“Those who escape hell never talk about it and nothing much bothers them after that.”

— Henry Bukowski

Several times I’ve been asked about the danger of being in prison. That depends. Mostly, it depends upon what you are in for. Murderers get respect. Con artists are tolerated. Drug dealers are a dime a dozen and are left alone. But, rapists and pedophiles are treated badly, especially in a Max. For them, it’s open season.

Even if you’re innocent.

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I found Blue to be in a talkative mood. He was in his late twenties, muscular, about 5’9” and weighing in at about 200. 

He’d made adjustments in ASAT, the drug treatment program, where they now were more interested in others who’d been aggravating the smooth operation of the program. He was no longer in their sights.

“Maybe it’s because I’m not feeling that good, but they ARE leaving me alone,” said Blue.

“What’s the matter?”

“Ahh,” he said, shaking his head, “I think I popped a vessel.” 

“WHAT?”

“Well, you know when you hear something pop? You know, like in your arm?”

“No,” I said. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Yeah, I’ve popped vessels before. From exercising.” 

“Where is the vessel that popped?”

“Back of my head, right here,” he said and turned to push up the hair just above his neck.

“You see a doctor?”

“Nah,” he said, “I’ve had this before. But, this time I have spots in front of my eyes. Maybe I should.”

“What did you do?”

“Just doin’ the leg machine. You know, you sit down and push weights up at an angle?”

“How much were you pushing?” 

“Oh, about 800 pounds.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “I guess I was pushin’ it.” 

“That’s a possibility.” 

“How long have you got left?” I asked.

“I don’t know.” 

“But, you’re out of here soon, right?” I asked.

“Yeah, I only got a few months left. But, I’ve been in this time for almost two years. My last time was worse. Was in a Max.”

“I’ve heard that guys like the ones in our house don’t do well, for, you know, sex charges.”

“You kidding? I was at Green, Coxsackie and Elmira. They don’t fuck around there. Twice, the COs gave me the green light. Guy was in for makin’ kiddy porn movies. CO sent me out to the Yard and told me to fuck ‘im up. I said, ‘If I get out there the other CO is gonna’ hit me with a Tier 3 ticket,’ an’ he says, ‘No, don’t worry I got you covered’ so I go out and beat the shit outta this guy and they did nothin’.”

“Is it still that bad?’

“Are you fucking kiddin’ me? There’s nothin’s changed for pedophiles, rapists, kiddy porn guys. An’ they beat them, an’ leave ’em. One guy who was in for kiddy porn was facing 25 to Life. He finally took a pencil and stabbed himself in the neck and bled to death right in fronna me. Took about 4 minutes. Fucking blood all over the floor. He just couldn’t face it, being beaten all the time. You a rapo or kiddy porn guy in a Max, you’re done.”

“No shit? What about gays?”

“Gays? Forget it. They’re protected now. But, dey sell ‘em inna Maxes.”

“Sell them?”

“Yeah, one time I walked into the shower at Elmira and here’s this huge black guy gettin’ a blow-job from some white guy on his knees, an’ the white guy had tits an’ everything — y’know they let ‘em have operations an’ all — an’ the black says to me ‘you gotta’ problem?’”

“‘Nope,’ I sez.”

“No shit?”

He laughed. “No shit. But, the black guy had just bought the white guy.”

“Bought him?”

“Yeah, couple a packs of cigarettes to the pimp who owns him – gets you a blowjob from the tranny-whore. The COs know. Sometimes they run the trannies them­selves. S’a fuckin’ cesspool.”

“You in a Max long?

“I was in the Box at Greene for a while.” 

“That’s where I saw the worst treatment.” 

“I was told to fuck up a pedophile there — went up behind him and hit him a few times with a lock in a sock. Nearly killed him. But, they didn’t care. The accident report said that he fell in the bathroom and hit his head. You can’t win in this system. If I went into the bathroom and a CO was in there, if he wanted to fuck me up, all he’d have to do is say that I attacked him and I’d catch a new charge. It’s my word against his and he’d ALWAYS win.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. An’ I saw a couple of guys hang ‘emselves. One guy did it with sheets. I watched him tying the sheets together and I said to my cellmate, ‘what the fuck’s he doin?’ and he says to me ‘min’ your own goddamn business — he gonna’ take hisself out’ — and that’s what he did. By the time the cop saw him and cut ‘im down he was gone.”

Blue got up and climbed up a couple of steps on the bleachers we were sitting on to grab his sweatshirt and then came down — but slipped on the bottom level where we were sitting.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said, “I just slipped. Got a little dizzy for a minute, I’m okay, though.”

“You really need to see a doctor, Blue. Don’t fuck around with a blood vessel in your head. Come on man!”

As we were leaving the Gym on the walkway, Blue brought up the subject of pedophiles again and said “you know, if one of those guys went near my kids…”

“Yeah,” I said, “I hear you.”

“One a those guys like Irish, in your house…” 

“Irish?”

“Yeah,” he said, “you know, ponytail, a few teeth missing, he’s a rapo.”

“He said he was in for beating the shit out of some guy who stole a car from his brother.”

“Nah, he in fa rape. Raped a 13 year old girl. He a fuckin’ animal.”

“No shit?”

“Oh, yeah, I was in your dorm. He a fuckin’ sex criminal.” 

“Huh.”

“Yeah, fucking guy like that came near my kids, I’d kill’im an’ not a thought about it. Tolally jusified.” 

“I’d do 20 years for dat and never think twice.”

I thought about this macho routine. He’d heard it all before. They’d do this, they’d do that.

“But, Blue, tell me something. You got a few kids, right?” 

“Yeah?” he looked at quizzically.

“So, you kill some guy who raped your kid. What happens to your other kids? Now they don’t have a father. What about that?”

No answer.

“Know any Italians?” he said.

Copyright 2024. The Gulag