“Alright, Dirty. You look me up you need anything.” He smiled and held out his fist to be bumped again but Poe knew he’d just been insulted, he went back to his eggs. The whites at the other end of the table looked at Poe as if they expected him to respond and the man looked back as he walked away but Poe didn’t say anything. He began to shovel the food into his mouth, he was getting a feeling, he began to eat as quickly as he could. Everyone smirked and went back to whatever they were doing, and Poe knew that what had happened was very bad, he had just been marked, quick as that.
Another black man came up, crossed the invisible barrier, he was tall and very thick with a scar across his nose and forehead like a pink caterpillar, tattoos all over his arms though Poe could not make them out against his dark skin.
“ ’Sup, Dirty.”
Poe didn’t say anything. There were still no guards in the room. More people were beginning to pay attention.
“Yo, Dirty, gimme one of them sausages.”
Poe moved the tray so the newcomer couldn’t reach it.
“Why thank you,” said the man.
He stood up and reached for Poe’s food tray but Poe slid it farther away. Then he put his face in Poe’s and laughed loud so his spit went all over Poe’s skin.
“You got a problem, Wood? Don’t want no niggas touchin your food?”
He was talking in a voice so the other side of the room could hear him, the din was quieting down some.
“I got no problem,” said Poe.
It was definitely much quieter, the atmosphere in the room had changed, he was the center of attention. He would have to do something. He was not feeling strong.
“I hope you came up to join your homies in here, baby.”
Poe stared at his plate.
“Oh you don’t know no one, huh? Not a single motherfuckin soul up in this place?”
Poe knew he should hit him but there was a definite racial feeling, the other blacks would jump him, there was no question about it. But he had no choice. He didn’t want to fight, he could feel how scared he was, he had never wanted to fight less in his entire life.
“You know I’ll take care of you,” the man was saying, he softly stroked Poe’s arm and the other side of the room erupted in laughter, even some of the whites were laughing and grinning, the man looked toward his friends to bask in his glory and Poe grabbed him in a headlock and rolled them both to the floor, rolled them so the back of the man’s head hit the cement with the weight of their two bodies behind it.
The man was limp long enough for Poe to lock an arm around him and start punching him with his free hand, he didn’t know how many times he hit him, he wasn’t getting good leverage but it was enough, people were shouting a general encouragement, not for Poe but for the fight itself, he was leaning back and bending the man’s head back with him, the man was punching awkwardly at Poe’s face but it was too late, he had a very strong grip. He had a feeling he could break the neck if he wanted, he smelled sweat and hair oil, he was warm and he felt his strength coming back, the man was completely limp, maybe he’d been limp for a long time, and then someone kicked Poe in the ribs.
It was one of the white guys.
“Get up,” he said.
Poe stood up. There was a crowd of men standing around, black and white only there were more of the black. He thought he’d get rushed but that wasn’t their purpose.
“Fair fight,” one of the white shotcallers was saying.
“Fuck that sucker- punch- ass bullshit,” someone from the black side said. Poe started to get the shakes. It was just from adrenaline and he put his hands in his pockets so no one would see. There was a long awkward moment standing there. All of the white men in that area of the cafeteria were on their feet and finally one of the shotcallers seemed to make a decision, he nodded his head slightly in Poe’s direction and Poe knew he was supposed to follow him. He felt the relief washing over him, it was like a bucket of warm water pouring down him. About a half dozen of the whites, the ones in charge, were headed toward the exit and he fell in step behind them. Then they were heading down the broad corridor between the cellblocks, they went to the end and turned, there was a metal detector ahead of them and metal doors, the men he was following gave a hand signal to some guards behind a Plexiglas window and the doors popped and they were all suddenly outside, in the rec yard in the bright sunshine, and he heard the doors slam shut behind them.
It was warm outside, the sky was very blue and his eyes hurt. There was dirt under his feet. He continued to follow the tall skinhead until they were near the weight pile. The others from the table had followed them. It was very bright and his eyes were still adjusting, through the fences he could see the greenness of the Valley rolling away from him and, in the distance, not quite the river itself but the far bank of it rising up.
They stopped when they reached the weight pile.
“For a second we thought you were gonna get turned out,” said one of them, the one with the shaved head and broad open face, he winked at Poe, the first friendly gesture Poe had felt in days.
The man with the blond pompadour, the leader, added: “You sure took your fuckin time thinking about it.”
The others laughed and Poe wasn’t sure what to do.
“You’ll be alright,” said the blond one. “You got it taken care of.” He grinned. “I’m Larry,” he said, “known also as Black Larry. Call me Black Larry, Larry, I don’t give a fuck, really.”
The other two introduced themselves. Dwayne, the friendly- looking one with the shaved head, and Clovis, who had the hat pulled down over his eyes. Clovis was substantially wider than Poe, he probably weighed three hundred pounds.
Poe looked back to see if they were being followed. The doors to the main building were still closed and there was no one else in the rec yard.
“Do those guys back there run the place?” Poe said.
“Clovis,” said Black Larry, “did our young friend just ask if our black brethren ran this place?”
Clovis made an imperceptible adjustment to his watch cap and said, “Believe he did.”
Black Larry sighed loudly.
“In the first place,” said Clovis, “do you see those little punks anymore, or are they still locked in behind that fuckin door there? In the second place, don’t ask any more stupid fuckin fish questions.”
“Sorry,” said Poe. “I just got here.”
“We fuckin know that,” said Clovis.
“I haven’t even had my trial yet.”
“Listen to this guy,” said Clovis.
“That isn’t something you want to go around telling people,” said Dwayne. “Other than us.”
“Sorry,” Poe said again. He felt like he was screwing up, he was not sure what he should say. He would be quiet.
“It’s fine,” Black Larry said. “You’re among friends.”
“But you need to buck the hell up,” said Clovis. “Everyone’s gonna be heart- checkin you until you get rid of that mopey- dope fuckin face. It doesn’t matter how you fight if you walk around looking like a goddamn clown.”
The other two nodded.
“Alright,” said Poe. “I hear you.”
“He hears us,” said Clovis.
“He does,” said Poe. “Loud and clear.” He grinned and the others smiled, except for Clovis, who shook his head.
“Me and him need to take a walk,” said Dwayne, “so he can get his hands washed. That one’s got the fuckin ninja.”
“Little Man does?” said Black Larry.
“For sure.”
“Who’s Little Man?”
