cwilleford.miamiblues-第3部分

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d　him　attractive。　His　skin　was　unblemished　and　deeply　tanned　from　long　afternoons　spent　at　the　yeard　at　San　Quentin。　At　five…nine；　he　should　have　had　a　slighter　build；　but　prolonged　sessions　with　weights；　pumping　iron　in　the　yard；　as　well　as　playing　handball；　had　built　up　his　chest；　shoulders；　and　arms　to　almost　grotesque　proportions。　He　had　developed　his　stomach　muscles　to　the　point　that　he　could　stand；　arms　akimbo；　and　roll　them　in　waves。
　　Freddy　had　been　given　a　sentence　of　five…to…life　for　armed　robbery。　The　California　Adult　Authority　had　reduced　the　sentence　to　four　years；　fixing　an　earlier　parole　date　for　two　years。　After　serving　the　two　years；　Freddy　had　been　offered　a　parole；　but　he　turned　it　down；　preferring　to　do　two　more　years　and　then　get　out　of　prison　without　any　strings　attached。　He　accepted　the　label　in　his　jacket…the　file　folder　that　held　his　records　in　the　warden's　office…which　had　him　down　as　a　career　criminal。　He　knew　that　he　would　mit　another　crime　as　soon　as　he　was　released；　and　if　he　was　on　parole　when　he　was　caught；　he　would　be　returned　to　prison　as　a　parole　violator。　Violating　a　parole　could　mean　eight　or　even　ten　more　years　of　prison　before　beginning　the　new　sentence　for　whatever　it　was　that　he　was　caught　doing　after　he　got　out。
　　San　Quentin　is　overcrowded；　so　there　are　not　enough　jobs　for　everyone　and　a　man　must　earn　a　job。　Freddy　liked　to　work　（when　he　worked）；　and　he　was　efficient。　Assigned；　after　several　months　of　idleness；　to　kitchen　duty；　he　had　observed　the　operation　closely。　He　had　then　written　a　ten…page　memorandum　to　the　warden；　explaining　in　detail　how　the　staff　could　be　cut　and　the　service　improved　if　certain　correction　officers　and　prison　chefs　were　removed　and　replaced。　To　Freddy's　surprise；　he　found　himself　back　on　the　yard。
　　His　report；　which　would　have　earned　a　management　major　in　college　a　B　＋；　earned　Freddy　the　enmity　of　several　kitchen　screws。　These　officers；　with　their　solid　links　to　the　prisoner　power　structure；　directed　that　Freddy　be　taught　a　lesson　for　his　temerity。　Two　black　prisoners　cornered　Freddy　in　the　yard　one　afternoon　and　worked　him　over。　At　the　yard　captain's　hearing；　they　claimed　that　Freddy　had　jumped　them　for　no　reason　and　that　they　were　merely　attempting　to　defend　themselves　from　his　psychopathic；　racist　attack。　Inasmuch　as　Freddy　had　tested　out　as　a　psychopath　and　sociopath　（as　had　the　two　other　prisoners）；　he　was　sent　to　the　hole　for　six　days　for　his　unprovoked　attack　on　these　innocent　inmates。　The　black　yard　captain　also　gave　him　a　short　lecture　on　racism。
　　During　the　six　dismal　days　in　the　hole；　which　included　revocation　of　Freddy's　smoking　privileges　and　reduction　to　bread　and　water　with　a　plate　of　kidney　beans　every　third　day；　Freddy　reviewed　his　life　and　realized　that　altruism　had　been　his　major　fault。
　　Back　when　he　had　been　a　juvenile　offender；　he　had　been　sent　to　the　reform　school　at　Whittier；　where　he　had　organized　a　sit…down　strike　in　the　dining　hall　in　an　effort　to　get　seconds　on　Sunday　desserts　（rice　pudding　with　raisins；　of　which　Freddy　was　very　fond）。　The　campaign　failed；　and　Freddy　had　stayed　at　Whittier　for　the　full　three　years　of　his　sentence。
　　Again；　at　lone；　California；　in　the　Preston　Institute　for　Youthful　Offenders；　Freddy　had　extended　himself；　planning　the　escape　of　a　boy　named　Enoch　Sawyers。　Enoch's　father；　who　had　caught　his　son　masturbating；　had　castrated　the　boy。　Mr。　Sawyers　was　a　very　religious　man　and　considered　masturbation　a　grievous　offense　to　God。　Mr。　Sawyers　was　arrested；　but　because　of　his　religious　connections　and　the　laudatory　testimony　of　his　minister；　he　had　been　sentenced　to　two　years'　probation。　But　when　young　Enoch；　only　fifteen　years　old　at　the　time；　had　recovered　from　his　unelected　surgery；　he　had　bee　a　neighborhood　terror。　Deprived　of　his　testicles　and　taunted　by　his　schoolmates；　he　had　demonstrated　his　manhood　almost　daily　by　beating　one　or　more　of　his　tormentors　half　to　death。　He　was　fearless　and　could　take　incredible　amounts　of　punishment　without；　apparently；　noticing　or　caring　how　badly　he　was　hurt。
　　Finally；　at　seventeen；　Enoch　had　been　sentenced　to　Preston　as　an　incorrigible　menace　to　the　peace　of　Fresno；　California。　At　Preston；　among　some　very　hardened　young　prisoners；　Enoch　again　felt　pelled　to　prove　his　manhood　by　beating　up　on　people。　His　technique　was　to　walk　up　to　someone…anyone…　and　slam　a　hard　right　to　his　fellow　prisoner's　belly　or　jaw。　He　would　continue　to　pummel　his　victim　until　the　person　either　fought　back　or　ran　away　from　him。
　　Enoch's　presence　in　the　dormitory　was　unsettling　to　the　other　prisoners。　Freddy；　to　solve　the　problem；　had　befriended　him　and　worked　out　an　escape　plan；　telling　Enoch　that　he　could　prove　his　manhood　to　the　authorities　once　and　for　all　by　escaping。　Escaping　from　Preston　was　not　so　difficult；　and　Enoch；　with　Freddy's　help；　got　away　easily。　He　was　caught　in　Oakland　four　days　later　when　he　tried　to　beat　up　three　Chicano　beetpullers　and　steal　their　truck。　They　overpowered　him；　kicked　out　his　remaining　front　teeth；　and　turned　him　over　to　the　police。　Enoch　told　the　officials　at　Preston　that　Freddy　had　planned　his　escape；　so　Freddy's　good　time　was　revoked。　Instead　of　eighteen　months；　Freddy　spent　three　years　there。　Moreover；　Freddy　had　also　taken　a　severe　beating　as　soon　as　Enoch　was　returned　to　Preston。
　　In　the　hole　at　San　Quentin；　which　was　not　altogether　dark…a　pale　slice　of　light　indicated　the　bottom　of　the　door…Freddy　thought　hard　about　his　life。　His　desire　for　the　good　of　others　had　been　at　the　root　of　his　problems；　making　his　own　life　worse　instead　of　better。　And　he　hadn't　really　helped　anyone　else。　He　decided　then　to　look　out　only　for　himself。
　　He　quit　smoking。　If　your　smoking　privileges　are　revoked　but　you　don't　smoke；　the　punishment　is　meaningless。　Back　in　the　yard；　Freddy　had　quietly　joined　the　jocks　in　the　daily　pumping　of　iron　and　had　worked　on　his　mind　as　well　as　his　body。　He　read　Time　magazine　every　week　and　took　out　a　subscription　to　the　〃Reader's　Digest〃。　He　also　gave　up　sex；　trading　his　pudgy　punk；　a　golden　brown　Chicano　from　East　Los　Angeles；　for　eight　cartons　of　Chesterfields　and　200　Milky　Way　candy　bars。　He　then　traded　the　Chesterfields　（the　favorite　brand　among　black　prisoners）　and　150　of　the　Milky　Ways　for　a　single　cell。　He　also　made　his　peace　with　the　prisoner　power　structure。　He　had　turned　selflessness　to　self…interest；　learning　the　lesson　that　everyone　must　e　to　eventually：　what　a　man　gives　up　voluntarily　cannot　be　taken　away　from　him。
　　Now　Freddy　was　out。　Because　of　his　good　behavior　they　had　let　him　out　after　three　years　instead　of　making　him　serve　the　full　four。　They　needed　the　space　at　San　Quentin；　and　inasmuch　as　some　two…thirds　of　the　prisoners　were　classified　as　psychopaths；　that　could　not　really　be　held　against　him。　On　the　day　Freddy　was　released；　the　assistant　warden　had　advised　him　not　to　return　to　Santa　Barbara；　but　to　leave　California　and　find　a　new　state。
　　〃That　way；〃　the　assistant　warden　said；　〃when　they　catch　you　again；　which　they　will；　it　will　at　least　be　a　first　offense　in　that　particular　state。　And　bear　in　mind；　Frenger；　you　were　never　very　happy　here。〃
　　The　advice　had　been　sound。　After　three　successful　muggings　in　San　Francisco…with　his　powerful　muscles；　it　was　a　simple　matter　to　twist　a　man's　arm　behind　his　back　and　ram　his　head　into　a　wall…Freddy　had　put　three　thousand　miles　between　himself　and　California。
　　
　　Freddy　turned　on　the　water　in　the　tub　and　adjusted　it　for　temperature。　He　undressed　and　read　the　information　on　the　placard　beside　the　corridor　door。　Checkout　time　was　noon；　which　gave　him　twenty…four　hours。　He　studied　the　escape　diagram　and　what　to　do　in　case　of　fire；　then　took　the　room　service　menus　into　the　bathroom。　When　the　tub　was　filled；　he　turned　off　the　faucet。　He　went　back　to　the　bar；　filled　a　tall　glass　with　ice　and　ginger　ale；　and　got　into　the　tub　to　read　the　menus。
　　He　glanced　at　the　room　service　menu；　and　then　studied　the　wine　list。　He　didn't　know　one　wine　from　another。　Vintage　years　meant　nothing　to　him；　but　he　was　amazed　at　the　prices。　The　idea　of　paying　a　hundred　dollars　for　a　bottle　of　wine；　even　with　a　stolen　credit　card；　struck　him　as　outrageous。　The　thought　also　made　him　cautious。　He　knew　that　as　long　as　he　did　not　buy　anything　that　cost　more　than　fifty　dollars；　most　clerks　would　not　call　the　800　number　to　check　on　the　status　of　the　credit　card。　At　least　this　was　the　usual　policy。　And　in　hotels；　they　usually　didn't　get　around　to　checking　the　card　until　the　day　you　checked　out。　But　he　had　taken　a　135…a…day　suite。　Well；　he　wouldn't　worry　about　it；　and　as　he　thought　about　the　mugging　of　Herman　T。　Gotlieb　in　the　alley；　he　felt　a　little　more　secure。　That　was　the　safe　thing　about　mugging　gays；　the　police　didn't　worry　much　about　what　happened　to　them。　At　the　very　least；　Mr。　Gotlieb　had　a　bad　concussion；　and　he　would　be　a　very　confused　man　for　some　time。
　　Freddy　got　out　of　the　tub；　dried　himself　with　a　gold　bath　sheet；　and　wrapped　it　around　his　waist。　He　needed　a　shave　but　had　nothing　to　shave　with；　his　face　was　clean　but　felt　dirty　with　its　blond　stubble。　He　went　through　his　stuffed　eelskin　wallet　again。　He　had　79　in　bills　and　some　loose　change。　The　San　Franciscans　he　had　mugged　had　carried　very　little　folding　money。　He　had　seven　credit　cards；　but　he　was　going　to　need　some　more　cash。
　　He　put　the　stolen　Cardin　suitcase　on　the　coffee　table。　It　was　locked。　If　there　was　a　razor　in　the　case　he　could　shave。　He　didn't　have　a　knife…perhaps　there　were　bar　implements。　Yes；　a　corkscrew。　It　took　five　minutes　to　jimmy　the　two　locks。　He　opened　the　suitcase　and　licked　his　lips。　This　was　always　an　exciting　moment；　like　opening　a　surprise　package　or　a　grab　bag。　One　never　knew　what　one　would　find。
　　It　was　all　women's　stuff：　nightgowns；　skirts；　blouses；　slippers；　and　size　61/2　shoes　in　knitted　covers。　There　was　a　black　silk　cocktail　dress；　size　seven；　a　soft　blue　cashmere　sweater；　size　seven…eight；　and　a　pair　of　fold…up　Cardin　sunglasses　in　a　lizard　case。　The　items　were　all　expensive；　but　there　was　no　razor；　apparently；　the　young　mother　who　had　owned　the　suitcase　didn't　shave　her　legs。
　　Freddy　dialed　the　bell　captain　and　asked　to　speak　with　Pablo。
　　〃Pablo；〃　he　said；　whe