C19 Pablo

It was raining that night. And I hated rain with all my strength. All the worst things that happened in my life were done during the rainy nights. In the month of March, it was too much to ask for a night without rain, so I had to settle for always waiting for the worst, and keep thinking about it until the other day came up and nothing happened.

During that night's dinner, there were no major problems inside the cafeteria. It was common for my prison colleagues to use the last moment outside their cells to plot. In the cafeteria, we had a minimum of freedom, since the guards were far away or on the upper mezzanine that we had to go down to get to the tables. And even I noticed that the gang leaders were too calm, even beyond the account.

"Some shit will happen," said Ramirez, besen with all the silence.

Outside, in the normal world, thunder sounded. I tried not to cringe, not to absorb the sound that reverberated over the entire table, but some of the men grumbled that they hated rains, and I was a little relieved not to have to hide that dread. I could live for years with murderers, crazy people, and psychopaths, but I couldn't spend more than ten minutes under the heavy rain. I was really a joke.

" Novelty" grumbled Afonso, scratching the back of his neck. "I bet the guards will leave some more open cells at night. They have been doing this very often. You should be careful.”

"No one would dare to enter my cell with my guard dog," said Ramirez, casting a sharp look at me. In response, I raised my middle finger to him. The man laughed. "I'm serious, Pablo, you have more respect inside here than I do. And look, there are many years of difference between our feathers, and for the reason for them as well.

"I think the gang leaders just don't mess with you because they fear that Pablo's lack of condemnation is linked to some powerful boss out there," said Alefe, without containing the tone of his own voice, and calling the attention of the entire table. I was quiet and motionless. "And I'm not going to lie, I also think the same way, sorry PS.”

I shrugged.

"I don't want to talk about this subject.”

"You never want to," sighed Ramirez, rolling his eyes. Then he threw a look over his shoulder, observing us again. "My impression is that there will be movie night today.”

"It's not even Wednesday," Alefe said in an ignorant tone. "For me, they're just acting like this to make us besy.”

I also doubted the movie night. Even because it wasn't really a movie night and it didn't even happen every week. Sometimes, usually once every two months, we were gathered in a large, closed room, where we watched a movie thanks to the projector. Most of the time, almost always, I slept in the middle of each movie and didn't remember anything when I woke up. All I knew was that I hated those sessions with all my strength.

Bringing together all those men, even rival members of factions, always ended in the worst possible way. The fact that we fed together, sunbathe, and even bathed with soap and water, did not mean that for any other task we would be more open. There was always that strange atmosphere hovering in the air, and the hours of movies never seemed to end, making everyone even more tense.

There were at least two times that an inmate was killed during a movie session. Of course, the fact that both were pedophiles and that the guards deliberately let everything happen while watching the door, was a decisive factor. Even so, most of those who didn't get along with any gang "including myself" had serious problems trusting those sessions.

The only way not to participate was to be arrested in solitary confinement "which almost never happened, because as it was the place of greatest security in the prison, the guards avoided locking us there to have some guarantee that we would wake up dead as soon as possible", or being part of some preparation in the kitchen. I had a certain priority to miss those sessions, and I did my best to make it happen.

That night, however, there was nothing to be done in the kitchen. The mood in the cafeteria was so palpable that it could be cut with a knife. The gang leaders were silent, leaving their faction members talking by the elbows. The guards had that little smile of those who wait for the death of the other. And I could only think of the damn rain outside.

"Not being a certain death for everyone, I won't worry," said Ramirez, shrugging. "It's not long before my sentence ends. I can't wait to be far away from here and with my family.”

"Some have this privilege," Alefe commented in a sad tone. I never asked about his family, just as he never asked about mine. I knew he didn't receive visitors, but that didn't mean much. He jumped on the chair when lightning cut through the sky and thundered on the prison walls. "Fow rain.”

" Why do I have the impression that it doesn't rain this way in other parts of the city? "I reflected in a murmured tone.

"Impossible," said Ramirez, an unbeliever. "Rain falls all the city when they happen.”

"Everything in this prison is different," I commented with a shrug. "I wouldn't be impressed at this rain being just a bad donut of what we will receive later.”

However, that night, after dinner, something really happened. I was already lying on my bunk bed, watching the concrete of the wall next to me and dying of cold, when a guard hit something sharp on the bars of my cell.

"Come on, girls, we have a little surprise for you," called the man, giving a mean laugh. Afonso got out of bed, and I got up to face the guard. "Are you taking a shower today? We don't want to scare the girls.”

When he talked about girls he could only be referring to the prostitutes that the gang leaders could take inside every fortnight. It was the only method of relief we had, although I never got carried away by those who insisted on penetrative sex.

One of the biggest fears of my life was related to STDs, and not all those women used condoms or other contraceptive methods. We used to, because the prison director did not even dream of the idea of having to explain pregnant prostitutes of his inmates, considering that he was also one of those who benefited from them.

"Is there a party? " Ramirez asked, cautious.

Although it was common for women to enter for intimate and frequent visits, it was very unusual for all of us to be included in the party. There was a time when a single prostitute had sex with more than ten men from a single cell, and that gave enough problems that the act was never repeated.

So the leaders kept the women just for themselves, or drew a few of their gang to take advantage. I was always included in the draw, but I never did anything other than get a blowjob and sleep for the rest of the night, even listening to the women's moans until dawn.

It wasn't beautiful at all. It wasn't nice at all. I always knew that women were well received. They were beautiful prostitutes, but nothing like the luxury escorts I knew in the big city. Those who were taken to prison usually belonged to some community, some corner.