Ninety days later, I'm in a court room. I’m wearing an orange jumpsuit, hands cuffed behind my back. I stand before a judge giving my testimony.
The jury and onlookers in the courtroom gasp audibly.
Brickner is sitting in the audience. He gives me a grin and a nod in support.
“…I stole a car outside of a hockey arena and left it in a ditch on the third concession after I crashed it. I falsely collected money, claiming to represent a children’s charity on several occasions, I stole hotdogs from Sonny’s food cart,” I confessed. “I plead guilty in these crimes your Honor, because I am guilty. My actions were selfish and immature and cost people a lot of heartache, not to mention lives. I am not asking for any leniency or favors from the court. I intend to serve the full amount of time as you see fit.”
Brickner comes to visit me later. He's escorted to the holding cell that I'll occupy until I'm loaded on a bus and relocated to my permanent cell.
“You did a stand-up thing kid. That means something,” he says. “You’re going to be taken in and processed. You’re going to live in a cell. You’ll be allowed time to exercise twice a day. I have some friends inside I know I can trust. They’ll look the other way if you do what you have to do to defend yourself. Especially once word gets out that you crossed Del Sarto. You keep your nose clean and head low…and with good behavior and the fact that you helped bust a crime family, you’ll only serve a couple years. It’s only a matter of days before your old man is freed. He’ll be waiting for you when you get out.”
The first time that I walk out into the exercise yard with the other prisoners, one of them tries sneaking up behind me, grabbing my collar and throwing me against a wall. I belt him with a right fist in the gut, causing him to double over. I look up at the guard on duty. True to Brickner’s word, the guard looks at me, nods and then turns away. The rest of the inmates are too confused to help their friend. I kick the shit out of him until he stops groaning.
A few months into my sentence, Brickner reaches retirement. He goes stir crazy with no beat to work, so he soon joins the ranks of the prison guards. Something to help fill his days. It also lets him keep a direct eye out for me and gain allies on the staff.
Having the guards look the other way comes in real handy when I have to cripple a man for trying to sneak up on me in the food line and attack me with a sharpened tray edge. I press my foot into the side of his knee hard, causing him to scream out in agony when it folds sideways.
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish