Pride Will Always Refuse Love

Previously on Bad Blood Bandits: After snooping around Grant’s room due to boredom induced by an absentee Charlie, Jackson had found a still. Grant caught the snoop and the two struck up an uneasy partnership.

Grant had come from a long line of moonshiners so there was a perfectly good reason for him to remember the name of Eliot Ness. During Prohibition, his family kept mostly to themselves (Their mistrust of the Irish went back as far back as the Old Country) and so avoided the unwanted attention of the FBI.

It was Josh, the new attendant, whom Grant and his newfound partner had to avoid now. Avoiding attention was much easier when the guards genuinely didn’t care any more than they had to in order to avoid getting in trouble with The Warden but this one needed skill at avoiding authority. Jackson, having spent years around Charlie, was well-versed in the art.

The pair had only one insight about Josh: that he cared- or at least pretended to care for some sick reason- about all residents, or “raisins” as they were called by the other guards (attendants). He would spend his breaks listening to their stories or passing out what little mail the residents received. They usually only had mailers or credit card offers but even so, it had become an unspoken competition between them to see who had the most mail because somewhere in their decaying minds the idea that mail equals love or at least a demand for attention and, even if it was a credit card company, someone in the world wanted them for something.

The problem for Jackson and Grant was that, with all the attention Josh was giving the “raisins”,he would even sit down at each of the tables and talk with them and if he didn’t have a chance to talk with everybody, he would walk them to their room (something Grant found out the hard way when he tried to avoid him the whole meal and ended up with Josh almost in his room) so it had become harder to sneak fruit back to the room without him noticing, much less using it as the subject of a poor attempt at conversation. He could tell that these two wanted nothing to do with conversation and he had heard so much about Jackson and Charlie. With Charlie gone hermit, Jackson was his only victim of curious and awkward conversation.

What made Josh even more desperate was their constant evasion of him. They were like the one sheep worth leaving the other flock. Nothing makes someone more desperate to give love than someone who will not receive it.

This, the two bootleggers discovered, could be used to their advantage. It was agreed that one of them would distract Josh with some bogus story about their past. They were careful to keep playing hard to get with him to keep him interested so the other could sneak out to the still with what ever fruit or sugar they needed for their science project.

It worked well until one day, Josh confided in Jackson. “I think your friend Charlie might be making alcohol in his room.”
Tune in next week for some good old-fashioned backstabbing…
…or maybe even just regular stabbing!

The Proper Use Of Gunpowder

Previously on Bad Blood Bandits: Jackson, worried that his son might be leaving his wife went to the Warden armed with vodka to extract information since it was she who had the conversation with his son in the first place. We learned that his son was not leaving his wife but rather that he was an ass. We did not learn what Charlie was doing to distract the guards to enable Jackson to have this little chat and that is why we are here today…

 

Finale of Our Father’s Sons

…After getting the information he needed from the Warden, Jackson waited for her to descend into a drunken stupor slip out of the office. As much as a relief as the slight truce was, he would have preferred not to spend any more time with her than he had to.

Charlie, on the other hand, had been quite enjoying himself. Having acquired an assortment of party poppers, he’d distributed them to the vegetables (the residents of the home who were losing their minds in one way or another) and since each one discovered what the string was for, the guards were quite occupied by the sporadic pops and showers of confetti.

Jackson found the old trickster in what was at one time a somewhat comfortable chair in the corner of the common area from where he could enjoy his handiwork; his face glowing with accomplished contentment.

“Considerate of you to include the vegetables.”Jackson said after he had lowered himself to a wooden chair.

“Hmm?” Charlie turned to Jackson as if he were distracting him. “Oh, well all they need is a little opportunity.”

“You still have some on you?” Jackson nodded to a vegetable whose party popper had somehow avoided confiscation.

“Yeah, have at it.” Charlie dumped the remaining few in Jackson’s lap

“I’ll hide these before they start looking for the source.” Jackson discreetly stashed them in his pockets and raised himself out of his chair.

“Suit yourself.”

It wouldn’t be safe to say that Jackson was particularly happy. However, after witnessing Charlie at his best and hearing that Genevieve, one of the few bright lights in his sons life, was not being forced out of it he did feel a measure of peace.

The Wardens vodka probably didn’t hurt either

Peace is always short-lived. Tune in next week for more chaos.

Vodka Is A White Flag Of Truce

Previously on Bad Blood Bandits: A middle-aged man showed up provoking a feral reaction from Jackson and was overheard by Marylinne saying something about him “leaving Geneva”. Jackson, having failed to get any more information out of Marylinne has had to resort to a conversation with the only other person to hear the conversation: the Warden. Who revealed that the middle-aged man is his son.

Part 4 of Our Fathers’s Sons

Bottle in hand, Jackson slowly made his way to the desk and sat opposite the Warden as he had done so many times after attempting escape. This time he felt almost an ally since both of them had to tolerate Jackson’s son in their lives.

“I saw he came to visit last night.” Jackson said, knowing he couldn’t play dumb to the Warden, especially when it came to his son.

“Yeah well you must have done a number on him to have him turn out that way.” The old man tensed a little and waited for her to take a hit from her glass.

“Well that’s why I’m here right? So I can dump my kids on you.” Jackson replied, careful not to antagonize her. He would have to get used to her making jabs like that, they only get worse as the bottle empties. She poured him a much smaller drink than hers and pushed it over to his side of the desk. He never drank that much but he knew better than to refuse a temporary peace offering drink from a somewhat functioning alcoholic.

“And somehow he seems to think he’s making YOUR life miserable.” She shook the glass in tight circles before taking a hit.

“Did he mention Genevieve?” Jackson asked directly trying to avoid the elephant in the room that Cam had staggered up against.

“Genevieve? Who’s that?” The Warden looked like she was being dragged out of her buzz to be made to think.

“His wife.”Jackson replied and kept quiet and still, letting her mull it over a little.

“Oh yeah, he did mention her. You’ve not a bad memory for a raisin your age.”

“You remember a bit more when you’re sober, or so I hear.” Jackson tilted his head back and killed the drink in the glass; better to get it over with all at once than to drag it out. He made sure to keep the glass close so she couldn’t refill it.

“How’d she end up with him anyway?” Cam went back to shooting the breeze.

“She was a girl then. Something about being married to an ass makes you grow up.” Jackson waited for the conversation to lull again until he tried asking again. Did he say anything about leaving Genevieve?” Cam thought for a second.

“Yeah, something about leaving her with the kids and having to get back to her. Like he really cares.” Jackson was relieved. He had what he had come for: his son was not about to leave his wife as the information from Marylinne seemed to suggest.

Next week: See what sort of mischief Charlie has been up to. I’m pretty sure there was gunpowder involved.

Marinate, And Interrogate

Previously on Bad Blood Bandits: Jackson tries to escape and is yet again foiled by an attentive guard. On his way in he seems to have recognized a middle-aged man. The Next morning at breakfast Marylinne mentions something about hearing that middle-aged man say that he was “leaving Geneva”. Charlie and Lars arrive interrupting any attempt Jackson might have made to find out who Geneva might be.

Part 3 of Our Father’s Sons

The relentless leisure-bickering between Lars and Charlie had preventedJackson from getting anything more out of Marylinne and after breakfast wasn’t much better either. He ambushed her as soon as Charlie and Lars parted ways in amid amicable verbal abuse.

She was surprised at Jackson being any more interested in what she had to say. He didn’t normally care about gossip and so this sudden and enthusiastic interest made her a little uncomfortable. She only liked to talk about the goings on at the Home and was quite content to stay out of them.

“It just looked like you knew him and so I thought you might know what he and the Warden were talking about.” Her eyes darted everywhere but Jackson’s face.

“But did he say anything else!” Marylinne backed away from Jackson’s inquisition and stuttered “I-I didn’t hear.”

The moment was gone. There was no chance of Jackson getting any more out of Marilynne than he already had even if she did hear more. The only person left that heard the conversation was the Warden and she was not exactly on friendly terms with the old escape artist. This would need a certain finesse with the aid of Charlie

The mission: data extraction, the method: intoxication, the mark: Warden Cameron AKA “Cam” Haight. That night Jackson requested two things of Charlie: a distraction and a bottle of Stolichnaya-a particular favorite of The Warden’s.

It wouldn’t be hard to convince the Warden to imbibe in a certain grain beverage. The hard part for Jackson would be to deny his pride.

Charlie did his job causing some sort of distraction involving what sounded like party poppers. Knowing Charlie, he would have the creativity to ensure the complete irritation of the guards on duty. This left Jackson with the difficult task of feigning remorse.

He opened the door to her office without knocking but held out the bottle first as a white flag.

“You cant bribe me with what I can get myself now get the hell out.”

“I came to apologize.” You would never know the burning angst inJackson’s chest at not only having to admit wrong and by proxy, defeat.

“Well it’s nice to know I’m not the only one driven to drink by a visit from your kid. Siddown and open the bottle before I remember who brought it.”

It Runs In the Family (It Practically Gallops)

“Pack and get dressed, before your father hears us.
Today we escape. We escape.”
-Radiohead “Exit Music (For A Film)”

Part 1 of Our Fathers Sons

Images of Russian Gulags and Communist guards populated Jackson’s moderately furnished cell-sized living quarters and disappeared when he closed his copy of A Day In The Life Of Ivan Denisovitch.

His son had given the book to him “for his birthday” in the summer (Jackson’s birthday is in January). Jackson assumed he did it out somewhat out of spite but mostly as a way of rubbing his current incarceration in and never thought his father would actually read it so, out of spite, Jackson read it. He didn’t read it right away because that would give the impression that he was bored and in need of entertainment (which he was). His son really wouldn’t know when he read it or even if he read it at all but made all the difference to Jackson. It was a matter of pride.

What necessitated the closing of the book was the frantic entrance of Charlie in his room. The boyish satisfaction in Charlie’s face and the screams of what sounded like a Banshee emanating from down the hall told Jackson enough. Since his mischievous friend had discovered a new source for contraband, he had seen Charlie receive much more unusual items than mild narcotics. In this case, his teenage grandchildren delivered unto him a small rodent of some sort which he promptly planted in Janine’s room once his delinquent descendants had delivered said contraband. This was the source of the Banshee screams.

It was a few moment when Jackson’s instincts kicked in and he saw the ordinary Charlie prank as a small opportunity. Since most of the guards (attendants) were occupied the delicate task of getting Janine to stop screaming they were likely to have left the parking lot surrounding the Home unattended. The front door would still be too heavily populated so he would need Charlie to serve as another distraction.

“Charlie, we’re in business.” The boyish satisfaction graduated to a devilish glow. The two of them rooted around the cell for a pinch of salt and made their way to the dining hall.

Luke was patrolling the last obstacle between Jackson and freedom. The large space of the dining hall being empty would make it hard for him to cross I unnoticed. This was why he brought Charlie and the salt. Luke would surely have no mercy on either of them since they had marred his good looks on more than one occasion. This was exactly what Jackson depended on. He directed Charlie to make sure Luke saw him slip the powdery white substance.

The vain attendant played into Jackson’s hand like the idiot he took him for –no doubt he assumed Charlie was attempting an “Uncle George”) and while he was busy interrogating Charlie Jackson made his move past the vacant lobby and out the doors to the smell of fresh air.

His small taste of freedom was cut short by a fresh batch of jackassery from none other than Donald who was faithfully standing guard outside the entrance and promptly stretched his foot out to trip the old escape artist.Jackson’s leg collapsed and Donald collected him from the cold concrete.

The defeated old man was marched back inside holding his wrist, bloodied a little from the fall. He recognized a well-dressed but rugged looking man in his mid forties on his way in. At the sight of him Jackson covered his wrist and straightened himself up. His new gait suggested that he had nothing better to do and he ignored the rugged middle-aged man.

…to be continued.

*A prank of Charlie’s that was well-known among the guards involving the spiking of someone’s drink.

The Absolution Of Sins…Bandit Style

Previously on Bad Blood Bandits: Inspired by the spite that comes of being wrongfully accused and therefore wrongfully sentenced to clean toilets, Jackson spiked the Warden’s coffee with particularly strong hallucinogen. This being Charlie’s signature move the Warden responded by cutting off Charlie’s supply of narcotics. Jackson began to feel a little guilt at causing his friend to be deprived of the one thing that made this hellish place bearable.  

Part 5 of I Wanna Be Sedated

Not everyone who seeks redemption will find it but anyone
who seeks forgiveness can find redemption.

            Admitting fault was not a habit Jackson’s. Neither was helping anyone acquire narcotics yet there he was, sitting in the tattered and uncomfortable couch staring at a pair of Charlie’s grandchildren brainstorming for ways to smuggle narcotics in under the Warden’s nose.

Of course, he could have just walked into the Warden’s office and explained his guilt but since he was already in the doghouse after being falsely accused of assaulting an attendant, this was far from an option. As far as the Warden was concerned, he was getting off easy with cleaning very one of the 60-plus toilets in the building despite his bad back. A second incident in a week would bring untold retribution and chastisement on the old man not to mention admitting guilt; a fate worse than whatever damnation would be inflicted upon him.

He was still left with the problem of absolution –absolution, as far as Jackson was concerned, simply meant making the sentence for the crime null and void. Yes, Charlie was being punished for something he had no part in but if Jackson were to find a source outside of the Warden’s control the punishment would be irrelevant and therefore the crime would be nonexistent. The problem was,Jacksonhad absolutely no idea how or where to acquire drugs of any kind. Even a pharmacy to him was an abomination to the human immune system.

Absolution however, was taking a backseat in Jackson’s mind. The front seat was occupied by Charlie’s grandchildren ages 14 and 16 who seemed to be enjoying themselves too much. The two of them had stopped by most likely because they were bored and thought it was amusing to see Charlie struggle with memory. Sometimes they brought a friend to show off their patriarch like a zoo exhibit and, although there was much snickering had by whoever came to see the show, they usually seemed much too out of place to be having fun probably because they weren’t causing some sort of trouble. They had inherited Charlie’s knack for finding it even though it skipped their parents.

To move in any closer would be obvious and the last thingJacksonwanted to do was interrupt what seemed to be scheming. He knew the look on Charlie’s face when he was on to something and it was even more frightening to see it reflected in the children of his offspring.

His curiosity was pumping adrenaline through his veins. He tried to put his head back and pretend to go to sleep so he could focus on their voices and drown out the ambient noise of the Home but he could barely make out any words and just trying made it worse. To the untrained eye he might have looked serene and peaceful all the while a tempest was brewing in him with every word that he could not hear completely.

The voices tapered off and Jackson opened his eyes quickly and looked around as if he had been startled. Charlie was saying goodbye to his grandchildren with a warmth that was not there before although there remained some vestiges of awkwardness as there usually was in abundance.

Charlie hurried over to Jackson and tapped his shoulder like an excited child.
“My grandkids are brilliant! Who’d have known they came from such prudes!”
“Are you gonna tell me about it or just spout cryptic and uncalled for compliments about your grandchildren at me?” Jackson replied. Charlie looked around uneasily as Lars entered the room.
“Not here.”

As soon as they were in a safe retreat from any eavesdroppers Charlie explained that he could get his usual supply of opiates from his “brilliant” grandchildren who were in more trouble than Jacksonhad imagined and were most certainly Charlie’s decendants.

It would have been better forJackson to have found the solution himself- at least it would have made him feel better- but the result was the same: the punishment was averted and so the crime had ceased to exist.

Fire In The Hole!

(Part 1 of I Wanna Be Sedated)

The smell of burnt rubber still lingered in the air and Jackson suppressed a well-earned chuckle. The Warden would be furious, especially having been called in from home, but there was a certain pride that accompanied her anger like a shiny badge on Jackson’s pride-swollen chest. The more outraged she was, the shinier the medal.

The cause of this disturbance happened during the night’s bingo game which had been more than usually peaceful. Jackson was still a little sulky from his last botched escape attempt and Charlie was well medicated (at the Wardens request) and so was much more docile and less mischievous. Aside from the occasional outbreak from Janine or fight between Grant and Chesley there had been almost no activity worth mentioning at the Home until that night.

Bingo night was a particularly special torture. No one had anything better to do so it seemed a good idea as any to stave off the boredom but since whatever unlucky attendant was being punished with the responsibility of officiating the game usually had a magazine open and called out a number whenever they felt it was too long since the last time they had done so. It was slow enough to make even Nodding Oscar (who was known for being a little slow) a little antsy and Jackson was beginning to feel a little of the old disquiet set in although he would have preferred to sulk. Charlie was so baked, or medicated or whatever you want to call it, the game was keeping his attention

Normally these things were buzzing with restlessness: Janine’s discontented murmurings would usually be punctuated by shrieks of horror at her bingo chips being mismatched, Grant and Chesley would be sparing and Charlie would be up to no good. Tonight, however Janine was bedridden (most likely in some grasp at attention), Grant and Chesley had been separated and Charlie was content to practice tricks with his zippo and play the game in peace.

“B” the attendant paused before releasing the second half “twenty-four”.

Charlie slowly and sedately moved a chip on Jackson’s card, the latter having lost interest in the game entirely and was doing his best to keep a sullen face when his body was being charged like a battery with restlessness. In the absence of Charlie getting into some sort of trouble Jackson felt a vacuum because instead of perpetually planning mischief his partner in crime was contentedly mischiefless.

The silence and peace was eerie unnatural and dissonant. The calm and lethargic call of the next letters burst the reservoir of static in Jackson and after a second to calculate, he slipped his hand into Charlie’s pocket and with a fluid motion snapped the lighter on and tossed it perfectly underneath the bored attendants’ still and statuesque feet.

Within a minute, amongst the smell of burning rubber and the screams of the attendant Jackson was at peace again in the midst of the chaos although it was him, not Charlie that induced it.

Papillon: Part 2

Previously on Bad Blood Bandits: We saw Jackson’s very first  feeble escape attempts thwarted by an attendant (guard) named Luke-affectionately dubbed “Luke-cifer by Charlie whom Jackson met shortly after his first attempt. We left them sitting down in the dining hall where a highly amused Charlie was, much to Jackson’s annoyance and in a very animated and excited fashion, trying to get him to attempt a third escape while they had momentum.

Seated at their dining table with outstreched legs watching the kitchen attendants set up for lunch the bandits sat stewing in their recent defeat. Jackson had long since drowned Charlie’s incessant ramblings about causing trouble. This was long before Charlie’s condition had advanced and he had turned to narcotics so it was more common for him to be this animated and aware later in the day. It was no wonder of course that the Warden allowed him to keep his grass when he did discover it because he caused much less trouble when he was high.

Jackson, on the other hand, whished to God that Charlie was high so that he would shut up until his sulking was interrupted by Luke who was walking past them in an attempt to eavesdrop on what he rightfully assumed to be their plans for escape (or in this case Charlie’s ridiculous ideas) when he tripped on Charlie’s outstretched leg and ran headlong into one of the attendants carrying juice –one of their few vices- to the lunch tables spilling water and juice  all down the front of his neat button-up shirt landing the two of them in a pile on the floor with a clank and clatter ruining his perfectly groomed, model like hair.

As soon as Luke  got up and collected himself he warned the two of them that if they made any more trouble that day he would take special care that they would be the subjects of cruel and unusual punishment: exclusion from any of the games or movie nights that were sparse and infrequent enough.

Jacksonlet out a chuckle and Charlie said something about if he could see that in the morning it would be so much easier to get out of bed and that got Jackson’s attention because it sparked in him divine inspiration which he would put into motion at dinner.

The plan formed in Jackson’s head was slowly extracted by Charlie’s incessant badgering as Luke, who was more worried about any lasting damage to his shirt than whatever the two of them were cooking up. Come dinnertime he would wish that he’d stayed and made sure they weren’t planning any mischief.

Jackson gave Charlie a part in his master plan (although grudgingly) and made sure the two of them made sure they were at the same table at dinner nearest their exit of choice and when, as soon as they received their coffee (served at dinnertime to make sure the inmates didn’t fall asleep in the common areas out of boredom) Jackson tried to get Luke’s attention by subtly acting suspicious like acting nervous. Charlie, on the other hand, chose the less subtle method of flicking peas at him with his spoon.

“You think he’s made yet? I was aiming for his stupid haircut” said an anxious Charlie, giddy at the though of escape or trouble or both. Jackson kept his cool as the assaulted guard approached them.

What happened next Jackson could not have planned. As Luke leaned over the table to warn the two troublemakers of their imminent punishment Charlie, in his excited state quite accidentally knocked his scalding hot coffee on the front of Luke’s neatly ironed shirt. Jackson moved as quickly as he could to catch it but knocked his own coffee in the air in somersaults spraying it on the table and Luke.

The two of them seized the opportunity and left Luke clutching his face in pain. They were out of the door before too many people congregated around the scene but as soon as they made it to the parking lot they saw Bill, the large and lazy looking guard sitting on the bench taking his second lunch break who noticed the truants and confronted in his own slow way forcing them back to the home.

“Oh that’s great”Jacksonsaid with his voice simmering with sarcasm. “We have another boy scout on our hands.”

“Luke-cifer’s” face still retains a small burn next to his nose that, if you ask anyone in the Home how he acquired it, you will get a vast array of stories sometimes violent but always with an air of pride that one of their own took matters into their own hands that day; not that any one of them besides these two would do so themselves.

This was the first of many but they were not the inseparable pair you see today. That, however, is a story for another day.

Papillon: Part 1

Whether or not Jackson ever made it out, his first real attempt with Charlie had become the stuff of legends in the Home.  Of course, the first few attempts don’t count.  They were like a teenager deciding to become a rockstar and then realizing it would actually have to take some work.

After a year of sitting around in a miserable state and snapping at anyone that talked to him the moronically simple thought occurred to him (with a little help from the Steve McQueen) that if he hated his life in the home so badly then he had the responsibilty to escape -this, of course was the inspiration from  the motorcycle-riding escape artist mentioned above with an assist from Richard Burton.

At first he thought it would be a simple matter of observation and timing. He soon realized it would be easier to break out of Hell although Hell probably had better bingo.

The first breakout he ever made seemed easy enough; no one paid him any mind. Why should they have? To them  he was just a tired old prune going about his business so it wasn’t too hard for him to leave his breakfast with the perpetually burnt and scalding cup of coffee to sneak out the first time until he met Luke, one of the guards, in the parking lot who then interrogated him on his purpose.

“Are you going somewhere?”

“Do you think you’re in movie or somethin? No I’m not going anywhere I’m sitting here talking to your ugly mug.” Luke was not used to Jackson’s abrasive retorts but eventually he brought him back inside after a great amount of name calling on Jackson’s part and when the fledgling escape artist was finally made to sit down was the first conversation he ever had with Charlie.

“Where did you go?” Said a distracted Charlie slouched over in his chair.

“Out for a walk.” Jackson replied much annoyed.

“I didn’t know they let us have walks! Im gonna go have one.” Jackson didn’t correct him because he could tell as long as Charlie was around he wasn’t going to have any peace or quiet so he let him go and try to take a walk. When “Luke-cifer” as Charlie called him brought the vagrant back inside Jackson was about ready for a second attempt.

He made sure Luke had left the room and walked in the opposite direction in search of an exit. Unbeknownst to Jackson, he was being followed by a formerly bored Charlie and the two of them were met by “Luke-cifer*” doing his rounds.

“Don’t tell me you’re both out for a walk again.”

“Well that doesn’t give us a whole lot of options then does it?” Charlie said to Jackson when then released a slew of curses assuming that it was Charlie’s presence who foiled his attempt.

As soon as they were thrown back into thier prison Jackson was attempting a different escape, this time from Charlie who was following him around like a puppy about to be fed. Jackson, who was still angry at him for ruining his last attempt just wanted to sit somewhere and sulk until another opportunity arose but Charlie kept following him saying “c’mon man, we were just getting Luke-cifer  all riled up! It’ll be fun!” but Jackson would have none of it until Charlie did something to demand his attention…

To Be Continued

*A play on the name Lucifer who, according to tradition, is the pricipality associated with the deadly sin of Hubris (or pride).