My Name Is River Blue (59 page)

I found Bergeron
County and then the Blue Bergeron River that cuts across one corner of the
county through Deer Lake Farm property. I followed the long wavy blue line downstate
and saw that it ran close to Rockville. For four years, I had been staring out
that window at
my
river. I'm not sure he would remember, but on one of
his visits, I told Uncle Manny that if I should die before him that I wanted him
to have me cremated. I wanted him to sprinkle my ashes over the Blue Bergeron
where it cuts across our land. I grinned as I thought of floating all the way
to Rockville and past the prison with not one single care in the world. No one
could ever beat that for freedom.

The bus caught
my attention when it rolled inside the gate and stopped at the reception doors.
I had seen the same sight every week for almost four years. The bus was full of
first-time fish and retreads returning to spend more time with us. As the
prisoners, who were all chained together, moved slowly in their handcuffs and
ankle manacles towards the entrance that led to intake, it was easy for me to
tell the new guys from the old timers, who had already done time in Rockville or
another prison.

The new fish
were generally younger, had fewer tats, and had difficulty walking in chains.
They kept their heads down, but their big eyes warily cut upwards and sideways.
The ones who had been to prison before knew how to walk without tripping, and
some of them had tats that could have only been done in prison by another
inmate with makeshift equipment. They held their heads up and look either
bored, tired, or pissed off, but not scared.

I was about to
turn away from the window when I saw a ghost. Not a real one, but one that used
to haunt my memories just the same. It had been many years, but I only needed
one look to know for sure. He was at the rear of the line of new inmates, and
even if I hadn't recognized him, it would have been easy to tell that it was
not the first time he took that walk.

The sun was very
bright that morning, and I was sure that no one on the ground could see
anything through the sun's glare on the second floor windows, but for whatever
reason, he glanced up and stared for a few seconds directly at me. He smiled,
sending a chill through my body because I knew that he didn't need to see me to
know where I was. He mostly likely had contacts inside the prison and knew all
that he needed to know about me. Maybe even that I was working in the library
on the second floor at the very moment he looked up at the window.

I had always
wondered if he would come. It had been so many years since I had seen anything
but his hands in my dreams, but he was finally making his move. His admission
to Rockville was no coincidence and neither was the timing. He planned for his
revenge to make my worst fear come true. He wanted me to know that after
serving my time, I was never going home. He wanted me to picture my loved ones
hearing the bad news. He wanted to hurt me as badly as he could and then kill
me.

***

I was too quiet
when I met Carlos for dinner. I couldn't eat, and he demanded to know what was
wrong with me. After I told him, he said he would take care of it. I pleaded
with him not to risk any of our guys. I didn't want the warden to hit them with
more time, and I didn't want anyone to get hurt because of me. I told Carlos that
I would be okay, but he planned to talk to the guy and warn him of the
consequences of misbehaving. The new inmates would be through processing later
in the day, and as soon as the COs assigned cells, Carlos would visit. That
evening, Carlos said that he had spoken with the ghost, and I should not worry.
I wanted to believe him, and I tried to be positive, but I didn't think it
would be that simple.

Carlos told me
about the dinner he had planned for Friday night. Two of the gang worked in the
prison kitchen, and they bribed the head cook to buy real steak and fresh
vegetables to cook for my parole party. Often, COs would overlook an innocent
celebration that might not be by the book just to keep peace with a gang leader,
and Carlos had their blessings. I told Carlos if he could continue to persuade
the cook to make decent dinners that he should eat good meals more often. I promised
that after my parole, I would visit him and bring him the fresh fruit he loved.
I also promised to continue depositing money in his prison account. He gave me
a bone-crushing hug that told me he would miss me, and I knew that I would miss
him too.

Uncle Manny and
Tyler would be taking me home Saturday, but I still wanted to call them. I
needed
to call them.

The inmate
phones for my cellblock were located in the day room, only a short walk from my
cell. From the angle I had at our cell door, I could see into the room to know when
the line thinned. I didn't like having guys waiting right behind me while I
talked. It was irritating when they coughed and did other annoying shit to
remind me that they wanted to use a phone. It was better to wait until the
phones were clear than to chance a fight over something so trivial.

Uncle Manny and
Tyler were both home and I surprised them. They didn't think that they would
ever receive another call with an operator informing them that they had a
collect prisoner call from Rockville. I heard Uncle Manny tell Tyler that I was
on the phone, and then there was the familiar change in sound when he put me on
speaker.

"River,
what's wrong? You're still getting out Saturday, right?" Uncle Manny was afraid
that I had bad news. I smiled because he cared so much.

"Yes, sir,
I'm still leaving Saturday, but I wanted to hear your voices."

Tyler's voice. "Shit,
River. You scared me, dude."

"Hey, now,
little man," I teased. "That's twenty-five pushups for cursing when I
get home."

"Whatever,
Daddy." At nineteen years old, Tyler sounded his age when he spoke, but he
still had the same laugh he did at thirteen when his voice was changing.

"Hey,
Tyler, are you still dating Kristen?"

It was hard for
me to keep up with Tyler's girlfriends, and Uncle Manny cracked me up when he
told me that Tyler declared a major in female science. Tyler could have left
home to play college football, but he decided to go to Ackers State because he
was supposedly in love with a local girl. He could also commute from home and
help my uncle with the farm and fitness center business. I wasn't surprised that
he would want to live at home.

"Oh, yeah. I
think she's the one, River. If it's okay with you, I might bring her over
Sunday to meet you. I told her that if my big bro didn't like her, it was
over."

I laughed loudly.
Men, playing cards at a nearby table, paused to look my way. "Yeah, I
believe you'd dump her just for me. Just be safe with her, okay?"

Manny's voice. "I
tell him every day, and every two weeks, I replace a box of protection on his
dresser."

Tyler
interrupted. "River, the man threatens me with a Flores vasectomy. He says
on a horse farm it's known as gelding."

I was laughing
hard. Our conversation was typical, as we always tried to keep things light-hearted.
It was good to laugh with them, but I suddenly sobered quicker than usual. I
wanted so badly to be with them right then, right that moment, that it physically
hurt my stomach. I couldn't shake the feeling that I would miss my parole date,
and I was very afraid that I would never see Uncle Manny and Tyler again.

I was silent too
long. Thinking there might be trouble with the phone line, Uncle Manny and
Tyler had been yelling into the phone. They startled me as Carlos did sometimes
when he shook me hard to wake me from one of my nightmares. I told them it was
all good.

Guys were lining
up again. I had to go. "Hey, guys, I have to jet. Other guys are
waiting."

"I'm glad
you called." Manny sounded happy. "It's going to be so good to take
you home."

Tyler agreed. "For
real, River. We've waited so long. I have the big room next to mine ready for
you. Manny had them take down the old oak we thought might fall, and now you'll
be able to look out your window and see the sun rise over the hill behind the
first barn."

"Thanks for
all you guys have done for me. Since I was a little kid, my biggest dream was
to have a home with a good family, and I was blessed with the best family that
I could've had. The two of you, Grammy, and Grandpa mean the world to me, and I
guess I have to throw in Cousin Howie, the Mackeys, Miss Martin, Coach Haney,
and a few more cousins there in Harper Springs. You guys are all that's really
important to me, and I love you very much."

***

As I finish my "Howie"
pages for the day, my mind is unusually peaceful. My phone conversation with
Uncle Manny and Tyler reminded me how lucky I am to have them waiting for me at
Deer Lake Farm, the most beautiful place on earth to me.

My grandparents
will visit us at the farm in two weeks. Howie, The Mackeys, Miss Martin, Coach
Haney, and other friends want to visit as soon as I'm settled. Uncle Manny has
suggested having a homecoming party for me. I like the idea of seeing everyone
as a group and thanking them for their love and support during the past few
years when their letters and visits helped me so much.

As strange as it
may sound, Ant, Carlee, and Papa have helped me through Rockville as much as
anyone has. During the time that I knew them, each of them became a part of me
and made me stronger and better. Because of them and because of my family and
friends waiting to welcome me back to Deer Lake Farm, I have been luckier than I
ever deserved.

It's taken most
of my life to learn that home is where people love you. No matter what happens to
me, my dream will come true.

I'm going home.

EPILOGUE

By
Howie Spearman

Two days before
River Blue's scheduled parole from Rockville State Prison, he was attacked in
the prison library by Craig Krieger and three white supremacists gang members. According
to his cellmate, River had not carried a shank with him since his first months
in prison, but he took two sharp shanks to work with him that day. He used them
to kill Krieger and another one of his attackers, but during the fight for his
life against four inmates, he sustained more than thirty stab wounds.

CO Tisdale detained
two Latino gang members who had intended to keep a protective eye on River that
morning. When the inmates finally walked into the library, they found River
bleeding and unconscious. As River's ambulance sped across the Blue Bergeron
Bridge towards the hospital, he stopped breathing, and a doctor pronounced him dead
soon after his arrival at the ER. River Blue was twenty-five years old.

The two white gang
members, who left River to die and ran from the library, had little chance of
escaping detection with their clothes bloodied by their own wounds. Passing
guards quickly apprehended the inmates and escorted them to the infirmary for
treatment. Since their wounds were not life threatening, they were treated and
moved to the special secure housing unit for their own safety until their
trials.

The warden
treated the attack as gang violence and ordered the prison on lockdown, which
confined all inmates to their cells for a month. Prison officials hoped that
the cooling off period would prevent any further violence. Within a week after they
lifted the lockdown and their normal routine resumed, COs found the white
supremacist gang leader, known as Dugan, and two of his crew dead in a laundry
storage area. All three inmates had been eviscerated and emasculated, and while
prison officials believed that they knew who ordered the murders, they had no
proof.

River's Uncle
Manny pushed hard for an investigation by state police into his nephew's death.
Information gathered by Latino inmates proved that CO Tisdale of Rockville was
paid to prevent anyone from entering the library area except the white gang
members who attacked River. The guard was arrested for conspiracy to commit
murder, and a source told me that there were other prison staff members under
investigation. Immediately following Tisdale's arrest, attorneys for Manny
Flores filed a wrongful death suit against the state.

River Blue's
remains were cremated and his memorial service was held at Deer Lake Farm in
Bergeron County. The service was private with only River's family and closest
friends in attendance. Afterwards, his Uncle Manny committed River's ashes to
the Blue Bergeron River that inspired his name.

I visited a few
times with River's cellmate, Carlos Perez, and gathered more information about
River and his evolving view of his own life during his four years in Rockville.
I am very grateful to Carlos for his help, his friendship to River, and for
giving me the last pages written by River before his death. I don't pretend to
understand a man like Carlos, who is known to law enforcement and prison
officials as a ruthless gang leader. What I do understand is that River was
family to Carlos, and Carlos cared for him much more than some of the state
employees who were responsible for River's welfare during his childhood.

As opposed as
River was initially to writing his life story, he gathered lessons that he
believed could help him work with kids. He said that when he put his thoughts on
paper that it forced him to see the real River Blue at different stages in his
life. River could clearly see who and what influenced him, and he had grown
into a man who didn't want to dwell on the tragic parts of his life anymore. Instead,
he was inspired to focus on the positive efforts of the people, such as Papa
Ray Long, who led him to his successes. It was his desire to guide other kids,
as Papa had guided him, to the best lives they could have.

During one of
our last conversations, when River was contemplating what he would do after his
parole, he said something to me that I believe best describes where his head
was as he approached the end of his life.

We were sitting
at a table in the prison visitation room, and we had been joking about his
handwriting. He suddenly leaned across the table as if he wanted to whisper a
secret, but he was too excited to whisper. I had never seen his big brown eyes
any brighter, and I'm sure there were other inmates and visitors who must have
thought that he had received early parole news.

"You know,
Howie, I'm glad the book is about done. It's time for me to forget about what I
was, and what I could have been, and it's past time to stop feeling sorry for
myself. It's time I did something with my life that really matters. I told
Uncle Manny that I couldn't think of any better footprints to follow than the
ones Papa left.'

"Did you
know that people like Papa never really die? I'm serious, Howie. He lives in
every kid that he ever helped, and he lives in me. He's going to keep living in
every kid that I can help, and it will go on forever. I'll use every dime he
left me to help kids like Ant and the others I knew. When that money runs out,
I'll raise more. That's what I'm going to do, Howie. I'm going to help Papa
live forever. Believe it!"

Manny Flores
told me that River practically attacked him about his plans not only to
continue Papa's work with children, but also to expand the program. As his
parole date neared, River's plans had evolved into something so ambitious that
it would have surely made Papa smile with pride. As soon as River told his
Uncle Manny what he wanted, the man began laying the groundwork according to
River's instructions.

***

On the one-year
anniversary of River Blue's death, Camp River Blue, a residential treatment
center for at-risk youth, opened its doors to kids who needed love, hope, and a
second chance. The camp was approved and certified by the state and is operated
by professional counselors and staff. The camp director is Miss Angela Martin, River's
former social worker.

The camp can
house up to thirty kids, with separate cabins, restrooms, and showers for boys
and girls, and two cabins for staff. The rest of the camp buildings are similar
to a top-notch summer camp with rooms for classes, recreation, dining, first
aid, and administration. With the buildings and the land required for outdoor
portions of the program, the camp takes up approximately thirty acres and is
located within half a mile of the Deer Lake Farm office.

Funding for the
camp came from River Blue's inheritance, a government grant, fundraising
activities, and the sale of a portion of the old Thomas Farm. Tyler Long sold
farmland he didn't want to a commercial developer who paid dearly for it
because of its location near the new bypass. The bypass was built to give a
faster and safer alternative to taking Hwy 8 up Henry's Hill and around Angels'
Curve.

Several
businessmen in the community made donations with a substantial amount given by
Bill Summers, who committed to lead fundraising efforts in the business
community each year. Camp River Blue currently has the necessary funds for
three years of operation.

***

If you walk into
the administration building of Camp River Blue, you will see a framed short
story on the wall to your left. Manny Flores said that the tale, originally
from Mexico, was translated from Spanish to English. It was perfect for the
boys and girls who became known as “River’s kids.”

Home

by
JT

Once upon a
time, there was a little, brown boy who was sad and lonely. He had no home and
no one who loved him. He set out all alone to find happiness on a long journey
called life. He made mistakes, and he took wrong paths. He stumbled and fell, and
he was lost many times, but no matter how hard the search, the boy was brave
and never quit.

He came to a road
where the light was bright. Heavenly voices lifted his spirits, and he saw the
smiling faces of people beckoning to him. People of many colors offered their
hands while their songs sang to his soul. He walked with them to the end of the
road and his heart filled with all the love and happiness he had ever wanted. There
he found a magical place called "Home."

I hope that
River is forever happy with all the people he loved, lost, and found again.