Page 11 of Freshman

Henry was surprisingly fast coming down the stairs compared to going up them. He kept close to Alfie the whole way back to the lobby and only spoke in the office out of the earshot of the prisoners. “You handled yourself well. Thought I’d get up there and you’d be a fish laid out to dry.”

Alfie scratched the back of his head. “Why was he out of his cell anyway?”

“He has a skype call with his Nana Doris once a month. She’s in Australia, so the timing can be erratic. Did Ryan not tell you?”

“No, he didn’t.”

“And have you still not read Nate’s file?”

Alfie shook his head. “I haven’t got around to it.”

“Well, you should. Not only does it tell you what he did, but it says about family and visitors too. The only family he’s got is his Nana Doris, who barely remembers her own name and is toeing the sweet line of death, and his sister, who thinks he’s evil like we all do.”

“She doesn’t visit him?”

“No. He’s been here five years and no letters, no visits, no phone calls, just a once-a-month conversation with his dear old Doris over skype. She doesn’t remember who he is, Alzheimer’s you see. She deteriorated quickly. Can’t move, see and barely talk. But don’t start feeling sorry for him. He doesn’t deserve a molecule of sympathy.”

Henry settled into his chair and slid his glasses over his eyes. There was no clearer gesture for ‘don’t talk to me’.

Alfie sighed and turned back to the computer. Nate’s face flashed on screen, and he quickly closed the file.

Roll call arrived, and Alfie refused to walk the top corridor.

Marie rubbed his shoulder in sympathy, and it took all his determination not to shrug the hand away.

Glen moved sheepishly up the stairs, darting worried looks back at Marie.

Alfie rolled his eyes and went along the bottom cells, ticking off names. He glanced up to catch Glen at the farthest end, outside of Nate’s cell. The door thumped, and Glen jumped back in fright.

Then every cell began drumming in unison. The sound reverberated deep in Alfie’s chest, and he looked to Marie who was backing away from the cells fast.

It sounded like the boom of a bomb, over and over. The concrete floor even tremored with the war drums. The twins inside G-wing moved into the communal lobby and gestured for Alfie and Marie to get over to their side of the gate. Glen bounded down the stairs, and the three of them rushed into the lobby, securing the gate behind them.

The thump woke Henry from his slumber, and he stumbled out of the office. “What the hell is that?”

Glen lifted his hand, and with a shaking finger, he pointed to the top floor. “I asked for his name. He gave it, then he started hitting the door. They all joined in.”

“Who?” Henry grumbled.

“Nate, Nate Mathews.”

Henry shook his head, then rubbed his thumb on his temple. “Well, we won’t get anything done with this racket.”

By ‘anything done’, Alfie could only assume Henry meant sleep. Henry dusted his hands together, then unlocked the gate. The rest of them watched for an agonising ten minutes as Henry wheezed and spluttered up the stairs. The boom didn’t stop; it continued. A strike, followed by a two-second silence, then another strike. If nothing else, they were consistent.

The door drumming didn’t stop, and Henry returned twenty minutes later, shaking his head and muttering under his breath.

“Bunch of hooligans, told them breakfast will be delayed if they carry on like this, and they continued to drum. If they’re not going to stop for food, they're not going to stop.”

Glen ran his hands into his hair with a whine. “The boss will be angry if we can’t get them under control.”

Henry craned his neck back. “They are under control. They’re just being a nuisance.”

Marie turned to the twins and lifted her shoulders. “Why are they doing that?”

They glanced at each other, then the one Alfie thought was Dan stepped forward. “Something or someone’s pissed them off.”

Henry nodded, then wagged his finger at Glen. “What did you say to Nate? He started this.”

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