Here’s today’s second post. It’s another dialogue heavy piece, as you can see. I’ve been trying different things with my dialogue; trying to get the cadence right, I suppose.
* * * * *
“Let me ask Davis.” Jones told Meeks as he stepped towards the CO.
Meeks swept his hand out. “No, you can’t do that–Davis don’t count.”
“Why the hell not?”
“‘Cause he don’t do what we do. He don’t live in our world.”
CO Davis spoke up. “I can imagine it, can’t I?”
“No, that ain’t what I mean. A dude can’t go askin’ a law abiding citizen about snitching, ’cause it’s okay for them to snitch; they follow their own code. But when you be committing crimes, you go by a different code, and snitchin’ ain’t cool. You don’t snitch.”
Jones’ bunkie, Graham, weighed in with his usual wisdom as he walked by, “Hell no. You do…you a punk.” He continued on his way towards the showers.
CO Davis leaned back in his chair, springs popping, and set his feet on the filing cabinet. “Meeks, lemme tell you something. There ain’t no code. I seen it a hundred times. A man gets busted and he’s gonna take you down with him–or instead’a him–and protect his own ass. There ain’t no code, it’s every convict for himself.”
Meeks shook his head with a knowing smile. “Trust me, CO, you don’t know. There’s a code.”
Davis continued. “Now, I can see…like the Mafia, they’re organized. If you f**k up, they’ve got real rules with a real set of consequences. But there’s all kinds a people out there committing all kinds of crimes–I mean, who sets up the rules? Who goes to the meetings? No, there ain’t no honor among thieves. It’s a myth. It ain’t true.”
“It should be.”
“Yeah, in a perfect world, maybe. But look around, Meeks, it ain’t perfect.”
“Back in the day, it wasn’t like that,” Jones piped in, “now kids are taught to tell on ey’body.”
“Good. If kids are taught to snitch instead of committing crimes, then maybe the jails would be emptier.”
“Then you’d be out of a job,” Meeks said.
“Hell, I retire in two years anyway.”
∞
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