Read The Mistri Virus Page 9


  The deputy pulled the car into an empty parking place and turned off the engine. After getting out, he held the back door open so Tommy could crawl-slide over and out. He offered no assistance. That was fine with Tommy.

  Tommy wore shackles around his ankles and his wrists were handcuffed to a chain that wrapped around his stomach. The handcuffs were locked inside an aluminum ‘black box’ that prevented anyone from getting a key anywhere near the handcuff locks to get them open. without first removing the black box.

  When he was out and standing on his feet, the deputy closed the door and led him to the front door of the prison. Inside he told Tommy to have a seat. Tommy walked over to some chairs and took a seat.

  Within minutes, a prison guard was hovering over him and glaring as if Tommy had spit on his wife.

  “What the hell you call yourself doin’ boy?” the guard asked sarcastically, wallowing a cud of chewing tobacco around in his jaw.

  Tommy looked up at him and saw a man with a mid-sixties IQ and knew he was in a no-win situation. “Sitting down,” he smiled.

  “Sitting down, what?” the guard sneered.

  “Sitting down...on a chair, Officer?” Tommy replied innocently. He was lost for words, not having a clue as to what the guard wanted or expected.

  “I ain’t no goddamn ‘Officer’, boy!” he screamed at the top of his lungs.

  “That, right over there is a ‘officer’! I’m a Boss!” he added proudly.

  “A boss of what?”

  “A boss of you, boy! What else?”

  “I don’t know what else. Enlighten me,” Tommy said, grinning in amusement when he saw the bewildered look in the guards eyes.

  The deputy laughed.

  “I’ll enlighten ya all right! I’ll put so much light in your head, you’ll see in the dark, like a car!” the guard said in a menacing tone beginning to get mad.

  “That’s easy to say, now. I’m all chained down. But, if you want to give it a shot, try it bad ass!” Tommy said, as he prepared himself for the attack. “You might get lucky, boy!” Tommy grinned, to provoke the guard.

  He figured he may as well establish himself right off, to let everyone know where and how he stood.

  The angry guard stepped forward to put momentum behind his swing. It was exactly what Tommy was counting on. He leaned back in his chair, as if ducking the blow, then kicked out with both legs at the guard’s knee.

  The dislocation of the knee joint sounded like a rifle shot. It was immediately drowned out by the high pitched scream of the guard. It was heard far and wide in the hallways of the prison.

  Tommy immediately crossed his legs over the guards head and neck and pulled the chain tight. He pulled the guard back toward him as the front lobby began to fill with many more guards from inside the prison.

  “Boy, you better turn him a’loose! ‘Er I’ll chop yer laigs off at the goddamn knee!” one guard threatened.

  “By the time you lift your foot to take your first step he’ll be dead,” Tommy said seriously, glancing at the guard trying to get his fingers under the chain around his neck. He was failing miserably. “So, here’s what I suggest. The Deputy takes my cuffs and chain off. Then, he unlocks one of the leg irons and locks it back around the other one. Then, he takes the other one off. I’ll not attempt to escape out the door, because the fight will be fair then. You all, against me. What do you say?”

  “Boy, we’ll kill you!” one guard said seriously.

  “No, we’ll just establish who the boys are and who the men are here.”

  “Deputy, turn that bitch a’loose so we ‘kin kick his ass proper!”

  “I don’t advise that, Gentlemen,” the Deputy smiled. He’s a very dangerous man.”

  “We didn’t ask for your advise. We asked you to turn him aloose. So turn ‘im aloose!” one demanded.

  “Okay,” the Deputy laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “But, don’t say later that you weren’t warned,” the Deputy said, as he began to unfasten the cuffs, belly chain and leg irons.

  When he finished he stepped back and Tommy pushed the injured guard away, then stood up to face the rest of them. They wasted no time pressing the attack en masse. It was basically a free-for-all. The guards had no discipline and swung wide and wild. It was obvious they had had no formal training.

  When the head warden entered and yelled, “Stop!” at the top of his voice, everyone standing froze. Those who froze were Tommy and three guards. Six others lay on the floor moaning, rolling back and forth, nursing broken bones or dislocated joints. “What in the world is going on in here?” the Warden continued, seeing he had everyone’s attention. He looked at each person in turn, expecting an answer.

  No one spoke.

  “I asked a question!” he yelled. “By God, I expect an answer and somebody better start talking, fast!”

  “Well, Warden, it was like this,” one of the standing guards began to explain. When he finished, the Warden just shook his head in bewilderment.

  “I cannot believe that eight of you could not subdue one single man. Something is wrong with this picture and I intend to change it! Who are you?” he added, looking over at Tommy.

  “My name is Tommy Mistri. I’m here to serve a five-year sentence for first degree assault.”

  “Well, you’ll not be serving it here. We can’t have this type of grudge left to fester. We’ll find you dead some morning and that will remain a mystery! So, come in my office and we’ll figure it out,” the Warden said to Tommy, then turned and walked away.

  Tommy smiled at the guards who leered at him as he passed.

  “Boys,” he said softly to them as he went down the hallway to join the warden.

  When Tommy entered the warden’s office he was invited to sit down, and then offered coffee or soda.

  “Thank you Warden, but I only drink water.”

  “Then, water it shall be, Mister Mistri,” the warden said, smiling. “You seem to have some friends in high places, I hear,” he continued, as he poured ice water into a glass and handed it to his guest.

  “A few, I suppose,” Tommy replied.

  “It was requested of me by the Governor to assign you to the Connors Unit, in Hominy. Any particular reason you care to share with me?” he asked, refilling the glass for Tommy, who had drank it down as if he were dying of thirst.

  “I have no idea why he would make such a request. Does he often request such special assignments?”

  “Never. But, he is a new Governor. And new Governors are known for making changes to the status quo for the first year or so,” he stated knowingly, handing the glass back to Tommy. “Usually for no particular reason,” he continued. “Maybe just to make a mark of their passing,” he added, thoughtfully.

  “Perhaps,” Tommy agreed.

  “Wardens get in a rut. Things stay the same because Wardens stay put. Governors, however seem to never be satisfied. They always want to move higher, making their own improvements to a machine that was working fine before their arrival and will be working fine when they’re gone to their higher station in life. Perhaps the Senate. Or Congress. Occasionally even the White House.” he went on shaking his head from side to side as if in bewilderment.

  The Warden’s observations required no answers or comment from him, so Tommy remained quiet and listened respectfully.

  “I would advise you, Mister Mistri, to watch your step while you are in our care and custody. Prison staff have long, unforgiving memories. So, you can’t expect to always beat the system. Sure, you may win for a while, but some night, while you’re fast asleep in bed, you’ll have a midnight visitor or three. They’ll be as quiet as a mouse, but with the full intention of killing you. And they will, because eventually, you will have to sleep.

  “You’re not the only dangerous person in our custody, Mister Mistri, as you will soon learn. Even at the Connors Unit, there are some very deadly men.

  “So, just stay out of sight and you will remain out of mind, as the old saying go
es. Mind your own business. Do your own time. Avoid the bad people like the plague and the three deadly sins of prison: drugs, gambling and homosexuals and you should be alright. But, there are those who will feel it necessary to see what you are made of. To test you. To try you. From my observations, thus far, they are in for a bit of enlightenment about the degree of resolve of some men.

  “So, when you are challenged in the least, handle it quickly and decisively. Never back down or make excuses. If you do, the predators will be on you like sharks on chum.

  “That concludes my advice to you, Mister Mistri,” the Warden smiled fatherly. “Except, always, and I do mean always, be right. Have witnesses, or no witnesses. Have no close friends. They will sell you out instantly for their own gain. If you have secrets, keep them. Secrets are a liability in places such as these.

  “Any questions? Concerns? Anything like that?”

  “No, Sir. I do appreciate your advice and counsel, and your concern for my well being, though. I appreciate honesty and humanity in a person of authority. Such as yourself,” Tommy said sincerely.

  “Thank you, Sir. I know you are a well educated man. Military bearing. Officer, would be my guess. Special Forces, perhaps. Highly motivated. Dedicated. Loyal. Honest. Independent. Trustworthy. Did I leave anything out?” he smiled, ruefully.

  “Deadly, extremely.”

  “Yes, yes. I forgot deadly. Very deadly.”

  “It is amazing you can come to such accurate conclusions about me in such a short period of time,” Tommy said.

  “I’ve spent my life around men of all stripe. Both good and bad. Mostly bad. One learns if one pays attention. Men wear their credentials on their sleeve, like a badge of honor. Which they are in some respects.

  “Most men have to brag. They are nothing special. Those who are quiet, though. They are the special ones. Such as yourself.

  “For example, the deadly creatures of the earth are quiet and stealthy. Their prey, on the other hand, is loud, careless and draws attention. The hunters have their eyes in the front of their face, like man. The prey? Their eyes are on the sides, for a wide angle field of vision. They need every advantage they can get when dealing with the truly dangerous and deadly,” the Warden concluded, then changed the subject.

  “Well, Sir,” he said. “I must make arrangements for your transport to the Connors Unit. It is a very long ride. Perhaps I will drive you myself. Yes, perhaps I will. In fact, I will! I enjoy your company and would like to know you better. You intrigue me, for one thing, Mister Mistri. For another, I enjoy being around educated, self-contained men, such as yourself. Would you mind if I drive you? No, of course you wouldn’t. Of course, if you should try and escape, I will kill you. Be assured of that.”

  “I will not attempt escape, Sir. You have my word of honor on that.”

  “Good, then, we won’t need chains and such. I hate chaining men like animals. But, some men must be chained, though. They have no self-control. Make no mistake about that. But, you are not such a man as those, Mister Mistri. I sense it... Well, then. That’s settled. Shall we go? We have a long drive ahead of us.”

  “Of course, sir, at your convenience,” Tommy said, as he stood and set the glass on the edge of the desk on a coaster. He hated that the small talk had come to an end. He had enjoyed listening to the old man ramble on. He hoped he would continue on the ride to the Connors Unit.

  * * * * *

  Tommy’s wish was fulfilled. The slim, grey haired old man, talked non-stop. His slate blue eyes sparkled with a touch of madness, perhaps. Or amusement, as he regaled Tommy with stories of his life, his loves, his adventures, regrets, sorrows and accomplishments.

  By the time they arrived at the Connors Unit, Tommy felt as if he had known the old warden his entire life; like one would know a favorite grandfather, or uncle.

  Tommy sat in the reception area of the prison without chains or shackles while the old warden talked to Warden Chambers, the new warden of the Connors Unit for nearly an hour. When they came out, Chambers nearly panicked seeing one of his prisoners sitting unfettered and unguarded in the lobby of his prison.

  “I’ve filled Warden Chambers in on you, Tommy. He assures me you are safe and in good hands here. He has also heard from the Governor concerning your status. So, you should be fine. Is there anything you need before I leave, son?” he asked sincerely, his old eyes glimmering wetly.

  “Yes, Sir, if you don’t mind,” Tommy responded.

  “And that would be?”

  “Your name, Sir. You’ve never told me your name.”

  “Well, I’ll be damned! I haven’t, have I?”

  “No, Sir.”

  “It’s James Ketchum, Tommy,” he replied offering his hand.

  “Thank you, Sir. I’ll never forget your kindness,” he promised, taking the man’s hand in both of his and shaking it warmly.

  Tommy was sad to see Warden Ketchum leave once he had officially turned custody over to Warden Chambers. But, his leaving was inevitable and Tommy watched him go in silence.

  Chapter 6

  “Follow me, Mister Mistri,” Warden Chambers said as he turned and started down a long hallway. Tommy followed as directed.

  “Have a seat,” Chambers said when Tommy came into the office. He sat behind his desk and watched as Tommy took an empty chair in front of his desk.

  Tommy sat and began to study the middle aged man with salt and pepper hair, black moustache, brown eyes, a ruddy complexion and a build like a linebacker.

  “First off, let’s get one thing straight. The Governor does not run this prison. I do,” Chambers said sternly, studying Tommy. “I make the decisions about who does what. And when they do it, inside these fences. I decide who gets what privileges and when they get them. Not the Governor. I, and I alone, decide whether your time here is easy or hard. Do we understand each other, Mister Mistri?”

  “Absolutely, Warden,” Tommy replied.

  “Therefore, I have decided that you will be persona non grata inside this institution, until, and not before, you prove to me that you deserve ‘special’ treatment.

  “I have informed my staff that they are not to interact with you in any way. They will not speak to you, assist you, or hamper you. You will be as a ghost. A mystery man, if you will, to all inmates and staff alike. Any staff member who breaks these simple rules will be terminated ‘post haste’.

  “Now, you, you will be given free rein to do what you like. Basically, go where you are allowed to go, interact with the inmates here who allow you to. It will be up to you to defend yourself the best way you can, against however many come against you. My staff will not interfere. You shall quickly sink or swim on your own. Is that understood, Mister Mistri?”

  “Yes, Sir, Warden,” Tommy answered calmly, trying to figure out the Warden’s game. So far, it was beyond him.

  “You will be allowed a single cell. It will be up to you to defend and protect it. In other words, you will keep other aggressive inmates out who believe they deserve it more. You will keep your private possessions in it. My staff will not interfere in your defense of your turf. If you lose it, that will mean you are not tough enough to defend it and therefore, do not deserve it.

  “Now, if we understand each other, you are free to go to population and face whatever awaits you, whether good or ill,” Chambers concluded with a knowing smile, as if he had sentenced Tommy to death. He stood and pointed to the door. He didn’t offer to shake Tommy’s hand.

  “One question, if I may, Warden?” Tommy asked as he stood up from the chair and looked Chambers in the eyes.

  “Go ahead,” Chambers replied as if a great imposition had been placed on him.

  “Why are you being so careless and cruel to someone you don’t know? I’ve never seen, spoken or met you before today and you seem to wish me dead. Why?”

  “Simple,” Chambers replied smugly. “I do not like privilege. I do not like soldiers. I do not like killers; in war or peace. I do not ca
re about you or your welfare here. My job is to keep you here. That is all.

  “I will not endanger the lives or health of my staff to protect you. They are all law abiding citizens, far and beyond above you. And that, Mister Mistri is why I do not care if you live or die here. You are the scum of the earth, Mister Mistri, and as such, so shall you be treated,” Chambers stated calmly and seriously, as if he believed each and every word he had spoken. He stepped around his desk and stood in front of Tommy. He looked up into Tommy’s eyes and smiled. “Any comment?” he asked, grinning fearlessly.

  “Not according to Samuel Clemmons,” Tommy said, looking into the warden’s glassy brown eyes.

  “Samuel Clemmons?”

  “Mark Twain?” Tommy queried.

  “What does he have to do with this?”

  “Mark Twain said that if one wished to see the true scum of the earth, all one had to do was be at any American prison at shift change,” he laughed, softly.

  “And what do you say, Mister Mistri?”

  “I’m beginning to agree with Mister Twain, Warden.”

  “Get out of my office, smart ass! Before I throw you out!”

  “Warden, you are free to try. As is anyone,” Tommy smiled in invitation, standing his ground.

  “Get out!” Chambers yelled loudly.

  Tommy stared him in the eyes for a moment longer. Then, realizing the warden wasn’t going to attempt to make good on his promise and ‘throw him out’, he turned away and walked slowly out of the office. He slammed the door in contempt as he left. Then laughed out loud as he walked down the hallway to the reception area.

  As he entered, a door over to his left buzzed loudly. He looked at the guard at the reception desk to his right. The guard pointed to the door, then buzzed it again. Tommy walked to the door and the guard buzzed it again when he took the handle and pushed his way through.

  He released the door and it closed behind him. He stood in what appeared to be a visiting room. If he continued through the door to his right he would go outside to the visiting yard. A guard waved him straight through past several vending machines and held a door open to his right. He noticed that several inmates were involved in visits. He paid them no mind and continued toward the guard who was holding the door for him. He stepped through and into a long hallway that ran both left and right.