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A Hard RainsLoading...
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A'Gonna FallLoading...
Cody C
I: Thunder and Concrete
Back in the summer of ‘03, I spent the days contemplating my misdoings in Holdensfield State Co-Ed Penitentiary, a poorly thought out budget cut for the state that never ceased to do anything but cause problems for the guards that worked there and the poor souls who were interred for reasons beyond their control. Even the look of the prison mirrored the state’s view of us, just one big, ugly, bloodstained lump of concrete. Think of the prison as a large-scale Shrödinger’s Cat, if Schrödinger had toyed with high explosives instead of his poor pet. I honestly never knew when something was going to get violent in Holdensfield, but I knew that it would eventually.
The prisoners killed each other much too often for any real control to be left to one person, but a few old-timers and I knew the structure and guards well enough to get by. This brings me to the issue of the guards. What a mean lot of hardasses they were, and they relished in the power society had granted them over us. Sgt. Davis, who was neither a sergeant nor a member of the service, but we called him that just the same, commanded the work yard with an iron fist, as cruel and uncaring as the concrete that walled us in. The warden, whose name I now can’t seem to remember, ran aloof from the prison, and never held the incentive or backbone to parole even the most worthy of inmates. But truly the worst amongst the staff was the prim Ms. Bella Orlov, a former Russian ballet dancer with a serious lust for control.
The prisoners killed each other much too often for any real control to be left to one person, but a few old-timers and I knew the structure and guards well enough to get by. This brings me to the issue of the guards. What a mean lot of hardasses they were, and they relished in the power society had granted them over us. Sgt. Davis, who was neither a sergeant nor a member of the service, but we called him that just the same, commanded the work yard with an iron fist, as cruel and uncaring as the concrete that walled us in. The warden, whose name I now can’t seem to remember, ran aloof from the prison, and never held the incentive or backbone to parole even the most worthy of inmates. But truly the worst amongst the staff was the prim Ms. Bella Orlov, a former Russian ballet dancer with a serious lust for control.
1
Even the simplest task became a whole organized crusade, with Bella ordering prisoners to fill out forms and gain extensive permission whenever they wanted anything besides work or sleep. Worse yet was her belligerent rage whenever someone stepped out of line, resulting in, at best, a few bruises, or worse, a trip to the infirmary. I could talk for days about all the prisoners I encountered in that concrete gutter, but there was only one man who I ever looked up to, and that man arrived to us like a gift from the divine powers.
When I first saw Jason Wallberg, he was lounging in his bus seat like a dark herald riding a steel chariot into hell. Harsh thunder and lightning framed his dull grey prison transport as it slowly cruised into the prison yard, but nary a drop of rain fell. I guess now that he resembled some kind of twisted messiah, but I knew nothing about him at the time. I would later be informed secondhand that the police had arrested him on multiple vandalism and destruction of property charges with seemingly no connection, but even after getting one look at him I knew that he reveled in chaos for chaos’ sake. I didn’t even formally meet him until that night during lights out, but by that time I felt like I had heard enough to have that guy figured out.
When I first saw Jason Wallberg, he was lounging in his bus seat like a dark herald riding a steel chariot into hell. Harsh thunder and lightning framed his dull grey prison transport as it slowly cruised into the prison yard, but nary a drop of rain fell. I guess now that he resembled some kind of twisted messiah, but I knew nothing about him at the time. I would later be informed secondhand that the police had arrested him on multiple vandalism and destruction of property charges with seemingly no connection, but even after getting one look at him I knew that he reveled in chaos for chaos’ sake. I didn’t even formally meet him until that night during lights out, but by that time I felt like I had heard enough to have that guy figured out.
Even the simplest task became a whole organized crusade, with Bella ordering prisoners to fill out forms and gain extensive permission whenever they wanted anything besides work or sleep. Worse yet was her belligerent rage whenever someone stepped out of line, resulting in, at best, a few bruises, or worse, a trip to the infirmary. I could talk for days about all the prisoners I encountered in that concrete gutter, but there was only one man who I ever looked up to, and that man arrived to us like a gift from the divine powers.
When I first saw Jason Wallberg, he was lounging in his bus seat like a dark herald riding a steel chariot into hell. Harsh thunder and lightning framed his dull grey prison transport as it slowly cruised into the prison yard, but nary a drop of rain fell. I guess now that he resembled some kind of twisted messiah, but I knew nothing about him at the time. I would later be informed secondhand that the police had arrested him on multiple vandalism and destruction of property charges with seemingly no connection, but even after getting one look at him I knew that he reveled in chaos for chaos’ sake. I didn’t even formally meet him until that night during lights out, but by that time I felt like I had heard enough to have that guy figured out.
When I first saw Jason Wallberg, he was lounging in his bus seat like a dark herald riding a steel chariot into hell. Harsh thunder and lightning framed his dull grey prison transport as it slowly cruised into the prison yard, but nary a drop of rain fell. I guess now that he resembled some kind of twisted messiah, but I knew nothing about him at the time. I would later be informed secondhand that the police had arrested him on multiple vandalism and destruction of property charges with seemingly no connection, but even after getting one look at him I knew that he reveled in chaos for chaos’ sake. I didn’t even formally meet him until that night during lights out, but by that time I felt like I had heard enough to have that guy figured out.
2
That night, shortly after the big, industrial lights had sharply switched, a vile voice began shrieking into the darkness.
“I AM AN ANTI CHRISTA! I AM AN ANARCHIST! SO MANY WAYS TO GET WHA-”, Jason chanted until Bella’s voice cut him off.
“You will be silent, you insolent piece of shit!” Bella whisper shouted.
“YOU CAN’T HOLD ME,” Jason retorted and then paused for a second, “I’LL START A RIOT AND GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!”
“I shall let you do no such thing while I order you,” Bella seethed back.
At that point, I had heard enough, so I turned my ear away from the troublemaker and allowed slumber to take hold of me.
“I AM AN ANTI CHRISTA! I AM AN ANARCHIST! SO MANY WAYS TO GET WHA-”, Jason chanted until Bella’s voice cut him off.
“You will be silent, you insolent piece of shit!” Bella whisper shouted.
“YOU CAN’T HOLD ME,” Jason retorted and then paused for a second, “I’LL START A RIOT AND GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!”
“I shall let you do no such thing while I order you,” Bella seethed back.
At that point, I had heard enough, so I turned my ear away from the troublemaker and allowed slumber to take hold of me.
II: Infinite Force, Immovable Woman
The next time I saw Jason, we were both toiling away on a labor crew that was sent out to sort garbage in a dump a few miles from Holdensfield. During the first few days of hard labor, Jason must’ve seen some old fender lying in the labyrinthine piles of trash because that was all he could talk about for the next few days. From what I gather, Jason must have rocked with a small band before the cops arrested him, and he had seen the power that music can have over a group of already rowdy people. It was then that I think I started to truly believe that Jason planned to make good on his promise to start that riot, and I assumed that music was his means to that end.
Bella, the scrawny but quick woman who had slowly developed into an almost mythical figure amongst the inmates, also inhabited the worksite, but as a cruel taskmaster rather than a powerless worker. Years of work had left an imprint in her mind, and she clearly knew that worksite well, deftly slipping between the stack of rusty iron, always there whenever punishment needed to be doled out.
I might be misremembering, but I believe that on our twelfth day of work, Jason made his move for the guitar. Now, what follows is a hearsay account of what happens, but nothing matters but the outcome.
3
III: Waste
The next time I saw Jason, we were both toiling away on a labor crew that was sent out to sort garbage in a dump a few miles from Holdensfield. During the first few days of hard labor, Jason must’ve seen some old fender lying in the labyrinthine piles of trash because that was all he could talk about for the next few days. From what I gather, Jason must have rocked with a small band before the cops arrested him, and he had seen the power that music can have over a group of already rowdy people. It was then that I think I started to truly believe that Jason planned to make good on his promise to start that riot, and I assumed that music was his means to that end.
Bella, the scrawny but quick woman who had slowly developed into an almost mythical figure amongst the inmates, also inhabited the worksite, but as a cruel taskmaster rather than a powerless worker. Years of work had left an imprint in her mind, and she clearly knew that worksite well, deftly slipping between the stack of rusty iron, always there whenever punishment needed to be doled out.
I might be misremembering, but I believe that on our twelfth day of work, Jason made his move for the guitar. Now, what follows is a hearsay account of what happens, but nothing matters but the outcome.
4
Jason must have slipped off during a lunch break because, by the time we went back to work, Bella was pacing around in an uncharacteristically messy panic. Almost everyone there (and some who weren’t) swore that they saw Jason darting through the stacks with his prize; Bella followed like an angry swan. Suddenly, BOOM, a noise shook the whole dump and a cloud of dust and dirt rose into the hot sky. We all peered down the rows of trash to see that one of them had been pushed over and that Jason was running back with his newfound treasure.
I don’t know how he smuggled that beast of an axe back into the prison, but I do know that Bella was livid when she couldn’t confiscate it. Though Jason never recruited me to his little project, word soon spread around Holdensfield that Jason planned to signal the start of his own riot with a little concert just to stick it to the “Powers that Be.”
I don’t know how he smuggled that beast of an axe back into the prison, but I do know that Bella was livid when she couldn’t confiscate it. Though Jason never recruited me to his little project, word soon spread around Holdensfield that Jason planned to signal the start of his own riot with a little concert just to stick it to the “Powers that Be.”
5