Manny was in his cell. It was his good fortune to be in one on his own. All the other inmates shared, but he’d turned up lucky, somehow: each time the authorities told him he was due a roommate something happened to prevent it. Mostly, it was on account of his new lodger being innocent and therefore unable to take up his berth, but occasionally it was because the guy had fallen ill and missed his day in court. Once, it turned out the man was a weird fuck, too screwed for the prison to handle. That guy had to be sent to an establishment for the insane, instead. Manny didn’t care. It was good to have the place to himself.
He fished a chunk of cheese out of the pocket of his orange jump suit and split it into several pieces. He’d smuggled the food out of the dining hall by dropping it into his pocket when no one was watching. The guards didn’t like stuff being removed from the mess, even if it was only crumbs, and he didn’t want to get on the wrong side of the authorities, but he did it all the same. To an outsider, food theft may have been an odd risk to take, but Manny had his reason.
Normally, most of the institution’s rules were easy to adhere to. Manny needed only a little restraint, a little drawing in of his breath and counting to ten when things weren’t cool, and he was smart enough to manage that. He needed to avoid confrontations with both the authorities and assholes such as those who’d threatened Harry. Good behaviour helped win favour with the guards and by proxy with the warden, and that was all Manny aimed for: to get a good reputation, to show he’d rehabilitated, to prove he wasn’t a threat to society, to display contrition for what he’d done. If he did that, there might be an opportunity to negotiate an early exit from the joint, even if Harry’s pleading on his behalf fell on deaf ears.
And there was another good reason to obey the rules: he needed a clear head to plan for when those cell doors opened.
He smiled. The cell wasn’t all that bad. It was designed for two guys, after all: a set of bunkbeds in one corner; a shower room with its own pan and washstand; and a mirror to smile at himself in. He even had a table and a small television. It may not have been the outside world, but it wasn’t a bad set up.
He sat next to the table now, bending to place the small lumps of cheese in a row on the floor, keeping each piece a set distance away from the next, before he sat back in his chair and waited.
It didn’t take long for the mice to appear. There were always three of them and they were never far away. Manny had no recollection of when he’d first spotted them, or how he’d found that they’d come close if he put food down, but the dishing out of those little rations had become a regular thing. He listened as the creatures rustled and scuffed their way out of the shadows, their noses twitching as they emerged from under the bunks, their tiny claws scratching across the hard floor.
They were sweet companions, good enough to distract him in his incarceration. He snorted. He’d have trampled them without consideration if he’d come across them in his home on the outside. Or popped their little necks. They were vermin after all, and he didn’t have time for vermin. But in the little bubble of the universe that was life inside his cell there was no one to judge his actions and he fed the mice without fear of being mocked. Besides they were comical. Their feet scuttled across the tiled floor, skidded against its hard surface. It was odd how the creatures weren’t afraid of his presence. If he’d been a mouse in their situation, he’d have been shitting himself. The cheese was too good, obviously.
Manny admitted to himself that he was slightly in awe of the way they lifted the crumbs in their tiny hands and nibbled at them. ‘Youse ain’t scared of me, are youse? Well, let me tell ya, youse should be. ‘Cause I know what youse get up to when I ain’t here. I can see where youse have been… youse leave trails all over the floor, filthy little fucks. And I know youse spend your time shitting on my gear, spreading your germs. I should kill youse for doing that, youse realise. Kill youse good and proper. But do youse know what?’ He leaned back in his chair.
The mice, each of them, paused and lifted their heads towards him as if listening.
‘I ain’t gonna do nothing to youse. I kinda enjoy your company. And I’m wondering if, when I get outta here and once I’ve done the thing I’ve gotta do… once I’ve done it, I’m gonna get some cousins of yours and keep them as pets. I’ll keep them with me and no fucker will find out I’ve got ‘em. That’ll be sweet, won’t it?’
One by one they returned to their meal, undeterred by his comments.
‘Yeah,’ he said and crossed his legs. ‘I’m gonna do that for sure… I’m gonna have me some mice as pets.’
Footsteps approached on the gantry outside and stopped abruptly outside his door. The mice fled under his bed. Manny ignored them, too focused on what might be going on. He’d done nothing to warrant an out of hours visit from the prison authorities. The door buzzer pulsed and the lock slipped back. ‘Vasquez,’ a guard said as he stepped inside, silhouetted by the prison lights outside the cell. Manny struggled to recognise him but guessed it was Kluper, given his wide girth. ‘It’s your lucky day. You’ve got thirty minutes to gather up your gear. It’s time to go home.’
Kluper didn’t hang around, but retreated out of the cell and slammed the door shut, leaving Manny to stare at its cold metal. His mind raced. Harry must have managed it, somehow. The old guy must have said please to the warden enough times to get some strings pulled. A slow smile rippled across Manny’s face. He’d thank Harry when their paths crossed again. ‘Sorry mice,’ he apologised, ‘but that’s the last bit of cheese youse will be getting from me ‘cause I gotta leave. No offence, of course. I’ve enjoyed your company, but I’m sure you’ll understand that I’ve outstayed my welcome.’ He surveyed his cell. There was nothing in it he wished to take with him. Besides, he understood that he’d be given some old clothes to wear before he passed through the prison gate. He strode over to the door and stood behind it, so close that his breath condensed against its surface. He inhaled a deep, joyful gulp of air, imagined it was as fresh and free as a mountain breeze. Exhilarated, he prepared to leave the room for the last time. He had a big plan to carry out.
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