Page 58 of The River Is Waiting

Solomon’s afternoon productivity is even less than it was in the morning, but we manage to get the leaves bagged without any major problems. I remind myself that he’s probably never had to do much physical work before and that I need to bring him along gradually. Confronting him like a foreman is not the way to go with this kid.

Just before quitting time, a dozen or so wild turkeys strut across the lawn, pecking away at grass and bugs. I give them a quick look, but Solomon stops and stares at them. I watch him watching. He’s mostly focused on a mother hen and the four chicks who hurry behind her. What’s going on in his brain right now? Does he think they’re cute? Is he fantasizing about shooting them? Remembering his birth mother? It’s impossible to know what’s in that screwed-up head of his.

When the whistle blows, we drag our bagged leaves back to the barn, hand in our rakes, and start walking back to our buildings. I’m walking a little ahead of Solomon when he says, “Hey, wait up.” I stop and he catches up. I ask him what he wants. “There’s a library here, right?” I nod. “Where’s it at? And don’t try and bullshit me either.”

“Main building, top floor. Why would I bullshit you?”

He says none of the guys on the other tier would give him a straight answer. “?‘It’s in the building behind the chow hall,’ they’d tell me. Or, ‘It’s in the basement of C Block.’ But C Block doesn’thavea basement and the only thing behind the chow hall is that brick thing where they burn garbage. When I got a pass and went looking for it out there, some lady CO yelled at me for not being where I was supposed to be. I tried to tellher that was where they said it was, but the bitch told me I was lying and gave me a ticket.”

“Were you raising your voice when you tried to explain?”

“No.” His bottom lip pokes out and his eyes go glassy. “Maybe.”

“Look, I saw the way you lost it that time in the visiting room. You’ve got to get ahold of your temper. People shut down when you start yelling. And as for those clowns giving you bogus directions, they were just screwing with you because you’re new. It’s boring as hell around here and some guys will grab at anything to entertain themselves. And the more you show them they’re getting to you, the worse they’ll treat you.” Despite what he’s in here for, I feel bad for the kid. Still, I need to hold the line at being his work buddy.

“My new cellmate says there’s a form where I can file a complaint against those guys for harassing me. Do you think I should report them?”

“For giving you bullshit directions?” I shake my head. “Choose your battles.”

“But they did other stuff, too,” he says. “Pissed on me in the shower. One guy stuck his hand in my mouth and tried to yank my braces off. And look at this.” He lifts the back of his shirt to show me a purple bruise at the base of his spine. “I was out in the yard, minding my own business, and six or seven of those assholes put me in the middle of a circle and started shoving me back and forth. And the guard just stood there, not doing anything. Then I got kicked in the back and fell down. And now my fuckin’ jaw clicks when I chew.” He’s in tears now. “And I didn’t even do anything to deserve it.”

You killed six defenseless dogs, is what I’m thinking. A lot of the guys in here have brutalized or killed their victims, but I’m willing to bet that even those guys have a sentimental attachment to their dogs.

“Well, you can write them up for assault, sure. You’ve got grounds. But if a captain or a deputy warden investigates your complaint, the first thing they’ll do is go to the CO who was on duty when the incident happened. And he’ll probably deny it or downplay it. Maybe now that you’reon our tier, you should let it go. Daugherty’s your bunkie, right? What does he say?”

“That I should sue the state for not protecting me. He knows a lot about prison law and can represent me. File court papers and shit, and he says my stepmother can pay him his fee by putting money in his commissary.”

Manny gave me the scoop on Daugherty. His parents are in real estate, his sister’s a corporate lawyer, and he’s the family embarrassment. Got kicked out of UConn Law for dealing fentanyl, then got caught trying to bribe a witness who was going to testify against him. Around here, he comes off as the righteous defender of the wrongfully convicted, and since half the guys in here claim they’re innocent, he’s got a following. The families of whoever he’s advising pay him by contributing to his account.

“Be careful about taking legal advice from Daugherty,” I warn the kid.

“Why? He’s a lawyer.”

“He’s not a lawyer. Went to law school but never finished. You know what a ‘fish’ is in here?” He shakes his head. “A new arrival who gets taken by a con man.” The kid looks confused, but I need to end this conversation before I get sucked any further into the black hole of his neediness. “Don’t quote me, but my guess is that Daugherty’s more interested in getting your mom to feed his commissary account than he is in seeing you get justice.”

“She’snotmy mother!” he protests.

Okay, whatever. I’m not getting into that with the kid. I tell him I’ll see him on the crew tomorrow and start to walk away. But there must be a disconnect between my brain and my big mouth, because I look back and hear myself saying, “Tell you what. Our tier can get passes to the library every other Saturday from one to three. We can’t go this coming Saturday, but if we both request passes fornextSaturday, I’ll walk you over there. Okay?”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“You’re a reader, huh? What kind of books do you like?”

“Fantasy and sci-fi, mostly. My favorite authors are Frank Herbert and George R. R. Martin. Did you ever readGame of Thrones?”

“Can’t say that I have.”

“What aboutA Dance with Dragons?”

“Nope. Didn’t Frank Herbert writeDune? I read that one once.”

“Everyone’s read that one,” he says. “I’ve read all the books in the Magnificent Dune Chronicles exceptHeretics of Dune. Do they have that in the library here?”

“Couldn’t tell you. Hey, you were a few minutes late for work this morning. Try to get there the same time as everyone else. Because you don’t want the other guys thinking you get special treatment. Okay?”

He doesn’t answer.

The next day, we’re raking again, but Solomon doesn’t show up for work, on time or late. When I ask Lieutenant Cavagnero about it, he says Solomon told him he couldn’t work because he’s got bad blisters from the day before.

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