busy\u2019<\/em> spraying and cleaning places that had not been touched in years, one of the cleaners found a key. Not a Kanga\u2019s key that would open gates, but a cell key like the ones we had to our cells\u2019 privacy locks. I don\u2019t know what you do when you find a key, but I want to know what it opens. As I look back now I am minded of a safari park or zoo when the keepers devise some puzzle to distract the animals from their captivity by making them work for treats. For 6 bored wing cleaners this key became our activity for the day.<\/p>\nAfter we had each tried our own cells, Tully was given the task of trying the key in the other 70 cells on the wing. They were spread over 5 landings and we kept sketch as he started on the top floor – furthest from the Kangas. Tully would spray each door and wipe it with his cloth while trying the key. It took less than an hour for him to find the key belonged to the lock in the Wagbo\u2019s cell – right in the corner of the 5\u2019s landing.<\/p>\n
The next couple of days were spent conducting minor mischief’s. When the Wagbo came back from his work he might find that his TV channels had been re-tuned in a different order. Another day he might find that he no longer had any spoons or knives in his cutlery mug, but that there would be 17 forks. But when the Wagbo didn\u2019t seem to react in the manner that was expected, so the games continued. I was the #1 Wing Cleaner and wary about things getting out of control – I didn\u2019t want a nicking. But I wasn\u2019t a grass either. So, like Pontius Pilate, I washed my hands of the affair – but I did watch events unfold.<\/p>\n
The Wagbo was a High Risk, single cell prisoner. He couldn\u2019t have had a padmate even if he wanted one. The next logical progression in the wind-up was to give the Wagbo a friend. When the Wagbo came back from work he found an unwashed cereal bowl in his cell. The next day there was another cereal bowl, this time it was joined by a half-drunk cup of tea.<\/p>\n
The Wagbo was now intrigued enough to ask if anybody had seen somebody in his pad. He spent hours checking the door hinges and trying to pick his lock. But all in all he seemed to be coping. Suspicious, but coping. The game continued.<\/p>\n
He came home to find that the second bunk in his cell had been made up AND appeared to have been slept in. There was an extra toothbrush by the sink (that had been used more than the Wagbo\u2019s ever was). The first major chink in the armour came when the Wagbo found that his new padmate had forgotten to flush the toilet. He came out onto the landing demanding to know who had been in his cell.<\/p>\n
One of the cleaners managed to keep a straight face as he said, \u201cIt\u2019s your new padmate Wagbo lad! The old fat guy.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCan\u2019t be! I\u2019m single-cell!\u201d Wagbo replied defiantly.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, but he works nights, so technically you\u2019re both still single cell cos yez are never together!\u201d<\/p>\n
That was enough, the Wagbo was off down to the office and screaming at the Kangas. Like the boy who cried wolf, they paid lip service to the Wagbo and calmed him down. They hadn\u2019t shown much interest in what he had said, why would they? Wagbo obviously didn\u2019t have a padmate.<\/p>\n
The following morning the Wagbo stood at the edge of the landing by his cell and announced to the wing, \u201cI\u2019m going to work and my padmate had better not f*** around today or I\u2019ll kill him. Right? So if you see him, tell him that from me.\u201d<\/p>\n
The majority of the Kangas and Cons merely ignored the Wagbo\u2019s declaration. On the other hand, 6 wing cleaners had already designed their next diabolical act.<\/p>\n
The Wagbo returned from work to find that the 2nd<\/sup> bunk had been slept in again. There was a newspaper on his table. A pair of reading glasses lay on the newspaper. On the side was a half drunk cup of tea and a corned beef sandwich – minus one perfect bite. The Wagbo went storming out of his cell, trailing expletives as he barged past people on the stairs and rocked up to the office. After much frantic haranguing, the Wagbo had convinced one of the Kangas to come up to his cell. Unfortunately, by the time they arrived there was no trace of the Wagbo\u2019s padmate or his possessions. The Wagbo started hopping like a cartoon character, the Kanga warned him about wasting his time and a group of wing cleaners rolled around the floor laughing at the show. The rest of the wing mostly ignored proceedings.<\/p>\nThe final straw came when the Wagbo came back to find his cell had been completely stripped. There was nothing but walls, a sink and a toilet. While he had been at work the wing cleaners had taken every scrap of furniture and every possession, stashing them in the showers. As soon as the Wagbo had left for the office the cleaners set about returning everything just as they had found it. When the Wagbo returned with Mr Kanga B in tow there was nothing amiss with the cell, but the Wagbo was resolute.<\/p>\n
\u201cCheck the cameras Mr B. There\u2019s something not f***ing right here!\u201d<\/p>\n
That put the shits up the wing cleaners. About an hour later I was called to the office in my capacity as a diplomatic wing number #1. I walked into the office and saw Kangas B, H, L and R respectively. Mr B did the talking.<\/p>\n
\u201cNow Moose, whatever has been happening to the Wagbo stops now and I want assurances to that effect. If I have to look at the CCTV I will nick every f***er involved and send every one of them to G-wing, having no gym and no extra diets will be the least of their worries.\u201d<\/p>\n
G-wing was a shithole. Mr B was serious. I called the cleaners together and demanded the key. They were glad to be rid of it. An hour later I went back to the office and handed over the offending key.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere did you get this then?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOne of the cleaners gave it to me. It is an old key to the Wagbo\u2019s pad. They weren\u2019t really out to upset him, I guess things just got out of hand. Anyway, you have the key now so it won\u2019t happen again, right?\u201d I was about to turn and leave.<\/p>\n
\u201cWho had it? Which cleaner?\u201d Mr H chimed in.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell I can\u2019t really tell you that. I mean, I sort of guaranteed him immunity – you know, for doing the right thing.\u201d I replied earnestly.<\/p>\n
Mr B chimed in, \u201cWell we never authorised you to give anybody immunity. Who do you think you are? The FBI?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLook Moose, somebody has to get a nicking here. Either you tell us who had the key or we have to nick you – we\u2019ve seen you in possession of the key.\u201d Messrs. H and B looked to each other and then back at me. My arse fell out. How the hell was I going to get out of this? I couldn\u2019t grass on the lads – but I didn\u2019t deserve to take the fall. I took a breath and it hit me. I smiled as I answered.<\/p>\n
\u201cI would love to tell you who gave it to me, but I can\u2019t break confidence. One of the cleaners approached me in my capacity as a Listener. He was in crisis, very ashamed that his actions had upset the Wagbo. He gave me the key and asked me to return it. If I told you who it was I would be breaking the Listener\u2019s Code – and you wouldn\u2019t want that would you?\u201d<\/p>\n
As a Listener I had been trained by the Samaritans. Listeners follow the same strict guidelines on confidentiality. As I spoke I saw that the Kangas were smiling right back at me. The tossers were only on a wind up.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh well if it\u2019s a Listener issue I guess we had better consider the matter closed. Perhaps you might have a cup of tea with the Wagbo and let him know that you\u2019ve fixed his problem. Here, give him these, it should make him happy.\u201d Mr B threw me a few sleeves of Penguin bars. I left the office a relieved man.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
This is another short story in the short story series,<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[247,364,423,502],"class_list":["post-551","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prison","tag-life-in-prison","tag-prison-stories","tag-short-stories","tag-wagbo"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/jailhousemoose.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/551","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/jailhousemoose.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/jailhousemoose.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jailhousemoose.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jailhousemoose.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=551"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/jailhousemoose.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/551\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/jailhousemoose.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=551"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jailhousemoose.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=551"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jailhousemoose.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=551"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}