Chapter Two

Black Pearls

Richard receives little sleep that night. He wakes up feeling worse. His head is pounding from the creaking prison. That's something he'll have to get used to.

He sits up in his bed and rubs his face. At least the prison isn't cold and it's not too hot either. Kind of like that golden girl with the three bears. Everything is just right. What's that story called again? It'll come to him.

With lack of clocks in the cell, he doesn't know what time it is. He doesn't even know what woke him up. Best to try and get a little more sleep before morning.

"Richard?" a small voice whispers. "Are you awake?"

Richard groans and rubs the bridge of his nose. There go his hopes for more sleep. "Yes, Peter, I am." He climbs on down from his bed and sits down on the bottom bunk. A little bit of light still seeps in from the barred cell door so they don't have to turn on the light.

"Something wrong?" he asks.

Peter bites his lip before answering. "I'm scared." He wipes his nose with the back of his hand.

"We're all scared sometimes. It'll be okay."

Peter sniffles. "Everything about this place scares me. The sounds, the feel of it." He shudders. "I'd rather be in a Topside reformatory."

"I say that this is the best place I've ever been in," says Richard. "Just give this place a try. It's not as crowded as the place I grew up in."

"Where'd you grow up?"

"In one of those Commonwealth boarding homes. I was always moved around from place to place and there were too many kids. There was never enough space. What about you, Peter? Where did you grow up?"

Peter shifts uncomfortably. "I was on the street for the past couple of years. Ran away from my home."

"Why'd you run?" he asks.

"My uncle was a drunk," answers Peter and rubs one of his arms. "I guess that's pretty self-explanatory."

"No parents?"

Peter shakes his head. "Never knew 'em. I've been living with my uncle since I could remember."

"So you're an orphan," Richard says quietly. "Just like me. I never knew my parents all that well either. They died a long time ago. Did you have any other family members that could've taken care of you? Older siblings?"

Peter shakes his head. "It's only been me and him. I never knew if I had any other family members. If I did, I doubt that I would've been living with him."

"Is that what you're scared about? That your uncle will find you?"

Peter shrugs sheepishly. "Just nightmares, I guess."

"Is that all then?"

Peter nods and settles back down on his bed. Richard smiles and climbs back up to his own bed.

"Hey, Richard," Peter calls out.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

Richard pulls the blankets up. "No problem." He listens to Peter's breathing go deeper and slower. Soon the boy is asleep while Richard continues to lie on his bed. He knows he should at least try and get some sleep but he can't. He'll probably be able to catch up on it tomorrow, assuming he'll be locked up all day long. With this being his first time in a prison, it's going to take some getting used to. The whole schedule of it just seems so weird. Peter is right. This prison has a different feel to it and it doesn't feel good. Maybe it's the being underwater thing that gives off an odd feel. That's probably it.

One of the guards stalks past his cell and bangs on the cell door with his truncheon. "Ten minutes till breakfast, boys," he bellows. "Make your beds and get ready."

"No one ordered a wakeup call," Richard says. "And why do you care if we make our beds or not?"

"You're askin' for a tazing, boy," the guard retorts. "Now, move it."

The guard doesn't move until Richard climbs down from his bed and flicks on the light. The guard eventually moves onto the next cell.

"Time to get up, Peter," he says and gently shakes his cell mate. "Breakfast in ten."

Peter gets out of his bed. "Why are you making your bed?" he asks. "It's not like the guards will care."

"Apparently they do," he says. "Otherwise I wouldn't be making my bed." He does a messy job of making the bed. Quick and efficient is the way he likes it. The guard returns and inspects their handiwork. He shakes his head and tells them to do a neater job. Richard rolls his eyes and tucks in the corners. The guard finally lets them out.

Breakfast is a simple meal of cold cereal and juice. The servings are generous so Richard knows he won't go hungry. Peter even puts in an effort to eat more of his meal. He looks a little better this morning than last night. Probably just nerves from sleeping in a strange place.

After breakfast, the guards hustle the inmates towards the area of the subs, where all the dive equipment is kept. The guards have the boys sit down on the benches surrounding the perimeter of the dive room.

"All right, you little brats," the Warden shouts. "If you haven't guessed yet, this place is the dive room. Every day, twice a day after breakfast and lunch you will come directly here. You will suit up in your own custom dive suit. From there you'll go outside the prison and pan for manganese nodules, or black pearls." The Warden continues to explain everything about the process of panning for black pearls. "They are deep down in muck," he explains. "You have to scoop the muck into a sifter which will already be out there for you. Once you find a black pearl, they will look like one of these here." He holds up two black objects no bigger than small, skipping stones. One is smooth and the other is rough. "Once found, stick them into the sacks that you will have attached to your dive belt.

"Next is the dive gear. You will all find out that you have a small locker with your name on it. Inside you will find a dive suit and a dive helmet. Take off your prison jumper before you suit up into the dive suit. You will also find a pair of dive gloves and dive boots. Don't forget about those. Next is your dive helmet." The Warden picks a spare up. "Your crown lights are very important. You'll be able to turn them on just by tapping this little spot right here. Tap it again it will go brighter, tap it again it goes onto the brightest setting. Tap it once more time and the lights will shut off completely.

"Most importantly is the Liquigen." He picks up a package filled with a green substance. "This is what will keep you alive while out there. Snap it on the bottom of your helmet and then bite onto this tube here and suck in the Liquigen. Now it's vital for you to suck it in all the way to cover your lungs completely. If you don't, well you won't last long out there. Any questions?" None of the boys raises their hands. "Good. Now gear up."

Richard stands up and finds the locker with his name on it. He opens it up and finds everything the Warden said he would find. He strips himself of his prison jumper and slips into the close fitting dive suit. He snaps up the front of it and pulls on his dive boots and gloves. He finds a dive belt in the bottom of the locker and buckles it around his waist. He tosses his orange prison jumper to the locker and takes out his dive helmet. He closes the locker door and takes one of the green packages from a slot in the wall before snapping it into place just inside his dive suit. One of the guards hands him a black bag with a rope and a clip. He takes it and hooks the clip onto his dive belt.

Richard stands on the edge of the pool of water – or as the guards call it a moon pool- and snaps on his helmet before biting down on the tube of Liquigen. He sucks in deeply, feeling the green liquid slide down into his lungs. It has a terrible taste to it but he can't complain. This stuff is supposed to keep him alive while panning.

Just before he jumps into the water, a guard comes up behind him and locks a set of shackles around his ankles. He looks down at them. A really long chain is set between the cuffs. He looks at the guard.

"You didn't expect to be swimming around all free and easy did you?" the guard says and moves onto the next boy.

He double checks his helmet and jumps into the moon pool. He slowly sinks to the ocean floor and scrambles to turn on his crown lights. He taps his helmet until the lights are on full blast. It's silent. Just from a few seconds in the ocean, he realizes how much he misses the quietness of it all. All his life has been noisy and crowded. Now there's nothing but him and the open expanse of ocean.

More inmates sink down beside him, all wearing shackles around their ankles. Richard starts to wade his way through the water to where several guards are already stationed, all armed with harpoon guns and shock prods. He looks down at his feet, trying not to trip over his shackles.

He slowly swims up to the guards. They give him a shovel that is specially designed for underwater use. He trudges towards the black muck and sinks knee deep into the gunk. The sifters are set up beside the muck. He takes the shovel in his hands and scoops up his first batch of muck. It's a pitiful half shovel full but if he continues this twice a day, it won't be long before all of this muck is gone.

He dumps the muck into the sifter and goes back for another scoop of muck. Once the shifter is full, he pulls the lever and begins to rock it back and forth, back and forth until he comes upon… nothing. No black pearls, not even a rock. He picks up his shovel and stumbles his way back to the muck for another try. He continues to come up with nothing.

After an hour of this, Richard realizes that he hates panning for black pearls. His back is sore and stiff, he feels cold and compressed from the water, and he's extremely frustrated. Panning for black pearls is one of the worst things the Warden could probably make them do. Then he finds his first black pearl. It's round and smooth, just like one of the Warden's examples. It is small though. No larger than a common daddy long leg spider but it's a start. He drops it into the bag hooked to his waist and starts up the process all over again.

Slowly his bag begins to fill and grow heavier. His back will probably have a permanent hunch and his hands are sore and stiff. It isn't worth it for a few measly black pearls.

A voice speaks in the helmet. Richard assumes some sort of radio transmitter is inside. It's the Warden. He says it's time to come in. He looks from side to side and sees all the other boys leave their shovels and wade towards the moon pool. He rests the shovel against the sifter and slowly swims and trips his way to the moon pool. He jumps and kicks upward to grab the edge of the moon pool and haul himself up the rest of the way.

He collapses onto the edge of the moon pool and pulls his bag up. He snaps off his helmet and starts to cough up the Liquigen.

"Don't hack it up," one of the guards says. "It's hard on the lungs if you do. Breathe in and let it evaporate."

Richard breathes in and feels his lungs clear up. He drags himself towards a bench and sits on it. The other boys all do the same. A couple of guards walk past, collecting bags from the boys and take them away to a back room.

"Alright, boys," the Warden bellows. "You get a half hour break before you go out again. Get some lunch and do whatever the heck you want."

Richard stands on wobbly legs and walks towards his locker. He takes off all the dive equipment and pulls on his prison jumper, socks, and shoes. He stuffs his gear into his locker and walks towards the cafeteria to receive what he hopes to be a good meal.

Peter slumps down beside him at their table and looks down at his meal of tuna fish salad, some bread with butter, and a carton of milk. "I hate panning already," he says and awkwardly grasps his fork with red and raw hands.

Richard doesn't say anything and looks down at his own hands which are already starting to form blisters. "I've got three blisters already and the day isn't even over yet," he says and softly touches the forming blisters. "They'll be bleeding by the end of the day. I guarantee you that."

"If we're going to be panning every day, I don't think I'll last very long."

"You'll probably get used to it."

"I don't want to," Peter mumbles and turns back to his meal.

After lunch there was enough time for a short nap before going out again. Richard hopes that he will at least get a little bit of sleep but it's useless. All he can do is stare up at the ceiling and wish for sleep. He rolls onto his side and stares at the picture of Gemma. How is she doing without him? He always told her to stay strong and be tough. That way you'll make it out in the big world. She's independent enough to make it without him but still. What is she tries to go after him and ends up in a prison like his? What if he messed her up beyond repair? He did teach her how to pickpocket and some nasty swear words that probably shouldn't have come out. Not many good life skills there.

He takes his hand curls his finger to make a fist. Stay strong, he says and brings the fist over his heart. Know that I love you. Something he would always tell Gemma before lights out. He only wishes that she was there to tell him the same.