Crow Bait by Douglas Skelton Read Free Book Online

from killing a security guard, but during the struggle the shotgun went off and blew away a chunk of the guy’s chest. Sammy’s accomplice was never caught and Sammy never grassed him up. Only Sammy’s fingerprints were found on the weapon, which was dropped at the scene, and he went down for the murder. He was given Life with a minimum of twenty years and Sammy was bitter and angry about the deal he had been dealt so he took it out on the system. Eventually he settled down and was something of an elder statesman on the galleries.
    Davie met him almost immediately after leaving the Governor’s office back in 1982. He was transferred from ‘B’ Hall to ‘A’ Hall and given his new co-pilot. Although Davie had agreed to behave himself, the Colonel had decided not to take any chances and put him in with Sammy.
    He was a tall man, a good foot taller than Davie, and his thick grey hair was swept back from his forehead in a wave you could surf on. The bristles on his jaw and chin were showing white but his face was remarkably smooth, only the tell-tale crow’s feet at his eyes betraying his years. He gazed at Davie through narrowed eyes, as if he was sizing him up. Later Davie discovered that Sammy’s eyesight was failing, but he was too vain to wear glasses. However, it was Sammy’s first words he would never forget.
    ‘So, son – I hear you’re planning to be a fuckwit?’
    Davie didn’t know quite how to respond, but Sammy wasn’t one to let it lie. ‘Mug’s game, that, take it from me. I’ve been there, done that, wore the fuckin t-shirt. Done it all, me – hunger strikes, dirty protests, flung my shit around like a fuckin baboon. Got me nowhere, except a series of kickings from the muftis and time added. But see now? Just do my time, get on with it.’
    ‘You just gave in?’ Davie couldn’t help himself. He may have reached an agreement with the Colonel, but he hadn’t yet decided if he would really stick to it.
    Sammy smiled and the expression seemed to take years off his face. ‘Naw, son. Prison’s a force of nature and you can’t win against a force of nature. But hey, it’s up to you, son. You want to be a fuckwit, you go your own merry way. Me? I just hope they don’t come to the wrong bed when they burst in, that’s all. ‘Cos see they screws out there? They think you’re nothin more than animal and you need to be caged. They’re no here to rehabilitate, they’re here to keep you banged up because they and the outside world think that’s what you deserve. And if you do what I think you’re gonnae do, you’ll prove them right. Don’t do it, son. Prove them wrong and get the fuck out of here.’
    As time went on, Sammy told him that he had decided to get that speech over with as soon as possible. He wasn’t on the screws’ side, far from it. He felt the prison system could be too dehumanising and when the shit hit the fan, he hoped he’d be there to see it. But all he wanted now was to finish his term and get out, get back to his family. He hadn’t joined the system, not in his head, but merely played it at its own game, used it against itself. Protests just brought you solitary and that made time stretch, an hour banged up in segregation was like a day on the galleries, where inmates had access to recreation, to education, to work.
    The screws treated Sammy differently from the other convicts. They knew what he was capable of and they knew he chose not to do it, not because he was beaten or bullied but because he had found another way. Sammy took no shit from any of the young scroats who passed through the hall. Davie once saw him deliver an open-handed slap to a young boy from Govan who stepped out of line. The boy’s eyes burned and Davie was ready to pile in, but Sammy just stepped closer, thrust his chin into the boy’s face and stared at him. That’s all he did, just stared straight into the scroat’s eyes, daring him to make another move. The boy backed down. A screw