The Maximum Security Book Club by Mikita Brottman

Author:Mikita Brottman
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780062384355
Publisher: HarperCollinsPublishers
Published: 2016-04-13T04:00:00+00:00

DECEMBER 5, 2013

In our final meeting to discuss On the Yard, we were joined for the last time by Guy, who was about to be released. Since coming out of lockup, he’d been sharing a cell with Charles. This pleased me, since Charles made sure Guy did the reading for the book club and that he took it seriously.

I hadn’t seen Guy for more than six months, and he looked even more waiflike than ever in his ridiculously oversized jeans. He was carrying all his possessions in a duffel bag: he was worried they’d call for him anytime. When I asked him what his plans were, he told me he wanted to go to college. I gave him my e-mail address and asked him to get in touch. I said I’d help him if I could. Most prisoners aren’t released directly from JCI but taken to a pre-release facility for a week or so, to prepare them for life on the outside. Then, once they’ve met their parole officers and arranged the details of their parole, they’re free to go.

Later, when Guy had left the prison, I asked the other prisoners whether they thought he’d manage to keep out of trouble. Those who knew him well had serious doubts.

“Guy’s a drug addict,” said Charles, flatly. “He needs to get himself a place in rehab. That’s the only chance he’s got.”

“He can’t function sober,” added Donald, whose DPSCS sweatpants had been mended with a patch that said “No Fear.” The neat stitching on the patch reminded me of Donald’s perfect handwriting, its clear printed capital letters embellished with subtle, unexpected curls and flourishes. It also reminded me of the hot-air balloon sewn over many years by one of the convicts in On the Yard whose fabric is studied by accident investigators who find it to be weakened as a result of excessive stitching, “an analogy to hesitation marks in a suicide.”

“If he’s coming back, maybe we should save his place in the book club,” I said, half seriously.

“I don’t think he’ll be back,” said Donald. “Tell the truth, I think he’s going to OD.”

About a month after his release, on January 10, 2014, I got an e-mail from the account of a woman whose name I didn’t recognize. It was Guy, using—I assumed—his aunt’s e-mail address. “Hello,” he wrote. “Just wanted to touch base with you and see how you are doin. Im doin OK. Is there anyway you could help me out with more information on college. Feel free to reply back to this email. Would like everyone to know I say Hello.”

I replied the same day, sending him information about college financing. (Many ex-prisoners are eligible for grants, but not, unfortunately, those convicted of drug offenses, which Guy had been.) “Where are you living?” I wrote. “If you’re anywhere near downtown Baltimore, I’ll buy you a coffee.” There was no reply.

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