“What do you mean?” Nick shouted on the phone, unable to believe that his lawyer could not even get him to transfer to another facility.
He could already feel that his other inmates were staring at him as if they knew something he did not. He had managed to make friends with some. But in this place, you could never trust anybody.
They might seem friendly to him because they knew he had money, but once someone offered them more, they would turn their back on him. They might even be the ones who would stab him in the back.
“That is not acceptable.” He shouted again, finding all his lawyers incompetent. He still rotted in jail. Yet, he kept paying them an enormous amount of money for their retainers fee.
He was afraid that if he did not get out of this place soon. He might die in his bed as he slept or now as he walked back in the hallway towards his cell.
He slammed the phone into its place and walked back to the door where a guard was waiting for him to finish. He just used up his pass for the day. Now, he could not call anyone else.
“Aren’t there anyone else looking for me?” He asked, hoping that something else would make this day less gloomy.
.....
The man he ordered to contact his enemies said that the other party had already received his message. He just had to wait for the response.
But he hoped that they would come soon. He hoped they had come yesterday. He would have called them if he had their number. But he was left to wait until they came to respond to his heed.
They were his last chance to get out of this place. He would do anything and say anything as long as they would help him get out of this hellhole.
“No one is looking for you.” The guard said as he opened the door to let him pass him. He felt the iron rod stuck into his back, poking him to speed up his movement.
“Come on, back to your cell. Hurry up.” The man said impatiently. He slightly flinched from the impact, although it did not hurt that much. Still, it reminded him not to anger the guards.
“Ok. I am walking as fast as I can.” He tried to widen his stride, making his feet move quicker.
He could see the other guards looking their way while the other inmates avoided getting their attention. Nobody wanted to mess with the guards. Because inside this cell, they were no match with them.
A guard had already beaten him before, and he had no plan for a repeat. But he could not run because that would also anger the guards. He just walked ahead of the guard, using a slightly quicker pace.
“Hey, Mister Travis.” He heard a bulky man inside a cell he had not seen before. “You should hang out with us sometime.” The man shouted at him as he continued to walk back to his cell.
He turned his head in his direction, examining his face for recognition, but he believed it was the first time he had seen him. He must be new inside, or he would have recognized his face.
He also quickly looked away, avoiding making any eye contact with the other prisoners. It was not wise to look at them directly into their eyes unless he was asking for trouble.
He was beginning to learn the rules inside a prison. He was not referring to the regulations set by the authorities but the laws of the inmates.
“You.” A guard shouted, probably referring to the other man. “Keep your voice down.” He heard the guard instruct, but he continued on his way without looking back.
There was something off about the man when he briefly glanced in his way. His eyes were sharped as they stared at him. He seemed to be in deep thought.
He sensed something off about him as if he could not trust him. Not that he could trust anyone else around here. Still, he had to stay away from him until he figured out who he was.
“Hey, is that Travis?” Another guard shouted at their back. He asked the other guard, accompanying him back to his cell.
“Yes, why?” The guard at his back asked, making him curious why the other one was asking for him.
He wondered what he did now. Or, if finally, he had a new visitor who might bring him some good news. He was hopeful for the latter since he knew his time was running out.
The big boss might not have liked his response to his offer. But he could not take the entire fall for this. He might be guilty of some of it, but not everything was entirely his idea.
“The warden assigned him in the bathroom duty today. He wanted him to clean the west wing.” The other guard walked towards him, looking at him from his head to his toes as if he was sizing him up.
He maintained his silence, not wanting to anger any of them. He had enough problems to deal with, learning that answering back would not help him with his situation.
“I still had a few things to do, so could you take him?” The guard who was behind him said.
Suddenly, he was walking away from his cell and turning into a hallway that would bring him to the designated location. He had learned that, despite his wealth, he could not avoid the disgusting chores inside this facility.
He had washed greasy dishes in the kitchen, helped in the laundry, and dug dirt in the garden. He was not surprised by this new task anymore. He could already imagine the nasty condition of the bathroom he would be cleaning.
“The warden needs this spotless.” The guard pointed to him the cleaning materials already waiting for him on the other side of the dirty and stinky room.
It looked like the bathroom had not been cleaned for quite some time. But that was not unusual since this part of the prison was not frequented by the inmates.
“Yes, I will do my best.” He even saluted the guard as he walked out of the room with his fingers pinching his nose.
He knew the guard would not stay far away, but he would be at a considerable distance, out of the reach of the stench coming from this room.
He could not even try to take a deep breath because it had smelled so bad. He quickly grabbed the bleach and soap, putting them in the pale with water.
“Big boss, if you think this would scare me, you are wrong.” He mouthed in the empty room. His voice echoed and bounced through the walls.
He placed the sponge on the water, scrubbing the tiled walls, and making the suds drip down to the floor. He thought that should help with the smell as he let the cleaning detergent do its job.
He started whistling, not wanting the eerie silence to get to him. This silly task would not break him down. He was made tougher than this.