Джойс Оутс - Prison Noir

“Hello, Cotton,” the investigator said without looking up. He shuffled some papers and then pushed a tape recorder across the desk. “You know how this goes. I’ve gotta record this.”

The investigator fumbled with a cord. Cotton unconsciously rolled his tongue across his teeth, feeling the worn shards. Not that many years ago, he had beautiful white teeth, almost perfectly straight. Then, for no known reason, he began grinding his teeth in his sleep. He wasn’t even aware of it at first. Eventually, the prison dentist gave Cotton a mouthpiece to wear while he slept, but after he chewed through two of them the dentist refused to issue him a third. Now his teeth were ground down to nubs that resembled brown wooden pegs.

The investigator pushed a button and the recorder began its slow spin, hissing faintly. He cleared his throat and covered the microphone with his hand. “I’m sure you were sleeping again, Cotton, but we’ve gotta put it on tape. For the record, you know? Funny thing, though — so far nobody has made a statement. I know at least ten inmates witnessed this homicide, but nobody wants to talk.” The investigator shook his head slowly, as though deeply hurt by rejection. “You reckon I’m losing my touch, Cotton?”

Cotton stared at the sleek computer on the shelf behind the investigator. Desktop computers were not even available when Cotton was last on the streets. All Cotton knew about them was what he saw in magazines. Cotton had never even used a microwave.

The investigator cleared his throat again, removed his hand, and then dutifully spoke into the microphone, loudly pronouncing Cotton’s full name, prison number, and the date, along with an assigned case number.

Cotton sighed. He was suddenly weary, tired of memories littered with the compost of life’s worst moments, tired of having to explain everything. Why was it, anyway, that some people thought they should know everything? Figuring out life’s most difficult questions was hard enough, but when it came to finding the answers — well, even a stupid man knows that many things are simply unknowable. And who’s to say that’s not the way it should be? Life is bigger than the questions we frame, and a man could go crazy trying to understand everything. Cotton had seen it happen.

He once believed his life could still be a triumph of hope over experience, but now he only knew a certain weary dullness — like a grinding clock inexorably running down, like a looming pressure pushing him off life’s narrowest margins. He glanced up at the spear again, Ninety-Nine’s dried blood still visible on the linen strips tying the knife to the broom handle. That blood was all that remained of a once-living soul. At this moment, Cotton experienced the same sense of his life hanging in the balance, and again he felt that same coppery taste in his mouth.

“Okay, Cotton, do you have a statement to make at this time, or were you sleeping again?”

“No,” Cotton replied. “No, I wasn’t sleeping. I saw the whole thing. It was horrible.”

Eric Boydis a short-story writer living in Pittsburgh. He is an advising editor for theNewerYork ; his own writing has been featured in several publications. Boyd is a winner of the 2012 PEN Prison Writing Contest, a program for which he is now a mentor. In 2008, he briefly studied at the Maharishi University of Management in Fairfield, Iowa; currently he commutes, via bus, to New York every week to study at the Writer’s Foundry MFA in Brooklyn.

Kenneth R. Brydon’sstories have been included in the anthologies of the San Quentin creative writing program, and can be found at brothersinpen.wordpress.com. He wishes to thank writing instructor Zoe Mullery and the San Quentin Prison University Project for guidance and mentoring. Brydon, incarcerated for thirty-five years, feels that his writing untangles his thoughts, and he is still counting on his faith in Christ.

Zeke Caligiuriis a writer/poet from south Minneapolis. He has been incarcerated since 1999 and is the recipient of several awards through the annual PEN Prison Writing Contest. He has recently completed a full-length memoir, and he currently resides at the Minnesota Correctional Facility at Lino Lakes.

B.M. Dolarmanwrites under a pseudonym. He has been behind bars for fifteen of his thirty-five years and is currently serving a federal prison sentence. He is a voracious reader, a writer of fiction, and a creator of pencil-drawn artwork.

Stephen Geezis the pseudonym of a TV and music producer on prisonly hiatus. He exploits this temporary respite to write and publish novels, essay collections, websites, and writers’ how-tos while editing for other authors, teaching prison writing classes, and advocating for the wrongly convicted. A longtime fan of Joyce Carol Oates, he can be contacted at info@StephenGeez.com.

Scott Gutcheswas born in 1970 and grew up in and around Paterson, New Jersey. He won first place for fiction in the 2012 PEN Prison Writing Contest and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Gutches currently resides at Fremont Correctional Facility in Cañon City, Colorado, where he continues writing short fiction.

Linda Michelle Marquardtis a forty-two-year-old mother of three sons. Each day she tries to live by her father’s teachings and be thoughtful, kind, and considerate toward others regardless of her current incarceration at Women’s Huron Valley Correctional Facility in Ypsilanti, Michigan. Marquardt is a college graduate with a bachelor’s degree in English from Pennsylvania State University. She appreciates the unconditional support of her family and friends.

Joyce Carol Oatesis a recipient of the National Medal of Humanities, the National Book Critics Circle Ivan Sandrof Lifetime Achievement Award, and the National Book Award. She has written some of the most enduring fiction of our time, including the national best sellers We Were the Mulvaneys, Blonde , and The Falls . She is the Roger S. Berlind Distinguished Professor of the Humanities at Princeton University, and is the editor of New Jersey Noir .

Bryan K. Palmergrew up in the Detroit area and is currently incarcerated in Jackson, Michigan. He has been published by the University of Michigan’s Prison Creative Arts Project, College Guild, and in various publications. His work includes historical fiction, short stories of the noir variety, and poetry. He hopes to pursue writing as a career when he is released in December 2015.

Timothy Pauleyhas been in prison since 1980 and is currently at the Washington State Reformatory. Over the years he has seen some very bizarre things in the alternate reality that is prison. His stories bring the reader into that world and show another side to this subculture.

Ali F. Sareiniwas born in Kharbit Selim (Valley of Peace), Lebanon. He left the Lebanese Civil War in 1985, was a political prisoner in Berlin, Germany, joined the US Army’s 82nd Airborne Division in 1986, and holds a bachelor’s degree in business administration from Campbell University and Spring Arbor University. He has just completed his twenty-fifth year of incarceration for second-degree murder.

Sin Soraccodoes not deal well with idiots so she lives far away on the banks of a Northern California river and writes stories. She is the author of the novels Low Bite, Edge City, and Come to Me.

Christopher M. Stephenwas raised just outside of Chicago ( Westside !). At the age of twenty-two he left home with no specific destination and no plan except to have a good time. He’s been in and out of prison ever since. (Let that be a lesson to you, kids.) He is currently serving time for a bank robbery conviction in the Federal Correctional Institution in Pekin, Illinois, and is due for release in 2014.