Letter 43

June 13, 2011

Dear Mom,

Hope you are okay. It's easy to get into trouble around here without ever knowing it. I guess I'm okay, although my situation could easily be mistaken for being nickel and dimed to death from any other point of view. We had many electrical storms roll through this area, but what we need is rain. So far, no follow-through on the threats of rain.

Something relatively interesting happened to me this morning. Of course, that's easy to happen around here. Out of the blue I was taken back to the dentist. After I spent 15 minutes getting my chains and cuffs off for the short walk over there, I got to check out some rumours received from inmates.com. The one I hoped he would verify the most came from Jesus and another guy in blue. The guy wasn't able to confirm it though, so it's just empty talk.

As I was worrying about a brown-out while the dentist had a drill in my mouth, I overheard the talk going back and forth over me about the evident turnover in jobs with that particular dentist. Time for good news/bad news. Good news is the dentist says he doesn't see any problems in my mouth that he can't fix. He is a good dentist and fully able to do as he says so I have confidence in him. The bad news is they started taking $5 out of the inmates' accounts for every visit and it seems like I've got 10-12 visits in my future. Plus the miscellaneous charges for medical services. That is why I said earlier that, from another point of view, it could easily be mistaken for willfully siphoning off the funds available to me.

With that out of the way, I grow increasingly concerned for the mental state of Jesus. I know it has to be killing him about his family in Cuba not writing to him, not to mention the fact that he hasn't heard anything from M. in three weeks now. I'm beginning to be swayed by the weight of the evidence now, myself. I do what I can to talk him back down, but at the same time I'm agreeing with him if that makes any sense. I finally got a decent celly and now this is threatening to take him away. Hope that doesn't read as me being selfish and childish, but not many compare to the integrity and character I see in my celly; I just hope he doesn't fold up.

They're coming back for shift change now, and very shortly I'll be faced with the proposition of keeping my celly occupied until a definite word comes to him in the mail. While some difficulties solve themselves, most camp out with me persistently. You will save yourself some aggravation by not second-guessing any wisdom into my words.

Lately I've had no arguments with my Muse; I just haven't been writing for lack of opportunity. Guess I should cut back on lending myself to the increasing chaos here. As regards lending: The dreck the kitchen puts on all the trays for us to eat is getting worse and less. Soon, they will be charging rent for the air we breathe...I foresee this. Anyhow, we supplement what is on the trays with the ten items allowed per week from the canteen.

Ten items lasts about four days for two people. The rest of the week we go without. In this case, the "we" are Jesus and I. I could make it go almost all week long but I don't have the heart to eat my fill while he goes hungry at times as he sells his trays for miscellaneous items. What I'm getting at is, although the canteen is pretty closely watched, if you could spare enough for my celly to get some food once in awhile I'd really appreciate it a lot. It would do wonders for his outlook and mood as well. I breach this subject hesitantly, as I can understand that you don't want to be duped by proxy (or any other way), but it would do so much to ease the shadow of tension growing more real for him. I don't make this request lightly.

I need to get this out the door if I'm going to get it mailed now. Write me and let me know what you decide, please.

Much love,
James