CHAPTER 19

 

“So that was a riot.”

Me, Manny and Dusty were sitting on his bunk while Dusty did his books. He was king shit now on account of all the dope he had to sell. We were all getting rich. I had three hundred in green myself, not to mention all the cookies and cigarettes I wanted. Dusty treated you right. So far, I hadn’t had to do much. Threaten a guy once in a while. One guy, we jacked up, Manny and I, broke some teeth out, shit like that. Scared him. He paid up. It was an easy job.

Manny was talking about the riot.

“Yeah, that’s pretty much it,” said Dusty, toting up figures in a long column. “That’s what a riot’s all about.”

“What’d you think a riot was like?” I asked Manny.

“I don’t know...something more I guess.”

“That was a pretty typical one,” I said. “Guys go nuts, grab a hack if they can, burn everything in sight and shank their best friend. The warden lets it go on a few days for political reasons.”

“Whaddya mean?”

I explained how it worked.

“The warden knows he can shut most any riot down in five seconds but he doesn’t. He calls up the papers, the governor, people like that, tells ‘em he’s got a serious situation on his hands, gets interviewed by everybody and his brother. Newspapers, TV, you name it. Milks that puppy like a big ol’ Holstein. Then, he sends in about fifty hacks with shotguns and tear gas and it’s all over in about five minutes. He coulda done that at the git-go but then he wouldn’t get all that wonderful publicity. Now, he looks like some kind of hero to the straights. They think he’s this tough motherfucker on crime, criminals.”

“You’re shittin’ me.”

“Yeah? Didn’t it go down just like I laid it out?”

It had, too. Soon as the Man moved in with the 12 gauges, guys laid down their shanks all over the place, fought each other to get in line and give themselves up. It was a riot ending the riot.

“Hey, dummy, why you think we give ourselves up? You see many punk kids do that? Unh-uh.” Dusty put away his sheet and fired up a Camel. “No. All you seen up there with us was old-timers who know the score. You watch this warden, he’ll be running for lieutenant governor in a year. The dummies out there will vote him in in a landslide.”

“That’s right,” I agreed. “This is my ninth riot and they’re all the same. Mostly, it lets guys blow off a little steam. If we didn’t have one once in a while, the warden would probably make us have one. Let me ask you this, Manny—you talk to any of those reporters that came by?”

The day after the riot a bunch of Clark Kents took a tour of the institution. All in a bunch and about ten hacks with them, along with the warden.

“No, why would I?”

“Exactly. You ain’t the type the warden would let talk to a reporter.”

“Why not?”

“You might tell them the truth. Only ones get to talk to reporters are old-timers who want to make trusty. Warden isn’t totally a dumbass.”

Just then there was a commotion up by the front door and it opened and in came four guards.

“Manuel Del Rio, get your ass up here!”

They even put the cuffs on Manny before they took him away. That was serious when they did that.

The dorm went nuts after they left with Manny, everybody wondering what the fuck he’d done.

Dusty thought somebody’d snitched us out for the dope we were selling. I hoped he was right but I had a pretty good idea that wasn’t it. Sure enough, back he came in about four hours and he was about as white-faced as a Mexican could get. Right away he came for me and got me off back in a corner.

“That guy was stabbed?” he said. “They think I done it.”

“What guy?” I said, playing dumb.

“Don’t fuck with me, Jake.” He was mad, really mad.

“Okay, okay, I know what guy. Why’d they think you did it?”

“Why? Oh, gee, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I held him over the rail in quarantine till he shit his pants.”

“They don’t know that was you,” I said. They didn’t, either. If they’d seen who did it that time, Manny would have got sent to the hole right away. I told him that.

“Yeah. You’re right there, buddy. Somebody snitched me out but I played dumb. Kept telling them it wasn’t me. They don’t believe me but there ain’t much they can do. It’s my word against whoever snitched me out.”

“That’s good, Manny. Just hang tough. There ain’t much they can do.” He was a standup guy, for sure, and I didn’t think I had to worry about him cracking, but I did feel bad he had to go through this on my account. I decided to level with him.

“It was me lit up that punk,” I said. “But if you hang in there they’ll never know. This’ll all blow over.” I told him when and how I did it and he remembered. I didn’t tell him why.

“Yeah, that’s right. Me and Dusty wondered where you’d got off to. I shoulda figured it was you done him. Only I didn’t know his name. Well, this is some shit, bro, but don’t worry—I’m not gonna snitch you out.”

I thanked him and I meant it and then I had a twinge of conscience. “Manny, there’s something you ought to know.” I wasn’t sure if I should tell him this, but decided I owed it to him. “They can’t prove anything, sure, but you don’t tell them what you know, there’s probably gonna be some trouble for you. You might not make parole first time out. Maybe they work you over sometime.”

“Aw, shit, Jake. I can take whatever they dish out. I don’t give a fuck if they beat me even. It won’t be the first time the Man took a poke at me. I’m Mexican, remember? We were born to be fucked with by the Man.” His whole attitude changed; now he was my friend, proud of how he’d handled the interrogation, hadn’t weakened.

“No, Manny, this may cause you serious trouble,” I said. “No matter if they don’t do anything, they can still fuck you up another way. This’ll go in your jacket and when you come up for parole they’ll use it against you. You’ll probably get denied, first time. In fact, I’d bet on it.”

It was the truth. They couldn’t get at a guy one way, they always had his parole they could fuck with. And they usually did.

He got serious again. “How can they do that? They can’t prove nothing.”

I ran it down for him. “Manny, this is the joint. They don’t have to prove anything.”

He saw I was right. “You think I’ll have to do my whole bit?” He was on a one to ten, should make parole in ten months this hadn’t happened.

“No, they’ll probably deny you the first time, figure that’s enough punishment.” I wasn’t blowing smoke saying that. That was about the way the warden’s mentality worked. “Keep your nose clean the rest of the way and you’ll make it the next time up.”

“Six more months you’re saying.”

“Yeah.”

He was quiet for a minute or two. Then, he said, “Fuck it. Piece of cake. I’m your man, Jake.”

I could have hugged him I loved that guy so much right then. He was willing to give up six months of his freedom for me and we hardly knew each other. Before Pendleton we’d been casual acquaintances, nothing more. He knew what it meant. He was giving up six months for the four or five or more years I’d end up doing if they found out who shanked Boles. More, if he died. What do you say to a guy like that?

“I won’t forget this, Manny.”

“I know,” is all he said.

We talked some more about Boles and came to the conclusion that either he hadn’t come to yet down there in the hospital in Indy or else he was keeping his mouth shut. So far, anyhow. Who knows what he’d do once he got back here, provided, of course, that he lived. I knew what I was going to have to do if he came back. Ice him. I couldn’t take a chance on him deciding one fine day he was going to snitch me out. Even if he didn’t, he would own me. I’d rather do a hundred years in solitaire than have him or any other punk own me.

From then on Manny and I were like brothers. They didn’t question him any more and they never came for me or Dusty. We figured they thought they’d find out what happened when Boles came back to the joint, soon as he was well enough to be transported back. I’d have to find a way to get over to the infirmary, which is where they’d keep him till he healed all the way.

I told Manny about Donna. Not even Dusty or Bud knew what had happened, why I’d tried to kill myself that time.

“She stabbed this girl,” I said. I don’t know why I was telling him all this, stuff I hadn’t even told Bud. “This other girl I dated a couple of times. We’d broke up for about the twentieth time, me and Donna.”