“Bring em all back so the rest of us can get a look.”
“No fuckin shit,” Dwayne said.
They passed through the metal detectors. The detector went off but Dwayne nodded to the guard and kept walking.
“You worried, bud?” said Dwayne. “ ’Cause if you are, you might as well catch it from me as opposed to them.”
“I’m cool,” said Poe. “I ain’t causin no problems.”
“That’s good to hear, bud. There was a racketeering case against Black Larry, so he’s got good reason to be suspicious. They charged me, too.”
“What about Clovis?”
Dwayne was silent and they continued down the cellblock. When they were out of earshot of anyone, he said: “At the moment, Clovis has his own reasons.”
After retrieving the folder, Poe and Dwayne went back to the yard. Black Larry took the folder and looked through it carefully, then passed it around.
“Francis.”
“Yeah,” said Poe.
“What’s that?” Clovis said.
“William Francis Poe,” said Black Larry. “That’s his name.”
“This is still bullshit,” said Clovis. “A charge is just a fuckin charge.”
“Murder One,” said Dwayne.
“Is there anyone to roll over on, Young Poe?”
“No,” Poe said quickly. “It’s on me.”
“Well that still don’t mean shit.”
“It’ll do for now,” said Black Larry. He reached behind him and pulled out a jug of pruno and they all drank from it. The mood lightened, they drank the rest of the pruno, Poe sat against the bench and everyone relaxed. The rest of the day went like normal, there were the usual comings and goings only Poe got drunk, he sat quietly with the sun in his face, he was feeling good, there was a strong breeze, he was feeling easy about things and then he was thinking of Lee, it was the last time he’d been drunk. He thought about calling her. It was too embarrassing. He’d called his mother and she wasn’t home, they would have to work out a schedule, the phones only worked collect. His lawyer would be coming, sometime tomorrow, the lawyer would only want one thing from him.
He was thinking about that, there was a hawk high up over the yard, hovering, it was hovering in the breeze like someone had it on a string, he watched it there for a long time.
“Wake up,” said Dwayne.
The only others left at the weight pile were Black Larry, Dwayne, and Clovis. Everyone else was gone.
“I’m awake.”
“Need you to pay attention to something,” said Black Larry.
Poe got up from the bench and Black Larry sat down, ran his fingers through his blond pompadour, picked up a dumbbell and began curling it, he might have been a surfer lifting weights on the beach in California, the one they always showed on television. A good- looking guy, Black Larry, he had an easy way about him, a juror had once fallen in love with him. Dwayne and Clovis looked relaxed, they could have been talking about football, but with the faintest nod of his chin, Dwayne indicated a guard on the other side of the yard, pacing near the fence.
“See that toad? The skinny little fucker that’s been avoiding looking over here?”
“Him?”
“Don’t fuckin point,” said Clovis. He slapped Poe’s hand down. “Jesus fuckin Christ this guy.”
“Clovis,” said Black Larry. “Why don’t we just stay on message?” He looked up from his bench and dropped the dumbbell into the sand.
Clovis said: “That guy over there is gonna be lookin for Black Larry tomorrow morning, the hallway between the showers and the laundry room. It’s a quiet place where people can have a talk. In case you can’t see him from here, he’s a skinny fucker with a goatee, looks like a fuckin tweaker because he is one.”
Poe knew what they were about to ask and he got cold all over, the hair on his neck and arms stood up. He hoped it didn’t show.
“His name is Fisher,” said Dwayne quietly. “He’s got kind of a rat face. But his name will be on the shirt.”
“Fisher,” said Poe distantly.
“There won’t be anyone else there. You just do what you do, that’s all.”
“Why?”
“The fuckin questions,” said Clovis.
Black Larry raised a hand as if in surrender. “Reasonable enough, Young Poe. The answer is that Mr. Fisher over there owes us, there being some items we paid him to procure that he claims were confiscated. Mr. Fisher being a fresh hand at this game, he believes that his position allows him to rip us off.”
“I’m still waitin for my trial,” said Poe. “I don’t want to be hitting a fuckin guard.”
“Mr. Fisher isn’t one of these straight- and- narrow types who’s working this job to feed his family. He’s a drug dealer. And even worse,” Black Larry said, “he’s a drug dealer who steals from his business partners. If that makes you feel better.”
Poe shook his head and looked down the fence, wondered what would happen if he just started climbing. They would shoot him. That was the whole point of this place.
“Young Poe.” Black Larry walked over close to him and lifted his face up, the way a father would, or a coach. “There are people on the outside who really do not like you. If you are here already it means this is your new home, and will be, most likely, for a very long time. Do you follow what I’m telling you?”
“Still,” Poe said. Black Larry kept holding Poe’s face and Poe didn’t know what to do with his hands, he let them hang limply by his sides. He could smell Black Larry’s breath, sweet from pruno, the sunburned smell of his skin, he had heavy blond eyebrows and stubble. He had soft blue eyes, he was a fair man, he wanted the best for everyone, that was the feeling he gave off.
“You’ve caused some trouble with our black brothers over there, but at the moment they know that if they lay a finger on you, every single one of us goes into full combat mode. Doesn’t matter whether it’s twenty niggers or twenty toads. Usually there’s a much longer probationary period, but you’ve been put on the fast track.” Black Larry was looking for something in Poe’s face but it seemed he didn’t find it. He let go suddenly and Poe just stood there.
Clovis said, “You ain’t even getting asked that much. Reason your cellmate’s been on lockdown six months is for putting a knife in a toad’s back, maybe you read about it in the paper, three guards and twelve inmates went to the hospital.”
“No,” said Poe.
“He doesn’t read the newspaper,” said Clovis.
Dwayne held up his hand. “Bud, you got lucky and you didn’t. You got one of their upper guys you embarrassed the shit out of in front of the whole fuckin place and a lot of them would put a knife in you to get on his good side, not to mention you kicked open some old scabs between us and the DC Blacks. Causing us a good deal of hassle over matters we’d worked hard to settle.”
“So I got to hit this guard.”
“Not too many times,” Black Larry told him. “We want him to be alive to pay us.” He grinned.
“I understand the situation,” said Poe. “I just need to think about it some.”
Black Larry looked down at the ground and Clovis was shaking his head. “I told you guys the first fuckin time I laid eyes on this douchebag, when he first walked in the fuckin messhall.”
“There’s a spot for you right here,” said Black Larry. He indicated the weight bench. “Or there’s a spot for you out there.” He jabbed his thumb at the yard, at the men on the other side, at everything. “Band of brothers, Young Poe. It’s all pretty simple.”
He nodded to Clovis and the two of them turned away. They walked, ambled really, slowly toward the other end of the yard. Black Larry stretched and yawned. He and Clovis approached a large group of black men who parted for them as they passed, nodded to the DC Blacks at their weight pile, then joined a group of Hispanic prisoners standing in the shade of the building; Poe could see the men gathering around to pay respect.
