Abigail Curry
ENGL 130-Kenan
Final Draft
12/9/14
Poor Richard
The aged, fluorescent light seized incessantly creating bold and bothersome flashes of
light that illuminated the eight by eight room. The walls were a subdued gray that provoked
sadness with just the quickest glance. To the people within them, the walls felt as if they were
inching closer and closer together. Pretty soon, they would consume the room and everything in
it with one swift gulp. A bunk bed was placed on the left wall. Due to its complete lack of
comfort, the mattresses acted as a simple barrier between the human body and metal springs
rather than a beacon of comfort. There were no pillows. There were no blankets. A beaten up
toilet and sink stood in the back right corner. The place was silent. Darkness floated through the
brisk air. There was no light visible besides the flashlight of the guard as he walked up and down
his post. The light reflected off of the silver bars that separated the room from the rest of the
world creating shapes upon the walls. Sometimes Richard would search for objects in the short
flashes of light to keep his churning mind occupied like people do when envisioning shapes out
of clouds. He did that a lot. Richard imagined things. The light fell onto his face and he lay there,
seemingly lifeless.
Richard rose the next morning to ruckus that filtered into his room from the common
area. Apparently two of the inmates had gotten into a fight over who could use the 50 lb
dumbbells from the weight rack. Richard rolled reluctantly out of his bunk and sauntered to the
mirror that hung over the dilapidated sink. Richard stood 6 feet 2 inches with salt and pepper
colored hair. He reached for his comb, ran it under the dripping faucet, and gently combed back
his flyaways with precision. This was a routine that he had completed daily for the last 30 years
of his life; only this time, his wife wasn’t here to rush him out of the bathroom. He gazed into the
mirror, astonished by what he had become. His ice blue eyes projected wisdom beyond his years
to the beholder. The wrinkles around his forehead and his eyes added character to his dapper
appearance. His build was strong and sculpted, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have a little extra
something around his midsection.
“How did a guy like me end up here?” Richard lamented as a peered at his reflection.
In that moment, a guard shouted, “Richard, looks like you’re in store for a cell mate”, as
he slid open the cell door.
As the guard finished his sentence, a large man walked through the doorway and stood
before Richard.
“Hey man, my name’s Carl.”
“Hey Carl, I’m Richard. If you don’t mind me asking what are you in for?”
“Actually I do mind. (Awkward silence) Nah man I’m just kidding, I was a stupid kid and
drove drunk. I never thought I would end up killing someone on the short drive home. You?”
“Long story short, I pissed off the IRS.”
“Classic. Look man, I’ve been in here for quite some time and I know that having a
friend around here is a valuable thing. You in?”
“I’m in no position to turn down a friend. You’ve got a deal.”
Richard made sure to be accommodating and was very aware of himself so that he did not
step on Carl’s toes. He had not had a lot of human interaction for quite some time, due to his
social ineptitude in this unfamiliar place. Day turned into night and before he knew it Richard
was laying in his bed daydreaming. He peered upon the upper bunk to see Carl quiet and
peaceful. The next morning Richard was too nervous to face the aggression of his fellow inmates
without his loyal companion by his side, so he waited for Carl to wake up. As he waited he
rummaged through the few belongings that the guards at the gate allowed him to bring in with
him. Among those belongings were his business card, his wedding ring, and a picture of his
daughters. He shoved his wedding ring and business card aside and set his sights on his
daughters. To this day, Richard was in awe of the beautiful people that him and his wife had
created together. There was nothing more precious to him than his two little girls. It pained
Richard to remember their confused little faces as he told them that he would be going away for
a while. The pain of his conviction stayed with him day in and day out. He remembered the day
when shit hit the fan like it was yesterday. As Richard sat there and contemplated his life, Carl
slowly rolled over and awoke.
“Hey man, what’s up? You look like you’re deep in thought.”
“I’m just thinking about how I got in here is all.”
“If you wanna talk about it, I’m your man.”
“Well…”
Carl perked up in his bunk like he was ready to take in an earful.
“It was a day like every other day. I sauntered into the elevator after grabbing my
morning coffee in the lobby. I scrolled through my never-ending inbox of emails on my iPhone
as the elevator rose to floor 43. I noticed a precarious message, but at the time I just ignored it.
As I walked down the hall, I admired the Peters Global sign that is tastefully plastered across the
wall in a professional font. As I passed the sign, I emerged into the common area that consisted
of a sea of people. The air was filled with a cacophony of random noises. Incessant ringing came
from behind the walls of many of the cubicles along with the sound of computer keys, staplers,
and instant messenger notifications. It was a busy day at the office. I got to my office and made
myself at home. I fell into my office chair because I knew that I had a tough day ahead of me.
Just as I got comfortable, the phone rang. It rang relentlessly until I reluctantly answered. My
receptionist on the other line said that there was a man at her desk requesting to speak with me,
so I told her to send him in. A tall, slender man with a wormy face walked briskly through the
door of my office.
I said to him, ‘Would you like something to drink Mr…’
He responded, ‘Erickson, Paul Erickson. And no thank you; let’s get to the point shall
we. I am here today to inform you that the IRS is investigating your company of tax evasion;
rather, they are investigating you.’
I sat silently in a dazed state of confusion as I processed the rather alarming information.
I came to my senses and had a response for the accusations. I harshly responded.
‘If I may, Mr. Erickson, I feel that your accusations have no backbone and you will not
be able to provide any proof to support your claims. I feel that that it is in your best interests to
close that little briefcase of yours and leave my office immediately. I will not tolerate such a
violate questioning of my integrity.’”
Richard paused to glance up at Carl above him just to make sure that he was still awake
and engaged.
“Anyway Paul proceeded to say, ‘I am sorry that you feel that way Mr. Peters, but we are
going to need you to arrive in court on Friday at 1:15pm on the dot. We will reveal to you the
evidence that we have on this case. I will be sure to inform everyone involved of your lack of
cooperation with the investigation. Have a wonderful day.’
Can you believe that Carl? He was such a smug little man!
Paul flashed me a troubling smile and then proceeded to walk out of the office. Every
employee on the 43rd floor had overheard the conversation between us. Frantic conversations
emerged between cubicles as they processed the newfound information. Eyes jumped from one
person to another in shock like a bouncy ball that was out of control. No employee could grasp
the idea that their loyal employer would do such a thing. I rose from my office chair, adjusted my
suit coat as to maintain any ounce of pride and integrity that I had left, and as calmly as possible,
walked to my doorway. My gaze met the attention of many of my employees. A feeling of
anxiety and uncertainly ran through my veins like wildfire. I began to recount my actions and
contemplated how to escape this. At that point, I could envision the potential headlines plastered
across the front page of the paper, ‘Family man and business owner of Peters Global gets thrown
in the slammer for attempts to evade federal income tax.’
Ugh Carl, it was so embarrassing.
Time passed at a rather glacial pace after I was face to face with the reality of my very
near future. The time came eventually to go to court. As I walked up the steps to the courthouse,
it felt as if I was climbing the stairs of the Eiffel tower; endless.”
“Damn it 2045, stop talking to yourself! I’m trying to sleep here.”
Richard paused and sat silent for a moment before yelling, “I’m not talking to myself!”
“Sure as hell seems like it! Now keep it quiet.”
Only after the slightest hesitation, Richard proceeded with his story.
“Anyway, as I was saying. Each step I took was a step closer to my fate, which I feared.
As I approached the top, I pushed open the double doors to the courtroom with force to trick
myself into believing that I exerted confidence. I walked down the long isle to reach my seat. I
felt like eyes were burning into the back of my head as I passed the rows of benched seating for
the observers. One thing was for sure; I did not like this feeling. I reached my seat and placed my
hands together in my lap. As they began to accumulate sweat, the judge insisted on silence upon
all members of the courtroom. She proceeded to recite the verdict.
‘Unfortunately Mr. Peters, we have found you guilty of attempting to evade federal
income taxes by adjusting your gross income to a value much smaller than its actual number.
Due to the facts we have collected and the conflict that you had with Mr. Erickson, I am
sentencing you to 18 months jail time and you must repay all of the federal income tax that you
cheated your way out of.’
I was an unworthy opponent and easily accepted my punishment. I would have made a
fool of myself trying to prove that the facts were inaccurate. The thing was, I had been in debt
for a while. I didn’t want my family to know so instead of making changes in my daily life, I
found a more clever way to accumulate more money. I still had to pay for dance lessons and
swim school and art class and all the other bills. I was too ashamed to handle it the right way.
On Tuesday, March 19th, I took my first steps into the county prison and walked away
from the three beautiful faces of my two daughters and my wife. My anxiety grew as I walked
past each security checkpoint. It was as if I was drifting farther and farther into a dark maze of
despair. I received harsh glares from the inmates as I passed one cell after another. All my eyes
could see was grey on grey on grey.
This place is a sad place Carl. Carl?”
Richard looked above him to see Carl keeled over once again in a very deep sleep. He
continued to tell his story because it made him feel better to talk about it.
“The guard directed me here to this very cell and told me that my cell number 2045
would identify me. And that was it; that was the moment that I lost my identity. I took a step into
what was going to be my entire world for the next 18 months. I stepped inside, turned toward the
outside world, and watched as the guard slammed the door shut and…”
“Ahhhh ahhh ahhh,” screamed Carl.
“Carl calm down, you’re okay!”
Richard soothed him until his heart rate slowed down to its normal pace. Apparently Carl
often dreamt about the day he hit that teenage girl. It was something Richard was going to have
to get used to. Carl was a large guy, the type of guy that could defend himself in a place like
this, no problem. He had long dark brown hair with a crooked smile. His eyes were deep set into
his head so far that his bone structure created a shadow on his cheeks. He was built like an
athlete. He was so big that the uniform given to him looked as if it was 4 sizes too small. On the
outside, Carl was a scary looking guy. No one would ever think to lift a finger against him. But
once you got to know the guy, he was like a big old teddy bear on the inside.
Carl was finally awake and they were ready to face the rest of the inmates together. Carl
began to list the certain forms of etiquette that were appropriate between the prison walls. He
started with the simple ones like do not look people directly in the eye unless you plan on
starting some kind of confrontation, speak when you are spoken to, and listen to the people that
have been in here forever because they have more pent up anger. Richard still remembers Carl
telling him, “Hang with me, and you’ll be just fine.” It gave him such comfort.
Carl and Richard became very close. The others never really seemed to take a liking to
Carl. In fact, they refused to ever acknowledge his existence. This confused Richard, but
regardless, Richard was in no position to turn down a friend. Every Monday at 8 am they would
lift weights together in the inmate gym. While they lifted, they would talk about life after the
slammer. Richard longed to rebuild his professional career, while Carl longed to be with his
family again. Richard always felt uncomfortable stares coming from the other inmates, but he
just thought they were impressed by his bulging biceps and toned abs. On Wednesdays they
would go to the barber, Dave. Dave didn’t accept normal terms of payment seeing that it would
not get him very far in prison. Instead he accepted the inmate’s food, mostly bacon, and in
exchange he would give them a trim and a clean shave. For some reason, he always refused to
trim and shave Carl, but Richard went anyway. Richard was very anxious on his first visit. There
was something about an inmate with a blade that made his hair stand on edge. Carl and Richard
steered clear of the sand volleyball courts on Thursday nights. That is when the chomos played.
They were at the bottom of the inmate totem poll. Nobody associated themselves with the
chomos. There was a hierarchy in place according to the severity of the crime. There were some
people that you just didn’t mess with, like the ones that actually had blood on their hands. That
was all true except Carl and Richard made an exception for Chico. Chico had committed firstdegree murder. Despite this, Richard took a liking to him and felt that he was a stand up guy.
This was a doubtful conclusion by the general population considering the teardrop that was
tattooed under his left eye, but Carl and Richard didn’t think twice about it.
Life in prison became normal for Richard. His daily activities became mundane and
common. He adapted quite well with the help from Carl. Night was the worst part. He would lie
there in his bunk with his eyes open, seeing absolutely nothing. He could have been looking at
the back of his eyelids and wouldn’t have noticed the difference. That darkness made Richard
uneasy. The only thing that got him through the nights was the subtle breathing of Carl above
him, letting him know that he was not alone.
Richard woke up early one Friday morning to find that a piece of mail had been slid
through the bars on their door. Richard reached for the mail and broke the seal. It was a notice of
early release. Richard was being released 6 months early for good behavior. His heart raced with
both excitement and apprehension. He was going to be a free man, something that he had been
dreaming of for the past 12 months. Although this was true, he would be leaving behind a true
friend in Carl. Richard felt that it would be best to leave behind a note for Carl rather than
dealing with the sad goodbye.
“Dear Carl,
It seems that the day we jointly dreamt of has become a reality for me. I am being
released early for good behavior. To avoid a tough goodbye, I wanted to leave
you this note expressing my gratitude. Thank you for showing me the ropes and
being such a loyal friend. There is no one I would have rather shared my bunk
with. Contact me when you are out in the real world again. Thanks again bud.”
On March 19th, exactly one year from the day he stepped foot into the county prison,
Richard Peters was released. The real world felt awkward and strange. Richard was adjusting to
life all over again, this time without the helping hand of Carl. Just a week after being release,
Richard saw that he had a missed call on his cell. Someone had left a voicemail.
“Hello Mr. Peters, it seems that you left behind a note for a Mr. Carl. Since you were
alone in your cell and there is no record of this Carl in our database, we are going to mail the
note back to your current address. We hope that it gets back to you safely.”
Richard pressed the end button. His eyebrows cinched towards one another in complete
and utter confusion. All of the memories that he had with Carl were on replay in his head.
“What do they mean I was alone in my cell. Who the hell was I talking to the whole
damn time?”
Richard was in a state of shock. To the world, Carl didn’t exist, but in Richard’s world,
Carl was very real. Richard sunk into his chair and whispered under his breath.
“Oh Carl, I wish you were here.”
“What’s up man? I’m right here.”
Richard turned around to see Carl standing before him once again. A smile stretched
across Richard’s face.