Duck Of A Different Color

Word had spread throughout the pod, new meat had arrived. Not another inmate this time. A prospective duck.

Today was Tony's first day on duty as a corrections officer at the prison. His eyes unaccustomed to the sights he was encountering added to the anxious feeling he had in the pit of his stomach. He had worked in minimum security locations, but need for more income had prompted him to apply to the state prison. There's just more of them now. Damn, that's a big man! Tony's thoughts were running rampant as he passed each cell with some of the worst gang members in cells to themselves for safety purposes.

Johnny was a bad character as inmates go, but he wasn't the worst. Good a time as any to show Cotton how to train a duck. Johnny had promised the new kid in the cell next to his he'd show him the ropes inside the maximum security joint.

"You have to just watch 'em close first, Cotton. If you try to hurry things along they's a good chance you'll get caught and you'll go to the hole at least, if not get more time." Johnny explained.

"You really think that joint cop will be dumb enough not to catch on?" Cotton asked his mentor.

"Don't know yet. That's why you watch him first. See how it goes. Talk to him some. Make him feel like he's in charge. Stroke that ego. See how he looks? His uniform is sloppy, walks with his head down, looking round like he's scared. Yep, I rec'on he's a good candidate."

The first two weeks were rough on Tony. He couldn't seem to do anything to please the Sergeant. Even the inmates overheard him this morning reaming me out over something little as giving Johnny another inmate's uneaten slice of cake. What can it hurt? Besides Johnny don't seem half bad. He's keeping the other inmates in line and makin' 'em fix the place where I pass inspection every day keeping Sarg off my back.He's trying to do things right for a change so he'll make parole when his time comes up.

Several months passed and Johnny had won Tony's trust. They talked almost as friends now.

"Ya see, Cotton, I sought personal advice from that joint cop making him feel good. Listen to what they say. Agree with them. If they like hunting, you like hunting. If they like football, you like football. Make him think you are alike. For example, he asked me if I believed in God. I acted confused. You gotta remember when you developing a duck you're always the student, continue to be fascinated by his knowledge. You make him think you need his help to be a better person, that you wanna be like him. I got this joker bringing me candy, books, even mailing cards out for me. I told him he ought not do it cause he might get in trouble, then in the next breath hint at something else I want. Hell, he even leaves his lunch box open with cigarettes where I can get a few of 'em pretending he don't know it."

Time to start gettin' serious with this guy.A fight broke out in the yard between two inmates with knives made with metal and soap. The weapons were primitive, yet deadly. Duck stepped between the prisoners with intent to stop the fight.

Couri, six feet three, all muscle brushed the officer off like a fly. As the officer hit the dirt, the other inmate straddled him with the knife positioned at his neck. Sweat poured from every pore of Tony's body forming mud on his face and hands.

Think, focus. What did they tell me to do in training? Can I get to a pressure point?"

"Whoa! Hold on, Couri." Johnny stepped up to the scene. "Hey, man this ain't no con. He's a cop. You and JoeJoe kill him or hurt him bad and you won't never get a parole date. Think man."

"Ain't gonna get one noway," Couri yelled.

"How you figure? You ain't got no disciplinaries in over a year. Yeah, you gonna get one now, but if you stop before it goes any further you will be showin' 'em you can make a good decision out of a bad one." Johnny pleaded with Couri.

"Yeah, maybe. Let him up, JoeJoe. Give him your blade."

Getting to his feet Tony looked Johnny's way, "Thanks man. I owe you my life."

"I don't expect favors for doin' what's right," Johnny replied as Cotton looked on.

Swat officers made their entrance taking Couri and JoeJoe down.

Later that night you could hear peals of laughter coming from Cotton and Johnny's cells. "I paid them guys with cigarette's that stupid duck gave me. Now he'll do anything I want. If he only knew what was coming."

About a month later, Johnny showed Tony a letter from his daughter telling him the wife of one of the con's in Johnny's unit had been killed in an accident. Johnny asked the officer to tell his jail buddy since they were friends. The officer told Johnny he couldn't. He'd be too emotional. Johnny told the con himself.

Johnny learned valuable information about the man he thought of as duck. The fight told him fear and friendship could get him what he wanted from the cop. The last said he could get sympathy from the man.

"Here, man," Johnny said handing Tony an envelope.

"What's this?" Tony questioned.

"I know it's against rules for cons to have money, but my friend had kids. This is a card signed by all the cons on this wing and money for them kids. Most us convicts always takin', now we want to give and it's against some dumb rule."

His voice trembling, Tony tried to hand the card back to Johnny, "Man I can't risk getting caught with this much money and sneaking out a card signed by all these inmates."

With gruffness of a hardened criminal, Johnny reminded Tony of some of the dumb things he'd already done endangering his job as a correctional officer. Tony needed to know this was serious business. In a flash, Johnny's demeanor softened again.

"Come on Tony, this could do a lot of good. It's kids, man, kids. Please. You can't deny us that. Besides, it ain't no worse than the other letters you mailed for us, or the things you slip to us. I ain't gonna tell the Sarg that rides you so hard, but I might not be able to stop some of the other guys. This is a fellow cellie's kids we talkin' about."

Tony looked like a coyote caught between a trap and a mad mama bear. There was no safe place to go.

Johnny slipped the envelope in Tony's pocket. "For the kids, Tony. You ain't gonna get caught. You can't let little kids just do without cause their old man's in the joint. You know we done took care of some of them that'd get you in trouble with the Sarg. We ain't gonna let you get in trouble."

The gut-deep fear settled in Tony's stomach like a fifty-pound lead ball.

Cotton couldn't believe how smooth Johnny got the money out of the prison with Tony.

"Grooming a duck is limited only to your imagination, Cotton. I'll go back to being the same friendly somebody Tony's used to, then take it a step further."

A few nights later Johnny recounted the events of the day to Cotton. "I told that cop relatives of the kids dead mom were sending a package to his house to bring in to our grieving buddy filled with prayer beads and cards. I told him not to open it til he got here with it and I'd show him what was inside. I convinced him we needed the address to send a thank you note back. Know what he said Cotton? Said he didn't want to know what was in the package." Laughter filled C block of the prison.

A few well-placed rumors to fellow officers by individuals outside working with inmates caused the officers to avoid Tony like the plague. Johnny had him right where he wanted him. No one to talk to, no one he could call friend, but Johnny.

He'd been working on Tony over a year but it takes time to develop a good duck. Some things can't be hurried. It was time. Johnny was tired of being locked up. He was about to turn his duck into a golden goose.

Tony and Johnny were very close to the same size. This, too, had been part of the plan all along.

Tony knew the minute he arrived at work something was different with Johnny. "I'm going on parole and you're gonna help me get there," Johnny told Tony.

Tony understood what he meant. Fear gripped him. For a minute he thought his bowels would turn to water.

"You gonna bring me a cop's uniform!"

Tony stood stiff as stone, a confused look on his face.

"Look, you stupid son of a bitch, every con in here will snitch you off if you don't get me that uniform! You done snuck out letters and money, snuck in cigarettes, candy, pencils, paper, and that box you brought in...it had stamps with dope laced in the glue on them. You done brought in all kinds of contraband to cons. You ain't got no choice." Johnny hissed, evil permeating the look in his eyes.

Johnny let it sink in a while and handed Tony a letter from the people who had received money in the letter he took out stating they would testify against him.

Tony brought the uniform in one piece at a time in his lunch box. One day he brought in trousers, another a shirt.

Johnny took each part of the suit of clothing and placed it in the bottom of the foot locker provided by the state to all prisoners.

"Shake down!" "Shake down! Word of a surprise inspection of all cells was passing down each cell of C block.

Johnny knew he'd need to stay calm and talk to the cop searching his cell when he got to the foot locker. Most officers didn't like searching and would look at just a layer or two and go to the next cell if all seemed in order. Johnny was lucky. He was being searched by one of these cops today. Joking with the guy, Johnny pointed out a portion of his cell not looked at. He bragged on his expertise at searching.

"Man, don't envy you," Johnny said as he came to the foot locker. "It'll take you hours to sift through all that junk in there. I got clothes, letters, legal documents, good luck," Johnny added shaking his head. Johnny had taped a list of items in the box to the lid. "Took me hours to pack that thing, but I know you got your job to do. I don't mind repacking if you have to dump it."

The cop looked at the first couple of layers. Finding nothing contraband, he closed the trunk and went to the next cell.

With a deep sigh, Johnny decided then and there if he was going to escape he'd better be doing it. Tomorrow would be a good day.

Morning came. Shift change of officers was at 6:00 A. M. There was a major work release for prisoners at the same time. The corridor was overflowing with people. Lined up in triple lines, the work release inmates were on one side of the hallway and officers were just a mish-mash of people milling around trying to get out the door as fast as possible.

Heart in his throat, Johnny slipped into the broom closet with the uniform Tony had snuck in to him. Superman didn't have a thing on him as far as changing goes. Out the door and to the exit door next to the control room where a Lieutenant was to identify those leaving as officers. Lieu pushed the button and the buzzer sounded louder than it ever had it seemed to Johnny. Cold, hard steel clanking has a sound of nothing else. The door going into the sally-port was open. Another officer looked all the officers over to be sure no mistakes had been made and no work release inmate is mixed in with officers. Being satisfied everyone here is uniformed, the next door is opened. All the officers cross an open area enclosed with razor wire before entering a second sally-port. The process is repeated. Johnny kept his head lower but not down to keep anyone from getting a good look at his face, yet not appearing to be hiding.

Breathe. Calm. Don't panic. One step. One more. Don't talk to anyone. Just look like you want to go home.He just knew everyone could hear the beating of his heart trying to jump out of his chest.

"Hey you," a sergeant yelled pointing to Johnny.

"Me?" Johnny asked covering his eyes with his hands feigning keeping the sun out.

"You one of them new officers?" he barked.

"Yes sir. They told me meet them in administration. Isn't that the building there?" Johnny asked pointing to the next building over.

"Don't know who the hell let you in here, but you're in the wrong place. You stay with your group, you understand?" he growled.

"Yes sir. I will sir. Do I have time to go to my car before the training officer gets here? I forgot my ID card."

Disgust registered in the sergeant's face. "One in every group. Go on. Hell of an officer you'll make."

Out of breath as he reached the far end of the parking lot, Johnny dropped to his belly and rolled under the fence separating a corn field and the parking area. Hidden in the tall corn rows he made his way to the highway on the other side of the field.

Walking along the side of the road, he heard a vehicle slowing.

"Need a ride?" the driver asked.

"Yeah, my car broke down a ways back. Just got this job at the jail and can't afford a new one yet."

The man took Johnny to the nearest town and left him at an auto repair shop.

Johnny gained employment by claiming he'd lost his job at the jail when he had no way to work due to his vehicle needing repair. It was just part-time and cash under the table but that suited him just fine. Fear of being recgonized by local correctional officers led him to flee the town. It was just too close to the prison.

Johnny caught rides, slept under bridges, anything it took to get thousands of miles from the prison that he felt robbed him of his identy. He stole clothing from homes when no one was around and food when he couldn't pick up odd jobs for cash. He had gotten a job as a short order cook in a small diner and was able to maintain a roof over his head, water, electricity and food.

Not being satisfied with a little success Johnny fell into his old habits again. He robbed a store and shot the clerk with the gun kept in the store to protect the employees. On the run for two years, Johnny was eventually caught, convicted and returned to the same state prison.

"Cotton. Boy you growed some while I was away."

"Guess I did." Cotton told his old mentor. "Thought you'd made it for good. Two years. Must be hell coming back. And the hole, well, ain't no words to describe it. How'd you stand it? Just one thing, now you back you gonna try to get another duck?"

"Like a stick of gum, Cotton?" Johnny asked pulling a pack of gum out of his pocket.

"I'll be damned. They don't sell gum in the joint. You done got another duck even in segregation."

Johnny just smiled.

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