Monday, June 25, 2007

Classified Information

Antonio sat in front of the case manager as she talked to him about his future. She was a pretty young black woman with immaculate hair curled in symmetrical ringlets. She wore a wedding band with a large stone and her fingernails were long with intricately painted designs. They made clacking noises when she tapped them on the table as she talked to him. She smelled faintly of lavender.

"Now, even though you're sixteen and have never been in prison before you're still going to have a high security status because of your sentence. You won't be eligible for parole until you've served half your time because your offense is considered a violent offense. And in order to be approved for parole it's important that you do your time with no infractions. Each infraction will be considered at your parole hearing, and it may also affect your security status at your next reclassification."

"The judge recommended a program," Antonio insisted. This lady was saying a lot of stuff, but it was stuff he wasn't trying to hear. She was talking like he was going to be sent to a regular prison and he wasn't trying to do that. He was supposed to go to work detail. He was supposed to be getting a job. She was saying maximum security.

"I understand Mr. Fennell, but unfortunately the judge did not recommend this. Apparently your juvenile history was concerning to the court, according to your PSI report. You have a long history of assaultive behavior. You set fires. You killed cats."

"I got lead! It wasn't my fault. I got lead poisoning, you can read it in my chart. They shouldn't be sending me to prison because of that. Prison ain't going to help me. I'm a juvenile." This lady wasn't getting it. It was very very important that she get it. Getting back to Tiesha depended on this lady giving him a program.

"Mr. Fennell, your sentence is natural life. I understand that by age you're a juvenile, but legally you're in the adult system now. You don't get placed in outside programs or juvenile facilities now that you're an adult."

Now her tone of voice had changed. She was getting sterner, talking to him like he was stupid, talking to him like the reading teacher in his special classes, talking like she didn't care if he got it or not. He got lead and they didn't understand. They didn't care.

Antonio jumped up and caught the table with both arms, flipping it as hard and as far as he could. The case manager gasped in shock and tried to jump clear. He caught her once in the face and she dropped to the floor hard but still conscious. He was on top of her hitting again and again because it felt good.

The noise brought custody to the door immediately. "Ten-ten at 3 Delta! Ten-ten at 3 Delta!," a female c.o. hollered into a radio as she ran to the case manager's side.

"Whoa! Whoa!" And there was Puckett. He grabbed Fennell by the scruff of the neck and the back of his pants and did a standing clean jerk to lift him off the case manager. He carried the boy out of the room screaming, swearing, kicking, trying to bite. His fingers and toes hovered six inches off the floor as Puckett carried him down the hallway to segregation.

"I'm gonna kill all you! I'm getting out! I'm gonna come back here and blow your muthafukkin heads off!"


Dinah said...

This just isn't how a Midwestern nun should write.

Emy L. Nosti said...

Well, that bodes well for him getting out of maximum security.

"Nun," I interrobanged.