Page 72 of The River Is Waiting

Piccardy says he wants to hear what those poor dogs sounded like asthey were being executed. When Solomon tells him he doesn’t remember, Piccardy pulls out his pepper spray. “Well, you better remember quick or you’re gonna get ‘the turkey treatment.’?” Broken and terrified, Solomon begins to howl. Sickened by what I’m witnessing, I have to stop it no matter what it costs me.

I step out from behind the tree and shout, “Hey!” Solomon and his two tormentors look up and see me. I turn and run.

Almost out of the woods, I spot the dead, mangled turkey. Without knowing why, I grab it, cradle it, and keep running. Reaching the clearing, I look back at the barn. Goolsby’s standing there, staring at me. I turn and run in the opposite direction toward Block B. Is this really happening? Have I gone this far out on a limb? Yes! So fuck Piccardy and his threats! They’re not getting away with this.… And fuck counseling protocol, too. I’m not waiting around for an appointment. She’s going to see menow! I enter the building and head toward Jackson’s first-floor office.

She jumps when I barge in. “Ledbetter?” She looks at the dead hen I’m holding, then up at me. Out of breath and realizing from her face that I’m scaring her, I try to explain but can’t get the words out. Can’t catch my breath.

“Calm down,” she says. But I can’t. My heart is revving. I begin to shake. Hyperventilate. I’m just barely able to squeeze out the words: “Panic… attack.”

“Okay, sit down and take some deep breaths.” I do what she says. Drop the dead bird on the floor beside me. I hear something Dr. Patel once said.Panic attacks aren’t fatal.

When I’m a little calmer, she unscrews her thermos, pours some water into a paper cup, and tells me to drink it. Swilling it, I begin to choke. “Easy,” she says. “Slow down. Sip it slowly.” Wiping away my tears, my left eye begins to sting and I realize I have some of the bird’s pepper residue on my hand. When I tell her why I’m screaming, she pours more water and has me hold the cup to my eye and keep blinking. I follow her instructions until it stops stinging.

When I’m finally able to tell her what happened, she’s measured and professional. “But if he was rushing at him with a weapon, didn’t Officer Piccardy have a right to defend himself?”

“Yeah, but he already had him down on the ground. Why would he start kicking him in his side, kicking in his head, stepping on his neck?”

“Did anyone else witness this?”

“Just Anselmo, but he’s not going to throw his buddy under the bus.”

“What about when they took him into the woods? Can anyone corroborate your account of what they made him do?”

I shake my head. “No one except Solomon.”

Deep sigh. She shakes her head. “Okay, let me explain how the grievance system works. First of all, an offender can’t file a grievance on another offender’s behalf. It would have to be Clapp who made the complaint by submitting an Administrative Remedy form, requesting a formal review of what happened. Then the Administrative Remedy Coordinator for your unit would either let the complaint proceed or dismiss it.”

“So who would this coordinator be? A captain? The unit manager?”

“Not at this stage. It would be another of the custody officers in your building. Typically, that person will side with the officer being grieved, not the complainant. It doesn’t always happen, but that’s the way it usually goes.”

“In other words, the deck is stacked. If it gets dismissed, can he appeal?”

“Yes, but in this case, it’s unlikely to go anywhere. If, as you say, CO Anselmo backs up CO Piccardy’s account, it would be one offender’s claim against two officers.”

“But I’d corroborate what Solomon says, so it would be two against two.”

“And whose version do you think would prevail?”

She has me there, but I’m not ready to give up. “Kicking the kid? Making him bark like a dog? Piccardy’s been pulling all kinds of shit around here and gotten away with it, but this was flagrant. The guy’s a sadist. The problem is, he’s more or less untouchable because of his uncle.”

“Who’s his uncle?” she asks.

“Deputy Warden Zabrowski.”

She winces. Says she didn’t know that.

I get up off my chair and go to pick up the dead bird. “Leave that,” she says. With my hand on the knob, I stop and turn back to her. “Do you believe me? That all this happened?”

“I do, as a matter of fact, just by seeing your condition when you came in here. She tells me to sit back down. Look, it’s a slippery slope when Counseling tries to challenge Custody’s authority. I know a counselor in Enfield who lost his job for daring to do that. Ledbetter, I have a husband out of work and a daughter to support, a mortgage, car payments. So if you’re planning to take this to the mat, I can’t afford to get down there with you. And before you decide to pursue this, think about the possible repercussions for both youandClapp. You’re not in a position to fix this, no matter how justified you’d be for trying. And if Solomon’s just been on the receiving end of an ugly, traumatizing episode, do you want to set him up for more of the same?”

I shake my head. “He’d probably be too scared to blow the whistle on them anyway. And I don’t think that turkey’s going to file one of those Administrative Remedy things either.” Either she doesn’t appreciate my gallows humor or she’s thinking about something.

“That’s actually something youcouldfile a grievance about. I’m not suggesting you do it, but it’s the one thing that’s not about Clapp. Not directly anyway.” I wait. “Inappropriate use of a state-issued weapon against a defenseless animal. But I doubt that would go anywhere either. It would still be your word against theirs.”

“Not if there’s evidence. Do you have a cell phone? Maybe you could take a few pictures that I could use.”

She says the first thing they’d want to know is how yougotthose pictures.

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