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topped fence were. It opened and we walked the same path I’d walked when coming back from my appeal. I looked up at the tower where home plate would have been and tried to figure out how Damon and I were going to talk to the Whites in the gym. I asked the lead Gooner, Torrez on my left, “Can you let us talk to the gym inmates?” Torrez responded, “Which one?”
     
     
    I knew he wanted me to put someone out there he could add to his gang file, especially if something happened, that was about to. I said, “It doesn’t matter, as long as he’s a White man.” Torrez said, “We’ll see what the Lieutenant says.”
     
     
    We made the turn to building’s 3, then 2, then 1 where the stands for the baseball game would have been and turned almost a full circle from building 6 to where the program office was. I looked at the gym to the left of it, almost directly across from the building we were in. At the end of the gym the walkway stopped and a parking lot opened up for all the prison guards and staff to park. We stood in front of the program office and could hear the noise of the gym. One hundred and forty inmates had to get along on bunk beds with people farting and snoring right next to each other and only a half a dozen toilets and a few pissers. What a nightmare. It was about to get worse. The Program office door opened and a Lieutenant let us in and escorted Damon and me to a room.
     
     
    Damon and I sat down across from a grizzled old black Lieutenant with a name plate- Spinks. Trigger and Psycho came in next and sat down in chairs next to us leaning forward so their handcuffed hands had room behind their backs. Spinks said, “I’m opening up yard in a couple of days. Are there any unresolved problems you guys need to iron out?” I stared straight at Lieutenant Spinks like the rest and wondered why he was bringing us in? There had to be a reason. It came. Spinks said, “I heard there might be a problem looming over the exercise bars.” T-Bone won. There was nothing I could do to avoid it. I heard Trigger say, “No problems.” Spinks looked directly at me, then Damon and I both said in unison, “No problems.” Spinks looked suspicious, like he knew better. He cocked his head to the side and said, “Okay, I’ll take you at your word.”
     
     
    Hearing that pissed me off even more, what was I going to say, or rather whine about, that we got worked and dictated to and now we are just going to bend, until we are bending over? I asked, “Can we go tell the gym?” Spinks said, “Sure.” Then looked at the Gooner- Torrez behind us and said, “Escort them to the gym.” Torrez said, “I asked them who they wanted to talk to and they wouldn’t give me a name.” Spinks smiled and said, “They don’t want you to log it and then take the person to the Hole- Ad-Seg the next time you do a gang sweep. They aren’t stupid. Just have the tower guard pick one like we usually do.” The Gooner Torrez nodded his head and said, "Let’s go."
     
     
    On the way out of the program office Trigger chimed in, "Hey Torrez can we go talk to the gym?" Torrez said, "Which Mexican?" Trigger laughed, "The gym tower knows how we do it." Torrez walked us over and kept pushing Trigger, "How do you do it?" Trigger said, "The gym inmates see us outside. It isn't a puzzle." Torrez just nodded his head; he was always fishing and trying to make a name by writing down all the names of prisoners who seemed to have influence. All he was doing was taking even those who were peace makers with influence and burying them with shot caller status in a dark hole where they couldn’t keep peace.
     
     
    The gym was about the size of two full basketball courts and walking past the first part we all heard some Mexicans inside working out. They were following a leader who instructed in Spanish to the others replying in Spanish. Then the bullet proof glass next to the double doors came into view. Twenty feet inside the gym bunk beds