07 Dec 06

Frankie in Trouble

Frankie sent a note summoning me to Yard 4's fence. During rec, I went to the fence, and a guard let Frankie out of his cell to speak to me.
“They’re tryin’ to supermax me, homey,” Frankie said. “To send me to SMU.”
“You must have got a lot of tickets,” I said.
“Yeah. I’ve had two for dirty UAs, one for hooch, three minors for bullshit, and they tried to get me for tryin’ to start a riot in the kitchen. They wanna override me all the way to supermax.”
“So you’d have to do the rest of your time at SMU?”
“Yeah.”
“How long have you got left?”
“June of 2008 is my minimum and my maximum is seven or eight months later.”
“Two years at SMU would be rough.”
“It ain’t nothin’, homey. I’ll do that motherfucker jackin’ off.”
“When will they decide what to do with you?”
“I’ve got a max-package hearing. My homey, Jay’s, gonna defend me. We’re gonna try and get the warden to agree to a contract, meanin’ I won’t get in no more trouble if he lets me stay. That’s gonna be real hard.”
“What’s going to be hard: getting the contract or staying out of trouble?”
“Stayin’ out of trouble. Hey, if they roll me up, don’t forget about me – especially when you get out.”
“I don’t think I could forget you if I gave it my best try.”
“Don’t make me fly over to England, foo’. I’ll carve you up and feed you to the sharks in the ocean.”
“That’s cheerful.”
“I’m gonna give you a drawin’ before I leave.”
“Of what?”
“My cock.” Frankie cackled and slapped his thighs.
“So there’s no hope of you staying in Tucson?”
“Nothin’ can save me from those fuckin’ cops. They hate me.”
“Why.”
“’Cause I don’t suck ass. Anyway, I gotzta go, Englandman. But I’ll send word about the hearing, so you can say goodbye to me.”
“Alright. Good luck my friend.”

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Copyright © 2006-2007 Shaun P. Attwood