back on the ledge on the cellblock door, because a trusty would be coming by to pick them up shortly. As we were moving away from the area after doing this, the guy that had eaten in his cell came over to us and introduced himself.

"Hi, my name's Fred," he stated, while reaching his hand out to shake.

Darren and I quickly introduced ourselves and shook his hand.

"Sorry I didn't come by and introduce myself sooner, but I wanted to stay out of the way and see what Roy and Irvin might do first," he explained. "I try to give them a wide berth."

I think we understood what he meant and told him there were no hard feelings, but then the question came up again, about what we were in for. Darren quickly offered the details surrounding his arrest, so this became the first time I had actually heard what he was in for as well. From what he said, he'd been involved in a bar brawl, which began after he and two of his buddies got really drunk and started a commotion. When one of the bouncers came over and asked them to leave, Darren and his buddies refused to move, so a couple of other bouncers came over and attempted to help their co-worker to forcibly throw Darren and his friends out.

In an attempt to defend himself and fight off these larger men, since he wasn't sure what they were going to do next, Darren grabbed a beer bottle and broke it over the first bouncer's head. Darren told us that the bartender then called 911 and not only did the cops show up, but an ambulance arrived and ended up taking the bouncer to the hospital. Since his buddies hadn't done more than just struggle against the other bouncers and didn't use any weapons, such as the bottle, they faced a lesser charge and were released on their own recognizance, but Darren was sent to jail.

When Fred turned to me, I merely gave the same response I had used earlier, "For getting caught." This terse answer seemed to bother him, but he didn't pursue it further, since he understood that I didn't wish to disclose this information. Instead, he told us his story and explained that he was in for forgery. He justified this by saying that he had only forged his girlfriend's name on a couple of checks that were made out to both of them, because she had gone away for a few days at the time, and he needed the money. Then, when she got back, she pressed charges against him, after she discovered what he'd done. He said he'd just used the money to pay the rent and buy some food, so he didn't understand why she was so upset about what he'd done, but it got him locked up here.

Darren then asked him a question about his girlfriend and their relationship, so I imagined he was just trying to figure out why she had filed a complaint, especially since both of their names were on the check and he'd only spent the money on rent and food. I wasn't really interested, however, because I understood that most of these guys tend to embellish their stories just to make themselves look better. I'm not sure if Darren heard his answer either, because the guard escorting the trusty picking up the dirty trays, shouted out a name.

"Cox," he bellowed, immediately gaining my attention. "Your lawyer dropped this stuff off for you, so come get your shit and put it in your cell."

When I looked more closely, I saw that he was carrying the paper bag I had left in Bruno's car. It contained the things Bruno had told me I would need for my stay here, so I went over and took the bag from him. I was about to turn around and carry it to my cell, when the guard decided to use this time to fill us newbies in about some of the rules.

"Ok, you two. This is how things are run here," he began, speaking to Darren and me. "Wake-up is at 6:00 a.m. If you want to shave, razors will be brought around shortly after that and it's the only time shaving will be permitted. Breakfast is served around 7:00, lunch at noon and dinner about 5:00. You will be brought either coffee or tea later, sometime around 8:00, but whether you get coffee or tea will depend on what the cook decides to prepare that evening and you can't just order what you want. Lights out will be at 11:00 p.m. sharp and we expect to have no problems after that time. Any questions?"

Neither of us had any, so he continued with his indoctrination.

"As you've probably already noticed, there's a TV in each cellblock, but it's totally controlled by the duty officer at the front desk," he stated. "He will choose which shows you will be allowed to watch and will occasionally play a movie the county has purchased for this purpose or something one of the COs has brought in for your enjoyment. You can choose to watch these things or not, but that's your only option. We don't take requests. Got that?"

He gave us a little snarl after saying this and we both nodded that we understood.

"One more thing," he added. "Twice a week one of the COs will come by and take your orders for things you want to buy from the inmate store. All of you have a little money in your inmate accounts, so your purchases will be deducted from that amount. Your friends and relatives can add money on your behalf when they come to visit, but the total in your account cannot exceed $100 at any time. You'll be given a list of the things you can buy from the store, along with the prices charged for each item, and that list will probably be dropped off sometime after dinner tonight. Any questions now?"

This time, we both asked him for some minor clarifications about the inmate store, which he answered. After filling us in on these little tidbits of information, the guard departed and we were left to our own devices again.

"What's a CO?" Darren asked me, as I started to walk away.

"That's what they call the guards," I offered. "It stands for Correction Officer, which is their official title."

"Thanks. That had confused me," he responded.

I told him he was welcome and then took the bag of things the CO had just given me into my cell and placed it on my bed. After that, I sat down at the small desk, got out my pad and a pen and prepared to write. The problem was, I lacked the motivation or inspiration that I needed to do this. After about an hour of increasing futility, I put the pen down and went over to my bed. I was just getting comfortable when I heard one of the guards called out again.

"Rec time. If you're interested in going outside for some exercise then get in line," he ordered.

I decided that I might as well give it a try, to see what they had to offer, so I went out and stood behind Fred. He was standing in line behind Roy and Irvin, who were lined up in front of the door to our cellblock. When Darren saw I was going out, he hurried down and got in line behind me, since he didn't want to be left alone in the cellblock. Once we were all ready to go, the guard walked us out of the cellblock and down to the double doors leading out to the rec area. He then unlocked the door and took us outside.

Once we were out of the building, Fred filled us in about some of the things we didn't already know. He explained that inmates are offered an hour of rec each day, but we don't all come out at the same time. The inmates from two of the four wings on a level are grouped together and taken out for rec together, which means there were be a maximum of forty inmates in the yard at any one time. Since not everyone opts to take advantage of this opportunity, there are usually fewer than that in the yard, but those in charge didn't want any more than forty inmates out for rec at one time. Any more than that would be too hard to supervise and could lead to major incidents.

By limiting the number that could have rec at one time, it meant the guards had to offer this at multiple times, to accommodate everyone who wanted to take part. Fred then told us that three groups had rec in the morning, one at 8:15, another at 9:30 and the last at 10:45, and the final three groups were taken out in the afternoon, at 1:15, 2:30 or 3:45. The times were rotated among the various groups on a weekly basis, so each group had a different time slot each week. This way, no one got stuck going out only in the morning or always in the afternoon, plus it also meant that sometimes you'd be outside when it was cooler out and at other times when it was warmer.

When I looked around, I discovered the rec area was merely a small, square courtyard, which was boxed in between the outer walls of the four wings that contained the various cellblocks. Since the jail is three stories high it would be nearly impossible to escape, but there was also razor wire attached to poles that jutted out from the walls, just below the roof level of each wing, and extended over the outer edges of the open courtyard. This was there to prevent anyone from even thinking they might be able to scale the walls in order to escape.

The entire area was covered in concrete and there were three basketball hoops, one in front of three of the four wings, which meant they were spread out enough so you could have three separate games without interfering with any of the others. There were also groups of metal picnic style tables and benches placed strategically near the wing where there was no basketball hoop, and they were fastened into the cement, for those who just wanted to sit and chat while enjoying the weather.

On the other side of the tables, and placed in front of the fourth wing, were a series of metal bleachers, where you could also sit and watch what was going on in the courtyard. Fred told us that these bleachers were also used when the jail hosted special shows for the inmates, which were held outside in decent weather. In addition to everything else, there were also metal bars attached to the walls at various places, which could be used to do pull-ups, and there was another area where the inmates could do isometric exercises.

Darren and I decided to grab a basketball and shoot some hoops, but we had only been doing this for a few minutes when some other inmates came over and wanted to have a game. Darren and I agreed that would be fine, so we chose up sides and began playing. The game was going fairly well, with Darren and I on the same team, and we had been playing for about fifteen or twenty minutes, before some of the other inmates started to gather around us to watch. When this happened, everything began to fall apart, because one of the spectators became aware of something and announced it to everyone else.

"Hey, I know that guy over there," he stated, while pointing at me. "He's the baby-raper whose picture was in the newspaper!"

At this point, the game came to a halt, because everyone wanted to have a chance to identify the villain in their midst – me. Various inmates began to make comments and spew vulgarities in my direction.

"Fucking pervert," someone scoffed.

"Somebody should rip your fucking cock and balls off and shove them down your throat," someone else offered.

"Pedophiles don't do well in here," another warned, "so watch your back."

"Maybe we should show him what it's like to be on the receiving end and give him a taste of what the kid felt," another voice added.

Things were beginning to get nasty, but there was absolutely nowhere I could go. I knew we hadn't been out here long enough for our hour to be up yet, so I began to wonder how far some of these guys would actually be tempted to go and what might happen next.

Chapter 22
The Confinement

Things were getting heated out in the rec yard, after the one inmate had pointed me out and announced what I was in for. Once that happened, I became extremely anxious for rec hour to end, because each of the other inmates had started to take turns walking past me, so they could unload with a cheap shot. Their attacks would vary slightly, but over the course of the next fifteen minutes I received a number of quick slaps, had elbows jabbed into my body and endured an assortment of punches to vulnerable and painful areas. They would do this whenever they thought the COs were looking the other way or the other inmates would form a human wall of sorts, to block the guards' vision, so it quickly became impossible to continue playing our game.

Finally, the guards came over and removed the non-participants from the court, so we could resume our game. Once we started playing again, the guys on the other team took this opportunity to get their licks in and knocked me around some more. No matter how bad it got or how many times I was elbowed, kneed, stepped on or tripped, I knew I couldn't stop playing or start whining about the way they were treating me. If I did anything like that, it would only encourage them to get more vicious or attempt to do these things more often. For that reason, I stayed in the game, but I managed to give back a few licks of my own, just to let them know that I wasn't going to merely take it or act like some sort of a pushover.

Since the spectators could no longer get to me, they turned their attention to verbally harassing Darren instead.

"Hey, cutie," one inmate teased. "We noticed you and this guy are pretty friendly. Have you been letting him have a taste of your booty?"

Now everyone else began to roar with laughter.

"Hey, if he ever gets tired of doing you," the guy nearest to Darren offered, "I'd like some of that."

To emphasize his point, he grabbed his crotch and thrust his hips back and forth a couple of times in Darren's direction, as if he was having intercourse. Once he tired of doing that, because Darren refused to look in his direction and react, he stepped on the court, reached out and slapped Darren on the butt.

"Damn, kid. I've got to get you transferred to my cellblock, so we can meet up in the shower room," he announced. "I'll show you what a real man is like."

Again, some more laughter ensued, but I could tell this unwanted source of attention was making Darren extremely uncomfortable. Not only that, but I had a feeling that from this point on he probably wouldn't want to hang around me any longer, because doing so would only draw more unwanted attention to him.

I'm not sure if we had actually been outside for the full sixty minutes or if the guards just decided to end rec early after they became aware of what was going on. No matter the reason, I was grateful when I heard the whistle blow, signaling that rec period was over. When that happened, we all got into line again and some of the inmates decided to use this final opportunity to jostle me around a little more, before we were led back to our cellblocks.

When we got there, I went directly into my cell. I didn't bother to stop and explain things to Darren or see if he'd changed his mind about me, now that he knew what I was in here for. I figured that I probably already had the answer to this question, seeing he'd previously been so worried about someone raping him, so I decided to isolate myself and not make it appear as if I were stalking him. I thought this was a damn shame, because even though I didn't initially want to make friends, I was actually beginning to enjoy having him to hang out with, because it had certainly helped to make the time pass by more quickly so far. From now on, though, I'll have to survive by being a loner and staying in my cell.

I also realized this meant that not only wouldn't I be going out to rec, but I also wouldn't get to see the indoor rec room. That was the facility where the guards took the inmates during inclement weather and I was actually looking forward to seeing what they had in there. Fred had mentioned that there were two ping-pong tables, weight stations and a large-screen TV that was controlled by the COs in the room with us, instead of being set by the desk sergeant, as was done with the TVs in the cellblocks. Fred had mentioned several other things of interest as well, although I can't recall all of them right now, but I no longer felt that seeing that area would be worth putting up with the treatment I would probably receive while I was there.

I certainly didn't want to expose myself to that kind of abuse again, even though I felt badly that I also wouldn't be getting any exercise. Instead, I felt it would be more prudent to avoid rec hour from this point on, seeing everyone knew what I had done and most of them seemed to want to get a piece of me now. I suddenly found myself at the top of the jailhouse 'Most Wanted List' and a prime target, since the majority of the inmates considered me to be among the worst of the scum in here and the most despicable type of criminal.

I had been lying on my bunk for over an hour, just thinking and trying to figure out the best way to pass the time, when Darren unexpectedly appeared at my cell door.

"Is it true what they're saying about you?" he asked.

I sat up, looked him in the eye and prepared to answer his question.

"If you mean, did I get convicted for having sex with a young man, then the answer is yes," I replied, feeling I should be honest with him. "But I didn't force him and only performed oral sex on him, at his request. I never asked him to do anything to me in return and there was never any penetration. No matter what the others are saying, I didn't rape him or anyone else, and I never harmed him in any way."

"The other guys are saying some really awful things about you and that includes the pair from the other end of our cellblock," he advised me, while looking concerned. "I could hear them while I was in my cell, so I'm worried that they might try to do something to you."

"Yes, I figured they'd probably have a problem with me now, since they found out what I'd supposedly done, but I find it strange how some of these guys can be so judgmental, because I'm sure what they did isn't anything to brag about either," I replied. "I'd heard that the guy who was in the reception area with us was in here because he'd fired a loaded shotgun at his pregnant girlfriend's car, while she was sitting behind the steering wheel. From what was said, I guess he blew out the windshield and rear window with the blast, but somehow she must have ducked down and didn't get hit. He was trying to kill her and her unborn child, yet everyone in here feels that what I did was more disgusting and far worse than what he had done."

"Really? I didn't know that," Darren shot back. "I guess I'll stay clear of him then."

"That's just what the other inmates said," I confirmed. "They say he's probably only in here until his trial is over, because everyone suspects he'll be found guilty of attempted murder and then be shipped off to one of the prisons, where he'll serve out his sentence."

"Yeah, I'm sure they're probably right," Darren agreed. "Why didn't you bother to tell me that, right after you heard about it?"

"Well, I just heard it while we were outside, but since it wasn't really any of my business, I didn't feel I should be spreading the rumor," I told him. "I wouldn't typically do that, mainly because I'm not going to be judgmental of anyone else in here, since I don't know any of this for certain and have only heard the scuttlebutt."

"Then why did you mention it now?" he continued.

"I was just pointing out that the others think I'm so bad, but some of them had done some pretty bad stuff too," I replied. "I was just using it as an example, not trying to spread the rumor."

"Oh, ok, and I heard some stuff too," Darren announced, "Someone said that the one guy in our block, the bigger one who sat at the table next to us at lunch, I think his name is Roy, they said he's in here for assaulting a cop. I guess the cop was trying to arrest him for carjacking, but somehow Roy managed to get the upper hand and beat the crap out of him. I guess the cop's backup showed up just in time to stop Roy before he actually killed the cop, so he's in here waiting to go to trial too. He really scares me!"

"Yeah, there are some pretty tough characters in here, so you have to watch yourself" I agreed. "I just want you to know that I'll understand if you don't want to hang around me now either, since you know what I'm in here for."

I offered this comment in order to let him off the hook, since he'll probably end up getting just as much grief as they're giving me, if he continues hanging around my cell. He appeared to be somewhat tongue-tied after I told him this, because his jaw was moving, but no sounds were coming from his throat. Finally, he was able to overcome the problem.

"Do you WANT me to stop hanging around you?" he asked, which actually surprised me.

"No, I didn't say that," I replied. "I just thought that it might be what you'd want to do, now that you've learned what I did and have seen how the others are going to treat you, if you continue to hang around me."

"Hell no! I don't want to stop hanging out with you, so I'll just find a way to deal with that other stuff, because I still want us to do things together," he shot back. "I feel safer around you than I would with any of those other guys, no matter what they say. You just don't act like the type that would try to hurt me, but I can't say the same thing about them."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, but you heard the types of things they're going to say about you, if you continue to hang around me," I warned. "They're going to think we're doing things with each other, so it's only going to get worse for you. Are you sure you want to set yourself up like that?"

"I don't care what they think or say," he protested. "I just feel safer around you and know you'll help to protect me."

"Yes, I'll do that for you," I confirmed, "but I think you should know that I don't plan to go to rec again. That will be my way of avoiding some of those types of situations."

"Then I won't go either," he stated. "I don't need that crap and we can just exercise out in the common area instead, once the others leave."

"Well, it's your choice, so I won't try to talk you out of it," I confirmed. "Besides, I could definitely use a friend in here as well."

I was almost surprised to hear myself say this, seeing I swore previously that I would make NO friends while I was in jail. I hope I'm not setting myself up for another problem again, as I had with Jared.

Now that we had reached an agreement, I think we both felt a little better about being stuck here. Since I knew he didn't want to be alone, I went out to the common area with him and we just sat and talked until dinnertime. When we heard the guard shout for us to come and get our trays, we obediently did as we were told and took our meals to the same table we'd been sitting at. I think we were both somewhat surprised when Fred came over and sat at the table with us, but he didn't say anything at first. We weren't sure why he had decided to do this, but eventually he looked in our direction, smiled and then nodded his head. I think he'd done that to let me know that he doesn't care about what I had supposedly done as well. It was either that or he was just more afraid of the other pair in our cellblock and willing to stay close to us, so we could help to protect him too.

Once this was settled, I looked at my tray, because I hadn't yet bothered to see what was for dinner. I quickly discovered this meal consisted of a single salmon patty, which was made from chopped salmon, mixed with egg and breadcrumbs and then baked in the oven. It was dry and needed a lot of ketchup to make it palatable, but we were only given a couple of those small ketchup packets. I slapped my salmon patty between the two slices of bread that we had also been given, smothered it in what I could squeeze out of the ketchup packets, and then took a bite. We also had tatter tots, which was probably the reason we had been given the ketchup packets, corn, pudding and another carton of milk to wash it down. Most of the guys were bitching about the salmon patties, because it wasn't their favorite entree, but I suspect that not very many of them care for fish at all.

After downing this less than appetizing meal, the trays and silverware were collected, counted and taken away. Shortly after that happened, another guard came around and dropped off the list of what they sold in the inmate store and apologized for not getting it to us sooner. I immediately looked the list over, noted the things I wanted to get and quickly checked them off. I decided to buy a pair of flip-flops for the shower, a plastic cup to keep on the sink in my cell for when I wanted a drink, a couple of packages of the premixed Kool-Aid [brand of flavored drink mix in powder form], which I would use to mask the taste of the water, a package of plastic spoons, a couple of bags of chocolate chip cookies, a deck of regular playing cards, a deck of Uno cards and a magic marker, so I could mark my underwear before I sent it to the laundry.

In addition to the items I was planning to purchase, I noticed they also offered frozen pizzas, and Fred explained that the guards would microwave them before they were delivered to you, plus they also offered plastic bottles of soda, potato chips, Doritos, Cheetos, several types of cookies, pens, writing pads, envelopes, postage stamps, toothpaste, deodorant, shampoo, shaving cream, selected games and several other items that didn't interest me. It was quite an extensive general store, which not only paid for itself, but it also added some money to a general fund, which was then used to buy DVDs and various items for the rec room, as well as other things the inmates could use and enjoy.

After I'd finished making out my list, I noticed that Darren wasn't ordering anything, so I quickly asked him why.

"I've only got a couple bucks in my account, so I'd better save that for stamp money, in case I need to mail some letters out to my folks later," he replied.

I nodded my understanding, but then I quickly made some changes to my order form and listed two pairs of flip-flops and two cups, as well as increasing the amount of cookies and Kool-Aid I ordered. I didn't tell Darren that I had done this and figured I'd just surprise him with these items after they were delivered. I'd keep the cookies and Kool-Aid in my cell, but I'd tell him that he could come in and help himself any time he wanted, rather than give him his own. That way, I hoped to avoid some of the snide remarks Roy and Irvin might make about my plying him with gifts. I felt, however, that it would be ok for Darren to keep the flip-flops and cup in his own cell, because I thought he could find a way to take them there without the others finding out that I had purchased them for him.

Before long, the CO came back to collect our orders and told us that he'd be back with everything later that evening. I thanked him, and when I turned around and saw Darren, I noticed that he was looking a bit depressed, since he hadn't been able to get anything. After seeing this, I hoped my little surprise would perk him up when it arrived, but I knew he'd have to suffer through this bout of self-pity until then.

While I was observing Darren's reaction, Fred came over and asked Darren and I if we wanted to play cards. This innocuous offer seemed to indicate that he wasn't going to shun me, now that he also knew what I was in for. He could have asked the other pair to do this, but then again they were at the far end of the cellblock watching what was on TV. When Fred saw me looking in their direction, I guess he thought I was going to ask them to join us.

"Please don't say anything to them," he pleaded. "They're not much fun, if you know what I mean."

"Oh, I wasn't going to do anything like that," I stated, "because I don't think they're very fond of me, so I'd rather not be around them either."

After saying this, I released what amounted to a half-huff, half-chuckle, since he'd surprised me with his response.

Darren and I then sat down with him to play and that's when we learned the deck of cards belonged to him. He mentioned that he had purchased it from the inmate store shortly after he first got here, but then he added that we could use it whenever we wanted. After a few minutes of playing in silence, I decided to speak.

"Fred, I just want to thank you for not turning on me, like some of the others did earlier," I stated.

"Hey, we're all in here for doing something wrong and the only thing I see as being worse than what any of the rest of us have done is if someone killed someone else," he indicated.

At least he was more open-minded about such things than most of the others, so I knew we were going to get along.

"Well, I think I can speak for both of us when I say that Darren and I both appreciate your willingness to be friends with us," I added.

"Heck, it's no big deal," he stated, while looking slightly embarrassed that I was making such a big deal out of this.

While we were playing cards, Fred took some time to fill us in with a little more information about this place. He explained that there were four wings on each level, but the front wing on the ground level, which we were in, was directly behind the administrative area, which also contained the kitchen and laundry facilities. He told us that each of the three levels consisted of four wings each and that all of the wings on the first two floors, along with three of the wings on the third floor were exactly the same. He said each wing had four cellblocks, with each one containing five individual cells. There were two cellblocks on each end of the wing, placed back to back, with a small, locked maintenance space separating them, where all the plumbing was located, before connecting to the various cells. He also told us there was a group shower area in between the four cellblocks, which we'd get to use three times a week.

When I questioned why the jail was so big, seeing the county wasn't very large, Fred had an answer for that too. He stated it wasn't that our county had a lot of criminals, but the county officials had this large facility built so they could take in inmates from neighboring counties that lacked space or to hold state prisoners who were waiting to be transferred to a penitentiary.

The county had decided they could make some money charging the other counties and state slightly more than it actually cost to run things, because they knew there was a statewide shortage of inmate housing. Those in charge felt that if the other counties or state didn't want to pay so much, then they could either look for somewhere else to keep their prisoners or build their own facilities, since they knew that neither would likely happen. The county then used the profit it generated to not only cover the cost of boarding the local inmates, but so it could also purchase additional equipment and pay some of the other administrative expenses. It also meant the county was able to create a few extra jobs locally, which helped the residents of the county as well.

Fred then told us that for the most part the local prisoners were kept on the first floor, prisoners from other counties primarily on the second floor and state inmates on the top floor. Seeing there were four cellblocks to each wing and five prisoners per cellblock, this meant that each wing had a maximum of twenty inmates, which came to a grand total of eighty inmates on each of the first two levels, when at full capacity. That figure was capable of doubling, however, since each cell could technically house two inmates each.

The third floor wasn't quite the same. Although three of the wings were similar to the other two floors, the rear wing was set up differently. In that wing, there were only three cellblocks, with each cellblock having a door at each end, so it could be divided. There was a solid metal wall that split those cellblocks just short of the middle, which left two cells on one side and three on the other, but the wall prevented the two sides from interacting with each other. The side with two cells had only one table, while the side with three cells had two tables.

This arrangement, of splitting the cellblock in this fashion, served two purposes. Any of those cells could be used for prisoners that needed to be placed in protective custody, or more accurately limited access, because they might be harmed by other inmates. Those smaller areas could also be used as temporary housing for juveniles, age 14 to 17, that were being charged as adults, because minors couldn't be put in a cellblock with anyone 18 or older.

In the area where there was only one cellblock, on the rear side of that cellblock, where another cellblock would have normally been located, there were ten isolation cells. There were five of these units where the cells would normally have been, if it had been another cellblock, and then there were five more isolation cells across from them, against the outer wall. Since there was no common area for these cells, it left a walkway in between the two areas. The isolation cells had four solid walls, with no bars, with a heavy-duty solid door, which had two small openings in it.

The first opening was a slot through which the COs could pass meals or other items to the inmate, as well as being able to use it to handcuff the prisoner before the door was opened. That opening was equipped with a small, hinged door, which opened downward and could be closed and locked when not in use. There was also a 6" x 6" window in the upper part of the door, complete with bulletproof glass, which the guards used observe the prisoner. Other than those differences, the interior of the isolation cells was similar to the cells in the various cellblocks, except there was only one platform in each cell that could be used as a bed.

The prisoners in these cells were generally placed there because they were either violent, seriously uncooperative or on suicide watch. Those inmates had to stay in the cell 23/7 and were only let out for an hour of rec time. Since they weren't allowed any interaction with other inmates, they had to take this hour in one of several small individual recreation cages on the roof, weather permitting, but these cages didn't give them much room to exercise in.

Darren and I found this information interesting and thanked Fred for helping us to understand how this place operated. At least now we knew some other reasons why we didn't want to get into trouble, plus we were also now aware that the jail administrators were doing their best to protect local prisoners from outsiders and more violent offenders. My only thought was, if the guys who'd been screaming at me and trying to rough me up weren't the most dangerous prisoners in here, then what might some of those other guys be capable of doing?

During this time, and even after he finished telling us these things, we continued playing both pitch and hearts. Every time I glanced up, I would notice that Darren was still silently moping and not totally paying attention to the games. I knew this was due to the fact that he was still feeling sorry for himself, because he hadn't been able to order any goodies from the inmate store, and even though I felt sorry for him, I continued to let him stew about it, since I didn't want to spoil the surprise.

This continued until our coffee was delivered, with cream and sugar already added, and while we were enjoying that, the guard returned with our orders. Each person's purchases had been placed in a paper bag, with his name clearly written on the outside, and we were called over and handed our things. I took my bag directly to my cell, since I wanted to see if Darren would show up to see what I had purchased, and he didn't disappoint me.

"What'd you get?" he wanted to know, as soon as he reached my cell.

"Oh, only a few things to make life more bearable," I told him.

I didn't look up to see his expression, because by this time I was taking everything out of the bag and placing it on my cot. When I finally glanced in his direction, he was looking my purchases over, but he had a puzzled look on his face.

"Why'd you get two cups and two pairs of flip-flops?" he asked.

"So I could give one of each to you," I answered, while flashing him a grin.

I then picked up those items, and when I turned around to extend them toward him, I noticed he now had a shocked expression plastered across his face.

"You didn't need to do that, man," he blurted out.

Darren almost sounded apologetic, but I could tell he was also very moved and pleased.

"Hey, I did it because we're friends," I explained. "I also bought plenty of Kool-Aid and cookies, so you can come in here and share them with me. Ok?"

A small grin crept across his face.

"Thanks, man," he replied. "Damn, I knew I was right about you."

He slapped me on the back in appreciation and then put his arm across my shoulder and gave me a sort of semi-hug. I think this was merely an impulsive gesture on his part and he didn't fully realize what he was doing, but then he removed his arm abruptly, after a few seconds.

Darren thanked me several more times for my kindness and then proudly carried his new possession to his cell, before I had a chance to mention that he should wait and try to do it on the sly. Unfortunately, the bullies from the other end of the cellblock spotted him carrying the flip-flops and cup back to his own cell and pounced on this immediately.

"Did your lover boy buy you a present?" one of the dumbbell duo asked.

"No, but my friend did," Darren replied, while not letting the bastard get under his skin. "I told him I'd pay him back later."

"Oh, I'm sure you did," the other one chimed in. "Just not with money."

After he said this, they both began to chuckle, but Darren merely walked into his cell and put his new acquisitions away.

After that, Darren, Fred and I decided to watch a little TV as well, but we sat apart from the other two and took seats at the middle table. While we were doing this, I noticed Roy and Irvin kept giving us nasty looks and whispering between themselves, so I decided it would be best to steer clear of them, at least as much as I could, from this point forward.

Just before 11:00, it was announced that lights out would take place in five minutes, so we watched the end of the program and then went back to our individual cells. I ended up brushing my teeth in the dark, so I made a mental note to brush after the coffee was served from now on.

About thirty minutes after lights out, we began to hear a series of catcalls, as the other inmates tried to intimidate those they felt were more disgusting than themselves, or just more vulnerable, and the majority of these comments were directed toward me. It was clearly evident that I was going to get more than my share of this treatment.

"Hey, baby-raper," I heard one guy call out, "why don't you do us all a favor and hang yourself before morning."

"Yeah, string yourself up and do the world a favor, especially those kids you've raped," someone else added.

"Hey, asshole Bob," another voice shouted, "what pleasure do you get from doing shit with little boys? Find yourself a fucking woman, you creep."

"He must have such a small dick that a woman would laugh at it," someone else added, "so when he compares it to a little boy's cock, his looks huge. That's why he only does it with kids."

That earned a huge laugh and an assortment of comments in agreement.

"It may be little, but if I ever get near him, it will be fucking gone," someone else threatened. "I'll either rip it off or cut his mother-fucking dick off and jam it down his throat."

I guess this was pretty typical treatment for someone with a similar conviction and it wasn't unique to me. From what I had been told, the inmates would try to get those who disgusted them to commit suicide or face being harassed and assaulted during the entire time they were confined. I chose to ignore their comments, but it didn't help and they persisted.

"Hey, Roy," someone called out to the guy in our cellblock who'd been giving me dirty looks all night. "You'd better call and tell your wife not to bring your son to visit you anymore or else that pervert will begin drooling and trying to get a piece of your son's ass."

I knew this comment was meant to enrage Roy, so maybe he'd assault me later and take care of the situation for them. I think the instigator wanted Roy to think it would be a preventative attack, to keep his son safe, but that's one of the stupidest aspects about the guy's remark. Since we were all locked up, how in the hell would anyone suspect that I could get to Roy's son, even if I wanted to? It's amazing how some of these simple minds work.

There were a lot more similar comments made before they quit, but they finally gave up on this verbal assault, since they weren't getting a rise out of me. When this happened, my tormentors merely turned their attention to a new target.

"Oh, Darren sweetie," one husky voice offered, in a high falsetto. "If you like what you're getting from old Bobby-boy over there, then me and my buddies would love to show you an even better time."

Once he said this, he let out a husky laugh, which actually sounded kind of sinister, and this caused me to do some thinking on my own about what these jackasses were doing. I found it somewhat shocking that while they were busy belittling me for what they believed I had done, such as raping a boy, yet nearly everyone of them would have been happy to ram his cock up Darren's virgin ass, just so he could get his rocks off. I guess it just goes to prove that they have their own warped sense of morality and it wasn't that they were actually objecting to the act they incorrectly thought that I'd done. Besides, Darren wasn't that much older than Jared.

I also realized these current comments must be quite unsettling for Darren too, but I was hoping that he would be strong enough not to break down and give them any sense of satisfaction. He seemed to be holding up, since I hadn't heard a sound from his cell, but I planned to talk to him in the morning, to make certain that he wasn't letting this get to him. I'm almost positive that he'll need some support from me, and possibly even from Fred, in order to be able to resist reacting to this blatant harassment, but I'm determined to help him through this low point in his life.

This verbal abuse continued for a little while longer, but since they weren't getting a rise from either Darren or me, they finally gave up. About an hour after things quieted down, I finally fell asleep, thus ending the first stressful day of my confinement.

The second day started out when one of the COs came by and began shouting that it was time to wake up and the cell doors all opened. I got out of bed, walked over to the sink in my cell and splashed a little water on my face, before I went to the toilet. A few minutes later, the CO came back pushing a small cart, with a collection of disposable razors on it, and asked if anyone wanted to shave. Those who had done this before had a razor with their name taped to it, but there was also a pack of new disposable razors for those of us who didn't have one yet.

I didn't feel as if I needed to shave today and decided to wait a day or two more before doing that. What did I care if I looked like shit in here? It wasn't as if any of these people were my friends or I was trying to impress any of them. Anyway, since I wasn't going to shave, I just kind of lounged around on my bed and mentally went over what had happened the previous day, while I waited for breakfast to be served. Before that happened, however, Darren showed up in my cell again.

"Hey, kiddo. How are you doing after last night?" I asked.

I was hoping he wasn't taking the things that were being shouted at him last night to heart or letting the other assholes get to him too badly.

"They've got to do better than that if they want to upset me," he answered, although he didn't appear to be as confident as he sounded. "I actually fell asleep while they were spouting that crap."

"Good for you and I'm glad to hear it," I concurred.

I was pleased to see that he seemed to be handling the situation quite well, especially since he had accidentally set himself up for that abuse by being willing to be my friend.

Around 7:00 breakfast was delivered. Seeing this was my first breakfast here, I was interested in learning how my days would begin from now on, since I was going to be stuck in this hole for several months. For breakfast, we were each given one of those individual boxes of cereal, but none of us were given a choice of which variety was on our tray. The tray also contained a scoop of scrambled eggs and a couple of pieces of cold, mostly dry toast, to round out this disaster. There was also the standard carton of milk, which we could use on our cereal, and a similar size carton of orange juice. Now, after having seen an example of the culinary delights I would be receiving each morning, I assumed I would most likely be losing some weight during my stay here.

After we finished eating our breakfast, a CO came by to tell me my lawyer was here, and since I wasn't expecting him, I must have appeared more than a little surprised and confused. I couldn't imagine why Bruno would come by to see me again so soon, unless he had discovered some new information about my situation. However, the real surprise came when I walked into the small room and discovered it wasn't Bruno – it was Jack Coughlin.

"Jack, I never expected to see you here," I told him.

"Well, I'm here on business," he announced, which confused me even more. "I called Dick after I learned you'd been sentenced, and he and I arranged a conference call with your publisher, so we could discuss your current situation. I'm happy to inform you that they have expressed no hesitation about continuing to publish your stories. After we finished that call, Dick and I talked it over and decided that since I live closer to you than he does, I would come to see you and discuss a proposition. We've worked out a way to keep you productive while you're in here, since you'll need to continue to fatten your bank account in order to cover all of the bills until you get back on your feet."

"But I have quite a bit of money in the bank already," I protested.

"You do for now, but I've projected your expenses out over the time you'll be here and have concluded that your funds will be dreadfully low by the time you get out," he countered. "If there is any kind of emergency in the meantime, such as something needing to be repaired at the house, a vet bill for the puppy or any other unexpected surprise, you might not have enough left to cover it. Besides, we want you to have plenty left over so you'll be able to survive and possibly even take a little vacation after you get out of this place."

I thought about his comment briefly and realized he was probably correct.

"Thanks for thinking about these things and taking care of me while I'm locked up," I stated.

"No problem. That's why you hired me, remember?" he replied, with a chuckle and a wink. "So allow me to continue looking after your contractual agreements and financial needs."

"Thanks, Jack. I don't know what I'd do without you, Dick and even Bruno," I told him, and I sincerely meant that.

"Thanks. Now, I brought you a stack of legal pads [notebook with a gum binding at the top], a few more pens and a couple of pencils, so you can continue to write while you're in here," he continued. "The guards are currently doing an inspection of those various items I brought along, to make sure I'm not trying to smuggle any contraband in with them, so they'll give them to you later.

"Dick and I decided that you could continue writing your stories longhand and then I'll have one of the people in my office type them up on the computer," Jack continued. "I will pay her an appropriate hourly wage for doing this, but any of the people I might use are all very efficient, so it shouldn't take too long to type up each chapter and then I'll deduct that amount out of your royalties later.

"Once that person is done with each chapter," Jack added, "then I'll email the document to Dick, so he can make his suggestions, as he normally does, and then he'll send it back to me. I'll have it printed off, so I can bring it to you on my next visit, and then you can make your changes. Once you give them back to me, I'll have the changes made to your original document and then send it back to Dick. If he's satisfied with it, then he'll send it along to your editor and we'll go through the same process with her. How does that sound to you?"

"It sounds absolutely terrific," I replied. "You are a godsend. I never anticipated that you'd go to so much trouble for me, but I really appreciate it."

"It's my pleasure," he responded. "When you write, you make money for all of us, so I'm going to keep you productive. It just makes good economic sense."

Even though I knew there was probably more to this than what he was willing to admit, such as possibly Dick and he had decided to do this to keep my mind occupied and help protect my mental health while I was incarcerated, I appreciated their efforts and made no further comments. However, I was immensely grateful that he and Dick had arranged this, because it will not only help to pass the time and possibly even help to put me in a more positive mood, because I won't be merely wasting my time while I'm confined.

"If it's alright with you, I'll come by once a week to pick up what you've written and drop off anything I've gotten back from Dick or your editor," Jack continued, breaking me free from my thoughts. "If you need anything else from us, such as some background material or research on a particular topic, then tell the guards you need to call your lawyer, so you can advise me about your requirements."

That's when I realized I needed him to go to the house and bring me copies of the chapters and notes from the stories I had been working on before I was arrested. I would need those things if I wanted to continue those stories, so I asked him to copy those files off of my computer, print them out and then bring them in to me on his next visit.

Once that was settled, I thanked him again, shook his hand and he left. When the CO came to lead me back to my cell, he handed me the bag with the additional supplies that Jack had just brought. After taking it from him, I clung to those items tightly, because they were like a breath of fresh air in this place. I then followed the CO back to my cellblock, and when we got there, I took the bag directly to my cell and rummaged through the contents.

Before I could do more than put the items away, Darren showed up in my cell.

"I hope there wasn't a problem," he observed, as he entered.

"No, nothing like that," I replied. "It was my literary attorney, who's also taking care of things for me while I'm locked up. He brought me a bunch of legal pads, pens and pencils so I could use my time to be productive."

I pulled out one of the yellow legal pads to show him.

"I'm glad it wasn't something serious," he followed. "Do you want me to leave so you can write then?"

When I turned and looked at his face, I could tell he would do this if I asked, but I think he was hoping I wouldn't request that he leave.

"Do you have something to you can do while I write?" I asked, feeling slightly guilty.

"Not really, unless Fred wants to play cards or something," he answered.

"Don't you have any other interests? You know, things you could do while you're in here, besides just play cards," I pressed, feeling sorry for the kid. "Maybe something you could do in here while I write?"

"I like to read and draw," he answered. "I guess I could do one of those things."

"Great! Do you have a book to read or something to draw on?" I asked, in order to clarify if he could actually do this.

"Not right now," he responded. "I guess I could ask a trusty to get me a couple of books from the rec room. Fred said they have two large bookcases there that are filled with paperbacks that you can check out, but since we're not going to rec, maybe one of the trusties would be willing to do that for me."

"Yes, I suppose you could do that, just not right at this moment," I pointed out. "If you like to draw, you can use one of my legal pads and a pencil, if you want. I know there are lines on the paper, but if that doesn't bother you, you're welcome to take one."

"Yeah, if you wouldn't mind," he agreed.

I handed Darren a legal pad and a pencil and he sat down on my bunk to try his had at this new way to pass the time, while I sat down at the small table to begin writing. Since I wouldn't be able to work on the other stories until Jack brought back the things that I'd requested, I sat down and began to work on the concept for a new story that I'd been kind of toying with since I'd been stuck in here. I would continue working on the other stories again, once Jack brought me the things I needed, but for now I'd try to flesh out this new idea.

You see, I'd been thinking about writing a story about an eighteen-year old who gets involved with a gang, finds himself caught up in their macho world of crime, drugs and sex, and then ends up getting arrested for dealing. He gets convicted at trial and sent to prison, so I figured that I might be able to use some of my current experiences to provide the necessary background information and emotional depth that I would need to make the incarceration sections seem believable. Keeping this in mind, I began to write an initial outline for the story.

Carefully, I began to jot down the various events that I wanted to happen in this story and then I tried to place those items in a logical sequence, so that later I'd be able to insert them into the various chapter synopses that I thought I could use them in. Doing this would help me to determine, in advance, what types of things I might need Jack, or more accurately someone from his office, to do for me, such as gather additional background information or do research on a particular topic. Now that I was thinking about writing again, I was getting really psyched.

I slaved away on this and tried to get as much done as possible, but I did stop to eat when lunch was served. I had to remember that this wasn't like home, where I could keep writing for as long as I needed and then get up and grab something to eat when I was ready to take a break. Therefore, I'd have to adjust the way I operated to accommodate having to stop for meals when they were served. This would be a big change for me, so I really hoped that having to do this wouldn't cause me to lose my train of thought while I was chowing down.

Before we left the cell to pick up our trays, however, Darren was eager to show me what he had been working on. Damn, he was actually pretty good and had drawn some sketches of animals, both real and mythical, as well as some more sinister looking images involving skulls and various weapons. After seeing how well he had done, I praised his ability, but it also made me decide to do something else for him, except what I wanted to do would have to wait for the time being.

After coming to this conclusion, I began to think that this might work out for both us, so being here wouldn't seem so bad. I was, however, a little concerned about the abuse Darren might get from Beavis and Butthead, especially if he started to spend so much time in my cell, but then again, I felt they were going to be a problem no matter what we did.

Chapter 23
The Trying Times

After Darren and I finally set down the things we were working on, we went out to grab our trays. Today's lunch consisted of a hot dog, potato chips, some pickles, a scoop of pork & beans and a couple of cookies, along with a carton of milk – another wonderful meal. Damn, this was worse than the school lunches I remembered from when I was a kid.

To get my mind off of this disappointing lunch fare, immediately after I finished eating, I went back to work and began to flesh out the ideas I wanted to include in this story. I had been working on it for only a short time before rec hour was announced, but Darren and I decided not to join in the fun this time. Fred told us we could use his cards while he was gone and we thanked him, but I'd purchased my own deck of cards and an Uno deck too. However, since he offered, we used his deck for part of the time and played some double-solitaire, but we also took part of the hour to do some simple exercises, to make Darren feel a little better about not going outside.

We basically did that until everyone returned and then Darren and I went back to our cells. He was going to draw some more and I was going to write, but as soon as the COs disappeared from sight, I started to hear a slew of derogatory comments being shouted from some of the other cellblocks in our wing, about me being a pussy for not going out to rec. It seems that I must have inadvertently spoiled some of their recreational plans, such as taking away their opportunity to beat me up for exercise.

Although it took a great deal of effort on my part, I was able to tune out their verbal abuse, so when they realized they weren't getting to me, they began to include Darren in on their abusive treatment, since he had stayed in with me. When I heard this, I went down to his cell, to check on him, and I could immediately tell that their comments were starting to get to him. They were yelling and asking why he didn't come out for rec, before they began to suggest it was so I could have some fun with him in private, although their comments weren't exactly phrased in such polite or simple terms.

Our tormentors were making kissing noises, grunting sounds and moans, like someone in the throes of a sexual climax, so they'd obviously used their extremely tiny minds to conclude that we were now a couple and involved sexually. This meant Darren and I were going to have to be even more careful about being singled out, especially when we weren't in the cellblock. The possibilities of what some of these guys might try to do to us if they caught us somewhere alone now seemed far worse than what we had first imagined.

A short time later, it was announced that in about twenty minutes our cellblock would be let out to use the group shower facility in our wing, so we should get ready, if we wanted to do this. Seeing I was used to showering daily, this was more than just a luxury for me, it was an absolute necessity, especially since we'd been told we were only going to be able to shower three times a week. The only problem was, I wondered if this might lead to a whole new set of problems for me.

The guard told us to strip down, wrap our towels around our waists and then get in line, as we waited to be taken to the shower area. As Fred had told us, this was just a large, gym-type shower, with six showerheads on one wall and four on the other wall, where the entrance was. I went to the far end to shower to get away from the others, after leaving my towel in the outer area. When I turned toward the showerhead, I noticed that Darren had followed me and was taking the showerhead next to mine, while Fred took one on the opposite wall.

Fred seemed to be exhibiting some noticeable trepidation about being in here, but I wasn't sure if it was because he was worried about me or if he was concerned about how Roy and Irvin were going to react. Maybe he was afraid that they might try to attack me, so since he had taken a showerhead closer to us than the other pair, I concluded he had either done this so he could help protect us or because he felt safer being around Darren and me.

Roy and Irvin stayed at the other end of the shower, which left some open showerheads between them and us. There were liquid soap dispensers built into the wall, below the showerhead, so there were no bars of soap to pass around, let alone that could get dropped, if you catch my drift. The soap would also have to double as our shampoo, unless you had brought your own bottle, which you could purchase from the inmate store. I quickly adjusted the temperature of the water, took a nice healthy squirt of soap and began to lather up my body.

I did my best to keep my eyes closed or stare straight ahead at the wall, so no one would think I was checking them out, but it was kind of hard not to take advantage of Darren standing right next to me. I did glance over at him a few times, out of the corner of my eye, and noticed that he had a fairly decent looking body, which he didn't seem to be trying to hide from me. In fact, he was standing at an angle, so he was facing in my direction, rather than turning his back to me. This allowed me to see that he was fairly hairless, except for his pubes, legs, underarms and head, plus he looked to be in great shape. He also had a nice dick, which swung about as he moved around under the spray and hung over a nice pair of low hanging balls.

I managed to gather all of these details by only glancing at him for a few seconds at a time, because I didn't dare turn directly toward him to inspect his package. Absolutely no one said a word while we were in there and when we were done, we dried off, wrapped our towels around our waists again and were led back to our cells.

Once I entered mine, I put on some clean underwear, but then I had to slip into the same orange jumpsuit, because it was only swapped out once a week, when the laundry trusty collected our things to be washed. At least it felt good to be clean and have on clean underwear, even if the outer garment wasn't quite as fresh. Once that process was completed, I sat down to write some more, but only until Darren showed up at my cell door again.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

"Of course you may," I responded. "What's on your mind?"

"I noticed you didn't get hard when we were soaping up next to each other," he stated.

His comment let me know that that he had been checking me out as well, but possibly for a different reason.

"I'm glad," he continued, "because I thought you might get aroused in there."

"Darren, didn't I tell you this wouldn't be a problem and you don't have to worry about anything?" I responded. "I only do things with willing partners and don't merely get aroused every time I'm around other naked guys. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not the rapist everyone in here is trying to make me out to be, so you have nothing to worry about."

"I know," he confirmed, while looking embarrassed that he had mentioned this. "I just wanted to let you know I appreciated that. I was a little nervous when we first went in, but it didn't take long for me to get over that. I guess I was more worried that one of those other two guys might try something and not that I was worried about you."

"I don't think that will happen, as long as Fred, you and I stick together," I offered, hoping that would make him feel better.

"Yeah, you're probably right," he agreed.

After saying this, he asked me if I wanted to come out and join Fred and him in a game of cards. I started to say 'no,' because I was hoping to do some writing, but I could tell he needed me to do this for him. Since I didn't want to hurt his feelings, I agreed to play for up to an hour, but I also told him I wanted to do some work after that.

As we moved toward the table Fred was sitting at, I realized I was going to have more trouble finding time to write than I had first imagined, because it seemed that Darren was going to need some of my time as well. Before I sat down, I decided to ask them if they'd rather play Uno instead, for a little change of pace, and they quickly agreed. I then went back to my cell and collected my Uno deck, and then Fred, Darren and I were soon involved in a very heated game.

After we had played for about an hour, I advised them that I was going to quit for now and headed back to my cell. I immediately went back to work on laying the groundwork for my next story, but I wasn't alone for very long. A couple of minutes later, Darren came back carrying the legal pad that I had given him, and then he sat down on my bunk and began to draw. That's how we remained, until our dinner trays were delivered.

When we went out to pick up our trays, we discovered that tonight's fare seemed to be a step up from the previous meals we had received, or at least more filling. This time we had meatloaf, mashed potatoes, a tossed salad with Italian dressing and a scoop of pudding. I was confused when I heard a little grumbling, from the dumbbell duo about the meal, but the rest of us were quite pleased with tonight's selection. After we finished cleaning off our trays, there was another delay before everything was collected again, so I went back to my cell to write. Darren followed me in there and we both went back to what we were doing until coffee was served.

Well, to be accurate, tonight we were served tea, which I didn't mind. However, Darren didn't seem to care for tea, so he gave me his cup as well. I quickly dumped it into the cup I had purchased, since I knew I wouldn't be able to finish both cups before the trusty came back to collect them. Seeing he had given me his drink, I told him to go get his cup from his cell and make some Kool-Aid instead. I also went out and asked Fred to join us, which he did, and then I offered each of them a couple of cookies from my stash. We enjoyed this little dessert, along with our drinks, as we hung out in my cell.

I have to admit that I was glad that Darren and Fred were in this cellblock with me, because they made it easier to survive and I realized that I would have been far worse off without them. Since they were helping me, I wanted to make certain that I helped to make the time we were together a little more bearable for them as well.

When we finished our little coffee klatch, Fred went back to the common area, and I quickly brushed my teeth. After Darren got back from doing the same, he sat on my bunk and started to draw again, while I continued to write. We did this until lights out, which came at precisely 11:00.

Now that I was alone again, I began to reflect upon the past twenty-four hours and realized I had made some significant headway, even though I was still in this awful place. Jack was making it possible for me to continue making a living, I'd made one friend and another who was willing to tolerate me, but I'd also learned that I could survive avoiding rec and spending the entire day in the confines of our cellblock. I'd find a way to make this work for me and would survive by playing the hand I was dealt, so I lie on my bunk feeling confident that I was going to make the best out of a bad situation.

My euphoria was soon dampened a bit when the nightly catcalls began anew. Their hostility toward me was fueled to even greater heights when the dumbbell duo informed the others that I had purchased some 'gifts' for Darren. Now, their attention shifted from me to him, but my confidence was building that Darren could handle this abuse as well. Once again he didn't crack under pressure and kept quiet, while maintaining his composure and letting the idiots shout themselves hoarse. What a fitting resolution.

The following morning started off as they all would from now on, at least until I was released. At 6:00, one of the guards came along and shouted for us to wake up, while unlocking our cells. Shortly thereafter, another CO came through pushing the cart with the razors and asking who wanted to shave. I decided to ask for a razor this time and was soon handed one that the CO had marked with my name. I took it into my cell to shave, so I could utilize both the sink and the stainless steel mirror on the wall. The mirror didn't provide a very good reflection, but it made the chore of shaving slightly less difficult and I managed to do a passable job. A half-hour later, the guard returned to collect the razors and was very careful to make sure that he rounded up the same number of items that he had handed out earlier.

When breakfast arrived, Fred came down to sit with us again and we ate together. Shortly after the trays were picked up, one of the COs came to the cellblock door and shouted out.

"Lee, your lawyer is here to see you," he announced.

I was curious to see who responded to this, since I didn't know anyone's last name yet, and I was somewhat surprised to see Darren get up and walk toward the exit from our little cage. I would have never guessed it was his last name, because it sounded sort of oriental, but I guess I was wrong. So he's Darren Lee, is he?

I sat down to write while he was gone and it was nearly an hour before he was escorted back to the cellblock. It must have been a fairly serious talk about the charges he was facing, so I was wondering if he'd mention any of this to me, since I didn't want to ask and make him to think I was prying. Once the cellblock door was locked again, he walked into my cell.

"Welcome back," I teased, when I saw him.

"I need your advice," he immediately began, without any sort of greeting.

"About what?" I asked.

I assumed it had to do with the visit from his attorney, but it was possible that it might have to do with something else, such as something he'd overheard or seen on his way there or on the way back. Until he told me though, I couldn't be sure.

"I just spent all that time with the Public Defender who's been assigned to defend me and he wanted to discuss what sort of options I'd agree to," he began. "He said he'd try to see if he could get the D.A. to offer us a deal, but he wanted to know what I'd be agreeable to first."

"You mean he has one or is just trying to get you one?" I wondered. "Usually he'd have an offer first and then come to you to discuss it, not the other way around."

"I think my lawyer is new to the job, so I don't have a lot of confidence in him," Darren announced. "I had to take a Public Defender, because I couldn't afford a lawyer, and I think they gave me someone that just got out of college and is starting his first job. I really don't think he's even defended anyone else yet, even though he didn't tell me that."

"I see and I'm sorry to hear he's so green," I commiserated. "Did he give you any ideas?"

"He was throwing a lot of terms around, but I'm not sure I understood everything he was talking about," Darren confessed. "I think he said something about assault or battery, but maybe that was all one term. I don't quite remember. I think he also said something about harassment, criminal mischief, disorderly conduct and some other things too."

"Well, I'm not a lawyer and shouldn't be giving you, or anyone else, legal advice," I responded. "This is especially true since you can't really give me all of the details, but let me ask you a question. Do you think there's any way possible that you can beat the charge completely?"

"I doubt it, because I kinda said some things afterward, like he deserved it when I hit him," he replied. "There were also quite a few witnesses who saw what I did, so I'm just hoping I only end up doing a year or less and won't have to go to prison."

"Ok, then let me give you this piece of advice," I offered. "I will tell you this much, and that is before you agree to any deal, ask your lawyer if the charge that's being offered is a felony or a misdemeanor first. Don't accept a felony deal, unless there's absolutely no other option."

"Ok, I think I can do that," he agreed.

"What's your lawyer's name?" I asked next, because I didn't want to see him end up getting screwed.

"Why?" he wanted to know.

"Because I'm going to have a friend of mine get in touch with him, to see if he can help get you the best deal possible," I answered.

After he gave me this information, I talked to the CO when he made his next rounds and told him that I needed to call my lawyer. Since they have to let us make legal calls, he agreed, but he wanted to know why I had to talk to my attorney, if I was already convicted and sentenced. I merely told him that he was handling some other matters for me as well, so he took me out of the cellblock and let me use the phone.

I called Bruno, gave him the Public Defender's name and asked him to work with the guy to get my friend the best deal possible. After assuring him that I'd cover any fees that were required to pay for his time, he agreed and I went back to my cell. I didn't say anything to Darren about what I'd just done, but I hoped that this would keep him from being treated too harshly for his drunken lack of judgment.

I spent most of my time writing after that and stayed in my cell. After lunch, when rec time was called, Darren and I didn't go again and decided to work out in the common area of our cellblock instead, so we'd stay in shape. We stripped down to our underwear and then did push ups, sit-ups, squat thrusts and leg lifts to make up for not going outside, and when we finished, we sponged off, put on clean underwear and then he joined me back in my cell again. When the others returned from rec, each of them glanced in at us, with Roy and Irvin giving us dirty looks.

"Did you two have time to fuck while we were gone," Roy spat out, as he stopped outside my cell. "Real cute staying back, so you'd be all alone, but everyone in here knows what you guys are doing."

"Then everyone knows wrong," Darren shouted back.

After they walked away, I told him just to ignore Roy and not give him any satisfaction by acknowledging anything he said. They were going to think what they wanted, no matter what we had to say, so I told him to save his breath and just ignore the comments. Once he realized I was right, we both went back to what we were doing.

When things quieted down later, Fred came down and filled us in about what happened at rec and some of the things that had been said out there. We listened to what he reported, but didn't let any of it get to us, because we had already surmised things like that were going to be said and thought. We thanked Fred for keeping us informed and helping to cover our backs, and then we all went out to the common area to play cards for a while.

We did that until dinnertime, when we took a quick break to eat. Afterward, we decided to just watch TV for the rest of the night and sat at the middle table again, while Roy and Irvin sat at the table closest to the screen. We certainly didn't want to join them or get in their way, because we were leery of what they might do if either of those things were to happen.

After watching the news and a couple of mind-numbing shows, one of those police dramas came on. It was a fairly interesting story about a young woman who was raped and we followed the police officers as they investigated several potential suspects. Over the course of the next thirty or forty minutes, each of the possible perpetrators was eliminated, before the actual assailant was finally identified and apprehended. It was a total shocker and the rapist turned out to be someone none of us had even considered as being responsible.

"Whoa! I certainly didn't see that one coming," I confessed, speaking to Darren and Fred.

"Yeah, that surprised me too," Darren agreed.

"Maybe he's not really the one," Fred offered, since he wasn't convinced this guy was guilty.

"It's possible, but seeing the hour is nearly up, either they've got their man or this story will be continued next week," I observed.

When I looked up to watch the screen again, I saw Roy and Irvin staring in our direction and making faces, and then they began whispering back and forth, although I had no idea what they might be saying. Once the program ended, it was time for lights out, so we all went to our cells and got ready to sleep. We had only been in there for about ten minutes, when the catcalls started again.

The harassment continued for about thirty minutes and the statements were basically the same as the night before, but since they weren't getting a rise out of Darren or me, they eventually stopped. As I lie on my bunk, I wondered how much longer these nightly sessions were going to continue, because I didn't think they could possibly keep this up until I was released, but then again I guess I could be mistaken. There's a constant turnover in inmates, with fresh blood coming in on a regular basis, so as long as the others were able to get them riled up about what I had done, then I imagine it might be possible for them to keep this going.

Regardless of what the future holds concerning how the other inmates are going to treat me, I had to stay focused on each day as it came. I could deal with the verbal harassment, since the physical abuse had ended when I stopped going to rec, so I would do my time and try to get through it as unscathed as possible. I fell asleep while still contemplating these same thoughts.

The following morning, when breakfast was delivered, Roy called the CO over and spoke to him privately. None of us had any idea what it was about, but Roy definitely had a very sour expression on his face and was very animated while speaking with the CO. Obviously, something was bothering him and I could only assume that it had to do with me.

Since the other guys from the cellblock behind us, as well as those in the cellblocks at the other end of our wing, would shout out obscenities directed toward me every night, I'm sure it was weighing on the nerves of the others in my cellblock as well. When you add that to what the inmates that went out with our wing for rec had to say, it may have been getting under Roy's skin. Fred had warned us that he thought the guys at rec were not only saying things about me, but they also seemed to trying to get Roy and Irvin to do something about me, which I took to mean as some sort of physical attack.

Whatever the problem was, once he spoke to the CO, things returned to normal. I went into my cell to write, and a short time later, Darren came into my cell to join me, although he just sat on my bed and drew on the legal pad. We did this until lunch was delivered and he wanted to show me what he'd done before we went out to collect our trays. This time he had drawn caricatures of each of us in the cellblock, including himself. I thought these were very clever and extremely well done, but I warned him not to leave the drawings where Roy and Irvin might be able to see them. There's no telling how they might react if they saw these simple caricatures of themselves, especially since Darren hadn't shown them in the most sympathetic light.

We took a quick break for lunch when the 'meals on wheels' was delivered to us. When rec time came, the other three went out to get some fresh air, but Darren and I stayed in the cellblock. We were in our underwear and working out, when the lieutenant from the front desk showed up.

"Which one of you is Cox?" he asked, and I indicated that I was.

"I was told you'd be here, because you quit going out to rec," he began, "but I received a complaint about you this morning. I know you're in here for a sex crime, but I was told you were making jokes about a woman getting raped on a television show last night and it offended some of your cellmates."

"Then you were given bad information, because that never happened," I replied.

"You didn't make a comment while watching the show last night?" he followed, while looking doubtful.

"Oh, I made a comment, but it wasn't what you were told," I explained. "When it was disclosed who had committed the crime, all I said was that I hadn't seen that coming, because the person responsible was not who I thought it might be."

"That's right, because we were sitting together," Darren added, sticking up for me.

"So you must be Lee," the Lieutenant observed. "I was told you two were tight and you would stick up for each other."

"Then ask Fred," I suggested. "I don't know his last name, but he was sitting with us too and can verify everything we've told you."

The lieutenant nodded and walked away. We weren't sure what he was going to do next, but Darren looked shaken by that confrontation.

"What the hell was that about?" he wanted to know.

"I saw Roy talking to one of the COs this morning," I answered, "so I would surmise that he complained and told him that I had made derogatory comments about last night's program."

"But you never said anything like that!" Darren objected.

"I know, but that's obviously what he heard, how he saw it or he just decided to use the incident to get me in trouble," I offered. "Regardless of the reason, I hope we cleared it up and nothing else comes of it."

Darren and I then finished doing our exercises, cleaned up and then went back to my cell to draw and write. When the other three returned from rec, Roy walked past my cell and flashed me a sort of a snarl, but he also seemed to have a slight grin on his face, so that might have meant that he thought he'd succeeded in getting me in trouble. Whatever it was about, he and Irvin went to their end and a few minutes later, Fred came in to speak with us.

"When I was outside, one of the COs called me over to speak to the Lieutenant," he began, "and he asked me questions about last night. He wanted to know if you'd made a joke about a woman getting raped on television."

"And what did you tell him?" I followed.

"I just told him you didn't do that, and when he pressed to find out what you'd said, I told him you were just surprised about who had actually done it. That's all," he replied.

"Good, that's exactly what we told him too," I confirmed. "I hope that hearing you confirm this takes care of the situation and he realizes it was all made up,"

"Why? What was that all about?" Fred followed. "Why did he want to know what you said while we were watching TV?"

"Because Roy told them a lie about what happened," Darren spat out. "He's trying to get Bob in trouble."

"Fucking douche bag," Fred hissed, while looking down toward the other end of the cellblock. "I hope he gets his then."

The subject was dropped after that, but Fred stayed in with Darren and me for a while longer. During that time, he explained about some things that either Roy or Irvin had done to others who had been locked up with them, so it was clear that I wasn't alone in receiving this kind of treatment from them. It was also fairly apparent, however, that Fred didn't seem to like or trust them either, which worked out in my favor.

About an hour later, we got a chance to take another shower, which Darren and I desperately needed, because we'd been working out every day. Since our jumpsuits only got exchanged once a week, we'd been taking them off when we exercised and hoped that would help to make it a bit more bearable in between showers. We were doing everything we could think of so we wouldn't have to smell each other when we spent time together in my cell.

Once we were ready, we were led down to the shower area and each of us basically went to the same showerheads that we had used before. Although this activity took place without incident, I noticed that we got more than a few glares from Roy and Irvin. I wasn't sure if this was because they thought we were doing something wrong or just hoped to catch us in the act, but that wasn't going to happen. Then again, it was possible that they were just pissed off because I hadn't got in trouble after Roy had reported me. Whatever the reason, their constant surveillance made the three of us very uncomfortable.

Shortly after we finished up and were led back to our cells, the laundry trustee came by and picked up our dirty clothes. First, he handed each of us a clean jumpsuit and then we went into our cells to change. Once we had done that, we stripped our beds and gave him our bedding, along with our jumpsuits and towels, but we also put our underwear and other things we wanted washed into the pillowcase. I had used the marker I'd bought to mark mine and had loaned it to Darren so he could do the same with his, so we'd get everything back that we sent down. Fred said our clothes would be brought back later, probably after dinner, but definitely before lights out, so we'd have time to make our beds again before it was time to sleep.

Dinner was another unappetizing affair, followed by a couple of games of Uno with Darren and Fred, before coffee was served. This time it actually was coffee, not tea, and I invited the boys in for a couple of cookies to go along with this nightly treat. They both accepted, so we sat in my cell, chatted and enjoyed this simple pleasure.

We were still together when the trusty came back with our clean laundry and called us out. Once he did that, Fred and Darren went back to their cells to make up their bunks, while I did the same. Fred didn't come back after that, but Darren did and he sat on my bunk to draw, while I wrote. This made me realize that we were settling into one hell of a rut, but the problem was, I didn't see how we were going to break it until we got released. If that isn't a sad and pathetic thought, then I don't know what is.

Darren stayed in with me until lights out was announced and then he went back to his cell. The catcalls started shortly thereafter and were slightly more intense than the previous evening. I believed Roy and Irvin had probably got the others whipped into a feeding frenzy by telling them what he thought I had done the previous evening, but I was becoming oblivious to this harassment. I just hoped that Darren was doing the same.

The next few days seemed to go according to schedule, at least as far as the jail staff was concerned, and we followed our daily routine as usual. If I hadn't been able to write and take comfort in the distraction it afforded me, as well as having the friendship that Darren and Fred offered me, I would most likely have found myself either in the throes of a severe depression or pathetically bored to tears. If it weren't for these diversions, there wouldn't be much that I could do to occupy myself, since I was avoiding rec.

None of this seemed to be a problem for those with less intellectual capacity, because they seemed to be more easily soothed and entertained. Roy and Irvin, for example, seemed satisfied being able to watch television shows all day long and only taking a break to go out for the hour of rec time they were allowed to participate in. For me, that was just mind numbing monotony.

The next time we were given a chance to buy from the inmate store, I made a few additional purchases for Darren. This time, I bought him a sketchpad and a set of colored pencils, which came with one of those small, plastic hand-held sharpeners. Even though I'd noticed those items on the list earlier, I kind of ignored them, because they didn't interest me personally, but now I realized they had a purpose. It also indicated that there had been other artists in here before Darren, so I figured this would keep him occupied, allow him a chance to hone his skills and relieve some of his boredom. It would also give me time to write, without feeling guilty about ignoring him, thus killing two birds with one stone.

When my selections were brought back to me later, I took those two items out of the bag and gave them to Darren. He appeared surprised that I had done this again, but then he thanked me over and over for this unexpected treasure. It was almost as if I had just handed him a million dollars, because he was beside himself with excitement and joy.

Darren spent the rest of the night in my cell creating another drawing, although this time he was able to do it in color and without having any lines to contend with. Since he was able to do more than merely use shades of black and gray, he had chosen to draw a landscape and happily showed the blue of the sky, the greens and browns of the grasses, as well as using numerous other colors to show everything in between.

Darren returned to his cell before lights out and then we listened to a few of the others shout obscene and derogatory comments at us for the next half-hour. I think fewer inmates were involved in doing this now and the abuse seemed to be ending after a much shorter period of time, since we weren't responding to them. I hoped this meant it would end altogether before too much longer, but we'd just have to wait and see if this happened.

Over the next few days, now that I had given Darren both the sketchpad and colored pencils, he would walk down to my cell and sit on my bunk to draw, while I sat at my desk and focused on my story. Jack had brought me a bag with a bunch of things in it, from copies of the chapters of the stories I'd been working on, to the notes and background information I needed. This made it possible for me to get a lot more done and I was thrilled with how much I was able to accomplish.

I think Darren felt safer spending his time with me, even though I wasn't paying much attention to him, because he realized the others were less likely to try anything while we were together. We made sure not to leave Fred completely out of our activities as well, and we'd eat our meals together, plus we'd take breaks from time to time so we could go out and play pitch, hearts or Uno with him. We also invited him to join us for a couple of cookies from time to time, especially when the coffee or tea was delivered in the evening. He would spend his remaining time playing solitaire, reading or watching TV, but he always did that at a safe distance from the dumbbell duo, since he didn't seem to feel comfortable getting too close to them either.

When Darren finished one of his sketches, he would always ask me to check it out and I was usually quite impressed with what he had done. One of the landscapes that he had completed was a wonderful scene of bucolic splendor, and after I commented about it, he explained that it was a picture of his grandfather's farm. He told me it had been a place he loved to visit when he was a kid, so I'm sure this drawing was basically an idealistic portrayal of what he remembered from his youth, rather than a realistic representation. For me, it was a touching and sensitive depiction of a very special place in a young man's life and I praised his effort, while advising him to keep it safely tucked away. I didn't want him to accidentally leave it in the common area where it might get destroyed, because I thought he might want to have it framed when he got out.

Another sketch he did was of the view from his cell. This one was done completely in black and white, which gave a stark and foreboding insight about what it was like to be caged up like an animal. The picture even included some of the rec yard, as seen through the double doors leading out to it, but he didn't include any of the inmates in his drawing. I wasn't sure if this was due to the fact that he couldn't draw lifelike figures, he just couldn't think of anyone he wanted to include in his artwork or whether he was trying to protect us from being recognized after we got out. It was, however, also quite well done, especially if you considered that he'd completed it in such a short span of time.

The final drawing he showed me was a portrait, and he did a very nice job on this as well, so it was obvious that he didn't have any problems with drawing the human form. I think he could have picked a better subject though, because he'd used me as his unwitting model, so he'd probably worked on it when we were in my cell together. He was, however, anxious to learn what I thought of his effort, so I began by telling him that he had made a poor choice of subjects, but he had done a remarkable job with what he had to work with.

Darren scoffed at my criticism about his choice of subjects, but then he offered me the drawing to keep, in appreciation for everything I had done for him. I thanked him and stated that I'd cherish his drawing always and would place it in a suitable frame when I got home. He smiled, because I think this made him feel as if he had just paid me back, at least in part, for my generosity to him. He was happy, I was impressed and we were now more or less on an even basis again, as far as the gift giving was concerned.

We happened to be sitting in my cell after lunch and prior to rec, when one of the COs came by.

"Lee, your lawyer is here to see you," he announced, so Darren got up and walked to the cellblock door. He was let out and led away by the CO, and a few minutes later, another CO came by to take the others out to rec. I was worried that one of them might hang back, since this was the first time they would be able to catch me alone, but that didn't happen, so I waited for Darren to return. He was brought back about a half hour later, with a slight smile on his lips.

"You did that, didn't you?" he asked, as soon as he'd entered the cellblock.

"Did what?" I asked, confused.

"You sent someone to help my lawyer, didn't you?" he asked. "The Public Defender said another lawyer showed up at his office and told him he was directed to help him work out a deal for me with the District Attorney. My lawyer thought someone in his office had sent this other guy to help out, since he hadn't done anything like this before, but when they met with the D.A., he seemed to know this other lawyer and mentioned your name."

"Yes, I did ask my lawyer to help the rookie working on your case, because I didn't want to see you get screwed because he didn't know what he was doing," I confirmed. "Did it help?"

"Yes, it did!" Darren stated, while hopping around. "My lawyer said the D.A. was pushing for a felony charge of aggravated assault, with a sentence recommendation of three to five years, but he said your attorney convinced him to drop it down to disorderly conduct, so I'd only get a year in jail and they'd credit me for the time I've already been in here."

"That's great!" I agreed. "I'm glad he could do that for you."

"He really did, because my lawyer said he would never have thought about using the arguments he did," Darren confirmed. "He told me that your lawyer argued that if it went to court, he'd argue diminished capacity, because I had been drinking and was intoxicated, and self defense, because he said that in my impaired state I felt threatened by the much larger bouncer and was only trying to protect myself. My lawyer said the D.A. looked worried that approach might work, so he agreed to the deal. Thanks, man, because I could have been doing some serious prison time without your help."

"Hey, I'm just glad that it worked out," I answered, simply.

"My lawyer told me that your lawyer also had my stuff taken out of the apartment I was sharing with the other guys, since I couldn't pay my share of the rent and they were threatening to just dump all my things out on the street," Darren offered. "He said he had my things put in storage, so I hope I don't have to pay a lot to get everything back when I get out."

"You won't have to pay anything," I stated. "I had him take it all to my house and store it there, until we had completed our sentences."

"Wow! You did that too?" Darren exclaimed, totally surprised. "Thanks, man. I really owe you."

Darren was on a total high for the rest of the day and seemed to float around the cellblock. Even Fred noticed the change in his demeanor and asked about it, so Darren told him what he'd learned while they were all out to rec.

"Damn, I wish you'd been around when I was first charged, because you probably would have found a way to get me off completely," he quipped.

The following days seemed to pass quite quickly, since we were both keeping fairly busy now. I was working very hard on my stories and Darren was drawing any and every thing he could think of. The next time we were allowed to buy from the inmate store again, I purchased two more sketchpads for him and I can't begin to tell you how thrilled he was. It was almost as wonderful watching the glow on his face when I handed the sketchpads to him, as when I had watched Jared's face light up when I'd given him the puppy for his birthday.

As we continued to grow even closer, Darren began to fill me in about some of the other aspects of his life, such as telling me about his family and what it was like for him where he grew up. He was not from this area and only moved here because he planned to attend a nearby college, but he had only gone to classes for a short period of time before he learned his financial aid package had fallen through, so he was forced to drop out. He decided to stick around the area, get a job and hang out with his buddies, rather than return home, but unfortunately that was what got him into trouble.

He was with those same friends the night he was drinking and ended up smashing the bouncer with a beer bottle, and that incident only served to prove that those guys were only fair-weather friends. They all seemed to abandon him after he got arrested and Darren hadn't seen or heard from any of them since his troubles started. He'd even sent them letters asking for their help, but they never even gave him the decency of a response. He had also sent and received letters with his parents, so it wasn't an issue of unreliable jailhouse mail system, so it appeared to be that they were intentionally ignoring him.

Since the issue of his parents had come up when we were talking about the mail, he decided to tell me about them and I soon learned that they've had more than their share of financial difficulties. Due to this fact, they couldn't afford to come see Darren, which left him virtually alone. He also told me about some of the old girlfriends he'd had, although currently there was no one he was particularly close to, but I could tell from the things he was saying that he was as straight as an arrow. In some ways, he was a bit immature, or possibly just naïve about more worldly matters, but he seemed to be a nice enough kid. The only reason he was in here in the first place was that he couldn't seem to handle his booze. He had let it impair his judgment, which was what got him into the mess he was paying for now.

I wasn't sure if Darren was looking at me as a friend, big brother or a father figure at this point, or possibly none of those things. Maybe he had only latched on to me because I was available and appeared to be the most harmless one he had run into at that time. I think even if that was the case in the very beginning, something more had developed, as we spent more and more time together.

Darren didn't seem to let anyone else change his opinion of me either and was still very nicely handling the insulting barbs they shot at him. It was possible he was doing this because he'd concluded that most of the inmates who were harassing us were so dumb that their opinion didn't matter or he thought they were all bark and no bite. I tried to warn him not to feel too secure about this latter viewpoint, because it would only take one of those macho scumbags to prove him wrong and do some serious damage before he realized what was happening. He agreed that he would continue to remain alert and not let down his guard, so I didn't press my warning further.

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.

Chapter 25
The Holidays

Sid and I were still going at it when the first CO arrived, but then three others showed up a few seconds later. After they got the cellblock unlocked, Roy and Irvin backed away, since they didn't want it to appear as if they had been involved, as the COs came rushing at Sid and me. After telling Darren to back away, they grabbed Sid and I from behind and pinned us to the floor, thus making it impossible for us to continue. Once we had both been restrained, I immediately relaxed and stopped fighting and flailing about, but Sid, on the other hand, continued to struggle and tried his hardest to get at me again.

A minute or so later, Sid and I were in handcuffs and being dragged out of the cellblock. We were taken to two separate, windowless rooms, which were generally used for inmates to meet with their lawyers, and were then handcuffed to a bar built into the wall. The bar had been installed so violent prisoners could be handcuffed to it while they were in there, because some of them had even threatened their attorney for not getting them out of the legal mess they were in. Once we had been restrained in this fashion, we were left waiting there alone, until someone came along to interrogate us. When one of the COs finally entered the room where I was a few minutes later, he wanted my view of what had happened.

"What the hell was going on in there?" he began.

"I'm not really sure," I replied. "I was sitting at one of the tables playing cards with Darren, when Sid came rushing at me and started throwing punches. I don't know why, because I never did anything to provoke him."

He asked a bunch of other questions and then left me alone for a few minutes, so I thought possibly he was going over to talk to Sid. What I didn't know at the time was that there was another CO talking to Sid and the CO I'd been talking to went to speak with Darren and the other pair from our cellblock. Before long, he returned and began to fill me in about a few other facts.

"I spoke with the inmate you were playing cards with, as well as the other two, and they all seemed to support your story," he told me. "The other two inmates basically stated that they, and the inmate who attack you, had been watching the news when a story came on about a guy raping and murdering a child. They said that seemed to set the other guy off and he felt inclined to take it out on you. They told me that since you were in for a similar crime, he felt you had it coming and the other two didn't seem to feel that they should try to stop him."

"So they intend to make me pay for what other people do too," I stated, shaking my head. "Look, I'll admit that I gave a young man a blowjob, but I never hurt, coerced or forced anyone to do anything. I've even done my best to stay clear of those three, so something like this wouldn't happen, because they've made it clear how they feel about me. No matter how hard I've tried to avoid a problem, it still happened."

There was a brief pause, before the CO spoke.

"Look, how would you feel if we moved you, along with the guy you get along with, I think his name is Lee," the CO offered. "We have some cells up on the third floor for people who need to be placed in protective custody and I think you might fit the bill, especially now that this has happened. The other cellblocks in your wing seemed to be cheering your attacker on, so I'm afraid word is going to get around to others, so moving you where you'll be away from everyone else might be best."

"Yeah, I'll bet they were cheering, so I'd like to be moved," I agreed, "as long as Darren, or Lee as you called him, gets to come with me. I don't think he'd do well in there with them either, since they seem to think we have some sort of an illicit relationship, so I believe he would prefer such a move as well."

The CO left again and was gone for several more minutes and then he finally came back to get me.

"I'm going to take you back to your cellblock and give you time to pack up your things," he began. "We're going to keep the inmate who attacked you down here for now, until we get you relocated. I'll stay with you until you finish and then I'll take you and Lee to your new home."

I nodded and then followed him back to the cellblock. Darren rushed up to greet me when I walked in and asked if I was all right. He then helped me pack up my belongings, because he had already gathered his things together in preparation for the move. Unbeknownst to me, the CO had come up to ask him if he was agreeable to moving to another area with me, so after he consented and the CO left to get me again, Darren quickly packed up his stuff and got everything ready so we could be moved together.

I felt loaded down when we went to leave there, because I had three bags with my clothes, writing materials and personal belongings in them, but I also had to carry my pillow and bedding. Once we were ready, we were taken to the third floor, led to the rear wing and taken to one of the split cellblocks.

"Since we aren't crowded, we're going to put you in a cellblock with three cells, so you won't be so cramped," he informed us. "If the situation changes, then we'll either put someone else in with you that we think you'll get along with or we'll move you to a cellblock with only two cells. Just keep your noses clean and you shouldn't have any further problems."

I thanked the CO for his help, but Darren wasn't finished with him yet.

"What about Sid?" he wondered. "What are you going to do with him? Is he just going to get to go back to the cellblock with the other two now?"

"No, besides losing any credit he had earned toward good-time, we're going to be moving him to one of the isolation cells, where he'll have no contact with any other inmates for a while," the CO replied. "Maybe that will teach him, and those who might be motivated by his actions, that such outbursts and attacks will not be tolerated and will be punished severely."

Darren felt that sounded like a fair punishment, so he also thanked the CO. He not only thanked him for making sure Sid was punished, but also for putting us together, since he told the CO that he felt I was the only one in here he could trust. The CO told us we were welcome, especially since we hadn't started or caused any problems.

That night, Darren and I settled into our new cells. He took the one next to the solid wall that divided the cellblock, since that was the end where the television was located, so I took the cell next to his. After we made our bunks and put our other things away, we took some time to look around our new and smaller cellblock. We decided not to utilize the extra cell, even to store anything, because they might end up putting someone else in with us later. We really didn't need the extra room though, since we had the common area and two tables to take advantage of now. Plus we also had our own TV to watch, which should help to pass the time.

We hadn't watched the TV very much before this, because Roy and Irvin were always parked in front of it, but now we would be able sit at the table closest to it and watch whatever was on. Since that table was larger than the one in the cell, it would give me more room to spread my things out to write at the same time, but still leave enough room for Darren to draw, while we also kept track of what was playing on the tube.

There was also plenty of room so we could continue working out on our own, if we still needed too, because I wasn't sure what our rec options would be from this point on. I felt we'd still be taken out with another group, although we had no way of knowing what they'd be like, but we could consider that option later, after we got to see who was in the group. For now, Darren and I agreed that this was going to work out far better for us than our previous situation.

When we went to sleep that night, I think we both felt a lot better. Not only did we get rid of the other three, but Darren and I also made out much better in this deal. I guess it was worth the few bumps and bruises Sid had inflicted on me, as well as the scraped knuckles I ended up with from punching him back. When we were locked in later at lights out, I felt pretty good about everything and don't think I've slept as soundly since I'd been in here, because we'd left the nightly catcalls behind as well.

When we woke up Sunday morning, which was the final day of the long Thanksgiving weekend, Darren and I discovered that everything was quite different now. We no longer had to wait when the food trays were delivered, so we didn't step on anyone's toes, and we could stay out in the common area without getting dirty looks or encountering other problems. We now had more than enough room to do whatever we wanted and there was even more for us to do, since the two squatters no longer blocked us from sitting close to the television.

Not only that, but it seemed that the trusty assigned to our cellblock had taken an immediate liking to us as well, because he began slipping us a little more on our food trays and even had us bring our personal cups down when he brought the evening coffee or tea around, so he could give us extra. If he had anything left over after he finished taking care of the others in our wing, since we were in the last wing he took care of, he would come back and add even more to our cups, rather than take it for himself, give it to someone else or dump it down the drain. We thanked him for doing this and began to get to know him even better in the process.

It was almost a relief when the Thanksgiving weekend came to an end, because we could now at least temporarily pretend it wasn't still the holiday season. However, this wasn't exactly easy to do, since commercials for various Christmas specials filled in the gaps between the shows the desk sergeant allowed us to watch. There were also commercials touting the latest and most sought after holiday gifts, which only helped to remind us of what we were missing out on.

This point was driven home even further when our friendly trusty told us the jail was going to be throwing a little get together for those of us that were still incarcerated on Christmas Eve. Shortly after he filled us in about this, one of the COs came around and gave each of us a sheet of paper that listed some options of things we could choose to get as the token Christmas gift we would receive at the jailhouse Christmas party. They were all very simple items, and not particularly desirable, but I guess it's the thought that counts.

It seems that every year one of the local civic organizations purchased small gifts for the inmates and passed them out at the party on Christmas Eve, in an attempt to bring a little holiday cheer to the less fortunate. In order to make sure that we got something that we wouldn't merely throw in the trash, they provided this limited list of items for us to choose from. You were told you could choose up to three items and number them 1, 2 or 3, to show your order of preference. How many of these items you might receive depended on how much money they had to spend, but you would get at least one gift. The list of choices included such basic items as socks, underwear, long underwear and deodorant, but it also gave a few other items we could choose from, such as paperback books, writing materials, art supplies and other items that had been approved by the jail administrators.

At first I wasn't going to ask for anything, because I felt there was nothing I either wanted or needed, but then Darren talked me into relenting, so I marked some choices on my slip. After those lists were collected, I actually looked forward to receiving one of those small gifts and knew that even though it wasn't much, it would still help to brighten my holiday.

The other thing that worked out in our favor because of the move was that we got to take rec with a smaller group, which so far had no idea about what I'd been convicted of. One of the COs, who seemed to take a special interest in us after we'd been relocated, explained that we'd be taking rec with any others who were also in the smaller cellblocks, excluding any minors, and we'd be going out with a group of non-violent state prisoners from one of the other wings. He explained the other inmates in the small cellblocks were just as concerned about their safety as we were, so things had been set up to make this as enjoyable and worry free for us as possible. After hearing this, Darren and I decided to give it a try.

The first time we went out with this group, the other inmates merely asked our names, but never brought up the question about what we were in for. I guess that since they didn't want to answer a similar question, they felt it best to leave well enough alone. Darren and I were fine with this and now looked forward to getting outside and enjoying some fresh air on a daily basis.

We grabbed a basketball and shot hoops for a while, but no one else joined us and no one suggested having a game. When we grew tired of doing that, we did some pull-ups on the bars that were attached to the side of the building and then we jogged around the rec yard until it was time to go back inside. Yes, this meant we sweated in our jail jumpsuits again and they were still only changed once a week, but since we were the only ones in our cellblock and we weren't cramped in a tiny cell, we felt we could deal with it for now. We did try to sponge down afterward, which helped some, although it did little to help what had been absorbed into the fabric of the jumpsuit, but we'd learn to cope.

We were also told that this would be the group we'd be having the Christmas party with, since that was going to be held in shifts, just like the rec hour and with the same groups. This made Darren and I feel a little better about attending that as well, so now we were looking forward to going and enjoying a little camaraderie, as well as devouring a few seasonal treats and receiving our gifts. I was also told this would be held in the rec room, which I hadn't seen yet and was curious as to what it looked like, so this was another definite plus.

Our friendly trusty had also told us that the rec room would be decorated for the occasion, complete with a Christmas tree, and there would be tables set up with snacks, sweets and beverages, which would include eggnog. The Sheriff's department was able to do this, because they not only used some of the profits from the inmate store, but they also received special donations from local businesses for this event. Since this was going to be held with those we were currently going to rec with and we'd been enjoying our time with them, Darren and I felt this might be something fun to attend. We had already figured that everyone else would be in an extremely upbeat mood that day, so they probably wouldn't waste time thinking about doing anything foolish, so I felt we still might have been tempted to try this, even if we had to attend the party with another group.

I heard the guards on duty that day would be able to partake of the snacks and drinks with us, since everything would either be donated or paid for without the assistance of taxpayer funds. Since they would be getting something extra as well, we figured this would put the COs in a more upbeat mood too, yet they'd still be there to provide a deterrent against any violent acts. Darren and I weren't nearly as worried about such things now, but it was still a plus to know that our backs were covered.

Although Darren and I suddenly had more to do and very few other worries, the days seemed to go by a little faster and we began to focus on this upcoming reprieve from our ho-hum existence. Even though it might have seemed to be just a minor thing to most people, we suddenly couldn't wait for the date of the party to arrive. I tried to keep busy writing until then, as well as taking some time out to do some other things with Darren, so he didn't think I was ignoring him, but I was also doing my best to keep from dwelling on what I was missing out on. I wasn't totally successful in doing this though, because I would still occasionally wonder how Jared, Josh and their mother were doing, but this usually only happened when I was lying on my bunk, waiting to fall asleep at night.

Even though I did my best to keep from thinking about them, I just couldn't help but feel badly that I wasn't going to be able to enjoy Christmas with their family. I had already missed taking the boys out trick-or-treating at Halloween and seeing them dressed up, although I wasn't sure if Jared still did this, but I had also missed spending Thanksgiving with them and enjoying that special meal together too. If that wasn't bad enough, now I was going to miss out on spending Christmas with them as well and this was becoming more than I could bear. I knew these feelings would eventually swamp the lifeboat in my soul, but I would try to delay that moment from happening for as long as I possibly could.

I could tell Darren was fighting with similar demons, since this was going to be the first Christmas that he'd miss being with his parents. I did everything I could think of to keep him from dwelling on this fact and wallowing in the self-pity that thinking about his situation would create. Besides, doing this for him would also help to keep my mind off of things as well. In order to do this, I took more time away from my writing, so I could play more games or watch television with him, since it was just the two of us. Sometimes I wished Fred were still around to help me with this, so I could work, but then I realized how unfair that would have been to Fred by wishing he was locked up again just to help me fill the gap. I had no relief pitcher warming up in the bullpen, so I would have to throw the complete game on my own.

That was another thing that amazed me, in that no one had been assigned to the extra cell in our cellblock yet. I know this is a good-sized jail and holds quite a few prisoners – especially when you consider the size of the local community, so I doubted that the jail was ever full, but I thought the staff would at least keep the cellblocks that were occupied as full as possible, in order to avoid opening another wing for just one or two inmates.

In a way, it was both good and bad news for us that we were in here alone. It was good news in as far as there wasn't anyone in here we didn't trust and would make things tense, but it was bad in that we could have used another person to help relieve the boredom and keep Darren entertained, so I could possibly get a bit more work completed. Oh well, maybe it was for the best if things stayed as they were.

When Christmas Eve Day finally arrived, you could feel the excitement level in the cellblocks rise just a bit. Even though Darren and I were alone, we could hear those in the other cellblocks in our wing and could tell they were looking forward to this as well. Hell, someone was even singing Christmas carols, which I thought for kind of unusual. If he'd been in our old cellblock, I'm sure Roy and Irvin would have been happy to make fun of him or try to get him to shut up, because they would have considered it a silly thing for a grown man to do. Not only that, but they would have been thrilled to point out that it was extremely childish to get so excited about a simple Christmas party.

What some of the inmates might not understand, or possibly were just unwilling to admit, was that when you had so little to look forward to, even something as innocuous as a simple party could become monumental. Not only because we'd be getting a few special treats, along with a small gift or two, but it would also help us to escape the reality of this place, if only for just a short time. That, in itself, was a victory worth celebrating.

Throughout the day, we were allowed to watch a number of Christmas movies, which included It's a Wonderful Life, Miracle on 34th Street and Scrooge, the musical version of A Christmas Carol. I think they were doing this to put us in the mood for the Christmas party, which was being held throughout the day, plus it would give us a chance to watch some movies that we might have also watched if we were home during this time.

Around our usual coffee time, our group was taken to the rec room to participate in this seasonal diversion. I was surprised at how festive the place looked and that everyone was smiling and even wishing the COs and each other Merry Christmas. No one seemed to be making light of this and we were directed toward the various tables, which included the two ping-pong tables, and each them had been covered with a paper holiday tablecloth and loaded down with various treats.

We were encouraged to help ourselves to the ample selection of goodies, which looked very appealing. Not only was there a vast quantity and variety of Christmas cookies and different types of candies, but there were also some cocktail wieners with a mustard dip, cocktail wieners wrapped in a pastry, Swedish meatballs in noodles, a cheese dip with bread cubes to dip in it, pretzels, chips and dip, Doritos and salsa and a vegetable tray with a dip of its own.

On the drink table was an assortment of sodas, both regular and diet, as well as cartons of eggnog. I was truly grateful for the eggnog, since I never felt as if it was truly Christmas unless I'd had the chance to down at least one glass of eggnog. Tonight, however, I was a pig and knocked down three. Hey, you have to take advantage of these limited opportunities, and besides, most of the other inmates had already been here, since we were the last group to attend, and the inmates here with me didn't seem as thrilled as I did partaking of this particular beverage. All in all, it was a very nice Christmas surprise, especially for Darren and me, because it helped to soften the memories of the rough start we'd endured in this place.

While we were eating and drinking, the guards were pointing each of us out to the members of the service organization, who then approached to present us with the gift they had purchased on our behalf. I had just finished pouring my third glass of eggnog when I was handed a package and wished a Merry Christmas. I thanked the person giving it to me and wished him a Merry Christmas as well, and then I went back to my eggnog. While the other inmates were ripping open their presents, I merely tucked mine under my arm and continued to sample some of the remaining fare.

After we'd been here for about forty minutes, the guards announced they'd take anyone back who wanted to return to their cellblocks early, since some of the others had already grown tired of this little treat. Only about a dozen of us were left, so Darren and I felt it would be a good time to check this place out in more depth. I'd been looking forward to having a chance to see this room for myself and was quite impressed by what I saw. Even though it wasn't as it would normally appear, Darren and I were still able to get an idea of what it had to offer and what it might be like when it was used for rec. Now, however, there were several tables spread across the area that would normally encompass the weights, library corner and the viewing area for large-screen television.

Darren asked me to go over to the bookcase with him, while he checked out what they had there. After looking the selection over, he picked out a couple of paperbacks and asked one of the COs if he'd be able to take them back to his cell. When he was told that would be fine, he lit up as if he'd just been given another present and I was glad to see him so happy about being granted such a simple pleasure.

A little while later, we were taken back to our cells. As we were leaving, I saw the trusties coming in so they could begin to clean the place up, since we had been the last group to attend. It also made me feel better about being such a pig with the eggnog, since I hadn't deprived anyone else of that small pleasure. When we got back to our cells, Darren showed me what he'd selected, which was two more sketchpads. He was thrilled that he had them and told me that it would prevent me from having to supply them for him, at least for a while. Now, he asked me what I had received.

"I got something that Santa wanted me to pass along to you," I stated, as I placed the package in his hands.

"No way. That is for you. You have to have a present too," Darren protested.

"Darren, there is nothing I needed or wanted in here," I replied. "Besides, I'd have no use for this anyway, so go ahead and just open it. I picked it out for you in the first place."

He started to protest again, but I held up my hand and stopped him, so he relented and ripped the wrapping paper off of the package. When he saw what it was, he just looked up at me and grinned.

"Damn, I never thought of asking for something like this," he admitted.

"Well, do you like it and do you think you can use it?" I followed, and his grin widened.

"Hell, yes!" he agreed. "Now instead of drawing and trying to color it in with those colored pencils, I can do a sketch and then use the brushes to fill it in with these watercolors. Thanks, Bob. It was really nice of you to ask for something for me, instead of getting something for yourself, but I don't know why you keep doing all these things for me."

"I do it because you are my friend and you can use it more than I can. I'm just glad I'm able to help out."

This time he didn't hesitate and gave me a hug. Maybe he did this because he knew no one else was around to see it happen, but I felt it was a better gift than anything anyone else could have given me at the moment. When he broke the embrace, he thanked me once more and then I sent him to his cell, to try out his new gifts. I used the time to watch TV alone for a while, since A Christmas Carol was on, the one with George C. Scott as Scrooge.

Just as the movie was ending, it was announced that lights out would be in five minutes, so I rushed into my cell to brush my teeth. The jail staff had allowed us to stay up a little later tonight, possibly as another little holiday gift to us, but we appreciated it, nonetheless. Once I finished brushing my teeth, I stripped down to my underwear and slid in between the sheets. When they finally announced lights out, it was followed by, "And a Merry Christmas to all," which showed that even the guards had gotten into the spirit.

As I lie on my bunk that evening, I thought about how happy Darren had seemed with his gifts, but then my attention shifted to another pair of young men. I now began to wonder what Jared and Josh might be up to, how their Christmas Eve had been and what they might have done. Then I wondered what Christmas Day was going to be like for them. What presents would they get, what would they have for dinner and were they happy? I began to feel badly that I wouldn't be there to give them any gifts, see them smile or enjoy that special time with them. It was a very depressing way to end what had been a fairly nice day.

A few seconds later, I could feel the moisture building in my eyes, even though I had tried to fight against it, and soon the tears began streaming down my cheeks. Silently, I wished my boys a 'Merry Christmas', if only in spirit, and quietly began to sing an old World War II Christmas song to myself, "I'll be home for Christmas." You might know how it goes.

"I'll be home for Christmas, You can count on me.
Please have snow and mistletoe, and presents under the tree.
"Christmas Eve will find me, where the love-light gleams.
I'll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams."

Eventually I fell asleep, but not before I had a chance to pine away about not being with my boys tonight and tomorrow, while regretting another lost opportunity. I could only wonder if we'd ever get the chance to experience another Christmas together or if I'd even see them again. I think I actually cried myself to sleep that night, but then I may have just passed out, overcome from the pain I felt in my heart from not being with them. Christmas had always been my favorite time of the year, so it really hurt that I wasn't able to celebrate it properly or spend it with the ones I loved the most in this world.

Christmas morning we were allowed to sleep an hour later than normal and received a special treat when breakfast arrived as well. This morning we were served pancakes, scrambled eggs, two slices of raisin toast, two sausage links, two pieces of bacon, milk and juice. What a nice surprise!

Everyone knew there were going to be special visiting hours scheduled for today as well, so I figured many of the inmates had most likely begun to spruce themselves up for their eventual visit with their loved ones. Seeing Darren and I knew we wouldn't be having any visitors today, we just went back to our cells to relax, after gorging ourselves on that special breakfast.

Once the trusty had picked up our breakfast trays and the CO had made his rounds, Darren came over to my cell to ask a favor.

"Bob, I really need your help," he stated, while giving me a pathetic look.

"Sure. What's up?" I followed.

I didn't have even the slightest clue as to what this might be about.

"Will you promise you won't laugh or think less of me after I tell you?" he followed.

He had a very concerned look on his face now, which gave me an indication that he considered this to be a very serious matter.

"I promise, Darren. So what's the problem?" I asked.

He didn't respond right away and just stared at me, so I felt I had to prod him.

"Come on, you should know you can trust me by now," I added, trying to reassure him.

"I do, but I feel kind of weird asking you this, but I can't take it any longer and need your help."

"Help with what?" I followed, still not getting his drift.

"Look, I'm going nuts being locked up and I'm horny as hell," he announced, while looking me in the eye. "I've been taking care of myself, but my hand just isn't doing it for me any more, so I was wondering if maybe you'd give me a blowjob. You said that's what you were doing with that kid and what got you put in here, so I was hoping maybe you'd be willing to do that for me too."

"Are you sure about this," I instinctively asked.

"Yes, I need something else, something to take care of my problem and make me feel better," he responded. "I know you've told me you only do things with willing partners and I want you to know that I'm really willing and need a blowjob bad."

I wasn't sure how to respond to him at this point. I knew what he wanted and wouldn't mind helping him with his problem, but I wasn't convinced this was a good idea. Not only might he have second thoughts after we did it, but this wasn't exactly the place you'd want to get caught doing something of this nature. I guess he picked up on my indecision.

"Please, Bob? I really need your help with this," he begged. "I trust you, you know that, and you're the only one I'd ever ask or allow to do this for me."

I finally decided how I wanted to approach this.

"Darren, are you sure you'll be able to live with having done this later?" I asked. "I mean, do you think there might come a time when you would begin to hate me, or yourself, for having done something of this nature with another male?"

"No! I've thought this through and I really need it," he insisted. "I won't hate you, because you're my friend and you'd just be helping me out. It's not like we're going to do anything more than this. I only want a blowjob and nothing more."

"And it won't bother you later that I was the one who gave it to you?" I pressed.

"Hell, no!" he replied. "A blowjob is just a blowjob, plain and simple, and nothing more."

He appeared to mean what he was saying and indicated that he didn't consider this as participating in gay sex, but I also got the impression he was really in desperate need of some sexual relief.

"If you are absolutely sure," I told him.

Now, I tried to think of a way we could do this without getting caught.

"Thanks, Bob. You're a real friend. I won't ever forget this," he added, before I could say more.

I merely smiled and gave him a slight nod.

"Let's wait until we see the CO make his next round, so he won't accidentally walk in on us in the middle of things," I suggested.

Darren agreed to this precaution, so we decided to play cards while we waited. When the CO showed up and passed by, I thought Darren was going to give us away by reacting too quickly. When he saw the look on my face, he settled down again and waited for another minute, until we felt the CO had gone. Once that happened, Darren encouraged me to go with him to my cell, which I did.

I sat down on the stool at my desk that was closest to the cell door and then I directed Darren to stand in front of me, with his back facing outward. This way, if a guard should happen to come along, then I wanted him to see Darren's back, so it wouldn't be obvious what we were doing. Unless Darren was moaning or making other noises, I was hoping it would merely look as if we were just passing time in my cell and talking, as they were used to seeing us do by now. As soon as he was in position, Darren unfastened his jumpsuit and took out his dick, as if he was preparing to take a leak in the toilet, and then he held it out for me. He was definitely larger than Jared in this area and had a decently formed, man-sized penis, which was already rock hard in anticipation.

"Yeah, I guess you really do need this," I joked, trying to lighten the moment.

As I sat at my desk, with Darren strategically placed in front of me, all I had to do was to bend slightly forward and take him into my mouth. He moaned as my tongue took a few exploratory swipes of his dickhead and before my lips slid down the length of his shaft, which caused me to pull off quickly. I did this so I could remind him that he'd have to keep the noise down, if he didn't want us to get caught. He looked down at me at this point and nodded his understanding, so since I felt somewhat reassured, I slowly took him back into my mouth. Once again, I began to nod back and forth on his rod, adding suction as I did so.

I could tell that Darren was fighting to contain the animal noises that were fighting to escape his throat and somehow he was able to maintain control and not make a sound. However, he was allowing himself to get involved in the action and began to thrust his hips in rhythm with my bobbing head. I knew this wasn't going to take very long, since he was about as horny as I've ever seen anyone in my entire life, so before long he was spewing his creamy load into my mouth and throat. It was thicker and slightly saltier than Jared's, but it was still enjoyable, so I swallowed some, but kept as much as I could in my mouth. I did this because I didn't want to disgust him by swallowing all of his cum, because that is generally a turnoff for straight guys, except when it's a female doing it.

When his hip thrusts began to slow, and then subside completely, I felt he had received all the stimulation he could handle, so I let his dick fall from my mouth. At that point I got off my stool and walked over to my toilet, so I could spit his remaining bodily fluids into the bowl. I then grabbed my cup, filled it with water, rinsed out my mouth and spit that water into the bowl too, but not before secretly enjoying the taste for a few moments.

When I turned around, Darren was still leaning against the bars, with his dick still hanging out, but now he had this look of pure contentment on his face. I walked past him and out of my cell, so I could sit at one of the tables in the common area, while giving him time to enjoy the afterglow on his own. A few minutes later, he had recovered enough to rejoin me, and as he sat down, he thanked me for my help.

"That was terrific and you're a really great friend," he gushed, in a whispered tone.

"Just consider it a Christmas present," I teased, trying to make light of it.

Darren nodded and seemed really cool about this. He also kept smiling at me, until he finally decided to say something else.

"Did it really taste that bad?" he asked, while eying me.

"What are you talking about?" I followed, slightly confused.

"My spunk," he answered. "Every girl that ever gave me a blowjob did that too."

"No, Darren, it wasn't bad at all," I assured him, "but I thought you'd be grossed out if I swallowed it."

"No, I wouldn't have," he replied. "When I was younger, I even used to lick it off my fingers when I jerked off. I didn't do that with all of it, just what got on my hand, but it never really bothered me. I hope that wasn't being too gay."

I laughed.

"No, even straight guys have been known to do that, if only out of curiosity," I remarked. "Doing it definitely doesn't make you gay."

"So you would have swallowed it, if you hadn't thought it would have grossed me out," he pressed.

"Yes, I probably would have," I confirmed, which brought a smile to his lips.

"Okay, and just so you know, it wouldn't have grossed me out," he admitted. "Damn, man. You're awesome! I knew I was right about you. You're a great guy and I really will try to pay you back for everything, but I just don't know how I can do that."

"You don't have to and I'm not worried about it," I advised him. "I'm just glad that I was able to help. Besides, that was a treat for me as well."

I grinned after I said this, knowing he'd catch my drift.

Darren and I then took advantage of being alone and spent some time watching TV. There was a parade on first, followed by a choir singing Christmas music in a very elegant cathedral. The show was very enjoyable, relaxing and a nice change in our routine, but it also reinforced the fact that it was Christmas Day.

When lunch was delivered, we were pleased to see they had prepared another special meal for us, which was almost as good as our Thanksgiving fare. This time we were given a good-size ham slice, topped with brown sugar and pineapple, candied yams, baked beans and milk. There was also a green salad with oil and vinegar dressing in a paper bowl and a slice of apple pie on a paper plate. Again there was quite a bit to eat and it was pretty filling, but best of all, it was fairly tasty as well.

After we finished eating that special fare, we went back to see what was on TV and discovered that the movie A Christmas Story was playing. We decided to watch it, and when it was over, it was followed by a professional football game. Darren wasn't very interested in the game, so he went back to his cell to draw. About an hour later, he came out to show me his first watercolor masterpiece. It was another picture of me, but this time he had me dressed up in a Santa outfit. He giggled when he saw me stare at it.

"Well, you have been my Santa since I've been here, so I just thought I'd put you in the correct costume," he teased.

"Well, I'm glad you didn't feel that you had to put a huge stomach on me," I observed, before I let out a weak chuckle.

"I thought about it, but then I felt that it might upset you if I did that," he admitted. "Besides, you're in decent shape, so I decided against it."

"I'm not really in that good of shape, since we've been kind of inactive and overeating since Thanksgiving," I informed him, "but I was just joking about the big belly."

"Are you sure?" he followed. "I know how you've talked about losing weight in here, so I thought that being heavy bothered you?"

"So you think I'm heavy?" I asked, partially joking.

At first he wasn't sure if he should answer, but then he saw my grin.

"No, not really, but I thought you did," he clarified.

"No, I had only said that because the meals weren't very good and not really filling, so I thought everyone would be losing weight while they were in here, even the skinniest guys," I clarified.

"Oh, ok," he stuttered. "I really thought you were worried that you were overweight."

"No, Darren, I'm not, so don't worry about it," I urged.

Darren seemed to relax a little, now that he was convinced I wasn't upset.

"And Darren, thanks for this picture," I added. "I'll make sure to frame this one, as well as the other picture you've given me. When I get home, I'm going to start a 'Darren's artwork wall' in my house, where I'll hang all the different drawing you've either given to me or I decide to purchase from you later on."

"You won't have to buy anything from me," he protested.

"I will when you're a famous artist," I added, to let him know I thought he might be able to make a living doing this.

"NO! Even then I'll let you have whatever you want," he insisted.

"Even if I'd rather pay you for it?" I pressed.

"Yes, of course," he confirmed. "I'll owe you at least that much for all you've done to help me get started."

I decided maybe we should end this conversation for now, before he began to feel he owed me even more. We could always continue this again, at a later date, if he ever got to the point where he was actually selling his artwork.

When dinner arrived later, we quickly saw that this wasn't nearly as big of a deal, especially after the amazing breakfast and lunch we'd had. This meal merely consisted of a toasted cheese sandwich, a bowl of vegetable soup, some peach slices in heavy syrup, a piece of cake and a carton of milk. Thankfully, both of us were still somewhat full from the two big meals we'd had earlier, so this little offering should hold us over for the rest of the night.

After we'd finished our meals, we set the trays and utensils back on the shelf to be picked up and then Darren and I stayed out at one of the tables. I watched the end of the football game that was on, while Darren continued to draw. After that, one of the more recent James Bond movies came on, but this appeared to be a DVD that was playing, because there were no commercials. We watched it, since I didn't feel like continuing on my story and I think Darren was more than ready to take a break from drawing, so this turned out to be a decent way to pass the time until lights out.

Coffee was delivered shortly after the movie started, so after I finished my two cups, I took a short break and went to my cell to brush my teeth and Darren did the same. Then, we went back out to watch the rest of the movie. When it ended, we knew it was nearly time for lights out, so Darren started to go to his cell, but not before wishing me a final 'Merry Christmas' and thanking me for helping him out with his problem. He also thanked me for helping to make this a far less boring and depressing time for him to endure.

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