Rikers High (10 page)

And we all went back to cleaning.

O
n our way across the yard the next morning, a family of cats followed us to the school trailer. The teachers weren't there, so we had to wait outside for them. They'd got caught up in an alarm in the main building and there wasn't any movement through the jail. Miss Archer usually fed the cats in the morning before school, and they were waiting, too.

Families of cats live underneath the school trailers in the Sprungs, and most kids like having them around. The cats would stretch out in the sun on the hot concrete, like they owned the place. Seeing them made dudes think about their pets back home.

“My moms had to give my dog away 'cause there was no one to walk him,” some kid said. “That cuts to the heart.”

Sanchez said that whenever a cat died under the trailer, all the classrooms smelled like dead cat. It happened twice the month before, so the captain gave the order that they had to go and that nobody was allowed to feed them anymore. But that didn't stop Miss Archer or the mess hall workers from putting out scraps. And I knew the only ones 100 percent happy to see the cats go would be the rats.

The teachers finally were escorted out to the Sprungs, and kids gave them a little cheer.

“Sometimes we're locked down, too,” said Demarco, heading into the trailer ahead of us.

We'd lost most of our time with Demarco waiting outside. But he put a word puzzle on the board while he got all his things together.

“I'm not into school today, Demarco,” said some quiet kid from the south side. “I feel sick to my stomach.”

“Put your head down and rest awhile,” Demarco told him. “Maybe you'll start to feel better.”

On Rikers, you can't get out of school by being sick. When the house travels, the COs can't leave you behind, because there's no one left to watch you. Sick call isn't until ten o'clock. Besides, you'd have to be bleeding or half dead before the COs sent you to the clinic. There's just too much paperwork involved.

The pain I was feeling on the right side of my face was mostly down to a whisper. And I had to check myself from running my fingers over the scar, feeling for it all the time.

Kids asked Demarco why he stood in the hall while that woman CO beat on Shaky and didn't do anything to stop it. They wanted to know if he was going to report her to the deputy warden, like Mrs. Daniels.

“I always want to be out there when something happens,” Demarco said, superserious. “Somewhere in the back of their minds, the COs know we're watching and hold back. Teachers make good witnesses. That's why the COs like it so much when we write you guys up. But Shaky's still in one piece. So I'm not going to get crazy over this. If I did, the powers that run this place would find a way to ship me out. And I don't know what kind of teacher would come to take my place.”

The principal shoved open the door, screaming at that sick kid Demarco told to put his head down, “You've got to be awake, young man! Get up right now or else! And you keep him awake, Mr. Costa! That's
your
job!”

Demarco took a deep breath and turned away. Then all of a sudden he just blew.

“You don't care what his problem is or what he's about, do you?” popped Demarco.

“Mr. Costa,” she interrupted.

But Demarco kept right on going.

“All you know is that when his head's down
you
don't look good!” he hollered, chasing her back into the hallway.

The two of them disappeared into the teachers' room making all kinds of noise. Dawson and Arrigo were laughing hysterical over it.

“I told you. This school shit is better than any soap opera on TV,” Dawson told his partner.

There are lots of reasons an adolescent might sleep through the day on Rikers Island. He could be stressed about his case and the time that's hanging over his head. He might have a problem with his family at home, or his girl, or his baby. A dude with a baby is always taking heat from his baby's mom because she's doing all the work while he's locked down.

Some herbs are under so much pressure from thugs, they might even be afraid to sleep at night when the house is dark. So they do the Rip van Winkle during the day when it's light and the COs can see more.

I couldn't understand why the principal got so uptight about kids sleeping in class. It's not like you could hold school on Rikers Island and make the jail part go away.

Ms. Jackson was black, but it was like she didn't know anything about us. That's why dudes called her “Ms. Jerk-off.” The black COs like Johnson and Ms. Armstrong were part of the system and
had
to play you for an inmate. But she was supposed to be there to help kids. Go figure.

“If we were out in the world, the principal would never act like that,” said Jersey. “Only with these cops to watch her back.”

“You don't get it,” said Sanchez. “We're not students to her, just inmates.”

Maybe that's why Demarco didn't get along with her. He saw us as people, and not total fuckups.

 

 

We were doing math with Miss Archer when a black staff member I hadn't seen before called Sanchez out of the room. Other dudes wanted to go, too, and a couple of them even begged.

“You know what, I'm here for everybody,” said the man, without bending an inch to that pressure. “But right now it's this young man's turn. If there's time today, I'll be back for a few more.”

I was surprised when the COs let him and Sanchez walk right out of the trailer. Jersey told me the man's name was Green, and that he was a guidance counselor, just like in a real high school.

“Mr. Green's got an office in the next trailer,” said Jersey. “He'll bless you and let you use the phone to call your family or lawyer. He done his own bid upstate, too, and tells kids what to expect when they get there.”

I didn't know that you could have a police record and still get a job like that in a school. Maybe that Mr. Green should have been explaining about kids on Rikers Island to Ms. Jerk-off. But I was happy Sanchez had somebody he could talk to. Maybe he'd start to feel less stressed.

W
hen it was time for history, Murray sat at the corner of the desk closest to the door, looking out at us over his glasses. I'd had mean son-of-a-bitch teachers like him out in the world before. But I couldn't understand why he was here. If he hated kids like us so much, why would he come to work on Rikers Island?

Some dudes said it was because we were locked up and nobody cared if he taught us anything. Other kids said he'd be nothing without the COs. That he'd get his ass kicked in a regular school without that kind of protection.

On my first trip to court, I counted eleven gates from the main corridor in the building to the other end of the bridge. The steel door out to the Sprungs and the checkpoint in the yard made thirteen. Murray passed through those gates every damn day. But why? There had to be some high school in the city that would take his sorry ass—one that was easier to get to than this floating rock.

We were reading about the Trojan Horse. How these Greek soldiers hid in its big, wooden belly and came out after the dumb Trojans pulled it inside the gates of Troy. Kids read that story and started talking about how they could sneak off Rikers Island.

“What would you do if a helicopter showed up in the yard and dropped down one of those ladders made out of rope?” asked Jersey, out of nowhere.

Kids swore they'd climb right up, even if they didn't know who was flying it.

“No way,” answered Ritz. “It'd probably be a setup. The COs outside the gates with guns would shoot you down.”

Even Murray had a smile on his face and listened to the whole rap before he snapped, “Enough of this nonsense. Back to work.”

There were more ways to talk about escaping in the Sprungs because it's all out in the open. From where the water starts, maybe it's a half mile across to LaGuardia Airport. Before that, there are two fifteen-foot-high fences between the Sprungs and the hill down to the bay. They're both strung with razor wire, all the way across the top. So even if you threw a blanket over the wire on the first fence, the second might cut you bad enough to make you turn back.

Some dudes swore there was even razor wire under the water. They said that Corrections hid it there in case you made it far enough to swim. But I didn't know how they could string it underwater or keep it from rusting.

I looked up and suddenly Murray was collecting all his books early, before the end of class.

“Pass them up to my desk quickly,” he said.

Then Murray stepped outside, calling over Dawson and Arrigo.

They talked for a minute, and then the three of them walked back inside looking us over.

Dawson said, “If you have it, give it back now.”

Nobody moved a muscle.

I saw Dawson look at one of his snitches from the north side. But the dude's eyes just rolled in his head to say he didn't know what was going on.

“Are you sure you had it when you walked into this room?” Arrigo asked Murray, annoyed.

Murray stood there silent with his arms folded across his chest, nodding.

The COs finally let on that they were looking for the chalk holder Murray used when he wrote on the board. It was made of metal, so they weren't going to just let it disappear.

Leave it to that piss-ass Murray not to get his hands dirty with chalk. Instead, he walks around Rikers Island with a big-time piece of contraband, waiting for some kid to rob him.

“We're gonna leave you boys for a minute to think about this,” said Arrigo.

Then the COs left the room and made Murray go, too. They knew we'd put pressure on each other to give the stupid thing up.

Jersey was the first to beat the drum.

“Just give it up and get these damn po-lice off our backs,” he said.

Dudes threatened to kick the shit out of any kid who'd snatched it.

Only no one came clean.

The COs stepped back inside and searched the floor and in the corners, just in case somebody got scared and tossed it. Then they searched us one by one at the door.

We put our hands on the wall and Dawson patted us down. Arrigo made the rest of us keep our hands on our heads so we couldn't pass the chalk holder off if it was still in the room. Dawson was really getting pissed. And you could hear it in his voice every time he yelled, “Next!”

All the while, crooked-nosed Murray was in the hall watching through the window. When the chalk holder didn't turn up in our room, the COs went from class to class. They gave the same speech and patted down every inmate in the house.

Brick sneaked over to our room ready to blow.

“If you bastards get my business shut down over this, I'm gonna kill somebody,” he threatened us.

Some kid promised Brick that no one in our class took it. That made me sick to hear. You never feed a thug's head like that.

Then Brick looked me right in the face and said, “You got to keep your misfit crew in check, Forty. All you're gonna do is get the rest of these GED nerds in trouble.”

I was just glad Ritz and Jersey played it silent. If Brick was going to talk up that we were a crew, I wanted kids to think we stood together.

It was time for lunch, but we weren't going anywhere. Dawson and Arrigo called Captain Montenez, and he showed up with a fresh bunch of COs.

That's when I knew this shit was going to get deep.

Montenez called the mess hall workers from our house back to the trailer. Then he had a fit because Dawson and Arrigo forgot about Sanchez being next door with the counselor. And when Sanchez and the mess hall workers came up clean, too, Montenez got serious, ordering the COs to strip-search the kids in each classroom.

The COs went into the rooms while Montenez stood at the door. We pushed all the chairs and desks to the middle of the floor. Then we had to take off all our clothes and throw them into one big pile.

I was standing in a classroom full of kids with my hands against the wall, naked.

The COs patted down our clothes and went through all the pockets. They mostly found food and cigarettes, and confiscated it all. You weren't allowed to bring any of that shit to school, but dudes tried to puff in the bathroom and sneak food into class anyway. Then they found some kid's pussy magazine rolled up in his sleeve.

“If this is sticky and I touch it, I'm gonna hammer whoever it belongs to,” sneered Arrigo.

Demarco was going from room to room, talking to kids and looking for the chalk holder. Mrs. Daniels was helping, too, but she disappeared when they made us take off our clothes. Murray and Ms. Jackson were standing around at the officers' desk taking heat from Montenez.

“The two of you graduated college, right?” ripped the captain. “I guess you could be smart and stupid at the same time, bringing a metal chalk holder in here.”

Miss Archer had been on a break, and no one told her what was going on.

“Oh my God!” she screamed, as she walked into the trailer and saw a whole class standing naked.

Some of the COs were laughing hard over it.

“That's not funny,” said Ms. Armstrong, punching Arrigo in the arm.

I wasn't surprised the COs couldn't dig up Murray's piece. Usually when a kid swipes something, other inmates see it go down. Then word gets around. If there's too much heat the kid gets ratted out. But most dudes in our room didn't even remember seeing Murray with the chalk holder that day. Never mind robbing him for it.