Life Without - A Memoir - continued

[Boots]

How many prison mates are infected so far?

Thanks for the note, serrollt.

There is a chapter in the works on Covid for the story.

Stay tuned!

[Boots]

Ch. 25

Hope

The "Phone room." There was no official name for it, so inmates just called it the Phone Room. I was five back in a line of about 12 inmates who stood outside a transparent glass walled box-like phone booth in the back of this room to make phone calls to family, loved ones, friends and lawyers, although not necessarily in that order. The door could shut air-tight for privacy; not a word could be heard.


The maximum talking time was 10 minutes and it was strictly enforced by inmates and the guard on Phone Room duty who monitored the large clock above the phone booth. This guard always stood off to the side to enforce the no cutting in line rule (which caused fights) and talking more than 10 minute rule (which also caused fights).

The guard wrote the starting time for each inmate on a white board below the wall clock so everybody knew, including the inmate on the phone.

After 4 guys in front of me in line were finished and forty minutes later it was finally my time. There were about 8 convicts behind me.

I walked into the the box and dialed Michele's number. She was my only hope. I needed $275 more than anything and I was going to tell her that if she deposited the money into my inmate account I could pay for educational classes and buy some vitamins because the Chow Hall food was devoid of nutrition (the latter was true).

I pre-paid for the call with my inmate account card by swiping it on the device. I didn't want to call collect. It made me sound broke, which I was, and also sounded awful: "Will you accept this collect call from the Kern State Penitentiary? All calls are recorded."

I picked up the phone, swiped, dialed and waited.

I heard the click of someone picking up the phone on her end. Automatically the recording said like everytime: you are receiving a phone call from the Kern state penitentiary. This call will be monitored and recorded.

"Hello?" I heard.

I said nothing.

"Hello?" the person said again.

I hesitated.

"Who's this?" I asked.

"Well, who is this?" the person responded.

I hesitated for 10 seconds, freezing, saying nothing.

"Hello? Hello?" I heard again.


I slammed the phone down with a smash, hanging up, waiting......staring at the phone while still holding the handle.

"Call finished! hollered the guard. Next!"

I stood there, not moving. Like a stone.

"Call's finished!! Step aside and move out of the box!!!" Yelled the guard.

I stood frozen.

"Come on, man!" an inmate said loudly from the line.

I picked up the hand receiver of the phone and smashed it into the slot where it sits. Then smashed it again, and again and again and again in rapid fire succession that sounded like the loud crack of a snare-drum.

"Hey!!" someone else yelled. "Hey!!"

2 inmates rushed in and grasped me with iron grips in tandem and forcefully pulled me away, but I wouldn't let go of the receiver. They kept pulling me; I kept holding on. A figurative way to not let go. The two kept yanking, now pulling my arms and then neck.

"Let it go!!" His arms wrapped around my chest and then the other put a choke hold around my neck pulling me back as he squeezed while the other was grabbing the phone handle trying to pry it out of my hands. I resisted by planting my feet and refusing to loosen my grip. The receiver was glued to my hands. Finally they got me out of the call-box.

The guard jumped in.

"Come here!! You're done!! F*ckin' Come with me now!!

The guard interlocked my arm with his and dragged me away while I shuffled my feet out of the call room and into the hall. He pushed me with a hard jab as hard as he could outside doorway into the concrete wall. I felt this painful knock instantly against my body and the back of my head.

"You pull that sh*t again and you're going to the hole!!"

Breathing heavy, I said nothing. I was angry, spiteful. Ready to explode. The guard instantly knew the likely reason and I saw some empathy in his eyes. He'd seen it many times before. I stepped back slowly, turned around walked slowly to my cell with my head empty, unable to think of any thoughts. I was shutting things out.

It came to me that I'd heard that voice before....I couldn't place it but I'd heard it before. That meant I'd talk with him in-person at some point in my life.

After a few seconds it came to me:

The pic-nick.

I'd lost 2 things: Her, and my hope to pay my debt.

[Boots]

Ch. 26

Indefinite Lock-down

After my melt-down in the phone room I knew my days were numbered. The Ramirez Brothers and their impending hit by the hands of their henchmen was Concern #1. It was turning into a mental nightmare, and one that I had kept closely to myself. An attack could come at any moment at any time: in the commissary buying top-ramen, at my license plate factory job, in the showers, and in the Chow Hall. In addition to this, Mark was getting more aggravated with my debt, even though I was now off the Hooch. My status with the crew was in jeopardy.


[Chow Hall, view from above with hundreds of inmate eating and talking at long cafeteria tables]


And the Chow Hall was where I am. Lunch-time. With my usual crew led by Mark. He was jovial with me. He wasn't as peeved with me as before. Well if he was, he didn't show it.

We sat with our trays at our long table: eating with the occasional chit-chat. I was tuning out. My dilemma was still on my mind. It was making me neurotic. Every time an inmate walked by I lifted my gaze, latently tensed my shoulders and slightly turned my eyes and head to his direction. I'm sure the others in my crew would notice it soon. Inmates always notice these things. It's a part of the Spidey Senses complex. Chow Hall was about to finish and close in about 5 minutes. We were all done eating.

Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted by a loud scratch.

Like fingernails painfully scraping down a chalkboard.

I knew exactly what this meant: another "public service announcement"

"Good afternoon! This is your Warden, John Hammer.!

We have an important announcement. For your safety and the safety of all of our staff, all inmates will return to their cells after finishing lunch for a Head Count. Do not go to the Rec Yard, any group meetings or educational classes.


We have temporarily suspended them for a day and will give you further notice after all inmates are situated in their cells and counted.

Thank you, John Hammer."


[Inmates are with empty trays slowly getting up to put them back on the racks in the large Chow Hall.


"Suspended for only a day, yeah right," a voice said.

"What's this about? Asked Vance.

"We know what this is about," said Griz. The others nodded.

"It's the virus. Another outbreak again in town. It came back. It's now it's getting closer and closer. Too close. Too close for comfort," Said Mark.

"We're going to lock-down?" asked Vance.

"I assume so," replied Mark. "They never tell us anything until after we're all locked in. We can only assume.

"I heard a rumor that we'll be in indefinite lockdown because of Covid," said Keegan. My buddy Tom works in the intake services office. He
heard 2 guards talking about it yesterday.

"Tom Myers? Tall guy with the Tatts?" Asked Griz.

"Yeah, that Tom."

"How do you know he's not full of sh*t?" asked Griz.

"He's straight up. He does't talk sh*t. Doesn't exaggerate."

"They never tell us reasons or what's going on until we're all in lockdown," added Mark.

"I hope it ain't the case, but I wouldn't be surprised. We're living in a bowl of soup bacteria in there. High density population that's in a confined environment."

"Well anyway, guys....We're done. Let's go....see you all next time," said Mark, "whenever that is....."

"If....there is a next time," said Keegan.

The crew got up in unison and left for their cells for the count.

15 minutes later:

"COUNT TIME!"

During count-time all inmates were to remain in their cell - which were by then locked solid and we were made to stand to make counting easier and quicker for the guards. You don't sit on your bunk or lay down until the count is officially over and it's announced on the intercom PA system.

A full count usually takes about 15 minutes for the entire complex. Guards will count each cell on every tier with those metal hand-held "clicker.s" Then, it must add up exactly with the register that lists all inmates and the total number - minus those in infirmary or in the hole - and it must match perfectly. If not, they have to do the count all over again. You'd be surprised how many guards screw this up on the first count.

We finished the count.

Then the speaker opened with another static-like shrill screech.

"Good afternoon residents of Kern.

It is with regret to announce....that because of the Covid-19 outbreak in our local community - that all inmates will be in an indefinite lock-down until further notice. Meals will be provided to you in your cells. We cannot allow any Rec Yard time, educational services or counseling until we are in full confidence there is no one infected in our facility. This is being done to reduce exposure among inmates and staff at Kern.

We'll inform you of any further details as they come.

Warden Hammer."

Lock-downs can drive an inmate nuts but at least it was buying me time to figure out how to scrape up the funds to pay my debt. This lock-down not only bought me time....it bought me my life......

[Boots]

Ch. 27


Lock-down Conversations with Mark & 2 1/2 Down


Lockdown:

You're caged in 24/7. Not just you, but you and your cellie. You don't leave your concrete box for nothin'.

No chow hall. Food is brought to you in trays to eat in your cell. You can't go to your jobs, the Rec Yard or classes. You are led out one by one to shower once every 6 days.

When two inmates are cramped up together 24/7 the chemistry means everything. You need to know when to talk and when to keep silent. Your cellie's little habits can get annoying.

About 4 hours into our first day of Covid lock-down I was on my bunk reading an dogged-eared paperback Old Western Romance novel that was boring me to death - but it killed the time.

Mark was on his top-bunk reading something.

He broke the silence:

"Hey."

"Yeah," I responded.

"You wanna do the 'what would you do' game?

"Yeah, why not. But what is it?"

Mark hopped down on his bed.

"It's a series of questions. Starting off with: if you could be free for 1 hour what would you do?"

"That's easy, man. I would be on a big boat with babes in bikinis and---"

"Nah, no. You can't do that," he interrupted.

"You're being a stick in the mud," I countered.

Mark gave rules of this time killing conversation game: you can't be in paradise living a fantasy. It has to be one hour of doing something or being with someone in your hometown. Something you'd do for real. It can be anything big or small, but it needs to be a real situation in your hometown.

"OK"

"So...what would you do if you had one hour of freedom."

I pondered.

"Grocery store," I responded.

"Grocery store, huh? Now that's ordinary. Explain, Kimo-sabi."

"I've always liked going to the grocery stores. Wandering around. Looking at stuff casually, even though I wasn't going to buy most stuff. It's always cool. Air conditioned. You can take slow strolls."

"Fair enough," sad Mark, giving approval.

Hey, one thing I just remembered today," I added.

"Yeah?"

"Today is September 1, 2020," I noted.

"You can read a calendar. That's good," Mark responded jokingly.

As of today, I have 2 1/2 down. It was 2 and a half years ago today that I was liberated, on March 1, 2018. I was liberated from the negativity of that
other channel and came to TC.

I'm going to change my colors.

[Boots]

Chapter 28 Three Down “Grampa!” Yelled the masked-up guard. A piercing rattle of "Bang-bang-bang-bang" on the iron metal bars of my cell with a baton, jarring me awake in the early morning as I was sleeping in my lower bunk. Mark had left for work at his day shift 2 hours earlier. “Snowflake!” I jumped up quickly still in the grogginess of half-sleep, put on my mask and approached the bars and took it. We were still on Covid lock-down but inmates were allowed to go to work and see Doctors. Masks were mandated to be worn at all times when we left our cells for these activities. The Snowflake read: “Appointment, Dr. Ganel. March 1, 2021 2 PM. It suddenly dawned on me. This day was the three year anniversary of my banning and subsequent life sentence. Every year, to the day, there is an annual psychological evaluation and general interview of inmates. The next day came: March 1, 2021. It had been 3 years since my banishment. Strangely, perhaps not so, I hadn't kept track of dates nor my coming "anniversary." It didn't matter anymore. I was ensconced in my life on the "inside." At 2 PM, I Again did the walk down the corridor, again the wait in the chair outside Dr. Ganel’s office and again, after about 10 minutes of waiting the door opened. Everything....is repetitive here. Everything. “Grampa,” said an unfamiliar male voice. I was a little surprised, as I turned my head up and back from my seated position. “Where is Ganel?” I instantly thought. The men noticed my perplexed look and explained immediately. “Oh, Dr. Ganel is here. I’m just an assistant and will do some administrative processing before your meeting with her.” “OK,” I replied, relaxing my shoulders with a sense of relief. “Please come in and follow me.” We walked down a hallway to a small spartan office at the end of the hall to the left. It was even smaller than my 6 X 9 cell. “Please have a seat.” I did. My name is Michael Spinelli. I’m the new Deputy Assistant Coordinator of Inmate Affairs.” He reached out his hand. I shook it. Another job created here in the prison? For what? I’d been noticing this since I arrived. All these bureaucratic titles. “I’m just confirming that you’re here for your scheduled appointment with Dr. Ganel and I’ll enter in the details on my computer. Give me your inmate number and......[fade out]. He had a stiff white shirt that looked like it'd just been taken out of the box and a stiff card-board-like tie to boot. His dark navy blue trousers looked like one of the brands from Wal-Mart. He looked about 23. Probably a recent Uni grad that could be taken for a kid in high school. 3 minutes later this Mr. Spinelli led me back up the hallway and sat me in front of Ganel’s door. He then left for his closet of an office. The point of this? I shook my head inside my mind. Then Ganel’s door opened and she greeted me with her radiant bright smile. She had the purest white teeth. “Hey, Grampa!” “Hi, Dr. Ganel!” We always have had a solid connection. "This way...." She took her seat behind her desk as I did in front of it. "You're looking good," she said. "Well, I try." "As you know, you're here for your annual review." I nodded. She had my records and annual mug shot photos in front of her. "Dr. Ganell, who's that....uhm....guy.....that I first saw?" Ganell rolled her eyes, "He's the new Deputy Assistant for Inmate Affairs." "Uhm....what does he actually do?" "Well.....between you and me....nothing really.....Now, don't tell anyone, but he's.....the Warden's nephew." I understood. "So....let's get started: In general, how are things with you? It's been 3 years since you came here. Yeah, it was March 1, 2018 when I was banned and sentenced to the Dog House until I get 100 green repo points....We all know that isn't going to happen....but things are good. Seriously....I'm doing well...." "Would you like to expand on that?" "Well, I'm...just living. I've got a good cellie---" "You're still sharing a cell with Mark Rizzo?" "Yes." "And.....?" "We get along well. He's helped me a lot. I've made friends from his circle. I'm doing things to keep me busy....still working at the license plate factory here....and....I'm in a band too." "Oh, yes? A band? "Yeah, I play the Bongo Drums and do some singing as well with 3 other guys. We'll called the 'Croaking Frogs.'" "That's an interesting name," Ganell said with a smile. So....I'd like to ask you a question about your.....sentence....and how your dealing with the your future prospects....." "Sure, you can ask anything you want." "Do you ever think about the length of your sentence?" "Honestly, no. I've come to accept it. I cannot change the way things are in this respect - but I have total control over my mind and attitude." "Grampa, that's a very healthy way to approach things." I nodded. Dr. Ganell, continued: And, another question: if you could post again on that channel, would you?" "I don't know. I've never thought about it. I haven't heard from anyone from that channel. I'm busy doing other things these days. I rarely post anywhere. I've been getting into meditation and I'm trying to de-calcify my Pineal Gland." "I see." "Is there anything else you'd like to tell me?" No, I think we've covered everything, Dr. Ganell." "Okay, then. See you next time." I stood up, "Good to see you Dr. Ganell. See you." "Bye." I walked out feeling like I had a diamond in my pocket.

[Boots]

Chapter 29:

4 Down


The automatic snowflake.

Meeting, 2:30 pm, with Dr. Ganell, Ph.D, Psychologist

I walked down the corridor with my appointment slip.

It was time again for my annual review with the shrink. I didn't understand why this was necessary....it's just another date....the anniversary of my banning, exile, railroading, imprisonment....whatever you want to call it.


But it didn't matter anymore.

I had forgotten what the free world was like....and more importantly...I didn't care.

I reached her door.....it was closed of course....I learned closer to hear any sounds....talking....there was nothing.

I slowly raised my closed fist to knock and gave a light tap 3 times.

"Come in! It's open!" bellowed Dr. Ganell from inside.

I opened the door and stepped in.

"Please sit down," she invited..

We started the routine annual review with the same questions.


45 minutes later......


"It's good that you're doing well in here.....I see in my records of our last yearly review that you.....you said....at our close of the session that you.....said.....

"I feel like I've got a diamond in my pocket......"

"Do you still have the same sentiments?" she asked me.

I nodded, "Yeah, it's still with me....I've still got it."

[Boots]

Chapter 30:

4 1/2 Down

The snowflake, the long corridor, the wait in the chair.


We know the routine.

It was time for me semi-annual review session with Bavasi.

It was 4 1/2 years today that I was sentenced.

I don't know why they continue to have these semi-annual reviews.....I don't even think about dates anymore.

My focus is not on the injustice of the past but the positivity and the potential for the future.

The door opened

"Please come in.:

I followed her to her familiar desk and to my familiar chair.

My file was on her desk already opened, as I'm sure she was perusing it to refresh her memory of inmate 03012018.


Me.


"So, how are things," hitting it off with this open question. It reminded me of that "tell me about yourself" question that starts a job interview.

"Good....very good, actually."

"Anything to tell me why things are going so well?"

"Just....everything, really."

I added, "A person incarcerated here is never supposed to say this out-loud, but....I'm in my comfort zone."

"And what things or circumstances are making you into your comfort zone?"

"It's just...my life in general....this is my universe. This is my world. It's not about the inside world...in here....or so-called Freedom: the outside world....inside here.....this is where my mind and my heart is...."

Bavasi looked content. I could sense the inquisitiveness in her eyes, however. I don't think she was used to hearing this.

Many inmates in these obligatory semi-annual reviews would lament their time behind bars: the tension, the longing for family, the annoyances of living in a small-squar box with a cellmate and the uncertainty of unexpected violence that can strike at any time.

"Well as you know, I'm here to listen. If there's anything you want to tell me....whether good or bad, I'm here."

"I understand, Mrs. Bavasi. And I appreciate it."

She looked me up and down...."you're still growing," she said with a smile and nod.

"Yeah, this is what I do to keep the blood moving," referring to my consistent weight training in Yard.

"Well, I guess that's that, then,"

"I'm sure you have others coming in here today to speak with you....and you probably hear a lot of problems and complaining from other inmates."

"That's what I'm here for....I'm here to help," her eyes opening with a small genuine smile.

I could tell Mrs. Bavasi liked her job and that she actually cared.

[Boots]

Today, March 1, 2023

is 5 years since liberation.

More chapters to come in Life Without!

[Mr Tinkles]

is 5 years since liberation.

So you are out of jail now? Or do you mean you have seen the light and don't go near teakdoor - the forum for dirty old men

[Boots]

So you are out of jail now? Or do you mean you have seen the light and don't go near teakdoor - the forum for dirty old men

I'm out of jail b/c I never go to that toxic-door....and yes it's for dirty old men who have made mistakes in life and are dysfunctional and bitter.

Cheers, Tinkles.