Prisoner #56

Chapter 4

I had intended to talk to Albert, but too much shit got in the way.

Oh, good shit, not bad.

Well, now that I was appointed the official assistant librarian of the prison, there was a lot of work to be done. I was going to be the right tire man to the prison librarian, a crotchety old man who didn't really give a shit if us prisoners read or not, unfortunately. It's not the best situation, but it's the job I've wanted ever since Marlin put the idea in my head.

I know that I'm the best car for this job. I can set this place right, despite my most undesirable superior. I know I will find a way to get good books. I'll make it my goal for this to be a place prisoners want to come and visit and want to read. Screw what the prison librarian says. I've never followed the rules, hence why I'm here. I'll make the library a better place for everyone. Anything that can make all of our shitty existences a little better.

So, how did I even get the job? Well, the old geezer who had it prior was an old 1940's Plymouth they decided to put on parole. Let him finally spread his wings. After he left, I badgered and badgered the warden to give me the job, until he finally gave in. Persistence and annoyance can work, especially when it comes from someone terrible like me.

However, what the previous assistant librarian left behind, in conjunction with our current librarian, was a disorganized mess and shitty books. It's definitely a good cleanup project for me, but it has left me little time to do much else.

That didn't mean I wasn't still struggling with my feelings about Marlin. I am. I want to talk to Albert, badly, but he's been just as busy as me. I couldn't have talked to him even if I tried. Unfortunately, a huge fight broke out this past week. It was during recreation; I was exercising when it happened in the smoking area. The fallout of the fight left Albert and the other guards scrambling to keep everyone under control and gathering details on the incident. Like whom started it and who hit who first, yada, yada. Stupid, teenybopper girl shit.

Anyway, my inability to talk with Albert has left me and Marlin still feeling awkward around each other, not being as close or talking like we were before. We are working out together, but not talking, showering together...but not talking. It feels like a void.

What makes it even worse is that I can't stop thinking about Marlin. I catch myself staring at Marlin every time we are close...at his body, his eyes, his lips. How fucking luscious he looks, and it reminds me how bad I want him. I've been able to keep my emotions in check around him, and save all of those pent up feelings for when I'm alone in my cell. Yet, that doesn't make it any easier regarding how desperate I am to talk to Marlin and not fuck it up. I can't fuck it up.

One day I was in the library, my main dwelling besides my cell, organizing some books. Hell, putting them in alphabetical order, that's how bad it is. Giving the shelves labels. To be honest, I never thought of myself as a librarian, but I guess secretly, it was a pipe dream of mine. Just being surrounded by books. If I wasn't an environmental engineer, I think being a librarian could have been a potential career path. If Marcus would have allowed it, that is, but I doubt he would have, looking back. A librarian didn't fit Marcus' agenda for his stepson to create a utopian world of hybrid and electric cars.

I guess my pipedream of becoming a librarian, well, assistant librarian, came true, but in the worst way. I had to get into prison for that. Oh well, I guess. Life is pretty ironic, isn't it?

As I was shuffling through some shitty novels, nothing of intellectual value, and putting them on the shelf, someone honked their horn, catching me off guard. Totally startled, the book I had in my tire came flying right out of it, falling to the floor. I grunted, narrowing my eyes, peeking out from behind the bookshelf.