Chapter fifty four
While Jeffery was making great use of his time in prison, Noah chose to go underwater," said Howard, rolling his eyes. Well, I was flattered someone missed me that much.
"You really switched modes because of me?" Smiling cheekily at my brother, I crossed my arms and leaned back.
For the first time today, Noah laughed. "What was I supposed to do with my baby brother in jail?"
"Many other useful things," Jade offered, shrugging and pulling a forced smile. By now, I believed every soul present must have adapted to her jumpiness.
"I agree," said Howard shockingly. "However, I believed back then, he was going through a phase of loss, which o could relate to. A week later, he became nearly obsessed with tactical planning on how to get Jeffery out of there."
My stare fell on Noah once more and my smile faded. What had I done to deserve him? "And what luck were you having with that?"
"Minimal," he admitted with nonchalance. Pausing, he spent a moment thinking back to the past as his lips got between his teeth. "Just that…imagining what you were going through in there; crappy food, disgusting rooms and even more disgusting inmates, I wondered if it were possible to get released from a life sentence."
"Yeah actually," Jade added. "It is possible."
An uncertain silence reigned for about a minute, possibly because no one had anything to say then.
In the meantime, I tried remembering what happened back then in jail after my first day; a couple of things I had to get used to.
Food that reminded me of a cat's snack, mandatory morning labour, rehabilitations, roommates that spoilt your mood and some other prison stuff.
Alan must have told somebody who told people about his experience with me; because in a week, half the entire prison hated me. Half of the other half were on the verge of doing so.
I couldn't blame them for it, could I? They must have viewed me as the spoilt brat who still got favour in jail and vowed to teach me some manners.
I did not learn those in sixteen years and I was supposed to magically do that now?
Anyways, my free time was directed to ignoring Alan, going through Joey's book, looking out the small barred window into the sky and of course, exercise.
I own a gym, why not? Even though it was limited to pull ups using a pole fixed horizontally across the room, it was something.
While my brother here had been assuming I'd been treated like crap, the running weeks in jail were not so terrible. Scratch that…just the first few weeks.
"I did not see what was coming with all those enemies I'd made," I shrugged and said. "But, it did come anyway."
***
1 month, 3 weeks, 2 days;
Time was crawling like a ladybug and I still had at least fifty years to live in here; if Alan wasn't going to kill me first. I made a tally stroke for each passing day right on the wall by my pillow. What I was trying to achieve, I wasn't sure.
When I was bored, I took a while studying the handwritten names carved into the smooth, dark wall, all belonging to past prisoners. Then, the question hit me. What happened to them? Usually though, my head ended up forming too horrific images that made me shut the thought off.
Time wasn't the only thing crawling though. The queue was.
It was funny how one had to stand for about half an hour in line for a plate of fudge. Only the heavens knew how I survived this long on that.
Finally though, I stretched out my plate. Seconds later, my arms weighed down mildly when "breakfast" was dumped on my dish by the smug faced man who seemed to have been doing it all his life and was by now tired but helpless.
A nod was all I gave in return right before my stare landed upon my plate.
You could call it a prison cafeteria. Rows upon rows of benches occupied most of the enormous space before me. But, within all that furniture were noisy inmates; not less than half a thousand of men in orange uniforms either chunking on their food or just pooling together and searching for a prey for the day.
Slowly, I traded along, quite unsure of where exactly to sit that wasn't going to attract recognizable attention.
Eyes fell on me as quickly as they left; hateful, threatening but careful glares due to the approach of several police guards.
Biting down a smirk, I settled for an empty bench across from an inmate I'm sure I'd never seen before. He appeared peaceful enough, certainly under the group of preys; and by God, he looked nothing like a criminal.
For no other reason but curiousness, I lowered myself into the seat with my hands surrendering my dish on the table. At that moment, he stiffened with shock.
Soon, I was leaning over with an awkward smile. It was going to be my first attempt at curtailing pride, making friends. Besides, how could I survive here all my life without one?
He forced his attention to remain on his food, coyly playing with the spoon he had his fingers wrapped about.
From the corner of my eye, I caught some prisoners approach us; not any kind though. Trouble came with a unique aura, and that was what I felt now.
I think the man across me felt it too.
Proper scrutiny though made me understand he was the target.
The largest among the crew of prisoners, a hefty African-american who went by the popular name, Butcher -for obvious reasons - sent a smack across his head and grinned foolishly.
I felt a strange bowl of rage begin to boil within me.
However, all I did was lower the spoon which was halfway up my mouth and stare.
The rest of them who lingered behind him like flies on a corpse were only there to look out for approaching police guards. If I existed, none of them gave off any sign of it.
Well then; I was offended.
Butcher squeezed the younger man's shoulder, leaning over with an even larger dose of the evil grin.
"Jayden," he more or less scoffed out his name. "You're not gonna eat that, are ya?"
Shivering Jayden remained quiet and still, quite admirably. I'd have dipped Butcher's head into the steaming dish of food a while ago. There were a few things I needed to learn.
When he wasn't given a reply, quite expectedly, Butcher stretched out a hand and seized the barely eaten meal Jayden had been chewing on.
I think this was the period I had to come in.
"I think you might want to drop that," I mumbled suddenly. I half expected a bullet to my head now. When that didn't happen, I raised my eyes to meet his. Good thing I was a star in my boxing days; somebody might do a good punching bag today.
Jayden glowered at me in a way that had a repulsive edge to it; the look someone might give you that meant he did not need your help. To that, my brows cocked in confusion.
"Who do you think you…" came Butcher right before we sighted Cyrus striding across from the opposite column of benches.
At the sight, the hefty African-american twitched his nose merely for reasons of confusion and trailed off mid sentence. Sparing both Jayden and I a last pair of glances, he gaggled and released the contents of his mouth into the latter's plate of breakfast.
I had to shut my eyes to avoid using my already clenched fist.
A moment later, Butcher leaned out, lingered behind a little while longer right before he began his exit.
Just like they came, the others followed suit like flies on a corpse.
An uncomfortable silence followed with both of us staring vainly into our bowls of food; mine untouched and his with a flavour of saliva.
The tension in the air begged for easing. In a bid to play my part, I shoved my food forward to him, crossed my arms and leaned back.
From the energy he offered, I wouldn't be surprised even if he got up and walked away anytime now. However, he did sigh and pull the plate closer to himself. "He's my brother."