Page 21 of Thick

“Not yet. I doubt they will. He’s got them convinced that he’s a necessary part of the facility’s operation.”

He glanced over his shoulder as he walked toward the coffee maker. “I think he’s an unnecessary asshole.”

I laughed at his remark. “He is. I can’t stand the way he treats people. And, he’s not afraid to tell the inmates what he thinks about them. I think it’s awful.”

“From what you’ve said, he’s just itching to get his hands on one of those guys. I can’t imagine what would happen if he did. It might not end the way he has it planned.”

I was taught to be unbiased. Even so, I couldn’t help but see Perry as anything but an asshole. While my father added cream and sugar to his coffee, I wondered how open-minded he’d be about Tate. After a few seconds of contemplation, my mouth spoke before my mind could stop it.

“One of the inmates was set free the other day. Prosecution dropped the charges before he went to trial. He’d been locked up for several months while he was waiting for his hearing. Then, they just let him go. It was weird.”

“Pretty good fellow, was he?”

“I thought so, why?”

He faced me and sipped his coffee. “You wouldn’t have mentioned him if he wasn’t. I raised you, remember?”

For as long as I could remember, there were two beings I had to answer to. God, and my father. Bullshitting my father was like bullshitting God. Through both of their eyes, I was as transparent as glass.

“He was really nice,” I said. “He was one of the few I talked to every day.”

“Not the bank robber? I’m guessing they didn’t let him go.”

“No.”

“The biker?”

“Yeah. The biker.”

“Wasn’t he in for felon in possession of a firearm?”

“You’ve got a good memory.”

“I don’t have much to remember.” He chuckled. “You’re the only one I talk to.”

He studied me as he sauntered to the table. “What was his other case?” He sat down and then met my gaze. “The first one?”

“Excuse me?”

“The case that made him a felon in the first place? What was it?”

I suspected he’d be understanding of what Tate was charged with. If for some reason he wasn’t, befriending Tate would go against his wishes, and that wasn’t something I was prepared to do.

“Starting a riot,” I said.

He let out a laugh. “I’m guessing it wasn’t a peaceful gathering of townsfolk.”

“Actually, it’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“Not as bad as it sounds, huh?” He raised both eyebrows and grinned. “Let’s hear it.”

“Remember that kid that got shot at the gas station in Compton?”

“The black kid who was holding a gas pump? White cop thought it was a gun?”

“That’s the one.”

“How in the hell do you think I’d forget that? I was so damned mad when that verdict came out. Still mad about it, to tell you the truth. Son-of-a-bitch killed an innocent kid, and got off without so much as a slap on the hand. Justified shooting, my ass.”