Timmy kept playing his parent’s conversation over and over in his head as the heavy door rolled to a close and the lock hammered home.
“We are doing this for your own good,” his dad said.
“It will help you understand,” his mom said.
Timmy agreed with his parents. This was probably for the best. He was surprised that they had figured it out though. They did seem kind of oblivious about this whole parenting thing. Still, at least he was here now.
The guard frisked the kid in front of him, and then waved Timmy forward. He held his hands up and was scanned and then frisked quickly and professionally. “Move along,” the guard said. Timmy nodded his head, a smile blooming on his face. The Guard noticed. “Wipe that smile off your face or else the prisoners will do it for you.”
Timmy nodded his head in acknowledgment. “That might be your fear, but don’t worry about me,” Timmy said as he moved past the guard, leaving the guard dumbfounded.
Timmy looked around himself, thinking about the amount of concrete and iron that separated him from the air outside. He relaxed a bit more and felt the tension leaving his back. He almost ran into the kid in front of him because the kid had stopped.
“This program is to allow you to see your future, if you continue down the path you are currently on,” said a balding white guy who had at least three doughnuts too many every day for the past ten years. His suit had seen better days, but it looked like it had been locked up here for committing fashion murder and was doing twenty five to life. That made Timmy giggle.
The man noticed Jimmy’s giggle and walked right up to him, invading Jimmy’s personal space. “Is something here funny, son? I don’t recall making a joke,” the man said. His breath was a mixture of stale Egg McMuffin and Jack Daniels, the breakfast of champions.
“Drinking before eight in the morning Charles? Do you figure it’s a good substitute for corn flakes?” asked Timmy.
“Ah, you must be Mister Livingston. I was warned about you,” said the man. “You will refer to me as Warden Holston or else you will have the hole be the first place you visit.”
Timmy looked Warden Holston in the eyes. “Well that’s the only hole you get to visit lately, isn’t it Charley?” Timmy said.
Warden Holston looked like he was about to hit Timmy, but then thought better of it. “Dean,” he said, “show this young man the hole. We will see how he likes our time out.”
Timmy laughed and began to walk out of the office before Dean could even move. “See you in a couple of hours Chuckles. I’ve got a lot more for you,” Timmy said.
Dean caught up to Timmy in the hallway and tried to grab Timmy’s arm, but Timmy pulled it away. “Hands off the merchandise,” said Timmy. “You shop lift enough around here, don’t you Dean. Does your wife know you fondle the goods at work?”
Dean stopped dead in his tracks. “You want to get fucked up kid?” he asked. “I can arrange that. I don’t give a shit about getting in trouble.”
Timmy turned around and walked backward, keeping his gaze on Dean. “Don’t lie to me Dean,” Timmy said. “You give lots of shit about getting in trouble. Right now you’re trying to figure out how to do anything without getting your ass handed to you by Chuckles back there, and you’re too dumb to figure it out. Just show me to the hole and go back to playing with your jewels.”
Dean made a fist and lifted it before dropping it back to his side. “You’re lucky I’m not allowed to hit girls,” Dean said. He walked past Timmy and turned left at the next hallway.
Timmy stayed just a step behind Dean. “Nope, you don’t hit girls. Too bad though. Your wife might enjoy it.” Dean kept walking, not acknowledging Timmy’s comment. Timmy’s smile grew larger. Definitely this was where he belonged.