The Shot Caller

Every morning when I open my eyes one question looms on my mind, who’s going to try to kill me today. That is the question that every prison Shot Caller faces. My name is Benny Hughes, and I’m serving life in prison. You see I caught my wife in bed with my best friend. I know I could’ve let it go. But fuck that. No way I was going to live in a world where those two were going to stab me in the back and live happily ever after. This was the last time somebody was going to betray me and get away with it. So I tricked those tricks who were trying to trick me. I acted like I knew nothing and I followed them to their rendezvous at the nearby motel. I waited until they got naked and into it. Then I kicked in the door. I wanted to see the look on their faces when I caught them in the act. I wanted to feel their fear. I wanted to hear them explain why they did what they did. I wanted them on their knees, begging for my forgiveness. But I wasn’t in a forgiving mood. After all the crying and pleading, I put a bullet in the head of both of them. Now here I am, prisoner 409187.   

           Two things I did the moment I got to prison. First, I immediately linked up with a gang. I had no choice. Loners don’t survive in a maximum security prison. Second, all personal feelings and emotions, I buried them deep. Because there’s no friends behind bars, only alliances. I’m surrounded by liars, killers, thieves, rapist, and sociopaths. If these motherfuckers sense any weakness, they’ll use it against me. So the number one rule of prison, trust no one.

With that being said, my head was on a swivel. Something my processor didn’t do. It got out that he was dry snitching to the guards. So one day another prisoner lured him into a conversation on cell block A. That’s on the first floor, just under the catwalk. What he didn’t know was two guys had a floor buffer on that catwalk above him. And they dropped it on his head. Snapping his spine. Till this day, I look up every time I leave my cell.

After ten years, and a lot of dead bodies, I became the prison Shot Caller. The warden and guards are the gate keepers, but I run this prison. Like the other day, I woke up late and I was hungry. So I waived to the guard to open my cell. He did. Then I went to the end of my cell block and nodded at the guard. He opened the door. Then I walked down the corridor to the next guard station and nodded again. The next guard opened that door. Then I got to the kitchen and I walked passed some white guy in a fancy suit with a bad comb over. I shouted to the cook to fix me a cheese burger. The guy in the suit had a confused look on his face as he walked over and asked, “Who are you? And who said you could get a cheese burger?”

Now when you first look at me, I can be unassuming. I only weigh about a hundred and sixty pounds. I’m about five ten, average height. I got smooth brown skin. My departed wife said I had beautiful eyes. So I’m under estimated. But that has worked toward my advantage. Whoever said don’t judge a book by its cover is goddamn right. Anyway, I smiled and answered his question, “My name is Benny Hughes, and I’m the regulator of this prison. Who are you?”

“I’m the new assistant warden, Jonathan Franklin. And what’s a regulator?” he asked standing tall and blocking my path toward the kitchen.

“Well, Mr. Franklin, regulator means I run everything in this prison. You see there’s 1700 inmates in this prison. All under my control. And there’s only about a hundred guards and staff. And none of you are allowed to have guns inside the prison walls. So while the staff controls the gate, we control the cellblock. So as the regulator, I choose out of those hundred guards and staff who gets to leave here alive every day,” I said, then I stepped closer and looked deep into his eyes, “And if you would like to leave here alive, you’ll make sure I get my burger.”

The air went out of Mr. Franklin’s chest as his shoulders slumped. This cowboy stepped out of my way and yelled to the cook, “Get this man his burger.”

It’s funny that I was a nobody on the streets. A regular guy working a shit job. Being fucked over by everyone in my life, including my wife and family. Always craving respect and loyalty. And I had to come to prison to get it.

I ain’t going to lie, I enjoy the perks of being a Shot Caller. I get what I want when I want it. I have the ultimate respect. I’m treated like a king or a Caesar behind these walls. But just like a king or Caesar, there’s a harsh reality a boss has to face. There is always someone who wants to take your throne. So I got really good at reading people. I could look at someone and tell what’s their agenda, their limits, their mindset. If their lying to me. I have to be able to see what’s coming at all times.   

Which brings me to my current situation. I’ve had this eerie feeling that something ain’t right. A bunch of strange looks from motherfuckers in the unit. A slight change in mannerisms. And like I said before, I’ve become an expert at reading people. Prison is routine. When people’s routine start changing, I notice.

Like me for example. Normally, I get up at 6am, get dressed, and stand in front my cell for morning count. I keep a small shank in my Keister. My bad, that’s slang for I keep a blade in my ass to all of you on the outside. Only time I don’t, is during visitation because that’s the only time we get stripped search. Next, I eat breakfast with my crew at the same table, fourth to the right of the entrance. I usually don’t eat that slop, but I still go to show my face. Then, I take a shower. I usually have two guys watching my back. A necessary evil. The shower room is where you’re most vulnerable. There and taking a shit. That’s why I always take a shit with my boots on, and my shank tucked inside. Just in case something pops off. After that, I go out to the yard and hold court. Prison has more politics than the White House. It could be as simple as somebody ate at the wrong table, changed the TV without asking, or a Mexican used a black toilet. And unlike democrats and republicans arguing, if these things go left, people die. So maintaining the balance and keeping order ain’t easy. I listen to people’s beefs, and rule appropriately. Then I exercise for a little. Finally, I go to the TV room and kick back and relax.

With things being a little off lately, I decided to flip the script. I started eating while they were showering, watching TV while they were in the yard. And know I kept my shank in my hand. I don’t give a damn if the guards find it and throw me in the hole. I’m not taking no chances.

           I’ve been looking at everyone closer. And the one that’s most on my radar was, Devin. Devin was my second in command. And he was one of those two guys that dropped the floor buffer on my predecessor’s head. Devin was darker than a closet with the lights cut off. Which oddly enough, allowed his mouth full of gold teeth to really stand out in a sinister way. He’s tough as a nails, a body like that wrestler, the Rock, and a stone cold killer. He’s got two hot ones on his record, that’s why he’s here for life like me.

He finds me in the library and walks my way. His steps are heavy and emphatic; like he’s trying to step on a cockroach. I felt a lot of cold stares from him lately, like the one he has now. Walking up beside me, he talks in a very low tone.

           “Benny, I need a word,” he said picking up a book and pretending to read.

           “What’s up?”

           “Those Aryan bastards have been pushing blow up on C-block again. A clear violation. We need you to settle this.”

           I look at him, mulling over his words. Then he adds, “I know you’ve been avoiding the yard lately. If you want I could have the meeting in the kitchen, after dinner. You know I got your back, homie.”

           “Cool. Make it happen,” I respond with a nod.

Devin raised an eyebrow and asked, “You good homie?”

“Yeah, I’m straight.”

“You sure? You seem a little distracted lately. Anything wrong? You can always tell your boy. You know we go back like wave caps and hair grease,” he joked.

I forced out a smile and gave Devin some dap, “I’m good. Just got somethings on my mind.”

Devin nodded his head with a big grin flashing those gold teeth again. While slowly backing up, he said, “Alright. But I know what you need. A good drink. You in luck. D-Mack hooked me up with some orange peels the other day. I’m gonna whip up a brand new batch of pruno tonight. Meet me at my cell later. It’ll be just like drinking a bottle of Thunderbird on the block. We gonna get fucked up tonight homie.”

“Cool,” I said as I laughed along with him.  

 And there it is. Henry Hill was right. Your murderers come to you as friends with a smile. If I go to that meeting, I’ll end up with a knife in the back. I knew it was coming. I just didn’t think it would be Devin holding the blade. Doesn’t surprise though. Like I said, number one rule in prison, don’t trust anyone.

           I went back to my cell to find my cellmate, Tory, on his bunk reading a magazine. Tory was a country boy. Quiet and soft spoken. I remember the night he arrived. He was scared to death. I could hear him crying in his bunk. Curled up in a ball, not coming out of his bed for days. A naive kid caught up with drug dealers and taking the fall. I took him under my wing because he was the perfect cellie. Weak and none threatening. I could get a good night’s sleep without worrying that he’ll try something. He also made the perfect messenger boy.

           “Tory!” I said walking into the cell after looking in every direction first.

           “What’s up Benny?” he replied dropping his magazine and hopping to his feet.  

           “Do you know about a beef with the Aryans selling blow on C-block?”

           He shook his head, “Everything cool as far as I know.”

           “That’s what I thought. Get word to D-Mack. Devin is going to be in the kitchen after dinner. I want him taken out.”   

               “Wow. Okay,” Tory said walking out the cell to relay my message.

           I breathe easy. I get to live another day. I grabbed Tory’s magazine and kicked back on my bunk. A couple of hours passed and Tory comes back in. Looking like he just saw a ghost. There was a long silence before the words spelled out of his mouth, “It’s done.”

           I stood up and patted Tory on the shoulder, “You did good. You’ve been a good soldier. I appreciate that.”

           “Thanks,” Tory replied with his head down.

           “You need anything? Anything at all.”

           Tory just shook his head. “Not at the moment.”

           “You’re a good kid. You keep your head down. You do as your told. Keep it up. One day you might walk out this place.”

           “Yes sir,” he replied with a sappy smile. As he walked away, he turned back and said, “Say, you’ve been posted up in here all week. Why don’t you go with me to the day room? Watch a little TV. Your favorite show is coming on.”

           “Yeah, Family Feud does come on tonight. C’mon,” I said leading the way.

           We walked down the hallway. It was cold and dreary like normal. The sound of my boots on the concrete floors bounced off the walls, which was a little weird. This hallway was always busy and full of chatter. Then I noticed on my left, a white boy moping the floors. The only person in the hallway. To the right we were about to pass the broom closet. I looked at the guy, then I looked down at the floors and they were still dry. By the time I put two and two together, the door to the closet swung opened, and I was snatched in before I could blink. One guy grabbed my left arm, one guy grabbed my right arm. I felt another arm go around my neck from behind. I couldn’t move. I could barely breathe. The guy pretending to mop the floor pulled out a shank and stood next to Tory.

           “What the fuck is going on!” I yelled.

           Tory’s sappy smile turned into a sinister grin. His normally soft spoken voice became magnanimous as he explained, “Earlier you asked me if I wanted something. I wasn’t entirely truthful. I did want something. Your crown.”

           “No way your ass will get away with making a move like this! My boys will cut you to pieces,” I snapped trying to break free.

           “I don’t think so. The only person that was still on your side was Devin. And you just had him killed. With you out the picture, I’m the logical person to take over. I’ve already been your mouthpiece for years. They’re use to taking orders from me,” Tory stated with a wink and a smile.

           Then the white boy next to him plunged his shank into my abdomen again and again and again. So many times that I lost count. Then they threw me down like a wet rag and ran out the room. Lying in a pool of my own blood, facing certain death, my whole life flashed before my eyes. All I think about is that I don’t want to die. I can’t believe how big a fool I’ve been. I threw my life away because I couldn’t let things go and move on. I killed somebody for nothing. And somebody killed me for nothing. I pushed everyone away. And know I’m dying alone. I guess you get what you give in this life.

                                                           The End