PRISON STORIES: The Social Worker (new)

Okay, here it is...the last in the series.

STORY BLOCK Rated R (profanity, sex and violence)

THE SOCIAL WORKER

It was quiet inside the isolation cellblock. Officer Black had his feet propped up on the desk talking to Officer Smith who was filling out a football pool sheet. Another officer, Pate was leaning against a wall smoking a cigarette. “I guess I’ll take three squares,” he said to Smith. Smith handed him the sheet and Pate filled in the squares, then pulled out his wallet. Taking out three ten dollar bills, Pate handed the money and the sheet to Smith.
Inmate West, dressed in a white jump suit entered the room. “Oooh...money bags.”
Smith waved the money at West. “Bet you'd like to have some, huh?”
Suddenly the laid back atmosphere was disrupted by the sound of an inmate shouting. “C.O....C.O....hey! C.O. you better come here!”
Smith looked at Inmate West, “Hey, fuckhead...go down the range and see what his problem is.”
Inmate West curled his lip at the officer and then walked down the range. Stopping in front of one door, West began to yell, “Oh, God! Smith, you better come quick!” The sound of panic echoed in his voice.
All the officers jumped up and ran down the hall. As they approached the door they saw that there was blood oozing out from under a door.
Officer Black stopped in his tracks, “Oh, shit!”
Pate pulled his keys from his belt and opened the door. Inside, Inmate Eisle, a twenty five year old, white man was in four-way restraints and he had gouged his wrists on the bedposts that his hands were restrained to. Officer Black pushed his mandown alarm and the three officers stood and stared at the inmate, waiting for assistance.
Across the prison compound, a radio operator broadcasted the call for assistance. Attention all listening units...we have a mandown alarm in H-1...a mandown alarm H-1...all available units please respond. Yard officers ran from all directions toward H-1, the isolation block in response to the call.

Susan Juran, an attractive woman in her forties, parked her car in the prison parking lot. Dressed in a professional looking suit she looked more like an executive than a social worker. She reached under her seat, pulled out an ID card and clipped it on her jacket. She looked in the rear view mirror, checked her hair and then grabbed a portfolio from the passenger seat. She exited the vehicle and entered the prison gate.
She walked into the main lobby. An officer sitting at the counter greeted her, “Good morning.” he said in a pleasant voice as he began to look through Susan’s portfolio. In the opposite corner of the room, Susan noticed an officer and an inmate arguing.
“Man, you don't have to talk to me that way!” the inmate shouted.
“Fuck you!” was the officer’s response.
God, she hated to see this kind of thing going on. Picking up her belongings from the counter, Susan quickly walked over to intervene. Susan leaned over to the inmate and whispered something into his ear. The inmate immediately walked over by the crash gate on the other side of the room. Susan looked at the officer who was now looking even angrier. “Look, I'll take care of this for you,” she told the officer in a non-threatening voice. Susan then joined the inmate at the crash gate. “Come with me,” she told the inmate. An officer inside the crash gate buzzed the lock open. Susan and the inmate walked through.
In the outer lobby, the angry officer spoke in a hateful tone to his coworker, “Fucking social workers...who needs them!” The officer at the counter made no comment as he picked up a newspaper and began reading.

to be continued on Wednesday....

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