CHAPTER

33

We found out where Mrs. Daniels went in a hurry. Just after Johnson came on duty, two officers from Internal Affairs showed up at the house. They were checking on a report of inmate abuse, wanting to interview a bunch of kids.

“I don’t like it, but I can’t stop you,” Johnson told the officers, cold as ice.

That gave dudes an idea of how Johnson was going to look at anyone who opened his mouth too much.

First, those two IA officers talked to us all together in the dayroom on the north side. They told us that everything we said would be on the down-low, and our names wouldn’t show up anywhere. They explained what “reasonable force” meant, and we all laughed out loud.

“Do the officers in this house ever hit inmates when they’re angry?” asked one of them.

Johnson was just around the corner with his ears tuned in, and he had plenty of snitches on his payroll to hear anything he couldn’t.

So kids kept clammed up tight, and all you could hear was the sound of the ceiling fans turning. What did those two expect? If you dished any dirt on the COs, IA would have to change your house. That was like getting kicked in the ass for doing Corrections a favor. Nobody was that fucking dumb.

Then those two officers talked to every inmate in the house, one by one. But everybody on the north side was watching from their beds, and most dudes being interviewed didn’t even want you to see their mouths moving.

When it was my turn, one of the officers looked me over and said, “That cut’s still pretty new. You must know something about violence in the Sprungs.”

I couldn’t tell if that was a question. And they both looked at me like it was my turn to say something.

Finally, I said, “I didn’t get cut in the Sprungs.”

“Well, we can’t hear anything about that then,” said the other one.

I sat there burning. I was thinking, fuck these dudes. All they care about is their damn report. At least Arrigo didn’t front. He was a hard-on CO and he made sure that you knew it, too. These two were just another bullshit part of the system that pretended to be something else. Since it didn’t fit their report, maybe this cut on my face wasn’t even real.

“Did any COs force or coerce inmates to write statements about what happened today?” one of them asked. “You know that coerce could mean to bribe with an extra privilege?”

I sat there looking at him like he was a damn dictionary. But I wouldn’t even give an answer. I didn’t want to fall into any more traps or holes.

After the officers left, Johnson had a big smile on his face. I even heard him singing a little, and he put the phones out almost an hour early that night as a reward for us.

At supper, Sanchez walked along next to Brick. They talked on the low all the way back to the house. I thought Brick might be laying out a new plan to run the phones, but Sanchez was having a lot to say. And I knew his interest in Brick’s business stopped at what he owed.

I was surprised when Sanchez and Brick met with the Spanish dude from the midnight suicide watch. They all went into the bathroom together three different times that night, while Barnett eyed the door. It had to be important because Shaky was nowhere near the action. He was tied to Brick’s bed counting merchandise in the store, over and over again.

Then Jessup came back from the clinic with a couple of escorts. Corrections was packing him up to a new house. They couldn’t leave him here, where the COs were being investigated for beating his ass.

He looked like there was a ripe plum stuffed under his right eye. Dudes wanted to know if he filed charges against Arrigo.

“You makin’ it hot for them, Toothpick?” asked one of the house snitches.

If he wasn’t, that meant Mrs. Daniels was making moves against the COs by herself.

The escorts flipped out and wouldn’t let anyone within ten feet of him after that. They called for Johnson, and he sent everyone into the dayroom.

On the way out, Jessup looked back at us and shook his head, “No.”

Now the COs could figure out how much Mrs. Daniels had taught them.

The snitches reported back to Johnson and he cursed her and the rest of the teachers up and down.

“I couldn’t stand teachers when I was in school, and it’s still that way,” Johnson growled. “Don’t even mention that school in front of me from now on.”

It was almost lights-out when Sanchez finally got back to his bed. He sank into the mattress without taking off his clothes or even his shoes. I might have thought that he was planning to make a break for it. Only I could see that the things on his mind had him weighed down like a cement block. He looked too tired and worn-out to even think about running.

Sanchez didn’t say anything to me. He just stared up at the ceiling until the lights went out.