To Lie Against Yourself

“Jamison!” the guard called out. His head peeked through a small window in the dormitory door.

A hush fell over the room where about a dozen men had been congregating. It was a large room with concrete floors and walls. Bunk beds took up most of the floor space. Leland Jamison hopped down from the top of his bunk bed where he had been reading an action novel. Leland had lived in this room for almost five years. It was a protective custody dorm and he had been assigned here shortly after being sentenced. He and all of the men who lived here were convicted sex offenders.

“Whatcha gonna do, ‘lil Lee?” one of the other men called out. Leland had acquired this nickname for obvious reasons - he stood only 5’4” and weighed about 130 pounds. All of the men were staring at him. Leland didn’t answer, he just walked to the door to meet the guard, staring straight ahead, no expression on his face..

“Let’s go, pervert,” the guard said. Nearly all of the guards, and virtually all of the other inmates, hated the sex offenders. They were the lowest of low in the prison pecking order, even below the informants, who informally had their own protective custody dorm. Leland gave no response and followed the guard out the door.

“Leaving delta with Jamison. Repeat, leaving delta with Jamison.” the guard said into his radio. They waited silently by a thick steel door. After about a minute there was a loud buzz and the door popped open. The guard waved to the control tower and the two men walked through the door and into a long narrow corridor surrounded by housing units on either side. 

Because Leland lived in a protective custody unit, his movement was limited. He could move around his own dorm, which had its own small exercise yard, and mess hall. But unlike the general population inmates, he could not freely move around the rest of the facility. Today, he had a critical meeting with his case manager Ms. Cotter, whose office was in the Administration Building, on the other side of the prison. So he needed an escort to get him across.

As Jamison and the guard silently weaved their way through the prison grounds Leland was barraged with a constant stream of catcalls.

“Chemo!”

“Skinner!”

“Get on in here and we gonna fuck you up real good, pretty boy!” one large inmate called out, gesturing with his finger. The others hooted and laughed.

Leland didn’t pay the men any attention. He had heard it all before. He had taken his share of lumps too, when he had first been locked up. That was in the receiving and diagnostic unit, before the prison officials had assigned him to protective custody. But he had never let them break him. Today he kept walking with his chest puffed out and his head held high. 

Inside though, Leland was worried. Not at what the other inmates would do to him if they got their hands on him. But at the decision had to make it 

*****

You see, believe it or not, Leland Jamison was not guilty. He didn’t do it. Yes, all the inmates say that. But in Leland’s case it was true. On paper he was a convicted sexual offender, the lowest of the low, the sleaziest form of humanity. But in reality he hadn’t done what a jury had convicted him of doing. He had never abused the child. Why the boy claimed Leland did, he would never know.

His wife Maggie had been beside herself. He was her everything, the perfect man. He was the breadwinner but never that rubbed in her face. He had done half the cooking, half the cleaning, half the laundry. He had driven the kids all over creation to all of their sports games and various lessons. He had taken care of the yard and fixed both of their cars. The children idolized him and still didn’t understand where had gone. Her friends, with husbands who made half as much as Leland but still didn’t pick up a finger around the house, and were gone all weekend playing golf or drinking with their buddies, were jealous of Maggie.

“I wish I had a man like that,” they would say.

“Stay away from him, he’s all mine,” Maggie would respond with a smile. But she was only half-joking.

“We can work this out,” she told Leland after the charges came down. “If you have a problem then you can get help. I’ll stand by you.”

At first she had believed him when he told her didn’t do it. But with every day that went by, he could hear more and more doubt creeping into her voice.

“Why would a little boy lie about something like this?” she had finally came out and asked. She told him to move out two days later.

*****

Before the trial, his lawyer had urged him to take a plea bargain.

“The prosecutor will drop the felony,” the lawyer said. “You will plead to a misdemeanor sexual assault charge and serve only six months. You will only have to register as a sexual offender for five years. The prosecutor doesn’t want to have to put the boy on the witness stand. And to be honest he’s lazy and doesn’t want to go to trial. He would just as soon plead it out. It’s an incredible deal.”

Leland agreed it was a good deal compared to what he was facing if he lost at trial. “But that means saying I’m guilty?” he asked.

“Yes,” his lawyer said. “The Judge will not accept a no contest plea in a case like this.”

“But I’m not guilty,” Leland said. “I can’t say that I am.”

The lawyer rolled her eyes. Every time they talked after that she kept suggesting he take the plea bargain, to the point where she was almost pressuring him. But Leland held his ground. He wouldn’t say he had done something he hadn’t.

After the boy testified, and the jury found Leland guilty, the judge sentenced him to fifteen years in prison.

“But because you have no record, and other than this horrible episode seem to have lived an upstanding life, I’m going to give you a chance to get out early,” the Judge said. “If you complete the sexual offender treatment program, I will allow the prison to release you after six years.”

“You can get out in only six years!” Leland’s lawyer said in the holding cell right after the hearing. “I was sure you would get at least ten. What a great sentence!” Leland stared at her in disbelief as she hurriedly packed up her things and left.

*****

What neither the Judge nor the lawyer had told Leland about his sentence is that there was a catch to getting out early. Leland found out about it shortly after he had moved into the protective custody dorm. Doug, one of his new roommates, and a friendly, talkative sort, had greeted him immediately. Doug had already been in for a few years before Leland arrived. 

“What did you do?” Doug asked.

“I’m not guilty,” Leland said for the thousandth time. “Didn’t do it.”

Doug just smiled. “That’s what all the newbies say when they first get in,” he said. “But eventually they come clean. We’re all sex offenders in here, nothing to be ashamed of. Right boys?” Several of the other men chuckled.

Leland was disgusted and that their lack of remorse, but he kept his feelings to himself. Since he would have to be living with these people for the next however many years he didn't want to ruffle any feathers.

“Not me,” Leland said. “I’m not going to judge you fellows but my case was a mistake. I’ll just have to do my time and get out of here the best I can. The Judge told me if I complete the sex offender treatment program I can get out in six years. So that’s what I plan to do. I can get along with teachers, sit in classes, and pass the tests. School was never a problem for me.”

“There’s only one problem with your grand plan,” Doug said, the other men following along behind him all nodding in agreement. “In order to complete the program you have to admit that you are guilty. If you don’t admit it, they won’t even let you into the program. If you don’t admit you did it, you won’t get out of here in six years. You’ll get out in fifteen years.”

Leland gulped. He didn’t want to believe it. Maybe they were just hazing him. But not long after that he met with his caseworker Ms. Cotter. She confirmed everything that Doug had told him. 

“Not guilty,” Ms. Cotter scoffed. “Heard it once, heard it a million times. You’ll be spilling your guts. Mr. ….” She paused and looked down at her file , obviously trying to remember his name. “...Mr. Jamison.” She looked back up with disdain. “Come back and talk to me when you’re ready to get real.”

Leland didn't want to admit to something he hadn't done. But he also didn't want to serve an extra nine years. What was he going to do?

*****

Leland and the guard escorting him were almost across the entire prison now, near the Administration Building. Ms. Cotter was still his case manager. Leland knew that from the printouts on his prison paperwork, even though he hadn’t seen her in person again since that day she had scoffed at him five years ago

Now she had sent for him and he knew why. He had served five years, and the sex offender treatment program took one year. Ms. Cotter let the sex offenders into the program just in time to finish it and make their early release date. Every time a guard came to escort one of the sex offenders to Ms. Cotter’s office, all of the others knew it was his time to start the program. Rarely did they come back. When one occasionally did, he said it was because he wouldn’t admit his charges and so Ms. Cotter wouldn't let him into the program

As they approached the Administration Building, Leland’s heart was pounding. He wanted to get out of this prison so badly. Just the faintest hint of freedom caused him to tremble. He could live with his parents and help them out in their old age. His brother said he could get Leland a job. Maybe, just maybe, his wife would talk to him again. In his wildest dreams he would be able to see his children. 

Over the years he had had so many chances to lie against himself. To make this living hell he was going through a little bit better. But he had always declined. He didn’t know if he was strong enough now not to cave in and tell them what they wanted to hear.

They arrived at the door to the Administration Building. Leland’s escort hit the buzzer and after a brief wait they were let in. Another guard looked at him.

“Leland Jamison?” the guard who greeted them asked.

“Yessir,” Leland said.

“Ms. Cotter will see you now.”

Leland gulped and his knees felt weak.

The guard who had been walking with him for the last twenty minutes, who hadn’t said a word the entire time, finally spoke up.

“Whatcha gonna do, ‘lil Lee?” he asked, doing a nearly dead-on impression of the inmate who had posed the same question when they first set out. The two guards shared a knowing look and smiled.

As Leland turned to go into Ms. Cotter’s office he still had no idea.