One, two, three, four, five.
From the vantage point of his cell doorway on the ground floor, Jack counted the new inmates waiting at the block’s ‘check-in’ desk and became visibly dismayed. Everyone on Cell Block B knew that there were six cells with only a single occupant, including Jack’s. Now it looked like he’d have to share.
He’d been dreading this moment. As a skinny young hippie who had ‘TARGET’ written on his back and ‘VICTIM’ slapped across his forehead, he was surprised he’d lasted a whole week unscathed. Jack knew that having a cellmate could change all that as he assessed the candidates.
First was Solicitor Vibe, a middle aged man. He’d just finished his processing at the desk and was heading down the corridor in Jack’s direction.
Second up was Chav, a young lad roughly the same age as Jack. Even dressed in prison gear, one look at his cocky face and style of hair gave the game away.
Third came Oriental, in his mid-thirties with a friendly face.
Fourth was OAP, a mountain of a man with no hair on top but plenty around face and chin.
Last for consideration was Hippie, a middle aged dude with long hair.
Solicitor Vibe was walking down the hall and getting closer. Feeling it would be awkward to meet his new padmate in the doorway, Jack got on the top bunk and considered his options while he waited. Based on first appearances, he made a list of most desirable cell mates:
Oriental
Hippie
Solicitor Vibe
OAP
Chav
He considered the first three to be the most desirable, thinking they would be less likely to bully him around and might even enhance his time in prison. All three looked smart and had some years on Jack so they’d be bound to teach him a thing or two. For the oriental, Jack might even be able to learn a new language.
Solicitor Vibe got ever closer, then walked straight past Jack’s cell, head stooped and shoulders hunched.
“Oh well, still 50/50 odds,” Jack thought and waited for the next applicant.
Next up was Chav, who stopped at Jack’s cell briefly to have a good nosey, then swaggered along to his new cell as Jack felt a huge sense of relief.
“Odds are back in my favour,” Jack thought as he waited for the Oriental, unconsciously crossing his fingers as he waited. He was feeling good, riding a wave of optimism.
The Oriental shuffled past Jack’s door and Jack crashed back to reality, a feeling or nervous anticipation returned.
“Back to 50/50, who’s it gonna be, the OAP or the Hippie?”
The OAP slowly lumbered past Jack’s cell, seeming to momentarily block out the light coming in from the courtyard and causing Jack’s cell to momentarily fall into darkness before all was bright again.
“Hippie it is. Second choice. Can’t complain about that.” Jack thought as he speculated on who the middle aged hippie was and what he was in for. “If lucky, he might be in for growing weed too and we’ll have loads to talk about. I bet he’s into chess too…”
Jack’s thoughts were put on hold when the middle aged hippie walked straight past his cell door. His confusion turned to delight as he quickly made another list of potential cellmates:
No one
Jack was positively buzzing. “This calls for a cup of tea,” he thought as he considered the relative bliss of being by himself for another week, safe in his cell and free from constant bullying. He swung his legs over the bunk and was just about to jump down when darkness descended on the room.
Looking up, Jack saw that the OAP had returned. He was standing in the doorway, his frame filling the door and blocking out all the natural light save for the trickle that managed to enter around the edges of his body.
It hadn’t been so obvious from a distance but up close it was plain to see that he was enormous, easily taller than the 6’ 5’’ door frame, causing him to stoop, and almost as wide as the door. He must’ve weighed 250lb. As Jack sat frozen to the spot, legs dangling off the bunk. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, the huge silhouette started to slowly reveal the giant’s features.
He had a round head, completely bald with a wrinkled forehead and folds of his neck visible from the front that made his ears appear small and sunken. Deep set eyes were buried behind thick wiry eyebrows and swollen cheeks. Under his white beard and moustache, was what might have been a hint of a sneer.
He snooped further as he took a stride forward and entered, allowing the light to once more return to the room. His expressionless face looked menacing as his beady eyes scoured the cell before coming to a stop on Jack.
As though frozen in headlights, Jack wanted to jump off the top bunk before he was made to give it up but he couldn’t move. He sat there, body motionless as the cogs in his mind went into overdrive and imagined the hell that this monster of a man was about to endure him to for the next however many years.
After an eternity, the new cellmate spoke, “Well it looks like I’m on the bottom bunk, makes sense really when you look at the size of me. The name’s Ernest,” the Giant said as he extended his tennis racquet sized hand, “What’s yours and what you in for?”
“Jack, got five years for growing. What about you?”
“Me?” Ernest asked as a sly grin formed on his face that melted any fear or uncertainty that Jack previously held. He looked around as though to make sure no one was listening, “I’m in here because my pension is not enough to keep me warm and fed. So you could say I’m in here for the central heating and three square meals. Put the kettle on mate and break open that pack of digestives, I’ll reimburse you later.”