A CONVICT STORY
CHAPTER 1
It was a hot, muggy night on March 9th, 2004 at approximately 3:45 A.M. at Perry Correctional Institution when Convict Jones was suddenly awakened out of his sleep due to loud pounding and kicking on the prison cell doors, consolidated with other inmates yelling.
"Fire in the hole" is a term prisoner’s use when prison officials or guards come to shakedown for contraband or to take someone to lock up.
Convict Jones rubbed the cold sleep out of his eyes. When he brought his hand down, he noticed two prison officials standing at his cell door. Once the cell door opened, the two prison guards entered the cell. One of the prison guards was a short, fat, round white man in his mid-40’s, who wore a white dress shirt with electric plated gold symbols on his right and left collar, identifying him as a sergeant, coupled with coffee stains spread here and there on the white shirt. This prison guard’s name was Sergeant John Wilson.
“Inmate Jones,” Sergeant Wilson called.
“Yeah, what up?” Convict Jones asked.
“What’s your prison number?” Sergeant Wilson asked.
“Two-one-four-seven-four-seven.”
“Mr. Jones, we were informed to come pack you and your belongings because you are being transferred out of here.”
“Where am I being shipped to?” Convict Jones asked Sergeant Wilson, looking around the small cell.
“You will find out when you get there, inmate,” the other prison guard replied, whose name was Officer Reggie Green rudely stated, cutting Sergeant Wilson off from replying.
Officer Reggie Green was a tall, skinny, black man with a bad right leg and a dead left eye. He was better known to all the prisoners as Toothpick. Prisoners would call him everything from house nigga, black cracker, to Uncle Tom when he came to work because he would treat his own black brother like a dog for no justifiable reason. Officer Green could not comprehend that he was only a pawn used to carry out the order of the Willie Lynch Doctrine. Every time Officer Green came to work, he brought with him his problems from home. He figured that since he could not control his household, he would try to control the prisoners who were already under restraints. When Officer Green came to work, one of two things would happen, either certain prisoners were going to lock up or the unit or dorm would be locked down.
Using his better judgment, Convict Jones decided to keep his mouth shut. There was no need in beating a dead bush. Making any type of remark would have led to a confrontation with Officer Green and Convict Jones did not want that for good reasons. Convict Jones was going before a parole board in eight months, and had a post-conviction relief application pending in the Greenville County Courthouse. Officer Green threw a big, green duffle bag in the middle of the cell floor and informed Convict Jones to unlock his wall locker. Convict Jones did as was ordered. Officer Green immediately began throwing Convict Jones’ belongings into the bag, onto the floor, and anywhere else he felt was appropriate. Sergeant Wilson stood looking, shaking his head, knowing Officer Green was wrong, but he refused to go against his officer for a prisoner.
“I don’t have all night for this shit,” Officer Green growled as he continued tossing items out of the locker.
After packing Convict Jones’ belongings without completing a proper inventory sheet, Officer Green informed Convict Jones to turn around to be handcuffed. Sergeant Wilson then intervened.
“No, handcuff him in the front because he has to carry his own property.”
“What about the rest of my property on the floor?” Convict Jones asked.
“What don’t fit in the green duffle bag stays behind,” Green replied.
Convict Jones was then escorted to the head of operations. The head of operations is in the control center for the entire institution. Without the head, the body would fall. Once at the head of operations, Convict Jones was roughly pushed into a small cell by Officer Green. The cell was only big enough for a body and a chair. Convict Jones resided in this cell for the next four hours, without having the chance to use the bathroom or eat breakfast. After four hours passed, two big black prison officials came to the small holding cell and informed Convict Jones to take all his clothing off. After Convict Jones was stripped, he was ordered to turn around, bend over, and cough as the officers watched his rectum like it was a movie while holding a conversation between each other about his ass cheeks. Once Convict Jones put his clothing back on, he was informed to turn around and put his hands and nose on the wall. Convict Jones complied with the order. The guards then unlocked the holding cell door, entered, and placed prison shackles on Convict Jones’s wrist, waist, and ankles. Convict Jones was then escorted through several corridors within the prison, and out a back door to a gray prison van with tinted windows and bars covering the windows. Once in the van, Convict Jones noticed another prisoner. This prisoner was locked into the van in a small cage in the back, smaller than the holding cell he had just exited. The prisoner looked like a caged animal. He had a full beard with a head full of hair. The prisoner in the cage had on a bright red jumpsuit. The red jumpsuit represented that the prisoner was on lock-up for violation of a major rule of the prison system. Later during the ride, Convict Jones found out that the brother was on his way to supermax in Columbia, South Carolina.
CHAPTER 2
Supermax is short for maximum security. Only the most dangerous and violent prisoners are placed in supermax, as well as prisoners who either committed murder or assault on prison guards or prisoners or a prisoner who was a threat to the security of the prison system itself, mostly legal litigating prisoners. It is said that anything goes in supermax. It is said that some prisoners that go to supermax never make it back out alive. They either get killed by prison guards or they kill themselves, but most of the time it’s the prison guards who are responsible for their deaths, even the suicidal ones. This is the place where the prisoners get lost in the system.
The prisoner in the back of the van on his way to supermax was Bernard Clark, but everybody began calling him Gangsta after the incident which got him sent to supermax. Gangsta was a prisoner who had entered into a sexual relationship with a prison official named Lieutenant Debbie Clinkscale. Lieutenant Clinkscale was a light-skinned black woman with no booty and very large breasts. She was fair game for convicts who had been serving a lot of time, and had not had sex in years. In fact, she was the prisoner’s favorite prison guard, but only for the right price. Rumor has it that Gangsta murdered Lieutenant Clinkscale in cold-blood in front of the majority of the prison population for giving him AIDS.
True or not, Gangsta who was serving a twenty-five year prison sentence under the eighty-five percent law for possession of crack cocaine and possession of a firearm during the commission of a violent crime had been in a sexual relationship with Lieutenant Clinkscale for eight months. Gangsta, who had already served six years on his prison sentence, had a good chance of having his case overturned in the next six months through a writ of Habeas Corpus. Out of the six years served, he had only had sex with his wife Tina Thomas, who everybody knew as Tot Tot. Those sexual encounters with Tot Tot took place during conjugal visits. The last one was at least a year ago. Gangsta and Lieutenant Clinkscale had been having sex every chance they got. In fact, feelings had started developing between the two of them, but neither one would admit to it. Tot Tot had been holding her husband Gangsta down for the last six years like a champ. She vowed with her life not to abandon him during his trials and tribulations in prison. She knew firsthand how hard it was for her husband because she also had a little brother who was serving a ten year sentence under the eighty-five percent law, who would call home every other day complaining about her not sending him any money.
One morning Gangsta woke up feeling ill, and decided to go to the prison medical facility. It was not like they were going to do anything, and if they did all they were going to do was tell him to take two Tylenols and lay down. Once he got to the medical facility, the nurses checked his blood pressure, weighed him, took some blood, and then sent Gangsta back to his unit. Three days later, the medical facility summoned Gangsta. Once Gangsta got to medical, a nurse immediately took him into a tall, slim, white doctor’s office, who sat looking at a computer. Gangsta took a seat.
“Inmate Clark, I hate to be the one to inform you, but you have contracted a very serious virus. We would like to run some more test and draw some more blood from you,” the doctor said, looking down at some paperwork.
“What serious virus are you talking about?” Gangsta asked, squinting his eyes at the doctor as the nurse immediately exited the office to get security.
“Please calm down, sir. We need to also ask you a few questions.”
“Questions like what?” Gangsta asked as the nurse and three prison guards entered the office.
“Sir, have you had any sexual contact with homosexuals since your incarceration?” Doctor Epps asked, looking Gangsta straight in the eyes.
“Hell no!”
“Well sir, you have contracted a sexual transmitted virus from someone and we need to know who so that we can contact and help them too,” the doctor replied, looking up at the nurse who immediately left the office again.
Gangsta’s thoughts began running and immediately Lieutenant Clinkscale came to mind. He already knew that due to the code he lived by he would not snitch her or anybody out.
“I know this bitch,” he said referring to Lieutenant Clinkscale, “ain’t given me no yeast infection,” Gangsta said to himself.
Gangsta’s thoughts were then interrupted by the nurse.
“Excuse me Inmate Clark. The doctor is still talking to you.”
She noticed that Gangsta’s mind had drifted off somewhere.
“Oh, okay,” he replied.
“Inmate Clark, I don’t think that there is any other way to tell you this so I am going to spit it right out. Know this isn’t the end of the world. There are medications to help you with your illness,” the doctor babbled on.
“Doc, would you spit it out,” Gangsta said, looking him in the eyes.
“Alright, you have contracted the HIV AIDS virus.”
Gangsta’s heart immediately seemed to drop to his stomach. He felt as if his bowels were giving way, and he was about to shit on himself. His entire life began flashing before his eyes, while sweat formed on his forehead and dropped into his eyes.
“Would you please follow Nurse Aulston? She will provide you with a pen and paper to write down the names of the people you have been sexually intimate with in the last five years,” Doctor Epps stated, closing the file on the table in front of him.
“Would you please follow me?” Nurse Aulston asked.
Gangsta stood to his feet. The bad news had him a little dizzy. Gangsta followed Nurse Aulston to another location within the medical facility. Once there, Nurse Aulston instructed Gangsta to have a seat outside the office door while she continued on down the hall to another office. Gangsta stood back up and exited the medical facility. He was still dazed and in shock from the revelation of having AIDS then he walked back to the yard
Pursuant to the South Carolina Department of Corrections prison policy concerning medical procedures, Nurse Aulston was required to contact Gangsta’s next of kin to inform them of his medical condition. Nurse Aulston retrieved Gangsta’s medical files from Doctor Epps, and proceeded to another office within the medical facility to make the phone call. Nurse Aulston dialed the phone number in his files. The phone rang three times before a soft, lovely voice answered.
“Hello.”
“May I speak with Mrs. Tina Thomas Clark?” Nurse Aulston asked.
“Yes, this is she,” Tot Tot replied.
“My name is Tammy Aulston, and I am a nurse at Perry Correctional Institution, and we have an inmate Bernard Clark here in our medical facility. Do you know him?”
“Yes, he is my husband,” Tot Tot replied, her heart pounding, thinking that something had happened to Gangsta.
“Well, Mrs. Clark, I truly hate to be the one to tell you,” Nurse Aulston stated as Tot Tot began screaming.
“Ain’t nothing happened to my husband has it?”
“Mrs. Clark, please calm down and let me explain first. Your husband has contracted the HIV AIDS virus through sexual intercourse. We are still running test to make sure that we have not made a mistake. There is a lot of sexual intercourse going on between the inmates at this prison. We, the medical staff, are bound by prison policy to contact the inmates family and inform them of such medical conditions when they occur.”
“Thank you for calling,” Tot Tot replied dryly, hanging the phone up on the nurse.
Nurse Aulston hung the phone up and wiped the perspiration dripping down her forehead. She hated this part of her job that involved calling family members to inform them that something had happened to one of their own. While Nurse Aulston beat herself up about the part of her job she did not like, Tot Tot sat on her bed crying and screamed at the top of her lungs. She was sitting in a trance, not believing what she had just learned.
CHAPTER 3
Gangsta walked back to the compound, went to his unit, and went directly to his cell. Once in his cell, he sat down on his bunk and dropped his head in his hands. There was no doubt in his mind that Lieutenant Clinkscale was the person who gave him the deadly virus. As Lieutenant Clinkscale filled his thoughts, rage seemed to emerge out of him. He then thought about his wife Tot Tot, and how he was going to explain first, that he had been having sex with another female, and second, that same female gave him the HIV AIDS virus.
Gangsta got up from his bed, walked out of his prison cell, and headed to the telephones on the wall to make a collect phone call to his wife. After dialing his home number and waiting for the operator to explain the procedures for his wife to accept the collect phone call, the once lovely, soft voice he grew to love came on the line but with rage and venom.
“Motherfucker, what’s this I hear about you having sex with other men?”
Her accusation threw Gangsta for a loop.
“Hold up, baby,” Gangsta tried to defuse the hostility to no avail.
“Don’t hold up baby me with your faggot ass,” Tot Tot shot back.
Gangsta had never heard Tot Tot speak in this manner, and especially towards him. He knew then that the situation was volatile.
“Listen baby,” he stated, trying to calm her down. “I don’t know what’s going on, but those tests have to be wrong.”
He listened to her breathe hard on the other end of the phone.
Out of hurl and rage, Tot Tot informed her husband that she was done with holding him down. She hung up, leaving Gangsta staring at the phone with a tear running down his cheek.
Gangsta left the phone hanging from the wall and went back to his cell with tears in his eyes. Anyone could see that he was not in his right state of mind. Once inside his cell he began throwing everything around the room, trashing his cell while screaming Lieutenant Clinkscale’s name with profane words. Other prisoners walked by the cell, but did not stop to consider the brothers cries and pains. He then immediately came to a conclusion if he was going to die, he was not going out alone. He reached under his bed and pulled his chopper which was lawnmower blade sharpened down to look like a machete. He then opened his locker, reached in, and pulled out a nine-inch icepick. He placed the icepick in his waistline. Gangsta put on his coat and tucked the chopper under his arm, concealing it from other prisoners and officers. He exited his cell with one thing on his mind, heading to the mess hall where he knew Lieutenant Clinkscale was stationed to work. Gangsta spotted Lieutenant Clinkscale instructing prisoners that they had five minutes to finish their lunch. It was clear that Lieutenant Clinkscale made a real good slave driver the way she was shouting at the prisoners and ordering them around.
Gangsta walked towards Lieutenant Clinkscale slowly, while she was facing the opposite direction. This was going to be hard for him because he truly loved Lieutenant Clinkscale, but they were from two different worlds. She was the police, and he was a criminal. Opposites attracted in the wrong place at the wrong time. Had it not been that, they could have made it work. Once he got within five feet of Lieutenant Clinkscale, he leaped in the air like a bobcat with the nine-inch ice pick in his hand. He drove the icepick into Lieutenant Clinkscale’s neck, sending her falling to the floor. While Gangsta stabbed Lieutenant Clinkscale over-and-over, she was able to turn over, making eye contact. Lieutenant Clinkscale’s mouth moved, forming the question why as she stared into the eyes of Gangsta which were void of life. Gangsta hit her twelve more times with the icepick before finally leaving it stuck in her chest.
While Lieutenant Clinkscale lay in the middle of the floor with blood escaping her body, she took long, deep, heavy breaths, trying to fill her lungs with air to no avail compliments of the icepick. Gangsta’s mind was now totally gone. He stood to his feet, pulled out the chopper, and began chopping Lieutenant Clinkscale into pieces. Other prisoners and prison guards just stood around and looked in amazement. Not one prison official went to the aid of their fallen comrade. Other prisoners cheered Gangsta on due to the way Lieutenant Clinkscale treated them. Some prisoners wanted to help her, but did not think going up against Gangsta would be wise. Gangsta was out of breath, dripping in sweat, and tired from swinging the chopper. He was tackled to the floor by prison officials who had entered the mess hall in riot gear. Meanwhile, Lieutenant Clinkscale’s body parts were laying everywhere by the time other prison officials with enough heart to help her came to her aid. She was already dead.
One year and four months later, Gangsta plead guilty by reason of temporary insanity. He informed the judge that although he murdered Lieutenant Clinkscale, he had good reason.
“Mr. Clark, what gave you the right to take her life?” Judge Floyd asked.
“Because she took my life, sir,” Gangsta replied.
“And how did she do that, sir?” Judge Floyd wanted to know because the claim that Gangsta placed before the courts did not add up with the evidence before the court.
“She gave me the AIDS virus,” Gangsta replied, ratting out the dead to save his life.
“Mr. Clark, Lieutenant Debbie Clinkscale’s test result for HIV or AIDS came back negative. In fact, your test taken two weeks prior to this trial also came back negative,” The judge informed Gangsta.
“But they—” Gangsta was trying to state when the prosecutor for the state interrupted him.
“Your Honor, Mr. Clark has already been found guilty on both counts of murder. We, the state, ask for the toughest penalties to be imposed due to the fact that she was a state official, and he failed to prove that he had AIDS or that she gave him AIDS.”
“I object your Honor,” Gangsta’s attorney said, shifting through some paperwork. “We are waiting on the DNA test of the child involved in this case.”
“Well,” the judge replied, “if the DNA test comes back with something different he’ll get relief on appeal, but as of today I sentence Bernard Clark to two life sentences.”
He slammed his gravel down.
Gangsta looked at the crowded courtroom and saw his wife Tot Tot who had tears running down her face, forgiving him, now knowing the truth. Doctor Epps and Nurse Aulston sat in the back of the courtroom hiding their face, ashamed because they also knew the truth. They intentionally took the stand and provided false testimony, stating they had no records indicating that Gangsta had AIDS or that they informed him of such. Gangsta was then escorted out the courthouse with two life sentences that he would never be able to complete. One for Lieutenant Debbie Clinkscale and one for his unborn seed...
