My Name Is River Blue (16 page)

"'River, I
know that I couldn't help you before, but I'm begging you to trust me now. You are
facing some serious charges, and I need you to help me help you. Please, tell
me what happened and what's been going on here."

"What
serious charges, Miss Martin? What did Malley tell you?"

According to
Malley, without provocation, I had assaulted an innocent inmate, injuring him
badly enough that they called an ambulance to take him to the hospital. The CO
casually mentioned to Miss Martin that when the COs attempted to bring me under
control, I violently resisted and caused a few bruises to myself. Malley
brushed them over as minor, incidental injuries that were routine and normal in
such situations. He apparently didn't know it was department policy for Miss
Martin to interview me and file a report. She said he grew pale when she
demanded to see me.

After hearing the
lies that the CO told Miss Martin, I fully understood the magnitude of the
trouble I faced. The fear of an extended sentence was enough incentive for me
to risk snitching on Malley, Krieger, and his gang. I gave Miss Martin the
background on how Craig Krieger and his gang terrorized the smaller kids by
stealing their food and canteen items, beating them, and forcing them to do
other things that were often worse than taking a beating. I told her what I had
heard and witnessed about Krieger's relationship with Malley, including how
Krieger bragged that his big brother owned the CO.

When I told Miss
Martin about my fight with Krieger, I gave her every detail along with an
almost word for word recitation of what everyone said. A week later, she told
me that my version matched almost perfectly with other inmate witnesses who
were interviewed by state investigators.

The incident
took place in the cafeteria when all the boys of the pod had just begun eating
their lunch. Initially, Malley and his junior CO were in the control room, but
when the confrontation began, they moved to stand in front of the cafeteria
doors where they took no more action than disinterested bystanders would have.

I usually ate
alone, and I had just sat down with my tray at an empty table when Krieger yelled
at me.

"Hey, new
fish, I'm extra hungry today, so bring me your lunch." Krieger spoke
loudly enough for everyone to hear, and the cafeteria grew quiet. Some of the
boys were interested in watching Krieger break another new kid, but others kept
their heads down and were thankful that Krieger wasn't speaking to them.

I ignored him
and continued to eat my lunch. Krieger yelled twice more, but I didn't so much
as look his way. I was hoping I could finish my lunch quickly and leave, but the
bully and several of his gang left their table and walked towards me. When
Krieger grabbed the back of my scrub shirt and jerked me to my feet, I lost my
temper and slammed my food tray against his chest. The older inmate stood there
in disbelief with beans and mashed potatoes clinging to his scrubs. I heard a
loud gasp from the spectators who were obviously shocked at my defiance. Their
reaction made me think that I should have swallowed my pride and given up my
lunch.

Two of Krieger's
gang, Colbert and Skinner, grabbed me and held my arms for the furious Krieger,
who used both of his strong hands on my throat to choke me. My older attackers
were too strong for me to break free of their grips, and I knew that none of
the other boys would stand up against the gang to help me. I hoped that one of
the COs would step in, but I knew differently when I saw CO Malley and CO Smith
standing complacently in front of the cafeteria doors. Both of them smiled and
enjoyed the entertainment as Krieger choked me. I briefly wondered if dying
would be so bad, and I had the passing thought to just relax and go with it,
but like most people, my instinct to live was too strong.

I was growing
lightheaded when I remembered what I did to escape Mr. Carver the night he
walked me down the police station steps. As if I were passing out, I relaxed my
body and felt Krieger and his buddies loosen their grips, allowing my body to
slide downwards. I quickly eyed my target and with all my strength, I launched
my knee upward and made solid contact with Krieger's jewels. He dropped his
hands from my throat, covered his groin, and fell to his knees. I moved swiftly,
elbowing Skinner in mouth and jerking free of Colbert. Before I could make it
to the door, two more of Krieger's boys grabbed me from behind and wrestled me
to the floor where they held me on my back for their leader who was attempting
to stand. I was at the mercy of five older boys, one of whom was the insanely
furious Krieger.

While two of the
gang held me flat on my back to the cold, tile floor, Krieger crawled atop my chest.
The bully moved up until his knees pressed his weight down on my biceps, and
his crotch wedged against my chin. With Krieger atop me and two boys holding my
legs, I was helpless in one of Krieger's favorite positions, as he loved to
humiliate his victim by rubbing his smelly crotch and butt on a kid's face. If
he had gas, he would squat over the boy's mouth and nose while his gang encouraged
him to expel his noxious fumes.

"What should
I do with this half breed pansy?" Krieger stared down at me and watched
for the fear he enjoyed seeing in his victims' eyes.

"Maybe
start with him eatin' some spit and then piss in his mouth," suggested
Skinner.

"There's a
broom over there against the wall. We could do a magic trick and see how much
we could make disappear," offered Colbert.

"Tell you
what, fish," said Krieger. "I'm gonna give you a chance to say how
sorry you are and give me a good reason not to fuck you up. Maybe you could
make me an offer. Promise me what you'll give me if I don't hurt you too bad.
You could start with the protein bars your caseworker bitch brings you."

I knew that
Krieger got off on humiliated inmates who promised him anything he wanted just
to avoid a beating. Everyone knew about Giles, one of the newer boys, who promised
to do anything if Krieger wouldn't hurt him. When Krieger heard the words he
wanted, he beat Giles anyway and then cruelly abused and humiliated him. Although
the boy had to be treated at the hospital, he was too afraid to snitch. Since
there were no witnesses, there were no consequences for the gang's actions,
which included violating the boy with a broom handle.

There was no
outside investigation because Giles was a poor kid from a bad home. His only
relative didn't care enough to visit, take a phone call, or answer a letter. If
I gave in, I would end up no better than Giles did, so there was no way in hell
I would give Krieger what he wanted. Instead, I would take a beating and focus
on payback. I would watch for even the smallest chance to show Krieger the
furious hate he had harvested.

"You better
say something, pussy," demanded Krieger. He was frustrated that I was not
begging him.

When I still refused
to speak, Krieger slammed his fist into my face, which caused my head to bounce
off the tile floor. It hurt like hell. After each fist, Krieger asked the question
again. After each question, came my silence, followed by another fist. My defiance
continued until my face was painfully swollen. I could feel warm blood flowing
from my nose and mouth, and I thought some of my teeth were loose. With a
painful punch that turned my head sideways, I saw the COs still standing with
their arms crossed at the cafeteria door. They watched Krieger beat me as if
they were spectators enjoying a sporting event. I wondered how many blows it
would take before Krieger knocked me out or killed me, and what lie Malley would
tell.

"Aw, look
guys," said Krieger. "His mouth is bleeding. Let me help wash off
that blood for you, pansy."

Krieger slid
backwards and lowered his face to within a few inches of mine. He began working
up his saliva, bringing it to his lips so that his thick strand of drool hung
precariously over my face and brought howls of laughter from his gang. The more
encouragement his gang members shouted, the closer Krieger lowered his drool to
my mouth.

Krieger believed
he was invincible. At only fourteen years old, he was already a heartless
animal and the toughest, meanest delinquent ever to swagger through the halls
of Stockwell where he was the uncontested king of his pod. In the communal
bathroom, Krieger loved staring at his reflection in the long mirror over the
sinks. He bragged that he was so hot that girls used to take one look at him
and give him anything he wanted. He loved preening in the mirror almost as much
as he enjoyed the sense of god-like power he felt when he rendered a younger
boy helpless, beaten, and humiliated.

As his gang
cheered him on, Krieger rode a high that blinded him to the white-hot anger
growing in me. I didn't just hate Krieger. I hated a long list of people who
had hurt me. I thought of them all, and my rage burned though me until I wanted
to rip out Krieger's heart. I settled for what was handy, and the fall from
Krieger's throne was unbelievably quick.

For just a
moment, Krieger was confused when I raised my face up closer to the hanging drool.
A half second later, I changed Krieger from king to a pitiful little boy who
would have cried for his mommy all night long if the hospital doctor had not
sedated him.

With a loud
grunt, Krieger jerked his head back and grabbed his bloody face. The cafeteria
fell silent as his hands relayed the horrific message to his brain.

Most of his nose
was gone.

I had ripped it from
his face and spat it onto the tile floor like a distasteful piece of spoiled
meat, leaving Krieger with only a bloody stump of bone and gristle on his once
handsome face. It was a harsh blow to a vain teenager and ironic justice for a
heartless bully.

The next noise from
Krieger began as the full-throated roar of a wounded animal before evolving
into a bone-chilling, sickening wail that bounced off the walls of the
cafeteria and sent mice scurrying back through the holes in the baseboards. He
screamed for his gang to help him, but instead of offering any assistance, the
boys backed away from where he still kneeled on the floor until they were a
safe distance from Krieger and me.

The boys stopped
eating. Some ran to the restroom to give up their lunches while others hurled
before they made it that far. Many of them sat astonished, mouths agape, as
they saw me struggle to my feet to stand before Krieger, whose hysterical sobs came
in waves that racked his body. With his hands covering his face, it was the
first time I clearly noticed the white scars on his knuckles.

I was painted with
blood, some of Krieger's and some of my own. Witnesses described me as looking
like one of the victims in a slasher movie. However, I didn't act like a victim
when I attacked Krieger, who was still on his knees in front of me. I wanted to
destroy him.

Some of the boys
said that I growled like an animal when I threw all of my weight behind a vicious
knee-lift that struck Krieger underneath his chin. The blow snapped his head back
with enough force that he landed flat of his back. My fury burned with no sign
of slowing as I rained down hard kicks and stomps to the other boy's ribs, abs,
and groin.

It was not
nearly enough for me to hear Krieger weeping and moaning unintelligible sounds.
If the COs had not pulled me off him, I would have tried to kill him. I loudly
cursed them for waiting until I was beating Krieger to break up the fight. When
they took me to isolation, they beat me with a belt and threatened to do worse
if I talked.

I was honest
with Miss Martin about everything except my intentions for Krieger. When I
finished telling her my story, I could see that she was angry. She believed
every word I said, and she told me how uncomfortable she had been with Malley's
shifty mannerisms and his difficulty maintaining eye contact in the director's
office. She marveled at the nerve of the man who tried to explain away my
injuries as bumps and bruises that were common when two trained guards had to
control a resisting juvenile. She believed that Malley was living desperately
in a fantasy world to think anyone would look at me and believe the CO's story.

To test her
theory, she called Director Atkins and told him that it was urgent that he join
us immediately. When he began to question the necessity of her request, she
told him that her next call would be to her boss, who would lodge a complaint
with the state police and that it might look like Atkins was covering up a
crime. When the director walked into the room and saw me, he realized that his
career was in jeopardy. He regretted giving Malley autonomy over the operation and
knew that he had been negligent in never checking up on A Pod.

After Miss
Martin and I brought Atkins up to date on what was happening without his
knowledge in his own institution, I went to the hospital where I was treated
and released. I had no major injuries and simply needed time to recover from
the beating that Krieger and the COs had given me. When I returned to the
detention center, I spent some days resting in the infirmary with a county
deputy assigned for my protection. I remained under guard until the state
police concluded their investigation. Miss Martin made sure that a dentist treated
me for the broken tooth, and she referred me for appropriate counseling.

As soon as
Atkins left Miss Martin and me, he placed Malley on leave pending a formal investigation
by state police and ordered Krieger's gang members separated within the
isolation pod. With assurances that Malley, Krieger, and his gang would never
again live in the same pod with them, many of the boys gave statements to the
police about the crimes they had witnessed. They all confirmed that my actions
were a case of self-defense and offered other instances of assaults by Krieger
and Malley.