Rikers High by Paul Volponi

It was like spending the day at the movies, and dudes were willing to do anything for a seat.
    Both Dawson and Arrigo had the day off, so Officer Carter, the dude who’d used his money as a napkin to taunt us, was running the show with a woman CO who looked like she’d stepped out of a beauty parlor.
    She had long nails and big hair, and spent most of her time on the phone. And I could tell right away that she thought that she was better than us.
    â€œI don’t want to hear a thing out of your mouths that doesn’t start with ‘Excuse me, officer,’ ” she told us.
    Kids were scared of Carter and wouldn’t jump between rooms. They didn’t want to risk getting thrown on the wall and kicked in the ass. Instead, they put pressure on Mr. Rowe to take them with him. He’d push the VCR through the hall, and dudes would bang on the windows and come to the doors begging to go along.
    Please, Mr. Rowe. I’m your best student.
    You promised me last time, remember?
    This is my last day. I’m getting shipped upstate .
    Carter would karate-kick every door that cracked open when someone tried to peek at what was going on, and he almost took some kid’s nose off when one slammed shut.
    Then two quiet kids who mostly got herbed by everybody else started a fight over the last seat in Demarco’s room.
    Dudes put a battery in one of their backs, saying, “If you fold up to that little shit, you really are a herb.”
    The two kids both took boxing stances with a pencil in each fist, the points sticking out. Dudes were standing on their chairs cheering like they had front-row seats at Madison Square Garden. But the two kids only danced around each other for a while.
    â€œKeep dreaming, sweethearts,” mocked Carter, as he dragged them both by the collar into the hall.
    They sat crying on the floor after Carter threatened to write them up and ship them off to the main building.
    The Sprungs housed lots of kids charged with petty bullshit. If your classification was too high and you were looking at something like a murder charge or armed robbery, you had to live in the main building. I guess Corrections figured that being outside so close to the fence and bay would tempt dudes facing big time.
    So when a kid fucked up in the Sprungs, all a CO had to do was threaten to ship his ass to the building. They’d get all scared and turn to jelly. That’s why it was easy for a thug like Brick to push these kids around.
    I had a low classification, but got sent to Mod-3 in the main anyway. I had to put up with more shit from real thugs, but I got off that scared routine pretty quick.
    Carter went on break and a big CO I recognized from the building held down his spot. Kids like to always know which COs are on duty. This way they can figure out what they can get away with, and what games to play.
    Now both COs were just covering other posts. Neither of them knew what classrooms kids belonged to, and we started to bounce between rooms like a herd of kangaroos.
    That big CO must have been doing overtime off the midnight tour. He was sound asleep at the desk when Murray stepped into the hallway.
    â€œOfficer, I want you to remove this miscreant from my classroom,” announced Murray, pointing to Shaky.
    The woman CO went over to Murray’s door and told Shaky to step out. But Shaky tried to play her off and wouldn’t even get out of his seat.
    â€œMaybe you don’t listen to your mother, but you’ll listen to me!” she went off, pulling Shaky out of Murray’s room by his shirtsleeve.
    Then she told him to get on the wall, and he finally did after walking around the hall for a while. She cursed his mother for not listening right away, and he cursed hers back.
    â€œWhat did you say to me?” she screamed.
    â€œI said, ‘ Your mother.’”
    The big man raised his head from the desk and hollered, “Watch your mouth, son. If I have to get up,