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Resident Weirdo

I powered the laptop Schneider gave me and quickly discovered that it was connected to the prison’s internet. Although it looked to be a new laptop, it seemed that Schneider had already connected it to the prison's internet. Something told me the internet wasn't exactly public, but knowing who Schneider was, I supposed it shouldn't be too much of a surprise.

Naturally, the first thing I did was search my name on Google. 

“LAWYER CHARGED WITH MURDER OF PRISON GUARD.” 

“NEW YORK LAWYER KILLS PRISON GUARD DURING INMATE VISIT.” 

“LAWYER CLAIMS KILLING GUARD WAS SELF-DEFENSE. COURT REJECTS DEFENSE.”

“LAWYER BARRED FROM PRACTICING LAW IN NEW YORK OVER PRISON GUARD MURDER.”

I ought to be happy. I was now famous. Or rather, infamous. 

Reading the newspaper headlines made me instantly regret the search. The world didn't believe I was innocent any more than that courtroom and jury did. All the evidence was piled sky high against me, and with Kevin's friends testifying falsely and vindictively against me, I didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of winning over that jury. I should count my lucky stars the death penalty was abolished in New York, or I would have gotten that instead of a life sentence. 

The thought of it instantly made me sick. How many people were falsely convicted and sentenced to die? Certainly, the despair and injustice I felt now could never ever compare. 

The injustice of it all choked me, suffocating me until it became difficult to breathe. I was a lawyer who couldn't even successfully defend himself, so the offense was doubly painful.

Kevin’s guard buddies had spun quite the sob story to the jury, the judge and anyone who’d listen. They all deserved Oscars for their performance. 

They put me right where they wanted so they could exact their revenge: in the palm of their hands. If it weren’t for Schneider stepping in as my protector, I’d probably be dead by now, or worse. But how long could his protection last? Exactly how far did his influence and power extend? What if he was gone? What would I do then?

I recalled this morning’s visitor with a chill down my spine. The menace in his pitch black eyes was terrifying; it was like he didn’t have a soul. He hadn’t threatened me with physical violence outright, but I knew that I was being toyed with. They meant to instill fear in my heart before they beat or raped me, and it was working. 

Should I tell Schneider about this? 

I probably should. As soon as he got back from wherever he’d hurried off to, I’d tell him about the unwelcome visitor, even if that made me a snitch. 

****

Luckily for me, my Netflix membership was paid this month, so I spent the entire day watching movie after movie. It was a vain effort to forget my problems until Schneider returned, but I had nothing better to do, and I certainly wasn’t going out unescorted. Some might call me a coward, but I called it self-preservation. 

As I sat at the desk leaning back against the chair, something brushed against my foot. 

Instantly alarmed, I looked down and saw two red beady eyes staring at me. I screamed and pulled my legs up on the chair, and the rat scurried under the bunk beds. 

“Oliver?”

With an expression of disgust, I looked at the figure standing at my cell’s door. 

“Oliver, are you in here?” The old man asked. He had matted hair that was streaked with gray strands, his face was lined with wrinkles, and his clothes were dirty as if he’d taken a dive down a building’s shute and into a dumpster. He had brown eyes as beady as the rat’s.

“Who are you?” I demanded. 

Noticing me for the first time, the old man jumped. “Oh, dear. Someone’s in here,” he muttered to himself, and then to me, he asked, “Have you seen my pet, Oliver?”

“Your… pet? The rat?” 

When he nodded enthusiastically, I slowly pointed under the bed. “He’s under there.” 

“Oh, goodie.” Like a child, the old man clapped his hands in giddy celebration and pulled out a slice of cheese from his pocket. “Oliver,” he beckoned the rat. 

It didn’t come out. 

“I think I scared-”

The rat came running out from under the bed, startling me. It went straight for the cheese, and the old man bent down to give it to him. Happily, it munched on the cheese while his master picked him up and slipped him into his pocket. 

Wordlessly, he walked away until he disappeared from sight. 

“Okay…” I muttered to myself, more surprised than wary. 

“I take it you met Richard.” 

I screamed again and jumped. “Schneider!” 

He grinned, amused by my reaction. “Who else?” 

“Richard?” I asked, willing my heart to slow down. 

“Our resident weirdo. Him and that rat are inseparable. Good thing the rat came out on its own or he would have attempted to break these bars down.” 

Schneider lifted his hand and the door slid open for him. 

“Have you gone to have lunch?” he asked as he stepped into the cell.

“No.”

“Wanna go together?”

I bit my lip and looked away.

Schneider instantly sensed that something was off. “What is it?”

“A guard paid me a visit.” 

The look that crossed Schneider’s face almost made me regret telling him. Lightning flashed in his eyes and thunder rumbled across his face. But if he was to play the part of my protector, then he ought to know that I was still under threat. 

“Who?” His voice when he spoke was calm, as if he was asking which type of ice cream was my favorite, but I sensed the danger beneath the surface. I shuddered. 

“I don’t know his name.”

“Describe him.”

“Red hair-” 

Schneider turned away. It seemed my description was enough. “Wait here,” he commanded over his shoulder in a steel voice that brooked no argument. 

And he’d be getting no argument from me on this particular matter. I was more than happy to stay put. 

Once again, Schneider was gone.