Free with You

Chapter 6: El Hongo

Vito POV

*BANG! BANG! BANG!*

It’s the sounds of desperate prisoners pounding on their cell doors. Mixed in with echoes of random wailing, shouting, and cussing in Spanish. Even sounds of maniacal laughter can be heard.

My hands are clasped together, as I sit on the edge of a ripped up foam mattress, laid across a cold steel bed. I’ve been staring at nothing for hours.

So far, the only blessing has been that my cell mate has left me alone. He’s as tall as me, lanky though, with tattoos all over his body and face. His hair is always tied up in a short pony tail and he looks to be in his late 40s, given that his mustache hasn’t greyed yet.

He doesn’t talk much, and I can’t speak the language well, so it works out. He probably thinks I could f**k him up, since I’m ripped in comparison, but if he’s a psycho, then I might’ve met my match.

When he wants something, he points at things, until I nod. Then he just proceeds with what he wanted.

Not sure if he’s asking for permission, or he’s just being respectful, but I haven’t given him any reason to fight me. I still don’t know his name and he doesn’t know mine, but if we’re stuck here for life, we might as well start.

At this moment, he’s minding his own business, reading a book on the bunk, up top of mine. I don’t want to bother his time of solace.

I stand up to go look through the door’s window slot, hoping for a guard to walk by. I desperately want to feel free in the yard today, even if I’m forced to do menial labor.

It’s been about one month now, since I’ve been incarcerated at El Hongo. I’m likely to go insane, at this rate.

I press my forehead against the steel door, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. Then my ears pick up a different sound.

Wait, are those footsteps?

I can hear the sound of boots clacking against the concrete hallway floor.

Fuck yeah!

It’s a guard!

I look up through the window, and to my surprise, I see two guards escorting some random dude. He’s not wearing any prison uniform though.

Weird.

I stay standing, until the group of guards stop next to my cell door.

Huh?

What’s going on?

“¿Que estas esperando eh? Abre la pinche puerta (What are you waiting for? Open the f*****g door),” says the random dude to the guards.

It’s only now, that I notice, the entire prison block is eerily quiet.

I hear my cell mate crawl down from his bed, curious as to what’s going on. Instinctively, I walk backwards to stand next to him, in the middle of our cell, for some semblance of defense.

I can hear keys fumbling to open our door and in comes two guards, who immediately stand at either side of the door.

“f*****g idiots,” I hear the man utter as he now stands before me.

Hold on.

Did I just hear him speak English?

The guy is a bit taller than me, but he’s lean compared to my bulkiness. I can tell, because his black shirt is real… uh tight. At least he’s got a decent pair of black jeans with what I can guess is a Versace belt?

Okay—so the guy is rich.

As for his head, he’s got a clean fade at the sides with a dark brown french crop line up and a short boxed beard. He’s got a chain around his neck and is wearing gold rimmed aviators…indoors.

What.

A.

Fucking.

Tool.

He crosses his tatted arms and looks straight at me.

“Vito Osorio, I presume?” the guy says rather seriously.

“Yeah, and who the f**k are you?” I say back with a bit of hesitation, because I’m not sure, if he’s one of THOSE guys.

You know, like THOSE people who feed me my own balls.

There’s a dead silence for what seems like forever. Then he starts chuckling to himself and turning his head to look at our cell toilet like he’s bored.

“Oso, it’s your lucky day,” he smirks with his fingers tapping on his forearm.

“You get to choose your fate. Option 1, I kill you here and now. Option 2, I tell these guards to kill you. Option 3, I tell my people in these cells to feed you your balls during lunch.”

I stand corrected, he is one of THOSE guys.

I cough a bit into my fist from the ball forming in my throat.

“Is there an option 4?” I say without trying to be funny, because this is life or death for me.

“Ah, see,” he points his finger in the air like he’s trying to make a point, “—I knew I’d like you, because you’re a man who finds solutions, when faced with no real options. Isn’t that right, Oso?” his smile is so wide, his white teeth blinding me. I swear I’m looking at a cheshire cat right now.

I nod, because I don’t want to say anything stupid.

“I’ve read your file.” A pause. “A liar by trade, but recently, you’ve had your first kill. Good for you man.” He shrugs like it’s nothing.

Is this guy nuts?

“I didn’t kill him,” I say shaking my head.

“Does it f*****g matter? You made choices that brought you here in my territory. Know what that means?” he lowers his aviators, his grey eyes staring right into mine, “—it means you do as I say. I don’t need to tell you what happens if you don’t,” he quietly threatens in his deep voice.

He puts his aviators back on.

“Got it. So when do I leave?” I say trying not to show my fear, despite how short of breath I am at the moment.

“Eager. Good. We leave now.” he says turning around and heading to the door.

The guards look emotionless, and I turn to look at my cell mate, who is pale in the face. He obviously knows this man.

The man is standing at the doorway now, waiting for me to follow and when I do, he says, “Everyone here calls me Puppet.”