03 Sept 08

T-Bone v Monkey (by T-Bone Part 2)

T-Bone - Radiating power and strength, this deeply spiritual, massively built African American towers over most inmates. He is a prison gladiator with more stab wounds than Julius Caesar. A good man to have on your side.

In Part 1, Monkey, an expert in a West African style of fighting where they study animals such as the monkey, put T-Bone in the infirmary.

Monkey was part of the crew I used to be a part of. You do remember that he smashed me (kicked my ass). This story is hard for me because I had great respect for Monkey, and not because he kicked my ass, but because he had taken an oath, the same as I.
Monkey was a powerful man, partly because he was the same size as most people and they felt more comfortable with him and they weren’t jealous of his looks.

I was given orders to go “handle Monkey.” I looked at the Elephant (leader) and he said, “Drag him in the street.”
I thought of everything I could to get out of the order, but I’d took the oath of conduct and that meant I would be held accountable for my actions period!
The man running the yard was a serious disciplinarian and he’d put the gun to my head so to speak.
So off I went to the other building, and man was I scared. I gave the cop a story, and he went into a back room while I went to Monkey’s cell.
Monkey was there with this young white kid sitting between his legs and two other white guys who were selling the kid to him for a gram of dope.

I couldn’t believe what was going on. Even today when I look back at that scene I become sick to my stomach.
Monkey had three ounces of coke, eight grams of heroin, half a pound of weed and all kinds of pills and money. He had thousands of dollars and he had protection from the guards. You know what I’m saying.
I asked him what he was doing, and he said that he was on his own and that I should join his new crew, and that he’d pay me one grand a month until I was out.
You would not believe the temptation at that moment in time. I stopped and smiled.
He asked the people to leave and we talked.
He said he felt used by the crew and that he wanted to live.
I asked him how is this living.

His eyes changed, and he tried to hit me in the throat.
I blocked his knife hand, and hit him upside the head, knocking a lot of his dope and money to the floor.
He was on one knee, out of it but not out. He'd been on the juice [steroids] and now weighed about 200 even. He was high on dope, and I mean high on it, he was on one!

Before I could take care of him, three guys who were punks rushed me from behind. They couldn’t get down (couldn’t fight). I threw those punks around like they were rags and kicked and beat them silly until two of them were begging me to stop.
I threw them out and turned on Monkey.

Monkey was coming out of the power punch I'd hit him with.
He says to me that I could have the young white boy because he still had a virgin ass.
I kicked him in the chest (left lung) and called for the kid.
I asked the kid how long he’d been there.

He said two days, and started to tell me about his crime before I could even ask him anything else. He had a girlfriend that was 14 when he was 17, and her father caught them in the act of youthful indiscretion.

Those fellas on the yard were taking advantage of the young man’s inability to understand what the situation was really about! He was considered a child molester. So they were selling him for dope and the kid was out of his mind with fear.
I told him to shut up and to go to church and to get out.

Monkey had faked being truly hurt and was waiting for an opening. He had gotten his weapon and I was still feeling sorry for the kid when Monkey jumped up, and I mean jumped up just like a monkey, and cut me behind the left ear. I call it cut because of pride, but it did penetrate and cause me to lose focus. Then he kicked me in my most sensitive area, my jewels! I was blind with pain and man there is a God, Monkey tried to stab me in the neck and missed. He kneed me in the face and all I could do at that moment was grab him. I got a hold of him and – my instincts took over because of my training – his left arm was mine. So I got his hand and put him in a triangle. I gave it all I was worth. He was out in about 15 to 20 seconds, and I let go.

I went to the door to see what the cops were doing, and they weren’t in the control tower. I had to sit because my head and privates were on fire.
That piece of scum was coming to, so I hit him in the nose, grabbed his neck (throat) and I was going to take his life because he tried to kill me, and then God came into my heart and I let go. I picked him up to his feet, and smashed him with an elbow to his forehead. I let him bleed, that piece of shit!
Anyways, I told him to take off his clothes. When he did, I hit him on the chin, right out the door, knocked out. I left him there as everyone else who wasn’t locked down did so. I took the dope and money and left.

I went to the old man and he told me that he sent me because he wanted me to redeem myself and because he knew that I would handle things because of my dislike of rapists and the like.
I gave him the dope and money and asked, “How long has that kind of behavior been going on?”
He said for 17 days. Apparently Monkey covered it up by giving out dope.
The old man wanted to give the yard to me but I only looked at him.
He said, “If you get out [of the crew], you’ll be on your own and you’ll have a lot of enemies.”
But that’s another story.

Monkey went to the hole and fell in love with his own hand, and ended up in a place no one wants to go to: the prison loony farm.

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Copyright © 2008 Shaun P. Attwood