It was amidst the dry monotony of mid-summer that it
happened. I was at that time on janitorial duty in the mess hall. It wasn’t a
bad job to say the least. It gave me a great deal of time to think. It would be
another week before Lisa or Brett would come to visit and I had lost the will
to continue watching the news, or any of the benign broadcasts that were
allowed into my cell at night.
The
claustrophobic condition of being locked in a small cell with five others had
long since worn off, but the days were getting longer. Time is supposed to
stretch in here I suppose.
I was
mopping the floors along with five others in the mess hall. It was nearing the
first lunch rotation and I was staring at the progressively browning bucket of soap
and bleach when they came. There must have been dozens of them. Inmates dressed
like clowns. Bowties, oversized shoes, wigs, white make-up and red felt noses
and all. There must have been at least fifty of them. I don’t know how they
did, or why, but they marched into the mess hall and started turning over
tables. Two of them came up to me and pushed me up against the wall. I didn’t
resist. How could I? I couldn’t even think of a course of action to take. They
bound my hands and feet with duct tape and I was left to watch the whole event
unfold. They took crowbars to the kitchen doors and pried them open and before
you know it the kitchen staff were being pulled out one by one and bound.
One of the
clowns stood on a short tower of tables he and his crew had assembled.
‘We will not
take this oppression any longer! We want what we want and we’re not going to
stop until we get it!’
An eruption
of cheers burst from the felt ridden masses.
‘Warden!
Warden! Come down here with your guards if you dare! We have terms! We have
leverage!’ The spokesman was shouting at the cameras. What guards were present
had already been overwhelmed and bound. I saw one of the kitchen staff lose his
breakfast onto the recently polished linoleum. I looked over to the bleach
bucket I once controlled confidently, hoping for the day to end sooner. I began
searching the clowns for weapons. Was there a chance that I might not survive
this day? How did they overtake the guards? They must have had something. ‘These
people think that because we are felons, that our sense of entitlement is
unfounded. That because we have broken man-made laws, that we are unworthy
beings lower than dust. We say no. We say that today is our day. We want what
we deserve as human being living in a civilized nation. Come down! Come to our
level! See what we are capable of, both in veracity and in compassion. All of
these prisoners of prisoners will be set free. We will go back to our lowly
cages. We do not ask much, but our demands must be met or this circus sideshow
will continue indefinitely!’
-Eric T. Behr
This was my favourite story from Bring in the Ninjas
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