I have a new bunkmate. Once E was tossed from the building, his bottom bunk became a hot property. “IG”, a young, personable gang banger who does quite well in school, took the bottom bunk below me. He’s a nice kid: barely 21 and two and a half years into a four year sentence for distribution; he’s polite and respectful – usually. Here’s the problem: he’s young. Everyday he’ll say “Heh Larry, have you seen my book? Have you seen my lock? Have you seen my bowl?” He’s a friggin disorganized mess. Crap is piled everywhere! He has no sense of structure, no sense of organization. I finally said “Look IG, I’ll help you get everything organized, but then it’s on you.”
We found out Opie is fine. The “MD” here (I won’t call him a doctor) had blood drawn from Opie – “routine” when he went down to medical with severe intestinal cramps and fever. Three days later, Opie is called back to medical and told “you have either leukemia or AIDS, not sure which. Go back to your building.” Nice.
Extensive blood testing at a real hospital and an oncologist tells him “you have a slight infection in your blood. Take this antibiotic and you’ll be fine. Oh and by the way, the prison doctor is a quack.”
IG Part II. It’s now Tuesday afternoon. I’ve been tutoring all morning, got out for a quick three mile run, shower, lunch and IT academic aide from 1:00 to 4:00. It’s now 5:00 and I’m trying to get a few minutes to do my afternoon Bible reading. IG – I discover – has had his TV enhanced by a budding engineer in here so that he can play his CD player through his TV speakers. You always have to have earbuds in for TV or CD, that’s a DOC rule. But, with no officer on the floor, rules aren’t that important.
So there are seven of the young guys hanging around his bunk while Lil Wayne, or Lil Kim or Lil somebody is rapping away. And it’s loud, friggin loud. I lean over and say “Heh IG, can you please turn it down?” He wasn’t being disrespectful. It was so loud, he couldn’t hear me. How’d I handle it? I jumped up and yelled “IG turn that shit down!” I was beet red in the face (and obviously not paying too much attention to my Bible reading) and saw eight young black guys’ eyes grow wider.
There’s a scene in “Freedom” where Walter has had enough. He’s giving a speech and lets loose with the truth and the audience breaks his jaw and pummels him, but his self-respect is restored. I stood there waiting for my “Walter” beat down. Instead, IG turned the tunes down and said “Sorry man. I never meant to disrespect you.”
And then there was Friday. I was up at the school when the principal, Ms. C saw me. She busts her butt for these guys. She and her husband have dedicated their lives to inmate education. Every day she has to fight the powers that be in this dump who don’t want the inmates to get anything, those narrow minded administrators and officers who fail to grasp the theological and ethical demands to treat even inmates with respect and dignity.
“Larry, I hear from Dr. Y two guys didn’t turn in their research papers. I’ve had it. Between guys cussing professors and not going to class, and not doing the work, I’m going to throw guys out. I can’t keep fighting everyday if they don’t care.” She told me they had until Monday night to turn their papers in or they’d be failed in the class and be tossed out of school. For the second time in 72 hours I was pissed. I found the two guys and went off.
“I’m bustin my ass for you clowns and I find out I care more than you do!”
“But Larry, it doesn’t matter. They won’t let us out early. They won’t really help us. This is all bullshit!”
“How do you know?” Now I’m really fired up. “If I thought stickin a flag in my butt and walkin on my hands would get me out a day early or get the three people I’m heartbroken over to just say ‘I love you’, I’d do it. Every f---in day I do everything I can to believe this will end. Every day I do everything I can to give you dipshits a chance and you just say screw it cause you’re too lazy or stupid to care.”
For the second time in a week I waited for my “Walter” moment. But again, it didn’t come. Instead, these two chuckleheads apologized for letting me down and went to work on their papers.
Big S talked to me later that day. “You can’t save all these guys. You’ll drive yourself crazy. Do what you can and move on.”
I tried to tell him I can’t do that. For better or worse, these guys are the hand I was dealt and I won’t give up on any of them without knowing in my heart I tried. I’ve convinced myself my reason for being here is just that.
Which brings me back to “Freedom”. Walter is heartbroken. He’s imprisoned in his own private cabin suffering from his life’s failure. In perhaps the most powerful scene in the book his daughter says “Dad, if you didn’t still love her you wouldn’t be in such pain.” Walter says “Honey, not all stories have happy endings.”
I won’t give the book away, but I’ve always believed without a happy ending, the story’s never complete. Believing in a happy ending keeps me going.
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