Short Sentences

Andy got caught. He was guilty. He wasn’t the only one. He wasn’t the most culpable. He was the most cooperative. He got six months. Four months with good behavior. It was a plea deal. He thought he got lucky. He was wrong.

Processed. Inside. Stares. Mistrust. Nick, a cellmate.

“What for?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t be dense. What you in for?”

“Oh. Malfeasance.”

“What’s that? You touchin’ kids?”

“No … no. I was an aide. Mayor’s office. I knew some stuff. I didn’t report it.”

“You rat?”

“Nah. They asked questions.”

“Bullshit. You ratted.”

“They already knew.”

“Get away from me.”

Nick was no friend. A couple of days passed. Now everyone inside knew. Andy the rat.

They were in the mess hall. Damon sat across from Andy.

“Who’d you rat on?”

“Some of the mayor’s staff.”

“What’d they do?”

“Stealing funds. Basically. It was pretty complex.”

“We don’t like rats in here. They get hurt a lot.”

Some of the inmates moved in. Damon smirked.

“You a short timer?”

Andy found his voice.

“Yeah. Maybe four months.”

“You keep your mouth shut. You do your time. Nobody’s gonna bother you.”

“Really?”

“Crooked politicians. Nobody cares. They’re taking from us anyway.”

“Yeah. That’s how I see it.”

“Don’t get cocky. You were one of them.”

“Not really. I was staff. Low man.”

“Don’t get cocky, low man.”

Andy survived. For a while. He was then transferred. Minimum security facility. Business guys. White-collar crime. Safer. Much.

He now roomed with Terry. Wall Street broker type.

“I was set up.”

“By whom?”

“My boss. He flaked out. Had my name on everything.”

“Did they indict him?”

“Nah. He fixed it nice. It all pointed to me.”

“How long?”

“Two fucking years. Sixteen months maybe.”

“It’ll pass.”

“Easy for you to say.”

They had a recreation room. And privileges. Not much bitterness. Jack was an exception.

“Hey, Andy. They put you in here?”

“Yeah. Got me too.”

“You didn’t do shit.”

“I knew. I didn’t say anything. It’s a crime.”

“You didn’t say anything?”

“I let it go on. I was culpable.”

“You certainly opened up on the stand.”

“I had to.”

“Yeah. That’s what my wife said. She left me. Took the kids.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? About my wife? Or that you’re in here?”

“Both, I guess.”

“Well, don’t cry about it. You’ll get your chance. To be sorry, I mean.”

“Is that a threat?”

“A promissory note. It sounds better.”

“I’ll report you.”

“I bet you will. So what? Nobody cares.”

Andy thought about it. Nick and Damon. Tough guys. They didn’t care. White-collar bullshit. He left them behind. For what? For the very sort he came from. The sort he had betrayed. Minimum security. Someone could get to him.

He kept his eyes open. He looked over his shoulder. He was vulnerable in the showers. He was cozy with the guards. That made it worse. He kept Jack in his sights. Whenever he could. Nothing.

Release! Back in the world. He had done time for keeping quiet. He was shunned for speaking out. He left the city he called home. He headed west. He would start anew.

He found a job. He took a wife. He surveyed the political scene. He dared not enter. He ran a convenience store. His customers liked him. He was settled.

His store was burglarized. They caught the culprits. Local boys. Tough bunch. He refused to testify.