It was recreation time and we were out in our unit's tiny yard. There was an old, rusty Universal weight machine stuck in the corner and I was watching Norm go through his routine on it. He was using every plate on the stack and was still doing at least fifteen reps per session without breaking a sweat. I was voicing my concerns to Norm that I had been there for a week and had only talked to the shrink once. "That's all they need." He grunted as he benched the entire stack of three hundred. "Who's they?" "The court. The Man. You know what I mean, brother." He sat up and wiped his medicine ball sized head with a towel. "Look, this is how it works. You stroll into a bar and hit a dude over the head with a baseball bat. He doesn't die but he winds up in a coma so he might as well be dead. You act like a born again retard in court. They send you here for a court ordered observation. Shrink comes in and has a little sit down with you. Writes up a nice report to the court and the next thing you know you get the big M. I. and D designation. Mentally ill and dangerous. That's the worst you can get in this craphole." He wagged his finger at me. "Gotta watch those shrinks. They are very fucking sneaky." "How long a sentence is a M and I?" My voice was squeaking.
Norm gave a evil grin and started pumping
out reps again. "Don't forget the D on the M I and
D. Dangerous is the key word here. Judges hate the
word dangerous. Bad at reelection time. They don't
want to be the guy that lets out the nut who rapes a
boy scout and burns down a church the first day he's
out on the street. So a M I and D could be for years.
Could be forever. All depends. Getting committed
ain't like getting sentenced to the joint. That's the
thing about the bughouse. Free world people think
that a convict is getting off easy by getting
sentenced here instead of prison, like it's a fucking
country club."
He let the pile drop with a loud crash. 'What
bullshit that is! In here with the M. I. and D., the big
bitch, that can be as good as a life sentence. You
throw in the electric shock and all the dope they
pump in you every fucking day, couple a years
you'll be doing the thorazine shuffle and shittin' in
your pants. Just like old Danny. The unit
punchboard."
I couldn't believe the shit I was hearing. I
was so stunned I couldn't hardly speak. "That bitch
in the hospital dosed me, man. LSD or some shit.
I've dropped a lot of dope and never been that
fucking whacked. That's why my ass is in here.
These fucking doctors have to figure that out. Won't
they?
Norm sat back up on the bench. "Dude, I'm
not saying that it's going to happen but I seen it
happen a dozen times since I been here. But it
seems to me that someone wants your ass in here.
Maybe so you'll be easier to get to. It's more than
obvious than you're gonna have some badasses
looking for you after the shit you pulled." He stood
up, casting a huge shadow over me.
"But it doesn't have to be that way, little
dude. I know how to get you out of here. But it ain't
for free. Its gonna cost you, big time. You'll owe
both me and the Brotherhood."
He started in on his lat pulls. "Up to you. So
think about it." He grunted as he pulled the stack
down. "Just don't think about it forever."
Norm had AIDS. He had contracted it
shooting speedballs and sharing the needle with his
Aryan buddies at the penitentiary. He had done the
hit on the guard because he had nothin' to lose. That
was why he was at the security hospital. Since he
was going to die anyway, the state figured it would
be safer and smarter to send him to the security
hospital while he waited to punch out rather than to
lock him up in segregation. From the hole he could
still carry out prison business, but by putting him in
the nuthouse they could cut him off from his Neo-
Nazi friends.
Isolate him somewhat.
'Wonder if they don't commit me? What if
the doctors clear me. Then I just have to stand trial?
If I copped a plea I'd maybe I'd only do five to ten.
The court may take in to consideration about my
father's life being threatened? With good time I
could be out in a few years."
It was almost time to lock in for the night.
Norm and I were the only inmates sitting out in the
day room, the rest of the unit had either already hit
the sack, the medication the committed inmates
were on tended to make them turn in early, or they
were in Danny's cell, pounding his ass for a
nightcap.