Читать книгу Prison Puzzle Pieces - Dave Basham - Страница 13

Chub was quite a bit more than chubby, but the name Chub will work. He was on the swamper crew and did a good job. Boomer and Chub were friends, at least to some degree. Chub was related to a top gang member in the prison, so he had some clout. Boomer had been associated with a gang and most likely still was, but he was strong enough and savvy enough to establish his own rules.

Another member of the swamper crew decided to try to create a rift between the two of them by telling Chub that Boomer was speaking badly of him. What the reason for this was, I have no idea. Generally jealousy is a reason. Revenge another. And still another would be to try to create a job opening for a friend. Who knows what all else is a possibility in this complicated underworld that exists in prisons.

When Chub went to Boomer to ask him about what was going on, Boomer brushed it off as nothing and told him to stop buying into the gossip. Chub wasn't convinced, as he kept hearing things. Boomer kept brushing him off telling him to ignore what he was hearing. Chub let the rumors get the best of him. One evening, when Boomer was on the phone, Chub came up behind him and cold cocked him. Boomer was laying on the floor out cold.

This was not seen by any officer. The officer in the bubble had no vision of the phone Boomer was using. Other officers were spread throughout the unit. Many inmates were out socializing, playing games, having snacks, ironing, and other such activities. All of these bodies would block the view of an officer unless the officer was very close. Chub was smart enough to watch and wait for the right opportunity.

Chub was large and had power, especially if he put his weight behind a punch, but he was no match for Boomer in a one on one fight. Because of this, he ran and locked himself in his cell before Boomer could gain consciousness.

When Boomer came to, he was informed by other inmates of what had transpired. He went up to Chubs' cell to get revenge. There was no way Chub was coming out of that cell.

Boomer knew Chub had to come out the next morning to do his job, so he got ready for him. Chub knew Boomer would have to come for him, so he got ready.

Morning came. I was in the bubble assigned to doing the paperwork for the day. Screw Master was the OIC and was sitting in front of the control board. Screw Master opened everyone's cell doors using the control board. Then he watched what was going on so I could keep hustling on the paperwork. Inmates were out taking care of their business and getting ready to go to breakfast.

Critical to this story is the layout of the unit. The bubble is in the middle up against the outside wall. From here we can look forward and see the wall of cells. If we look toward the back of the unit, first we see a line of telephones, next a large ice machine, then exercise equipment, washing machines and dryers are next with the shower post stand at the end. All of these things are lined up against the outside wall.

At the end of the block are the showers lined up against the back wall. The back staircase is in front of the showers against the inside wall. There is a large sink underneath these stairs. This area is not visible to us from our location.

When Chub came out of his cell, Boomer went after him. He caught up to him by the back side of the ice machine; out of our vision. Boomer had a slender round firm piece of metal with him that he had kept hidden in a cell that housed cleaning supplies. It was believed to be the firm wire handle from a paint can. It was straightened and sharpened. Boomer rammed it into the blubber of Chubs' belly numerous times before Chub was able to escape and run down by the washers.

As Chub was escaping Boomer's on slot, he reached into his pocket and grabbed hair clippers that he had put there to use as a weapon for this anticipated revenge assault. He turned around and planted himself firmly to the ground with all of that weight of his. As Boomer was flying toward him, Chub threw a punch at Boomers face with all of the power he had. The clippers were in his hand with the sharp edge driving toward Boomers face. Boomer had little time to react. He got his arm up to his face in enough time to keep his jaw from getting ripped off. The clipper still made contact with the left side of his face and sliced it open.

Screw Master saw some odd activity going on down there, but couldn't tell what was happening from how far away we were. He asked me who was down there. I told him Boomer was the guy that was moving and that Chub was standing next to the washers. He paged Boomer to the bubble. Boomer normally follows directives instantly. This time he did not. He could not be seen with a hole in his face and bleeding or he would be hauled out of the block. He disappeared under the back stairway to the sink where he tried to stop the bleeding and get the blood cleaned up. Screw Master mentioned to me that it was strange that Boomer hadn't responded. I concurred. We were wondering what was going on as a bit of time had passed. Then we saw him walking across the second tier to his cell. The hole in is face was away from us. Shortly after this, he came out of his cell holding a waste basket on his shoulder in order to cover up his wound. He made like he was out emptying his trash and then came to the bubble. Screw Master asked him what was going on down there. Boomer was evasive and apologetic. Screw Master spoke to him about horseplay. Boomer assured him that he would never be goofing around like that again.

When their conversation was done, Boomer told me that he needed me to come to his cell; that he had to talk to me. I told him I was real busy and that I would get to him later. He said it was real important. I told him I would be there as soon as I could. He went back to his cell. Shortly after, he sent someone to speak to me. He said that Boomer really had to see me right away. Screw Master said he would cover for me.

When I got up to his cell, I could vaguely see him sitting on a chair in the back of his cell with the lights off. He told me to step inside. I entered. He turned the left side of his face toward me. Even in the dark, I could see a large gash in the side of his cheek. He then held up the arm that he had blocked the blow with. His forearm was bulged up over twice the size in the middle and gradually tapered down toward the elbow and wrist; and this was a big arm! I am not easily surprised, but these wounds were wicked. He also pointed out that his mouth was swollen on the right side from him being assaulted the night before.

We both knew the rules. I knew the rules he had to follow in order to exist in this environment. He knew the rules that my job dictated. He knew he needed help. He knew I would do my job according to institution policy no matter how cool we were with each other. To make sure he was clear with that I said, "What can you tell me?" I emphasized the word CAN.

He told me the story the way he could tell it to me. It was a short version. He told me about the night before. He left out names. He left out that this morning he had shanked the guy first. He told me what I had to know in order to get him help.

I reported back to Screw Master. We talked about the incident. I checked the control panel and observed that

Chub had locked himself in his cell. We figured the other person involved was Chub, seeing as how that is who Boomer was with by the washers when their activity appeared strange and especially now that he had switched in.

Screw Master escorted Boomer to health services to get fixed up. After repairs were made to his face, Screwmaster locked up Boomer in his cell.

The squad came and escorted Chub to segregation; soon after Boomer was escorted back to seg. During the unclothed body search, while Chub was being processed, is when we first found out that Chub had been shanked. Due to the amount of blubber around his gut, no organs or anything vital were hurt; only fat was pierced.

Both of these guys were professional convicts. They never gave up any information on each other. I pieced together what I knew with information from informants. Also, over time, people that knew things but wouldn't be informants gradually spoke about details when it didn't matter anymore.