Only The Brave Survive

The police wagon rolls to a stop in front of the Philadelphia Detention Center gate. The driving police officer waits until it is fully open then drives slow into the sally port then the gate closes. The passenger police officer lowers the window, holds documents for a correctional officer to take and examine. The driving police officer leaves his seat, steps to the back of the vehicle. Two correctional officers already stand, waiting. Police officer opens the doors. There’s an exchange of possession of five prisoners. Gregory looks up at the correctional officer in the tower who seems to stare only at him. “Form a line then follow that officer,” Correctional officer says. Electrical control doors opens, closes as the three correctional officers escort the prisoners into a large room with a long table. The prisoners file into a cell. The four prisoners seat right away on the metal benches that’s secured to the wall. Each sit in their own space. Gregory does the same. The correctional officer slams the barred door shut; the clang makes Gregory shiver. When he was in a cell at the police district, the barred door was never closed in such a matter. An hour later, the prisoners personal items are taken and secured, their street clothes exchanged for detention center garb. A correctional officer leads them to the cells block corridor where there is a change of possession. They stop at the first block. A correctional officer appears as the gate slides open. He accepts the cards from the corridor correctional officer then examines each. He tells the prisoners to file into the sally port against the wall. The gate slides shut. The inner gate slides open. “When I call out your name, I will also call out a cell number; you will find it and stand in front of it until it door opens, step inside and the door will close behind you. One hundred is on the lower lever and two hundred is on the upper level.” Gregory steps into the dark cell. There is low illumination from the block’s ceiling night lights. The door shuts. He gets onto the bed. Tears moisten his eyes and that is how he drifts to sleep. Couple of hours afterwards, he wakes from howling cries and moans from one of the five who is in pain from withdrawal. The acoustic of the cell block makes it louder. Prisoners begins to shout their complaints to the deaf ears of the block correctional officers. One finally yells, “only the doctor can help him now and he’s home in his bed.” The complaints soon stop but not the howling.

           In the morning, in the dining hall for breakfast feeding, under observation of correctional officers posted along the wall, prisoners from the block, fifty-two, file through cafeteria style serving then to a table. Gregory sits with Oscar and Andy.

           “What did you do this time?” Oscar asks.

           “Shoplifting,” Andy says.

           “You’ll get time served from here,” Oscar says. “What did you do?”

           They look at Gregory.

           “Oh, aggravated assault,” Gregory says.

           “I bet that it was your wife,” Andy says.

           “My girlfriend,” Gregory says.

           “Don’t say that when on the dorms,” Andy says.

           “Why?” Gregory asks.

           “She might have friends,” Oscar says.

           “Oh no, her family is uppity,” Gregory says.

           “Never know, I mean that somebody will know somebody. Know what I mean?” Oscar says.

           “Oh, I understand,” Gregory says.

           “Best to say that it was some dude that burnt you over money,” Andy says.

           “Yeah, that sounds better,” Oscar says.

           “What’s your bail?” Andy asks.

           “Two hundred thousand,” Gregory says.

           “Damn, you must have almost killed her,” Oscar says.

           “I did,” Gregory says.

           “Can you afford the bail?” Andy asks.

           “No,” Gregory says.

           “Same thing with me and mine is a thousand,” Oscar says.

           “Mine is five hundred and I’m not going anywhere anytime soon,” Andy says.  

Transferred from quarantine block to a population dorm, Gregory is assigned a bed. After breakfast they’re free to roam the dorm but after dinner, they’re locked in their assigned sections of the dorm.   

           “You have a lawyer?” Fred asks.

           “Public defender,” Gregory says.

           “Me too.”

           “I hope that she can lower my bail so I can get out of this shit hole.”

           “Yeah, me too.”

           “If I had known that I would get into this mess, I would have let it go.”

           “What you got a-a?”

           “Yeah.”

           “Well, get used to it here because you might get what a-a gets you.”

           “What’s that?”

           “Twenty to forty.”

           “Years?”

           “Damn right.”

           One day, Gregory hears his name being called out by one of the correctional officers from the dorm officer’s station.

           “You have a visitor; here’s your pass.”

           “How do I get there?”

           “The corridor officer will tell you.”

           “Okay.”

           The visiting room has a glass partition between visitor and prisoner, even though, Gregory is happy to see his older brother Benjamin. They use a telephone to talk to each other.

           “How’s mom?” Gregory asks.

           “She’s okay but still pissed about what you got yourself into,” Benjamin says.

           “Yeah and I’m still pissed about it myself.”

           “You’re doing okay in here being your first time in just a place.”

           “Yeah, but, everybody in here is awaiting court so there’s no b s happening.”

           “We got together and got you a lawyer.”

           “Thanks.”

           “But, he’s not too optimistic about you walking.”

           “Shit.”

           “You really screwed up with this one.”

           “Yeah, man, I should have kissed her ass and beg to be her world whenever she would let me.”

           “Yeah, you’re right about that baby bro.” 

Gregory receives his court date. The lawyer had it changed from a jury trial to a bench trial. On that date in the courtroom. His family and Joyce with her family sit in the courtroom. Her pretty face is back from when he last seen her. However, photographs of the beating that he gave her face was evidence. Matter of fact it was the only evidence needed. The judge returned from his deliberation. Gregory stands to hear his verdict. “The brutal beating that you had committed upon the victim was evil and cruel punishment that not only harmed her physically but mentally all because she didn’t want to date you anymore. I find you guilty and sentence you, to ten to twenty years imprisonment.

Gregory in handcuffs, being escorted by a sheriff deputy to the transfer cell. “You got that sentence most likely because you never did time before,” Deputy says.

           “I didn’t.”   

           “When you get to Grater-ford prison, only, the brave survive at that cold stop.”