N.A; Yes, I am ashamed of calling Max such names. I really suck at writing for Leo and you may only throw liquid objects at me in anger. Also, sorry I can't update all that often. Busy lifestyles blow chunks. I'll try to get a new chapter up as often as I can.
Thanks for your feedback!
Chapter: III - Impudence
My closed lids tightened in discomfort as I curled up further more into my blanket. Was it morning already? No, not yet. It's not morning till I get up. I gave a mental laugh at the notion before throwing the sheet of warmth over my head to prevent the sun from discovering me. If you can't see them they can't see you, right?
Nesting my head deeper into my pillow for comfort, my lips curled into a smile. Nothing was getting me out of this bed. Not now, and probably not for the next twenty minutes.
Suddenly I found that there was...something I had to do bad.
Running over to the toilet I began to pull down the front of my pants only to come to a sudden halt. And I thought the floor smelt bad, the fowl odor escaping from the toilet was enough to make me gag. I threw my hand over my mouth while holding in my breath. Flush! Flush! Where the hell was the bloody toilet handle!
Desperately in search of the leaver I found it harder and harder not to regurgitate. If the smell didn't scare you away the toilets appearance certainly would. It was covered in an unhealthy yellow and brown rust...at least I hoped that was rust. The seat was broken and holding on by only a single hinge. Toilet paper flooded the insides of the bowl along with a quantity of other things that I have no intention of describing.
Using my foot I skillfully maneuvered to push down on the leaver and dispose of the filth only to face worse outcome. Clogged, smelly, and now backed up. This was getting ridiculous, and I still had to go exceedingly bad!
Gasping for yet another breath and holding it in again I found it was now or never. I relieved myself as quickly as possible before slapping the seat down to prevent the 'what's it' from rising over the lid. In the end it proved pointless for the moment I stepped back a stupendous amount of appalling, murky, 'water' trickled out of the bowl slowly making it's way toward me. Looking away I did my best to neglect the appalling scene and evert my thoughts else where.
My eyes ineffectively stumbled upon the current habitué of my cell. It was astounding to find Philip still fast asleep after all this. I mean, isn't it true one can awaken just by a simple particular smell? I remember my mothers baking used to wake me up in the morning. And what woman bakes in the morning you ask? That I really don't know, all I do know is that her baking was spectacular.
The exhilarant sound of tumult keys caused me to rush over to the bars calling out to the owner, "Hey guard! Guard!"
Finding myself almost completely ignored I took off my shoe and began banging it against the bars to my cell to elevate the chances of catching the guards attention.
"You can wait another five minutes just like everyone else, Fatty. Breakfast is at eleven." he called out, avoiding my cell.
That bastard... "I'm not looking for food, I'm looking for a plumber!"
After a brief moment or two the guard alas walked over to my cell, a brow raised in interest as he scanned me over. "Oh yeah? What's the problem now, you break your toilet after sittin' on it?"
"No," I began most suttle, my fingers curling around the steel bars "it was broken before I got to it! And would it hurt you to clean that thing for once?"
Giving out a laugh the guard walked off "You should have thought about that before getting arrested."
Who in their right mind thinks about a prisons plumbing before committing a crime? "Next phone call I get I'm phoning the health inspector! Then we'll see who's laughing!"
Unaffected by the comment, the laughter slowly faded as the guard walked from sight. A sigh escaped past my lips as I leaned forward resting my head against the insipid, cold bars. Wow, I really had hit rock bottom. Here I was nothing more than scum at the bottom of other peoples shoes. Why, I remember every time I would open my mouth the world would stop and listen. That was along the same time that I'd burn money --literally-- to light a cigar. Yeah, those were the days...
I suddenly smacked myself across the face.
Shame on you, Max! Pull yourself together, damn it! You know better than to think any less of yourself. Heck, you shouldn't be talking about your glory days either, your still living them! There's no time to wallow around in self pity, you have a lot of work to do. Now put your shoe back on and get ready for breakfast.
I followed my own instruction and placed my shoe back on my foot before finding myself already prepared for my first meal of the day. The guard had spoken about a five minute wait causing me to assume that was till eleven: breakfast.
Five minutes feels like forever when your forced to sit, or in my case stand through them. Though I was welcome to sit back down on my bed at any point I refused the open offer. Standing was fine. It worked and that's all that really mattered at this point.
You know what would be handy at a moment such as this? A watch. I hadn't a clue what time it was aside from when the yard bull had last come 'round. They should really have a clock in our rooms. Rooms, ha! What am I thinking? I meant to say jail cells. By the sounds of it, I'm trying to turn this place into an office space or something.
Hmm, now that I think about it, my filing cabinet would look rather pleasant resting along side the left wall accompanied by my desk...
My fingers coiled around the irksome bars as I laughed in spite of myself. Of course, it was not at my little joke. Nor the idea of transferring my office into the prison cell. It was the mer thought of a business run through prison. There were none aside from drugs deals, if you could call that a buisness...right?
Loosening my grip, I began lightly brushing my digits down a single bar, stroking it with great delicacy. Dazed, I found myself lost in thought and vacant from my body, for an idea had sparked. An unusual, odd, but possible idea. My lips curled in satisfaction.
"Breakfast, commin' get it boys."
Broken from my train of thought by the loud click produced from my cells lock, I snapped my attention to the guard who was opening it. We caught eye contact for only a moment or two, absorbing whatever it was we could from the other before tearing our glance away. I tipped my hat off to the man as I passed.
Though I'm not quite sure why, I suddenly found myself so...happy. A bird relieved to be free from his cage. Well, free for the time being -if you could call this freedom.
Digging my hands into my pockets I walked down the long hall taking my time to enjoy the open strolling space. It was at this point I realized I had absolutely no idea where I was going aside from 'for breakfast'. Thankfully it wasn't all that difficult to find a solution, for everyone else was going to the same place to fill their empty stomachs.
The climb up the stairs was murder. It was much like standing on a tight train only your legs were forced into motion to work up each step, one by one. There was a railing available to my right for support but the smell coming off the guy in front of me who was using it repelled me from touching it. It had to be decades since this man had last hopped in the shower and gave himself a thorough cleaning.
We made a sharp turn to the left where we uncluttered into an open room where I found myself standing solo along with the capability of breathing. I immediately assumed this was the cafeteria from the atmosphere surrounding me.
Filing myself into line with the other prisoners I took a tray and slid it along placing whatever the canteen had to offer, which unfortunately was not much. In the proses of reaching over to take a muffin from the beneficence pan a delinquent growled at me and snatched the one I had been reaching for.
My brow rose as I made the fact I was unimpressed by his actions obvious in my expression toward the con who said nothing and left. Looking up over canteen I took note of a large banner hanging above me. 'You'll Eat It And You'll Like It!' it read in large, bold lettering. Well they certainly made their point clear. Though I could see the inmates thought differently about the sign by throwing what looked like mashed potato's up at the banner. A piece of the white mush fell from banner landed beside my foot. Uck. I chafed and move into the eating area.
My fingers curled themselves tightly around my tray as I began my search for Leo through the mob of criminals. Lucky for me he stuck out like a soar thumb making the task a lot easier than I thought it would be.
Weaving through the other convicts I eventually reached his table and slid myself in. I sat down in front of the man placing my tray down delicately so not to startle him. He looked up at me with owl eyes, frozen in the movement of bringing the straw to his juice box to his mouth.
"M-M-MAX!"
"What is it now, Leo?" I asked with a sigh. Seeing no signs of movement from him I rolled my eyes and squeezed his juice box to get him into motion again. He came back to life with a jump looking as if he had been struck by lightning as he was sprayed with juice.
Oh boy, here we go again.
Leo began hyperventilating, the start of a monstrosity of spastic movements. If he kept this up he'd surely be seen among the other criminals as an easy target for...erm, loving. Signs of weakness was usually what caught their attention and Leo surely had the appearance. The last thing I wanted to see was little Leo be raped by another male because let's face it, a lot of ugly things happen in this prison that were not part of our sentence.
Glancing around I hissed through my teeth at the man "Calm down, your causing a scene!"
He dug his hand under the table pulling up the remains of his ever so precious blue blanket. Over the years it had been cropped down to what now looked like a baby blue handkerchief. My expression grew sour, partly disturbed while watching him intake it's smell. Talk about signs of weakness...
"Was that really necessary?" Leo asked, his blue blanket being rubbed against his chin as I offered him a napkin.
I smirked "I think so."
You know, it felt good. Good God, it felt good. Good to hear the nervousness, and that worry, the current stutter in his voice regardless how antagonized he had become by my act with his juice box... I could still feel that tingle on my hand from when we shook hands in the van. Seeing him pull out that blanket after bouncing about in his seat, feel worry for him...words cannot explain how happy I was to see his face, hear his voice and watch him along with myself experience those different behaviours in this familar situation.
There was a brief silence between us as Leo slowly placed his blanket back in his pocket.
"So, I noticed your not on my block."
Leo shook his head "Of course not, I didn't try running away. And for that reason I'm in block C with a wide variety of privileges while your surely in the basement with slim to none."
"At least I've still got my dignity." was my saucy reply which sounded like a much weaker argument than I had planned out in my head. Placing my elbow on the table I rested my chin in my hand while leaning in "Alright hot shot, you won that one but I'm betting your cell mates more messed then mine."
"I don't have a cell mate." Leo replied quietly.
"WHAT!" My elbow slid from underneath the table causing me to fall forward banging my chin on the table. I pulled myself up quickly, hands slamming against the table which was enough to make Leo draw back in fear. "What do you mean you don't have a cell mate!"
"I-I mean exactly what I said." he stuttered out.
Inhaling deeply to calm myself down I apologized to him for my sudden actions "Sorry, I over reacted there. It's just I'm stuck with this guy Philip." Placing my hand at the side of my mouth I whispered, or rather just spoke in a softer tone to him "You look into his eyes, and get the feeling someone else is driving. I mean, he has a imaginative girlfriend for Pete's sake! Talk about weird!"
"One must get lonely in prison." Leo started, taking a brief sip of what was left of his juice box as I drew back "Besides, having an imaginary friend...girlfriend is nothing out of the regular. Why I had one when I was small."
"An imaginary girlfriend?"
"No, a friend."
"You also had a chemistry set and conducted several environmentally friendly experiments on your ant farm."
He raised a brow "I've never owned a chemistry set, nor an ant farm. I've been afraid of ants since the second grade when Gorge Matheson dumped all the ants from our classrooms ant farm into my gym shorts."
"Not the point!" I snapped back, unconcerned about his story. "He assaulted me with a spoon!"
"A spoon?"
"A pointy spoon. Somehow he sharpened it and cut me with it." It wasn't until now I realized just how little I knew about my scar. How large was the cut? Was it infected? Had I bled during my sleep? My fingers traced over the scar allowing me to perceive it's length. Philip had cut me worse then I though he had. The open wound stung at my touch causing me to draw back. That might explain why Leo looked so horrified when first catching of glance of not me, but my scar.
His lips pressed tightly together forming a line. "You should get that looked at."
"It's fine." Well, at least I hoped it was fine. I never have been very fond of needles and certainly did not wish to receive any shots nor stitches any time soon regardless if the wound needed to be treated or not. Shuddering at the thought I decided to change the subject. "Breakfast must be getting cold, best not let it go to waste, hmm?"
Wearing a smile I looked down at the content of my tray. My expression grew sour. Erm...what the hell is this stuff? Seriously, it was anything but food. Glancing over at Leo it appeared he thought the very same.
The tray contained a questionable bowl of sludge, a muffin and a juice box. I saw it most fit to start with the sludge. Grasping my spoon I poked at it gently realizing it was a thick and chunky substance. It looked a lot like raw sewage, smelt an awful lot like it too. Really wouldn't surprise me if it really was scooped out of the citys sewer system.
Prodding at it a second time, a raw egg surfaced. Well there goes my appetite.
"Is that an egg?"
Leo, who had actually brought the soup into his system looked as if his eyes were about to bulge out of his scull when catching glance of the lonesome swimmer in my bowl.
"Yes, I believe it is. And I think that's a chicken leg sticking out of yours. Gee, I didn't think they made it that fresh."
Almost instantly Leo's head swung down into his bowl where he brought up the raw sewage he had digested. Slowly looking up at me still bug eyed I couldn't help but grin in satisfaction. Leo caught on immediately that the chicken leg had been nothing more then a false tale. Smart boy.
"That's not funny, Max!" he snapped through a series of coughs. He reminded me so much like a child, it was hard not to laugh at the man.
"Well I thought it was. If it makes you feel better you can have my soup."
Pushing the bowl toward him with a grin I suddenly found a force pushing it back toward me. "Max, nothing you say can convince me to eat that!"
I shrugged "Well don't say I didn't offer anything in sympathy you greedy man."
Punching a hole through my juice box with my straw I watched as Leo thoroughly inspected his muffin.
"Blueberry, my favorite!"
My brow raised at the comment while taking a sip of my orange juice. What were we in grade two comparing our school lunches and the little notes our mothers left for us inside? 'Don't forget to put on clean underwear. Love Mommy, xoxo!' I shook my head and reached for my own muffin.
Now Leo, he had his own little method for eating muffins. He dissected them with his fork and knife as if they were a science project, cleaning the crumbs that fell in the proses with his napkin. I'm quite positive he knew how rediculace this procedure of his looked from the look he was receiving from me but he continued on as if I was nonexistent.
After what felt like ten minutes of surgery on the muffin the man finally brought a piece he had cut from it into his mouth. He wore satisfactory expression, his eyes closed, savoring the taste. Smiling, Leo brought his fork down to take another 'scoop' of muffin. It was then his fork hit the table it was brought to his attention that his lunch was now gone.
His eyes immediately shot toward me accusingly, but I'm quite thankful to say I was not the culprit. I did not share glance with Leo though. I simply stared up at the man towering over him. Eventually he caught on.
"Hey!" Leo shot up like a rocket to face the thief. "That's mi-mi-..."
The prisoner who had stolen the muffin was a giant compared to my comrade. He glared down at Leo leaving him at a loss of words. His muscles twitched as if he was restraining himself from pounding the little man.
"You can have it, I'm full anyway!" he squeaked, quickly seating himself back down as if nothing had happened.
It wasn't that I found Leo's display pathetic, because I did. It was more the fact that he was capable of retrieving his muffin if he put in the effort. ...actually, no. No he couldn't.
"Give that poor excuse for a man his muffin back."
The two exchanged glances then turned their attention at me. I blinked several times in astonishment. Did...did I just say that out loud!
Apparently I had. The muffin thief now stood over me, a deep growling sound working it's way up his throat. I stood to make myself feel taller but it proved pointless in the end. What was with this prison and these 'Green Giants'? Forcing a smiling I mouthed a 'Hello' to the man.
"What if I don't want to, Pork-chops?"
It grew quite clear that it wasn't a question, it was a challenge.
"Pork-chops?" I repeated, now wearing a frown. "Did you just call me, Pork-chops?"
"Ohh, that offends you?"
"As a matter a fact it does." Moving closer toward him, I intended to prove to him that I was the threat and not him.
Mocking an apologetic look he replied "I'm sorry," his lips curled into a rather unpleasant grin of satisfaction as the last word soon followed "Lard-ball."
"Have you ever seen a fat man angry?"
There was silence between us as we awaited the other to make a first move. The giant took a step toward me, my legs snapped into motion forward making my belly bumping into the bully's chest causing him to jump back in a combination of both disgust and surprise.
I advanced on him talking another step. Another, and another, and another... My pace continued until he threw the first punch. Leaping to the right to avoiding his fist I was able to miss it just in the nick of time.
Everything suddenly appeared to slow down, time crawling past, yet rushing by during the same interval. I could see the other prisoners around us cheering, encouraging the fight as a source of entertainment, their mouths flopping up and down shouting a number of imaginable things. Only thing was, I could not hear them.
Pulling myself up from the position I had landed in, crouched down on my feet, I latched myself onto a near table to help pull myself up.
The giant's fist was thrown at me again. My hand slammed itself against the table I had been receiving aid from and grasped a lunch tray. I whipped it up to protect my face, my head tossed to the side as I waited for impact.
Without warning, time suddenly sped up on me. The roar of excitement from the surrounding prisoners filled my ears making it feel as if my ear drums were about to burst at any second from the sudden storm of excessive noise.
I looked at the tray I had been holding up in refuge to find a large hole in the middle smiling back at me. My jaw hung loosely as I imagined what his fist would have done to my face after witnessing it's effect on the lunch tray.
Knitting my blows together, I threw it at the man to helplessly watch him catch it and snap it in half using his hand. Yes, his hand. Not hands, hand.
'Max, I think we're in to deep!' the little mental Leo in my head shouted as I sprung up from the bench. Well, you know what they say; Ignorance is bliss.
Gritting my teeth I was determined to stay on my feet. This wasn't about some stupid muffin, nor about Leo. This was now my impression among the other prisoners. The current fight would rank my importance, my resources, and most importantly, my strength in this prison and I intended on them being good no matter what the cost. They didn't call me the King of Broadway for sitting around and letting the world boss me around. My fate was in my hands.
For the third time, the man's fist flew at me at a remarkable speed. I ducked down, the peach blur flying just above my head. Seeing the open opportunity to throw one back, I lept forward and uppercut the prisoner.
...ow!
What was this man made of, metal? Suppressing the urge to suck on my knuckles to ease the pain I used my other fist sending another punch at him.
Mistake number two, not blocking after I had stricken the man. The first mistake was picking a fight with Spring-Heeled Jack himself. For this, I received a painful blow to my right eye causing my to stumble back while clutching the bruised digit.
OW!
Holy mother of Joseph, that hurt!
Using the table Leo and I had been eating at for support to maintain standing, I took note of my bowl of sludge sitting in front of me and tossed at him, the sewage clothing his shirt and face. Though I could not see his face, nor hear his voice, I could tell he was growling in a accumulation of furry. The soup masking his mouth bubbled.
Regardless what I threw at him, he would be capable of overcoming the obstacle. Hell, this guy could break through a bloody wall! He was just unstoppable.
Oh boy, I was in for it now...Mother!
The hulk stomped forward, his steps loud and heavy feeling as if he was shaking the entire building with each step he took. I was running out of idea's and time to overthrow the man regardless how tough and quick witted I believed myself to be.
Slowly walking backward my eyes began to dart around the cafeteria for something, anything to help me out of this sticky situation. I was already scraping the bottom of the pot of luck to have made it this far and would need a lot more than Lady Luck to free me from this curse.
My opponent had easily caught up to me at this point, his thick, sausage like fingers curling themselves around my neck on the verge of lifting me from the ground. Giving a cough from the lack of oxygen going through my lungs my fingers shot themselves into the man eyes giving them a hard poke. He dropped me and threw his hands over his eyes, a cry of pain loud enough to belong to the great King Kong that echoed through the room.
Stroking my soar throat I found myself giving mental praise for the successes of my action.
"That's it, that's enough boys!"
A number of guards appearing from basically no where pulled themselves out from the audience filling the gap between the giant and I. I had forgotten all about the prison guards.
In the process of rubbing my neck I commented on their speed in arival "What took you so long!"
They ignored my comment slapping a pair of cuffs upon my wrists from behind my back. With a swift kick I found myself down on my knee's, furious with their treatment. By the looks of it, the muffin thief found it insulting as well. It took at least three guards to get the cuffs on him, the rest were assumingly to frightened to get near the man as remain perpetual in putting up a violent struggle, refusing to be 'taken'.
No longer the one who's life remain on the line, I suddenly realized just how truly entertaining it was to watch the man resist arrest and throw the guards around handcuffed. Well I'm glad it was no longer me out there, security was being tossed away like an old Christmas gift.
Turning my attention to and from the fight I felt a soft but effective poke against the back of my head. It was unsteady, cold, and clicked. I knew without a doubt it was a gun behind me ready to scatter my brains across the pavement at any minute.
My eyes screwed themselves shut, teeth grit tight enough to shatter. The sound of gunfire caused my heart to skip a beat and make my throat dry.
dot, dot, dot...
Popping open my eye I realized that a gun was indeed fired but was not the one currently resting against the back of my skull.
Smoke oozed out of the rifle pointed up at the ceiling, a fresh hole in it along with bits of ceiling tile resting on the hat of the guard holding the shotgun. The room became silent enough to hear breathing. Of course, I wasn't given much time to think over the proposition for as quickly as I had been brought down I was suddenly being ordered up.
"Harlson, Bialystock," On my feet I met face to face with one of the ugliest guards I had even seen. His yellow stained teeth smiling at me as he spoke. "The warden wants a word with you two..."