Authors Notes: In this series, Beecher never killed Schillinger, only wounded him because I could never write a better Beecher' nemesis than Schillinger.
Cash is not allowed in the Prison. Inmates have two types of accounts, a private account and a prison earnings account.
Private account - Family and friends are able to put money into inmates' private accounts. This money can then be used for phone calls and to pay outside bills etc.
Earnings account - Inmates can earn 'wages' while they are in prison. An inmate's wage depends on the work or other activities (education/programs) they are doing while in custody.
To buy things in the prison, inmates use money from their prison accounts.
Inmates may use the money in their earnings account to buy items through the prison canteen. These include toiletries, food items, craft supplies and tobacco.
Anyone depositing money for prisoners or detainees is required to provide their full name, address and proof of identification.
Deposits are limited to $100.00 and the balance of an inmate's private money account must not exceed $300.00.
From the Department of Justice, http://www.justice.tas.gov.au/prisonservice/contacting_prisoners/depositing_money_into_inmate_accounts
The East Coast Penitentiary, March 19, 2003
Standing outside in the cool, fresh air, Toby takes a couple of deep breaths, while staring up at the sky. For a moment, just a moment, he thinks that it was worth coming to the East Coast Penitentiary, just for the chance to be outdoors. Surrounding him are his fellow inmates of Oz, and he listens, as they prattle about everything from the weather to the latest on the prison front.
“The correctional officers’ union has still too many unresolved issues; thus, none of the Oz’ C.O.s will be coming here. The East Pen will continue to be understaffed, which means there won’t be an end to this partial lock-down. But of course, Oz’ management staff and Dr. Nathan are here working.”
“Sister Pete and Father Mukada have notified the relatives of all of Oz’ inmates of our change of address and are now devoting themselves on getting us access to our prison accounts.”
“McManus is trying to get all of the Oz prisoners on one cellblock, but with the overcrowding it’s hard to shuffle anyone around, so they’re looking at transferring some of the Oz prisoners to other facilities.”
The information that some of them might be transferred has all of the Oz inmates looking over at Bob Rebadow, the person who had dropped that particular interesting tidbit.
“What?” He glances around at all the men now staring at him. “I heard it from the Man himself.”
“Who, God?” Ryan O’Reily asks, as he flicks his cigarette butt away.
“No, Warden Querns.”
Again, Rebadow causes a reaction with more groans and mutterings. None of them like the East Pen, but the unknown is even more frightening.
“Any idea who they’re going to be transferring out?” Leaned up against the fence next to Toby, Keller has a thoughtful look on his face.
“Non-violent prisoners, and prisoners, who have ten or less years to go on their sentences.”
More groans and the shuffling of feet, as O’Reily lets out a short laugh. “Who would have thought that I’d be grateful for a life plus forty sentence? Cause I sure as fuck don’t want to be transferred anywhere else.”
Snickers and snide remarks immediately burst out at O’Reily’s declaration. Everyone knows why he doesn’t want to leave.
“Nathan putting out yet?” Poet yells out, just as the horn sounds that recreational time is over.
Getting up from his seat on the bleachers, O’Reily gives him the finger, as the men slowly shuffle their way to the entrance. Each and every one of them drag their feet because being outside is something wonderful, giving them the illusion of freedom.
“Non-violent, ten years.” Keller is still pensive, as he walks alongside Toby. “You’d fit that criteria.”
“Ye-ah.” Toby considers for the first time. “The ten year stipulation, but I’m not sure about the non-violent part.”
“You have to fit both conditions, or is it an either or?” Keller asks, as he takes Toby by the arm and leads him along. The gesture is unnecessary, but he takes any and all opportunities to touch Beecher.
Toby shrugs, feigning indifference. The seed has now been planted, as his Harvard-graduate brain is turning over all the possibilities. Another prison could mean a new start, away from people, who had seen him in all his humiliating personas, away from the East Pen hell-hole, and away. . . .” He glances at the man next to him. From Chris Keller, former enemy, lover, and current daddy.
As if reading his thoughts, Keller immediately speaks. “You’d be surprised at the scope of the prison gossip-line. Doesn’t matter what prison you’re transferred to, they know your history; people you’ve killed, people you’ve fucked, your social status. You were a prag in Oz, so you’ll be a prag in any prison.”
“Really?” It occurs to Toby that Chris might be scamming him, but after a moment of consideration, he realizes that Keller’s telling the truth. “So you’re saying that if I’m transferred to another prison, I’d probably be pragged out as soon as I got there?”
“Yeah.” Keller’s eyes don’t meet Toby’s, as they are too busy surveying his surroundings, checking out the people around him. “And your new daddy might not be as considerate as I am.”
“True,” Toby agrees. “But then I could always revert to biting cocks off again.” Glancing sidewise, he suppresses an urge to grin, as Keller glares darkly at him. He may be owned but not totally.
Their walk back to their cell goes without incident, and the rest of the day drags slowly on with a few more games of gin rummy, a nap, and then lying on the bunk staring into space. Toby is so bored, he’s about ready to give his eye-teeth for a book or a pad of paper, so he could write his family, anything. It’s his family, who he thinks about constantly, since he’s has no contact with any of them since the evacuation from Oz, and he wonders how they are, especially his children.
The mail cart comes around, and to Toby’s surprise, there’s a care package for Chris, actually, three care packages for him, one from each ex-wife.
“They thought of me.” Chris is delighted, as he tears open each parcel. New underwear and socks, a toothbrush and paste, deodorant, disposal razors, pack of smokes, and a couple of smut magazines.
“How great for you,” Toby says dully, as he tries not to stare enviously at Chris’ treasure stash.
“Here.” Chris throws a new pair of boxers and clean socks at Toby. “I know you’ve been dying for some clean underwear.”
“I can have these?” Toby is more than pleased at Chris’ generosity, causing his envy to dissipate.
“Yeah, and when you get stuff from your family, you can share that with me.”
“Of course,” Toby agrees quickly, wondering if something from his family will come in the mail for him tomorrow. Hope rises in him, and for a fleeting moment he feels a small spark of happiness. Perhaps it won’t be long before he sees his children again.
**
March 24, 2003
Sitting in the corner of the infirmary, Toby is helping Sister Pete make records of every Oz inmate’s private and earnings account. Their money is now available to them, and the prison’s canteen is at their disposal. The first record he prints out is his own, and he’s dismayed to see that there’s very little in either account. It’s understandable that there is not much in his earnings account, since he and most of Oz’ prisoners have not been able to work much since the evacuation, but his family had always been faithful in depositing money in his private account three times a month.
“Hey, Beech.” O’Reily comes skidding around the corner and stops in front of him. “Got mine ready?” Word has spread quickly about their accounts, and everyone is eager to get their record, so they can finally buy some essentials.
“Hang-on.” Toby skips from the B’s to the O’s, and then scans through the list for O’Reily’s name.
“So where’s your better half?” Ryan asks, as he leans up against the wall. “Because I must say, it’s odd seeing you without him. Since we came here, it’s like the two of you have been joined at the hip.”
“Very funny.” Toby looks up with a scowl. “That kind of talk, and I won’t have your account ready until tomorrow.”
“Okay, okay.” Ryan puts his hands up in mock surrender. “But seriously, where is the K-man?”
“Visiting room, one of his ex-wives.”
“Lucky dog,” Ryan says with envy. “The blond is sure hot; wonder why he divorced her?”
“Gee, I don’t know.” Toby finds the name O’Reily and clicks on it. “Why did you divorce your wife?”
Ryan grins as he shoves his hands in his pants pockets. “Because I found someone else, but fuck, Keller didn’t know you then.”
“Yes, but he knew his other ex-wife Bonnie.” Toby pulls O’Reily’s record from the printer. “Here, and make sure you buy yourself deodorant.”
“That bad?” Ryan sniffs an armpit in jest. “No wonder Gloria has been resisting all my advances,” he jokes, as he turns to leave. “See you around, Beech. Say hi to K-man for me.”
**
“Canteen?” Keller asks, as he eyes the brown paper bag in Toby’s hands, as the prison guard opens their cell door.
“Yes.” Toby nods in agreement as he steps into their cell, spirits lifting as he sees that his other four roommates are not around. “And I’ve got your accounts record.” He hands Keller a slip of paper. He had already noted that like all of the other Oz inmates, Chris has very little in his earnings account, but his private account has the maximum allowed. Someone had made deposits for him.
Keller barely looks at the account paper before shoving it in his pants’ pocket. “That’s all you bought?” He surveys Toby’s meager purchases, just the bare necessities.
Shrugging, Toby can’t meet Keller’s eyes; he’s too humiliated, but with very little in his accounts, and no word from his family, he had to be frugal. “I’m a little short now, until my family. . . .” He trails off, not sure exactly what he wants to say, so he just shrugs again.
“I can front you some money, if you need it.” Keller frowns, as he watches Toby carefully put away his newly bought toothbrush, disposal razors, and deodorant in their footlocker.
“Nah.” Toby shakes his head in the negative. “I’m sure my family will be depositing money soon. They probably just stopped temporarily, when they heard that Oz had been evacuated.”
“So you pay me back then.” Keller leans up against their bunk, arms stretched out on the top bed. “No big deal.”
“Nah,” Toby refuses the offer with another shake of the head. “I’m sure I’ll be hearing something soon, perhaps tomorrow.” Refusing to look up, he’s too mortified to appreciate Keller’s generous offer.
“Alright then, but will you accept this?”
Looking up, Toby sees Chris pull out something from his back pocket and hold it out to him. It’s a paperback book.
Toby can only stare for a moment, as delight fills him. Something to read! Taking the book carefully, he finally looks Keller in the eye, but as usual he finds it hard to decipher the other man. The considerate gesture reminds him of the Keller of old, the one, who professed over and over how much he loved him.
“Thank you,” Toby says awkwardly, but sincerely. “How’d you manage to buy it without your prison account record?”
“Didn’t buy it, dealt for it.”
“Dealt for it? What did you use for trade?’
“One of my magazines.” Keller gives Toby a wink. “I had two, so one was expendable.”
**
March 26, 2003
Standing in the long dinner line, Toby is pondering how adaptable the human is, when given no choice. Five years ago upon entering Oz, he had been sure he would never survive there. Not only did he survive, but he adapted to the point where he became one of them, a drugged out, cold-blooded murderer. A fact which still has him squirming with guilt and remorse. And now? He looks around the huge cafeteria of the East Coast Pen and realizes that once again, he has adapted, adapted to a place, which had horrified and frightened him, but its brutality has dulled in its monotonous routine.
“You okay?” A finger pokes him in the back, as Keller has decided that Toby’s been quiet for too long.
“I’m fine,” he lies, as he turns his head to stare at Keller. Almost two weeks here and he still has not heard a peep from any of his family.
“Maybe they went on vacation, out of the country and haven’t heard that you’ve been transferred here.” Keller is no fool; he knows Toby has been brooding about his family.
“No, because even if my mother took the kids away, my brother Angus would still be around, school year, you know.”
“He’s still in school?” Keller bumped Toby in the back with his groin.
Turning away, Toby does an eye roll, deliberately ignoring Keller’s suggestive gesture. The man was never satisfied.
“Well, well, well.” A familiar voice interrupts their games. “Bitcher and Chrissy, two of my favorite prags.” Vernon Schillinger, leader of the Aryans in Oz, and just released from Benchley Memorial, where he had been recovering from a knife wound to the stomach. Leaning closer to Toby, he whispers a threat, “you’re a dead man, Beecher.”
His mouth responds before his good sense can kick in, as Toby immediately replies, “Like I haven’t heard that before.”
Taken aback for just a second at Toby’s response, Vern can only stare, but quickly recovers, as he leans even closer, so they’re nose to nose. “You’ve fucked with me one too many times, Beecher.”
“That’s enough.” Keller gives Schillinger a hard push. “Stay away from him, Vern, or I’ll have to. . . .”
“Have to what?” Vern directs his attention to Keller. “I’ve heard that you’re making yourself out as a daddy now. Think you’ve graduated to the big boys?”
“Graduated and surpassed the master.” Keller grins cockily. “And if the master touches what’s mine, then I’ll have to take care of the master.”
“Big talk, Chrissy.” Seeing an officer headed their way, Vern turns to leave. “Let’s see if you can back it up.”
“Anytime you want, day or night, baby.” Keller continues to grin, but his eyes are hauntingly intense.
“Fuck!” Hands on the counter, Toby braces himself, as he finds himself trembling. Schillinger has returned and even though the stabbing was officially ruled an accident, he’s out for revenge. Or more revenge, Toby corrects himself. He and Schillinger have been circling each other for years.
“Hey.” A large hand presses down on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about that fuck. I won’t let him hurt you.”
“My family, my kids.” Toby starts to breath heavily. “He’s going to go after them again. I’ve got to warn them, but I’ve not been able to use the phones. Seems like here in the East Pen, they’re owned by the Homeboys.”
“Come on.” Keller grabs Toby by the arm. “I’m going to call in a couple of favors. You’ll be talking to someone in your family before the dinner hour is over.”
**
Sitting on top of their footlocker at the end of their bunk, Toby stares out at the other cells surrounding him. Stares, but does not see, as he listens to the conversation he had with his brother Angus play over and over in his head.
“Toby.” A foot nudges him, alerting him to the fact that Mad Dog Mack and his crew have arrived. He’s greeted by leers and the licking of lips, an occurrence that happens daily, but still unsettles him. Grabbing his book, he climbs over Keller to his usual spot, bottom bunk pressed between the cell bars and Chris’ big body. Opening his book, he now stares at the printed pages, but does not see them.
“Tobe.” Keller nudges him again, but this time with an elbow. “Just because your family is starting legal proceedings to take away your children doesn’t mean shit. Get yourself a lawyer and fight it. Now I don’t know fuck about parental rights and crap, but you’re the father; they can’t just. . . .”
“It’s for the best,” Toby says with resignation. “I’m a shit father; I was a shit husband, and now. . .well, my family and Gen’s family will take Holly and Harry far way, where Shillinger can’t get to them.”
“Fine,” Keller continues to argue. “They take them away for a while, but your parental rights don’t have to be terminated to do that.”
“Chris.” Toby’s head begins to throb. He doesn’t want to be discussing his family and what he had found out from his brother. “Let’s just drop it, okay?”
But Keller is in the mood to argue. “And if your kid brother is blackmailing you by withholding your money, I’ll lend you. . . .”
“Chris,” Toby interrupts, voice raised. “I don’t want to talk about it now.”
“Okay.” Keller shrugs with an air of indifference, as he picks up his smut magazine and begins to flip through the pages.
Closing his eyes, Toby lies his head down, and tries to will away the on-coming headache. He realizes that Keller only wants to help, and that his response was far from gracious. “Hey.” This time it’s him that doing the elbow nudging. “Thanks for helping me to use a phone. Guess I’d be fucked without you and your connections.”
“It was nothing.” Keller doesn’t bother to look up from his magazine. “I was just keeping my promise to keep you and your family safe.”
Toby nods slightly, as he opens his book again and tries to focus on the printed pages. A few minutes pass, and then there’s a whisper in his ear, “I’m keeping my promise, so just make sure you remember yours.” Turning his head, he looks into Keller’s face, as he hears another whisper. “You’re mine, baby.”
****