Scared Straight part 3

Timmy rubbed his sore shoulder as he sat in a chair across a small table from a man the size of a small battleship.  The man had no hair that Jimmy could see and somehow it made the man look even bigger.  Jimmy tried his staring into the eyes trick, but the man wouldn’t look straight at him.  After what seemed like five minutes of silence, Timmy decided to break the ice.  “So how often do you…”

“Shush,” said the man in a shouted whisper.  The man put a finger less than an inch away from Timmy’s nose and he wagged it back and forth.  “Fresh meat isn’t allowed to talk.”

Timmy sat back to put more room between him and the finger.  “You’ve got to be joking me,” Timmy said.

The man slammed his hand down onto the table, the sound reminding Timmy of a handgun he had once shot.  “I said shush,” the man said in a bit more full voice but still not much above a whisper.  “You need to know your place when you’re inside.”

Timmy was amazed the table hadn’t broken in two.  He smiled at the man and slammed his hand into the table as well.  The sound wasn’t as impressive, but Timmy was impressed nevertheless.

The man balled his huge hands into fists.  “What the hell was that about?” he shouted.

Timmy smiled.  “Why should I let you have all the fun?” Timmy asked.  Timmy stood up and began to walk away.

“Sit down you piece of shit!” yelled the man   “I’m not done with you yet.”

Timmy whipped around, and his voice became a forceful whisper.  “Shush,”

The man stood quickly, way too quickly for a man of that size.  The table went flying to the right and crashed into the wall.  “You.  Do.  Not.  Shush.  Me,” the man said.

“What are you going to do to me?” Timmy asked.  He tried to puff out his chest, making him look as big as he could.

The man marched right up to Timmy, forcing Timmy to bend back to look the man in the face.  Still the man would not meet Jimmy’s eyes. “You don’t want me to start,” the man said.

“You can’t do jack.  If you even touch me they’ll slap you so hard your grandkids will feel it,” Timmy said.

The man chuckled.  “I’m a lifer you little piece of shit,” the man said.  “They can’t slap me anymore.  All I can do is feel some pain.  Sort of like this.”  The man grabbed Timmy’s sore shoulder and squeezed.  The pain almost made Timmy pass out, but he rode the pain and channeled it into laughter.  The laughter earned him more pain, but that just created more laughter.

The man released his grip and Timmy dropped to his knees, the laughter subsiding as the sharp pain receded to a dull throbbing.   “What the hell,” said the man.  He reached down and picked Timmy up off the floor and then kept lifting till Timmy was at almost at eye level. “What is wrong with you kid?”

Timmy finally locked eyes with the guy.  The guy almost recoiled as if he had been head butted.  He dropped Timmy like he was poisonous.  Timmy pointed at the discarded table.  “Pick it up,” Timmy said.

The man squeezed his hands into fists three times while making sure to look anywhere but at Timmy’s eyes.  Finally he moved over to the battered table and picked it up.  He placed it back where it had been and sat back down.  He silently gestured to Timmy’s chair.

Timmy purposely kept his smile repressed as he moved back to his seat.  He quietly gestured for the man to talk.  The man looked at his huge hands, but finally began to speak.  “You really shouldn’t have come here,” the man said.

Timmy rubbed his sore shoulder.  “Tell me about it,” Timmy said.  “That prick Hobbs tried to break my arm.”

The man eagerly looked at Timmy.  “Want me to make sure he regrets it?” the man asked.  “I’ll do it.  He’s on my shit list already.  He was screwing around with someone on my crew.  Not someone who is important so I didn’t do anything, but messing with you…”

Timmy shook his head.  “Not yet Simon,” he said.  Simon looked disappointed.  All the rage seemed to be exhaled in one long sigh.  Timmy looked at Simon with predatory eyes.  “But I am glad they decided to have you be the one to scare me.  You were pretty convincing.“

Simon perked up.  “Thanks.  I try to be.  It keeps most of the other idiots at arm’s length.  The rest of them have some kind of mental problem.  Once I know that they have a bleeding problem.  After that I don’t have any more problems.”

“So what do we do next?” asked Timmy.

“They’re supposed to come get us in a bit, and you’re supposed to be all ready to piss yourself.  After that they will cut you lose with a promise that this is your future if you don’t do something about it,” Simon said.

Timmy noticed as Simon kept talking that he seemed to deflate.  Simon was still a big man, but that emotional rage somehow made Simon appear bigger.  That was something Timmy would need to remember.  It was a cool trick.  “So what do you think I should do?” asked Timmy.

Simon smiled a very chilling smile.  “That’s up to you, boss.  What are you going to do?” he asked.

Timmy liked the way Simon was smiling.  He joined him in that cold grin.  “I think I’m going to do something different alright.”

Simon’s grin faltered for just a moment before being pasted back on, and Timmy didn’t blame Simon one bit.

Scared Straight Part 2

Timmy looked around the hole and shivered, not from being scared, but from the cold.  He picked up the threadbare blanket that was one to two soft objects in this place of steel and concrete and wrapped it around his shoulders.  He began pacing his cell.  Four strides in length, three strides in width, it had a small flat barred window about ten feet up, right by the ceiling letting in a tiny bit of sunlight to supplement the flickering fluorescent centered on the ceiling.

The bed, sink, and toilet were all made of concrete.  The only other source of comfort beside the blanket was the small thin mattress on the bed.  Jimmy sat down on it and laughed.  It was almost as hard as the concrete below it.  The one door had a small slot at the bottom and a larger slot at the top that could be moved by the guard.  Right now both were closed off.

Timmy began to sing at the top of his lungs all the children’s nursery rhymes he could think of.  The place had great acoustics.  After about a half hour of that, Timmy began jogging in circles.  It helped him get a bit warmer.  He tied the blanket around his neck so it fluttered behind him like a superhero.  That only lasted for a few minutes till Timmy got bored with that.  He sat down on the bed in a lotus position and meditated.

After an indeterminate amount of time a different guard pulled back the top slider.  He saw Timmy not moving, his back against the wall with the blanket tied around his neck and panicked.  He hit the button on the outside of the cell which set off flashing lights and a klaxon.  The guard opened the door and was two feet in before Timmy snapped out of his meditative state.  The guard grabbed Timmy by his arm and yanked him off the bed.  Timmy immediately began to collapse to the ground, his legs giving out on him because of the amount of time spent in the lotus position.  Two more guards pushed their way into the cell.  The guard holding Timmy’s arm yelled,” Tony, grab his other arm, Luke get that sheet off his neck.”

The two guards were efficient, snapping to accomplish their assigned tasks immediately.  Soon Timmy was hanging in air, his feet a couple of inches off the ground, and his cape now tossed back onto the bed from whence Timmy had taken it from.

“What is wrong with you?” asked the guard that had originally grabbed Timmy.  “Trying suicide after only an hour or two in the hole?”

“Chill Hobbs,” said Luke.  “The kid didn’t have the blanket that tight.”

“Suicide?” asked Timmy.  “That was my superhero cape.”

Tony began to laugh.  Hobbs wasn’t too happy about that.  “What the hell Tony.  It’s not funny,” Hobbs said.

Luke began to laugh as well.  “Come on man, that shit is funny,” he said.

Hobbs looked like he was about to punch both his fellow guards out.  Timmy decided he wanted the focus back on him.  “Guys, I like it when my feet can touch the ground,” Timmy said.

Tony let him down, but Hobbs kept his other arm hitched up, keeping Timmy off balance.  “Smart ass kid, I don’t like being punked. You know what that earns you?”

Timmy looked hard into Hobbs’ eyes, reading him.  “Normally it would mean you drop in one of your pets to pay me back, but we both know you can’t do that because the Warden would put your balls in a vice.”

Hobbs lifted even higher on Timmy, wrenching Timmy’s shoulder before letting go.  Luckily for Timmy, Tony was still holding onto him, so Timmy didn’t fall down.  Hobbs looked at Tony and Luke.  “Get that piece of shit back upstairs so he can meet the ladies. “  With that Hobbs turned and began to walk away.

Timmy laughed.  “Make sure you let your mom know I’ll be stopping by and paying her a visit,” Timmy said.

Hobbs turned around and threw a haymaker punch, only to be stopped by Luke.  “Let me go,” said Hobbs through pursed lips.

Luke shook his head.  “The kid isn’t worth it,” Luke said.  “We’ve got him boss.  Go walk it off.”

Hobbs glared at Timmy.  “Hobbs, don’t worry.  You’ll get your chance with me.  I promise,” Timmy said.  Hobbs left the cell without a second glance back.

Tony shoved Timmy towards the door.  “Let’s go.  You’ve got a date,” said Tony.  Timmy rubbed his sore shoulder, but for once decided to be quiet.  Besides, it was almost show time.

Scared Straight part 1

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.