Edward's Dilemma (3 page)

JERRY’S ARRAIGNMENT hearing began after the recess, and was almost identical to that of Edward and Josh.  The main difference, apart from lasting half as long, was that Jerry was charged with First Degree Assault rather than Second Degree.  As a result of this difference, his bail amount was a
whopp’n $250,000.  Jerry was dumbstruck by the amount – and also scared.

Stuart Co. Jail,
Tank2C

9
August, 3:03 AM

EDWARD HAD had a difficult time falling asleep the previous evening on account of the disturbing news he’d received in court...

♦   ♦   ♦

IT MUST have been a Saturday because his parents were busy doing chores.  His dad was staining the deck, while inside the house his mother was making a cake.  Edward watched them, as he sat at the kitchen table eating a banana.

He noticed a fly, at the end of the table, feasting on the remains of a half-eaten English muffin.

As usual, there was some guy outside doing yard work.  Edward could see him through the sliding-glass door.  He didn’t look familiar, but that wasn’t a surprise; Edward’s dad was always inviting “down-and-outers” to their house to do chores.  He’d pay them minimum wage, and also provide them with a hearty lunch.  In exchange, they’d help Edward’s dad with things like mowing the lawn, trimming bushes, and weeding flowerbeds.

Edward took a big bite out of the banana, and discarded the peel.

In disgust, he continued to look out the window.  He was somewhat bothered by the presence of yet another of his dad’s charity cases.  His dad would argue that he was doing the “Christian” thing by helping these people.  The way Edward looked at it, his dad was trying to assuage a guilty conscience.  Besides, in spite of the fact that his dad had met them at church, there were some – like the guy outside – who didn’t seem to be trustworthy.  Edward thought his dad was, in this respect, a little naïve.

When he was done eating, Edward got up from the table and plopped himself down on one end of the couch.  His brother, Thomas, was already sprawled out on the other end
playing Nintendo.  He watched the game for a while, but then grew bored.

Edward got up from the couch, and headed towards the stairs.  As he did, he glanced out the front window.  In the driveway, there were two cars
; his family’s familiar station-wagon, and another car with a broken side-view mirror.  He surmised that the other car belonged to the guy who was doing yard work.  He briefly looked at the car before he proceeded up the stairs.

Upon entering his bedroom, Edward sat down on his disheveled bed.  He wasn’t happy; for some reason his tooth was bothering him. 
I can live with it
, he thought.  Ignoring the pain, he picked up a book and began thumbing through the pages.  Suddenly, a jolt of pain shot through his mouth, and he awoke from his sleep.

♦   ♦   ♦

Stuart Co. Jail, Tank2C

10
August, 10:14 AM

AFTER ENDURING his toothache for what seemed like a long time, Edward approached John Bakerly – who had also moved into Tank 2C.  John explained to him that there were other alternatives.  The best option was to buy the Ibuprofen from the commissary, if Edward could wait that long, and if he had some money on “the books.”  The second option for Edward was that he could trade something that he possessed with another inmate who already had the pills.

This second option, according to John, was inherently risky.  Since Edward possessed nothing other than what he’d been issued by the jail, he’d have to save a leftover food item from a meal in order to make a trade.  This was a problem because food items, such as an orange or a bread roll, were considered contraband.  Making matters worse, any pill not in a store bought package, or in a package supplied by the clinic, was also considered contraband.

In spite of the risk, Edward chose option number two; his tooth was hurting like crazy, and he felt he couldn’t wait until commissary day.  To get the ball roll’n, John said he’d introduce Edward to his “good friend,” Marco.  At the time, Edward had thought the decision was a no-brainer.  Two weeks later, he’d come to regret having ever laid eyes on a man named John Bakerly.

Stuart Co. Jail, Tank 3WestB

10 August, 1:45 PM

JOSH HAD only spent a few hours in the Intake Unit before he was transferred to an area of the jail referred to as the “Old Jail.”  Here, he was housed in a tank which was comprised of two tiers – upper and lower – with eleven cells on each tier.  Each day, on a rotating basis, the inmates from one of the two tiers were released from their cells for a few hours so that they could spend some time together in the common area.  The rest of the time, they were confined in two-man cells which contained nothing more than a single bunk-bed.  It was a Spartan existence, to say the least.  There was no TV or sink in the cells, and just going to the bathroom involved pushing a little button on the wall to alert the CO to open the cell door.

The biggest challenge for Josh was learning to get along with Frank, his cellmate.  Josh had always been a loner of sorts, and he didn’t require – or even want – a lot of company.  He fully understood that being cooped up with another person would tax his social skills, and impinge on his desire to be left alone.  Still, he was a “survivor” – one of those individuals who could quickly a
dapt to changing circumstances.  As such, it wasn’t long before he was entirely comfortable in his new environment.

Stuart Co. Jail,
Tank 3WestC

10 August, 7
:20 PM

ALSO HOUSED in the Old Jail, Jerry got into trouble shortly after his arrival in the tank.  The “incident” occurred while he and several others were playing cards at a table.  They were all having a good time, but they began to get a little carried away in their enthusiasm for the game.  Before long they were yelling loudly, and slapping the table with their palms.  This drew a stern rebuke from the CO to knock it off.

Nearby
, an inmate who wanted to watch the game meandered over to an adjacent table and sat down on top of the table.  His sandaled-feet rested comfortably on the seat below.  He’d only been there for a moment, before the CO approached with an angry look on his face.  Suddenly, a loud voice reverberated throughout the tank.  “Get your a** off of the table!” the CO yelled.  “The table-top is for eating, not for your dirty a** butt!  This place is disgusting enough as it is.”

Everybody in the tank thought this was
absolutely hilarious, and let out a collective laugh.  It was at this instant that Jerry made a grievous mistake; he spoke aloud an insensitive thought which had slithered into the forefront of his mind.  “Maybe if he took his own fat a** to gym every once in a while, he’d get a little more respect.”  As he said this, Jerry made a motion with his thumb to indicate he was talking about the overweight CO.

At the time, Jerry had thought his snarky comment was
funny and mostly harmless.  In fact, as soon as the words were spoken, just about everybody around him had laughed.  His mistake, however, was that it overheard by the CO.  And he was in no laughing mood.

“What did you say?” the CO demanded.

“Nothing – I didn’t say anything,” Jerry replied.

“Listen.  Don’t play games with me.  I heard what you said.  If you don’t show a little more respect to the staff, I’ll put you somewhere more appropriate.”

“What are you, the Gestapo?  I just made a harmless little joke.  Lighten up.”  Again, Jerry spoke before thinking.  Within seconds the dialogue escalated even further, and before he knew what he was doing or saying, Jerry made a comment that was construed as a threat.  The next thing he knew, he was in cuffs and headed for the dreaded “Hole.”

Stuart Co. Jail, the Hole

10 August, 10:03 PM

JERRY HADN’T been in the
Hole very long when he noticed a little red bump on his leg.  At first glance, he thought it might be a pimple or and ingrown hair.  But he’d heard stories from other inmates who’d seen similar anomalies on their skin.  They had attributed it to a spider bite.  Although this seemed like a somewhat reasonable explanation to Jerry, he couldn’t recall ever seeing a spider in the jail.  Everything was cement, and metal; it wasn’t like some woodpile out behind the house. 
Why would spiders want to live here?
” he thought.  Surprisingly, the little bump quickly became a big bump.

E
xtremely painful to touch, the wound became a source of great anxiety and alarm.  If he’d been at home, Jerry reasoned, he could have easily made an appointment with his doctor. 
But what am I supposed to do here?
he thought.
  How do I go about seeing a doctor when I’m stuck in this hell-hole?
  The more he considered his problem, the more his concern grew.  Soon, he was overwhelmed by feelings of hopelessness and fear.

“SLAM!”

Jerry jumped at the sound of a closing door.

Stuart Co. Jail, Tank 3WestB

11 August, 8:15 PM

THE COMMON denominator shared by all inmates, when they’re not “busy,” is that they watch others.  In doing this, they notice little things that might be different, or the same, from the previous day.  For instance, does the CO have a new haircut, or the nurse a new pen?  Does Joe Blow spend a lot of time on the phone, or writing home to his family?  Who gets in the med line, and which pills does he get?  Does the Med-Nurse look into everybody’s mouth, to see if a guy has actually swallowed his pills, or does he only look into the mouths of a select few?  What time does a particular employee arrive in the unit everyday?  Does he carry himself with confidence?  Has he been working out?  These are just a few of the many questions the inmate seeks to answer, and then files away in his brain.  It’s an instinctual behavior we all possess, but in jail it’s honed to a high degree.

LIKE EVERYONE else, Josh was also watchful.  One day he was
sitting at a table with Frank when he noticed three guys who were standing in the corner of the tank.  At first glance, he thought the three had gathered together to shoot the breeze.  But with another glance, he quickly realized that his initial impression had been wrong – things just didn’t look right.  Josh’s mind immediately kicked into high gear. 
Are they trying to create a diversion of some sort?
he wondered.
   Or, perhaps, shield some nefarious act from the eyes of the COs?

Just then, Frank leaned over and poked him on the shoulder.  “Hey, Josh, look over there.”  Frank motioned with his eyes, and a slight jerk of his head.

“I know – I know,” Josh whispered.  “I see it.”

“What do you think they’re doing?”

“I don’t know yet.  Just shut-up, and let’s watch.”

“It doesn’t look good, whatever it is.”

“I KNOW!  Just shut-up.  I wanna see this.”

The two cellmates tried to look nonchalant as they observed the proceedings taking place in the corner.  Before long, it became apparent that one of the three guys, the little one, didn’t want to be there.  In fact, he looked a little distressed and even frightened.  Josh struggled to hear what was being said, but he was only able to hear choppy snippets of the conversation.

“Hey, punk, I – we’d collect – these days,” said the first conspirator.  He was the largest of the three men, and seemed to be the leader.

“Come on guys – repay – when I – chance,” the apparent victim pleaded.

“Larry, I think we – stick him – lesson.”  The second conspirator leaned forward and jabbed the little guy’s chest.  To Josh, this second guy seemed to be the “muscle,” the one who did the dirty work whenever there was dirty work needing to be done.

Josh tried to tune everything else out, and catch a few more bits and pieces of the conversation.  As he leaned forward in his seat, Larry glanced over in his direction and looked straight at him.  Josh immediately feigned ignorance and a lack of interest.  Frank, on the other hand, froze in his seat; he looked like he’d just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.  Larry ignored them both and turned his attention back to the victim.

“I already – once before – pay up – NOW!” he said.

“
Pleassse guys, gimme a – more days,” the little guy again pleaded.

Josh could tell that this was where the rubber would meet the road.  If something didn’t happen now to break up this little
dispute going on in the corner, somebody was going to get hurt.  His mind screamed. “
Where’s the CO!!?  Can’t he see what’s happening in here?
”  He looked around the tank, but everybody else seemed to be unconcerned.  Even Frank looked like he was in a catatonic state.  Josh got up from his chair.

As he approached the trio, they all looked over at him almost simultaneously.  The muscle-man moved to intercept him.
 
“Where do ya think you’re going, you f***’n punk?  Why don’t you mind your own business?”  His demeanor was threatening.  His words were venomous and filled with hate.

Josh extended his hands, palms up, as if to indicate that he was unarmed.  “I’m not
look’n for any trouble.  I just noticed that you guys are having some kinda trouble with this guy.”  Josh pointed towards the victim.  “Maybe I can help you work things out.”

“We don’t need your help.  SCRAM! – or you’re
gonna wind up with a shank up your a**.”

Josh paused momentarily, and time seemed to stand still.  After a long two
seconds, he did the unthinkable.  He said, “Come on,” and motioned for the victim to follow him.  At first nobody moved an inch; they were all too shocked by what was transpiring.  Larry could not believe that someone would challenge his authority.  Muscle-man was cowed by Josh’s courage.  Even the victim was hesitant to make a move.

As the victim’s window of opportunity began to close, however, he made a move towards Josh.  By this time, muscle-man had regained his confidence, and in a blur of motion he lunged forward.  But he hadn’t counted on the fact that Josh had very good reflexes.  In the blink of an eye, and with the speed of a cat, Josh side-stepped the attack and avoided a full-fr
ontal blow to his body.  Muscle-man lost his balance for only an instant, but his recovery wasn’t fast enough.  By now, Josh was on him – and he wasn’t feeling merciful.  His first hit was to muscle-man’s right kidney, which produced a squeal of pain.  His second hit was a devastatingly effective blow to the face.  Muscle-man crumpled to the floor and was out for the count.

By now, the other inmate’s were going crazy.  The volume of noise in the tank had increased dramatically, and the atmosphere was similar to that of a pen full of agitated monkeys.  In the midst of the jeers, hoots, and hollers, Larry had managed to grab hold of Josh.  A struggle ensued, and things were not
look’n good for Josh.  But just when it seemed like he was going to take a beating, a gang of officers arrived on scene.  Josh’s last thought before being handcuffed and hauled out of the tank was,
“Thank God, the cavalry arrived when they did.”

JOSH WAS taken to the clinic where he was examined by a nurse.  He had a few scrapes and bruises, but nothing serious.  The nurse cleaned his wounds a bit, slapped on a bandage or two, and pronounced him fit to return to his unit.

Unfortunately for Josh, the COs had a different idea about where he should be housed.  Since he’d been involved in an altercation, with possible additional charges added to his current charge of 2
nd
Degree assault, he was escorted to another, more secure, wing of the jail.  Upon entering the cellblock, Josh knew right away that he’d just arrived at the “Hole.”

As he was led down a small flight of the stairs and into his cell, Josh glanced over at the window in the adjacent cell door. 
To his surprise, a familiar - yet unshaven – face stared out at him.  It was Jerry!

Stuart Co. Jail, Tank 4NorthB

13 August, 12:22 PM

JERRY WAS soon transferred to a less restrictive part of the jail, where his tormented mind found immediate relief.  Although he was still bothered by the growing sore on his leg, he was no longer having panic attacks.  Part of the reason for his new-found confidence was that his “new” cell was like a hotel room compared to the Hole.  Further helping his mental state, he had followed the COs advice and had written a Kite to the clinic regarding his leg.

Shortly after Jerry’s arrival in the new tank, he was lying on the top-bunk
of the bed when his cellmate, John, engaged him in conversation.

“Well, what are you in here for?” John asked in a nonchalant manner.

“Believe it or not,” Jerry replied, “I’m here because I opened my mouth when I should have kept it shut.  It seems like I’m always doing that.  Anyway, that’s the unofficial reason I’m here.  Here’s the official reason...”

Jerry proceeded to explain, in great detail, what he remembered about the night of August 4
th
.   He described how he had gone to Lucky’s with Josh and Edward to celebrate Edward’s 21
st
birthday, and that they had sat near the back of the bar because the place was crowded with twenty or thirty other patrons sitting at tables, and at the bar.  He speculated, but wasn’t sure, that this was the reason it had taken so long to receive their drinks after they’d placed their orders.  In any event, he couldn’t recall seeing anybody familiar in the bar, but he did say “hi” to a couple of chicks – a brunette and a blond – who were sitting near their table.