Inmate 1577

34

MacNally lay on his cot the rest of the night but did not sleep. His rectum felt like it was on fire, and his groin and legs ached. He understood what it must feel like for a woman to be forcibly penetrated.

Carl and Kurt smiled at him when they got up to go to breakfast. They gave him a pat on the shoulder as they left the cell.

Carl winked at him. “Good job last night.”

“Nice ride,” Kurt said. “Maybe tonight we’ll try something different.”

MacNally didn’t know what the appropriate response should be. Incite them, stand up for himself-or take it and not say anything that might antagonize them? He chose the latter. He needed guidance, someone who could tell him how to avoid being a lop. He had no interest in being a predator, but there had to be a middle ground…some way he could be left alone to serve out his time in peace.

Forty-five years. Time? More like a lifetime.

The way things were now, he would not last a year, let alone forty-five. He would seek out Voorhees. At least he had been straight with him once. Maybe he would be again.

“WE SHOULDN’T BE TALKIN’ OUT here in the open,” Voorhees said. “Go to the ladder room.” He gave MacNally instructions on how to get there, told him he would leave the door unlocked, and that he should wait ten minutes before joining him.

Once inside the room, which did, in fact, contain ladders, MacNally presented his predicament as a hypothetical situation.

“Hypothetically,” Voorhees said, “Let me tell you how this goes down. It’s our job to protect inmates that’ve been assaulted or prayed on. So if we weren’t talking about a hypothetical situation here, I’d lock you up in protective custody. And that, well, may not be such a good deal for you. So keep one thing in mind: if all you do is run to me, then you’re gonna be turned out.”

“Turned out?”

“Word’s gonna get out-if it hasn’t already-that you’re a lop, a whore, a prison punk that’s the lowest piece of shit. You’ll be sodomized and traded like a fucking sex slave.”

MacNally started to speak, but Voorhees held up a hand.

“I know what you’re thinking. Do the protective custody thing and we can send you to another prison where they don’t know you.” Voorhees shook his head. “Won’t matter. What happens in one makes its way to another. Cons have ways of communicating. Coded messages in letters home to girlfriends. Classified ads in known magazines where cons send messages to each other.”

“So what the hell am I supposed to do?”

“First, you’re taking a huge risk even talking to me. Something like this can catch you in the ass big time. No pun intended.”

“Too late. I’m here.”

“Look, MacNally. I’m at the Big L for an eight-hour shift. The other sixteen hours, you’re on your own. See what I’m saying? I can’t protect you.”

“I’m not asking you to protect me. I’m asking-I don’t know what I’m asking. I don’t know how to survive. I’m not like these guys here. I robbed a couple banks, yeah, but I…I’m different. I was doing it to survive, for my son. This may not come out right, but I’m not a bad person, I was just an average family guy who had no-”

“Then you gotta figure out what you gotta do in here, to survive. Some ways, bein’ in here ain’t much different from being out in the real world. Society’s got laws on the outside. In here, we got laws, too. Not just the laws of the prison, but con law. A code. You’ll figure it out. Maybe someone here’ll give you some guidance. Just be careful. They give you something, they’re gonna want something back in return.”

“Anyone ever get killed here? I mean, rape’s one thing. But…”

“It ain’t an everyday thing, but does it happen? Hell yeah. Look at what we got here, MacNally. Murderers, sex deviants, rapists, child molesters, kidnappers, drug addicts, armed robbers, mobsters, bikers. Bad shit’s gonna happen when you put crap like that under one roof. All trying to prove how tough they are, who’s got the most power. The biggest dick. That’s why they’re here. They do bad shit, and if they cause problems at other prisons, they send ’em to us. So. Murder in the Big L?” He chuckled. “Bet on it.”

“I’m just trying to make sense of it all, figure out how I can find my place.”

Voorhees laughed, a rough, uneven smoker’s rasp. “Boil everything down, it’s about power. And fear. And anger. Keep those three things in mind, and you may get some kinda understanding of what these assholes are after.”

MacNally nodded.

Voorhees lowered his voice. “I can’t be your friend, MacNally. People’d find out, they’d think you’re either my snitch or I’m fucking you. And it ain’t good for me because I’d look weak to my colleagues.” MacNally started to object, but Voorhees stopped him. “Ain’t important for you to understand. Just telling you like it is.” He shrugged. “Now, you want to feed me stuff, things cons are planning, maybe we can work something out. Shift around your living arrangements. Wouldn’t be hard. We could communicate through kites-”

“Is that what this whole thing’s been about?”

“What whole thing?”

“You people know what Wharton and Gormack are. You see a skinny guy like me and you think, We can use him. Put him in with those animals, they’ll fuck him over. Literally. And then if he doesn’t like it, he’ll come crawling to us because he can’t take that kind of abuse. So you turn me into a snitch.”

“Hey,” Voorhees said. “Those are your words. I’m just offering you an out. That’s what you want, ain’t it?”

“Sounds like something that can get me killed.”

“Play it real careful, might get you a ticket outta here.”

“Out, as in released?”

Voorhees frowned. “Transferred. Maybe to a place that’s a little more to your liking.”

MacNally chewed on that.

“If you want a shot at this, you gotta be smart about it. Keep your ears open, your eyes open. Learn prison life, who’s who. If you’re gonna do this, you gotta know what you’re talking about, you gotta know that what you’re seeing is what you think it is. We can’t move on a guy for some bullshit thing. Because you give us shit, you get shit from us in return. And that for sure will get you killed.”

“Sounds like a long-term proposition. I don’t have long term. I’ve gotta end this now.”

Voorhees shrugged a shoulder. “Fine. Bottom line, then. You don’t wanna be fucked like that again, stand up for yourself. Today, before your rep is permanently thrown under the truck.”

MacNally nodded.

Voorhees leaned in closer. “The cons, they talk. I hear shit when we shake guys down, pressure ’em. You want advice, you want a taste of con law, here it goes. Every inmate has three choices.” He counted them off his thick fingers. “He can fight-meaning make the guy pay who gets in his face. Hard-so he doesn’t even think again about hurting you.”

Second finger went up. “He can hit the fence-escape.” Third finger. “Or he can submit and get fucked. Now, I gave you a fourth choice, help us out. Doesn’t look like it’s gonna solve your problem. So you’re left with three. But I didn’t tell you any of that. I find out you repeated it, and I hear you said it came from me, you and me will undergo some thump therapy in a dark cell. You get me?”

MacNally had an idea: he’d be beaten.

“I were you,” Voorhees said with a tug on his belt, “I’d grow a set of balls. Fast. As in five minutes after you walk outta here.”

MacNally shifted his feet. Now? Take care of this now?

“Don’t let yourself be a victim. Even if it doesn’t work out, you’ll feel better about yourself in the morning. Just be careful-guys make alliances, they look out for each other. You may think you’re taking on one guy, but suddenly you’re lookin’ at three.”

MacNally tried not to let the building anxiety register on his face. He squared his shoulders, nodded confidently, and said, “Okay.”

“You’re gonna need a weapon. A shank-a homemade knife. Be smart about it. And be efficient. Show no mercy, because they ain’t gonna show you any.”

Voorhees grabbed the doorknob. “Wait ten minutes, then get outta here.”

He left MacNally alone with his thoughts. That wasn’t the type of advice he’d been hoping for. Actually, he didn’t know what he was expecting. He was looking for a solution. Voorhees had no doubt gone the extra mile, probably with some risk, to give him an honest view of his situation.

But as he was now learning, the only true solutions to his problem-this one and those that would undoubtedly surface in the future-could not be found by talking to, or relying on, others.

The answers had to come from within.