Sorry for my error. I did not check, and I thought I had posted this chapter. Maybe I should receive a punishment like is in this chapter.
Also please always remember that Nifty exists when we all support it. Please send some funds to help this resource stay avaialble for all of our pleasures, and also to thank NIFTy for the great new search feature!
The Roommate Chapter 9 Hampden - SHU INSIDE
From Chapter 8
"Yes Officer, put Offender Jackson in Cell 15 and after punishment put Offender Wilkinson in Cell 17."
The other officer took Beau's arm, which I perceived was at Beau's side and at a slight angle perfect for grabbing by his belly chained arms, and they went to the door. Lieutenant Hughes re-attached my belly chain, and grabbed my elbow and said very seriously. "I am sorry, but the recording will note that an offender is scheduled for disciplinary punishment from the infraction, and I will have to give that punishment to you. This is all computer controlled, and your face has been recorded, and your need for discipline will be repeated until the computer notes that you have appeared in the punishment room, and have received physical discipline. This is more realism that I had planned, but I guess you will have a little more appreciation for how order is maintained in the SHU than your southern friend will have."
"Yes Sir," I meekly replied. I did not know what was going to happen in my punishment, but I knew I would not like it, and I knew that secretly I am fascinated by it.
Once again held firmly by my wing-like elbow, Lieutenant Hughes led me to the door, and after it opened for us, I once again was in the little vestibule. This time Lieutenant Hughes had the door to the cell block opened, and when it opened, I saw how imposing that floor to ceiling wall of white painted cement block was, and that the wall was all that the inmates in the SHU could see from their cells.
However, Lieutenant Hughes did not lead me into the cell block itself but instead turned to the right, and there I saw a solid steel door ahead of me. It was aligned with the cell doors, but this one was solid steel had the word "DISCIPLINE"
stenciled on it. Again I noted that the design of the SHU did not allow any of the offenders to see this door, and even though I had come in the door from the vestibule which led to the exercise pens, no resident of the SHU cells would have seen me.
Lieutenant Hughes then came up to me, and whispered to me that I would need to provide my name and doc number as a part of the punishment. He handed me a card and on the card was the name of Thomas G. Miller, and an inmate number of M231686. You need to memorize this information. I looked at it several times.
"Give your name and DOC back number offender." Lt. Hughes said.
I was good at memorizing and to without benefit of the card I said "Thomas G. Miller,
M231686, SIR."
Lieutenant Hughes made me repeat my inmate name and number three more times to be sure I had it.
Speaking into his shoulder as usual Lieutenant Hughes said "Open the Punishment Door."
The door slid open, and again with my elbow firmly in hand Lieutenant Hughes moved me into the room. I would have stopped and gasped in disbelief at what I saw had Lieutenant Hughes not had such a firm hold on my elbow, and the fact that shackled and belly chained, I was actually helpless to not continue to my computer determined discipline.
In front of me was what looked like to me as a sort of super well-constructed saw horse. I noted that there were circular rings toward the bottom of each of the four legs, and that these rings were welded to the ends of perhaps half inch steel rod that went through the leg, and was firmly fastened by industrial sized nuts to washers that went between the threaded ends and the heavy wood horse.
My gaze then traveled from this strange appliance to the wall at the back of this small room, which I would later be able to determine, was the width of two standard SHU cells. On the back wall were items that filled me with fear. The saw horse was a surprise but on the back wall hung three fraternity type wooden paddles. They were of three sizes by length, but all showed a thickness of at least one-half inch. Each was shiny with varnish, and in place of Greek letters these paddles were embossed in large letters with the letters "SHU, " and below the "SHU" in smaller letters was "Board of Education." The letters were in red and were in definite contrast to the light wood of the paddle.
In addition to these three paddles, which varied by paddle length and width, was a displa of long things that looked like small dowel rods which I suddenly remembered from stories of punishments in Singapore and these were called canes. When you see paddles and canes and realize that one or another is really going to be used on YOUR butt they become much more real than a newspaper story. As bad as the paddles scared me, the rods seemed capable of slicing a butt into ribbons.
"Offender you have earned your first time to the discipline center of the SHU.
You also need to know that from the time we have entered the discipline center here, that a recording is being made of all actions in this room. This recording will be retained here at Hampden Correctional Center for ten years after your release if you do obtain release from the Department of Corrections. This record will show that you will be disciplined in accordance with Commonwealth Law on Corrections 34.406 subsection "d" which authorized corporal punishment by paddle or rod for offenders in the SHU. Offender do you understand that this video will be placed on a video disk and will be retained by the Department of Corrections until the Department has been notified of your death."
I had no idea anything like this existed, and my father had certainly never brought it up, but the recording of this notification was enough to let me know I was not being given any special "scare" treatment either devised by the facility or suggested as a special scare tactic by my Father.
Lieutenant Hughes then placed a card in front of my face. On it were two statements. The first required me to give my name and back number, and to state that I understood why I was receiving this corporal punishment, and I also understood that a record of it would be kept in the DOC as a permanent record that the corporal punishment was done within the guidelines of Public Law 34.406 subsection "d." The second was that I admitted that I had indeed been warned, but had persisted in a forbidden activity."
I read the script admitting my guilt into the record.
"Offender strip off your jumpsuit and your boxers, and then lay face down on the punishment frame." Lieutenant Hughes ordered.
I did as ordered and clothed only in white athletic type socks and the cloth sandals, 0I placed myself on the horse. Lieutenant Hughes then proceeded in fastening the leather cuffs around my wrists and my ankles. Then he fastened a wider belt across my waist.
"Offender look at these paddles. As you can see the first one is about the size of what is popularly called a frat paddle. You can see that there three longer paddles available here. The longer the paddle, the more speed can be generated from the paddle before it makes contact with you gluteus maximus. As this offense is your first, I will use the frat paddle for your punishment. Repeated offenses will result in longer paddles being used, and then rods of increasing size which can be used to increase the pain and suffering as well in ultimately of permanent scaring and damage to you gluteus maximus. Offender do you both acknowledge that you did not cease you actions when advised that repetition would result in punishment?"
"Yes SIR." I replied with as much calmness as I could manage. I did NOT want a permanent record of my acting a baby.
"Offender will count. You will receive ten strokes."
I tried to brace myself, but was surprised when the first contact of the paddle with my butt was when Lieutenant Hughes stood beside me and lined up the stroke, and part of that was slowly following through his stroke to my butt which he slightly rubbed again my butt as he set himself. The gentle rub of the paddle disappeared and the sound of the paddle moving through the air and then the crescendo of pain.
I did not have to pretend that the intense pain my butt was the worst pain I could remember, and I screamed.
"Offender will count or, if offender does not count the stroke, the stroke will not count." Lieutenant Hughes stated in a calm even voice. It was almost a detached that I almost expected to hear... "This is a recording."
"One SIR." I got out remembering this response from a frat movie I had seen at one time.
Lieutenant Hughes gave me a little time to recover and then the second blow arrived, and I could not believe it would be possible but the pain was deeper, more intense, and definitely hurt exponentially more. By the third stroke I had lost all dignity and was howling right after the blow, and could repeat my line only through sobbing. Finally I heard "Your punishment is over. Take heed and remember that another punishment is needed it will be progressive and will have more strokes, and a more punishing paddle. Therefore change your behavior to follow the rules, both while you are incarcerated and later when you are released."
The Lieutenant then presented the paddle to me just in front of my face. I saw that there was a card taped to it, and through my tears I figured out that this was my script to say now to be released.
I read, "SIR this offender has deserved this corporal punishment, and will let the pain that this offender now feels be a reminder that continued refusal to follow the rules is painful and futile, SIR."
I repeated the sentence as best as I could because I will have to admit that I was still sniffling and snot was coming out of my nose.
I felt the leather straps that had secured me to the punishment horse be released, and Lieutenant Hughes helped me to stand. I gingerly rubbed my flaming butt, and slowly retrieved my white boxers, and after carefully putting them on to have them rub as gently as possible over my butt, I began also putting my legs into the legs of my red jump suit, and when I had the suit to my waist, I put on my white "t" and my cloth sandals. Finally I finished by snapping close the last snaps which closed my red jump suit onto me. I steadied myself on the same horse on which I had suffered so recently.
As soon as I was steady, Lieutenant Hughes announced "The recording is now complete."
Then a voice came through the speaker, "The punishment session has been recorded and sent to file, and the offender is remanded to his cell.
"Sir, this offender is ready to go to his cell, and can promise you Lieutenant that this offender has learned and will be dedicated to obeying rules and following orders in the future." I don't know where this speech came from, but it seemed to just be the right thing to say. After I said it, I had a second thought, and it was almost more disturbing...I was BECOMING an inmate in my mind, and that speech is what a inmate might say to the officer who controlled him so totally.
Lieutenant Hughes opened the door and once again I was at the beginning of the SHU cell block.
I walked slowly down the line, and I noticed that as I walked the chain on my shackles seemed to make such a merry sound, and I was in so much pain. I was so absorbed with the ironic merry jingle of the chains, and the intense pain in my ass that I almost managed not to hear the yelling and taunts that accompanied me down the line of cells.
"Fresh meat. Little boys should not know how to earn their way to the SHU. Hey Lieutenant, drop that little boy in my cell, and I'll teach him all about life and love in prison. Don't cry little boy. We'll all be there to help you. Just tell the screws you want to double bunk with good old Harry."
The Lieutenant did sort of slow down at Cell 15, and I looked over to see Beau in his red jump suit at the steel mesh of the cell door looking at my pained shuffling walk to my cell. Since Lieutenant Hughes did slow down a bit to let Beau see that I was still able to walk and was not bawling he allowed Beau to know that I had survived.
As I came to my cell, Cell 17, I heard my neighbor in Cell 16 say to me. "Hey boy, you're cute. Want to share my cell with me? We'll get real close!" When he had finished, he laughed at my looking at him and seeing one of the more ugly humans I ever remember seeing. He had his jump suit down to his waist, and his face and his chest were covered by tattoos. I remembered seeing in National Geographic a picture of some South Sea Islander who was about as tattoo covered, but he looked reasonably human. I was not sure this guy did. I did not respond. I just waited while Lieutenant Hughes called for the door to Cell 17 to be opened, and as it slid open I noted that thankfully there was a mattress on the cement slab that I guess was the bunk.
I went into it. Lieutenant Hughes took hold of the belly chain, and stopped me in my tracks. Holding my left arm Lt. Hughes ordered me to kneel, which I could do as he helped by holding my arm. Without his help, I think I would have just fallen on my knees. When I was on my knees, Lt. Hughes unlocked the cuffs which fastened my ankles together.
As I felt this sudden freedom for my ankles, a thought flashed through my head. "I think everyone should have to walk a distance in shackles. It would certainly make everyone appreciate the great freedom people have in walking without the chain's restriction...not to mention the pressure on the ankles by the cuffs holding that chain to your ankles...and through the ankles holding all of you."
Lt. Hughes then helped me to my feet using that bent arm that was a result of having one's wrists fastened to the chain around your waist.
"When your wrists are released from the cuffs, hold them against your thigh and legs until the belly chain is removed." he ordered.
"Yes SIR." was my reply. "Sir" seemed to be the only proper response to a man who could inflict such pain on my butt, have me move only in ways he allowed, and now will be locked in a small cell until he decided that Beau and I would be allowed to once again resume that freedom of movement and personal decisions that at least I know I would now appreciate and cherish so much more than ever before this trip to the SHU. It is true in that overused phrase. "You never really appreciate what you have until you don't have it any more."
After Lt. Hughes helped me to stand, I felt the chain around my waist be release, but of course my wrists were still locked to it. Then Lt. Hughes unlocked first my left wrist and then the right one, holding on to the connecting chain as I was released from its grasp.
I was still facing the rear wall of the cell.
"Do not move until you hear the door latch." Lt. Hughes ordered.
I heard him leave, and noted with a slight smile that now his movements were accompanied by the jingle of chains. Except, for Lt. Hughes, the chains were under his control instead to functioning to control him.
As I finished this thought I heard the door clank shut, and then a clunk which I knew must be the large lock absolutely locking me inside this four by eight space.
After I heard myself locked inside, I relaxed a little, and decided to I lay down on my chest. I spread out the thin mattress and put the little pillow in place, and climbed onto the shelf and lay down.
I heard yelling, catcalls and all sorts of comments about new meat continuing, but nothing really entered my mind besides that this experience was way too much reality. I wanted to go home.
As I relaxed a little bit I thought back to the little speech Beau and I had been given when we finished losing our free world identity and assumed the red jump suits and chains of the inmate and thought that you would have to be pretty dense not to catch on to the meaning that if you wanted not to live in this tiny cell, and move only in chains, and perhaps to have some freedom of movement...even if that movement was to move around the inside of a cell house more or less as you wanted, you would need to decide to change your behavior.
Then I got up and began to pace. Pacing was perhaps the only freedom I now possessed. I could not write; I could not watch television; I could not actually speak to another inmate through the cacophony of shouting. What I could do was withdraw into myself. I now realized why there was such a continual din of shouting between the cells. What other freedom did these men have? Why not yell into the white wall? What did it really matter if the shouting of all these men actually fairly well insured that no one really could hear any of their comments? I think that the satisfaction is expression was these inmates' tiny hold on some humanity... some sanity... in what seemed to me to be the ultimate inhumanity – the SHU.
I snapped out of my thoughts by a very loud bell ringing in the SHU cell area.
The bell stopped, and then I heard a voice coming from loudspeakers in the cell house.
"Offenders. A lockdown has been declared in the entire prison because of some disturbance in the visiting area, which has caused disturbances in cell houses 4a and 6C. All scheduled recreation and shower times are cancelled."
This announcement was followed by even more shouting coming from the cells. I though the place was loud and chaotic before, but now it seemed like every offender locked in the SHU felt the need to shout his anger at the top of his lungs and bang on the cell doors.
What I felt was that I needed to use the toilet. My lunch from Tony's Grinders had made its way through the digestive process while all these experiences had occurred, and now I needed to piss and shit quickly. I looked at the stainless steel tower of sink and toilet, and discovered the little niche in which there was a roll of toilet paper. I sat down on the cold steel which momentarily bothered me, but my need overcame my discomfort, and soon I was able to defecate several logs into the bowl. Just as I was reaching around to wipe myself, one of the guards stopped at my cell door.
The doors were not solid steel but were made of a series of steel rods woven together like a sort of screen. The guard could see everything inside the cell, and at that moment what he could see was my wiping my butt. I could feel my face turn crimson. There was no privacy for an inmate even when shitting.
"You know Miller that the water is turned off in the cells during a lockdown don't you?"
"No sir, I didn't know that."
"Well you'll just have to live with the smell until lockdown is over and then flush."
"Thank you officer for explaining, SIR."
The guard looked at me with a very questioning expression. I suppose that polite thank-you's were not common in the SHU.
The guard then moved on down the line. Fortunately in all the yelling that I now almost was able to turn off from hearing, I do not think any of the inmates on either side of my cell heard the interchange. They might indeed wonder at my ignorance of the fact that the water would be turned off in the lockdown. It clearly was so well known that no one thought it had to be announced.
Actually when I pulled up my boxers, and re-snapped my jump suit, I did not notice any odor at all.
I stood at the door for a moment more, listening to the continual din of inmates yelling at each other and at the guards. I then turned and went over to the bunk...actually a concrete shelf with a thin mattress, covered now by a sort of sheet of cloth, and a thin blanket. To me that mattress seemed very comforting and inviting. Without thinking I did what you would do in a situation like this one. I turned toward the front of the cell and plunked my butt down on the thin mattress.
Immediately my abused butt told me this idea, so natural it had been done automatically, was a poor idea after my disciplinary paddling.
I rapidly stood up. I smiled to myself and thought of all those old movies with the Three Stooges, where after Mo had smacked the butt on either Curley or Larry, the one who had just been butt beat by Mo, would hop up and rub their behind. I did not find my kinship with one of the Three Stooges especially flattering to a Williams College freshman. However, my sense overcome my embarrassment, and so I turned and lay down on my chest. When I hit the thin mattress this time, I was not in pain, but I certainly was not comfortable, and so I moved over to lay on my right side looking out.
I just laid down, and I actually went to sleep. How could anybody sleep with the noise, and with so little comfort? Emotional and in my case physical exhaustion from the emotions of the day, and especially the paddling, and now this little cage was my safe haven.
In my mind seconds later...although I was sure that time had passed, another blast of the buzzer in the unit awakened me.
"Lockdown is now terminated."
I shook myself, and immediately thought of pushing the flush button on my tower of hygiene. I was stopped by another announcement.
"Water will restored in sequence. It is the turn of the lower lever cells to go first.
Therefore as of now cells one through five have water restored."
I could hear flushing going on down the line from me.
"Water is now restored for cells six through ten." Again the pause as I could hear flushing and running water on stainless steel.
"Water is restored for cells eleven through fifteen." I knew that Beau could now flush. Then came my turn, and I was ready. I moved to the stainless steel tower and had my hand poised on the flush button. "Water is now restored for cells sixteen through twenty." I pushed the button and heard the rush of water as my cell's toilet flushed. I smiled in appreciation for this privilege and then looked at myself in the polished metal mirror above the tower.
This is the level which inmates in the SHU existed. I was physically and emotionally grateful and happy that those who controlled me completely had allowed me to flush my toilet. I wondered if my appreciation for this ability to flush would remain with me for long upon my return to society. I did know that now I truly did understand what Beau had been saying about Northern prisons. Could working in a coffle, with a steel collar on my neck and steel cuffs on my ankles and wrists, and chains locking me into the coffle be worse than this? I had been so positive and absolutely sure that Northern justice was so superior. Now I had to admit that I no longer was so positive.
Would I admit this reassessment to Beau? I did not know.