"Cellmate Confessions"

Two jailed felons.  Recently arrived.  Billeted together.  Nobody knows why. 

How do they organize cellmates?  It is like one of those dating websites where they fill out a questionnaire, checking the boxes reflecting interests and preferences and the compatible prisoners are thrown in together? 

Or do they deliberately team up the “opposites”, hoping the respective inmate’s “good side” will rub off on their companions, triggering a harmonious interface?

I was thinking about this in Hawaii, as I considered two crimes I was veritably “this close” to committing.  Okay, I actually did commit one of them.  A crime for which, I was adequately informed, my apprehension meant a possible fine or incarceration, or both.

The other crime – I am not aware of the punishment.  But I can imagine – because you can imagine anything – it is a stiff one.

I am thinking today of a situation in which one miscreant committed one of those crimes and the second other miscreant the other. 

And now they are bunking together,

With considerable time on their hands, 

Second-guessing their offences, faced with the price they must pay for committing them.

INT. HAWAIIAN PRISON CELL – DAY

TWO INMATES SHARE CUSTODIAL CONFINEMENT.

“CELLMATE NUMBER ONE” SITS ON HIS BUNK, WOEFULLY SHAKING HIS HEAD.

CELLMATE NUMBER ONE:  What was I thinking?

“CELLMATE NUMBER TWO”, ENGROSSED IN A PAPERBACK, LOOKS UP.  THIS IS THE FIRST TIME “CELLMATE NUMBER ONE” HAS UTTERED A WORD SINCE THEY WERE LOCKED UP TOGETHER. 

CELLMATE NUMBER TWO:  I beg your pardon?

CELLMATE NUMBER ONE:  Sorry.  I was talking to myself.

CELLMATE NUMBER TWO:  Oh.

“CELLMATE NUMBER TWO” RETURNS TO HIS PAPERBACK.   AFTER A COUPLE OF BEATS…

CELLMATE NUMBER ONE:  What was I thinking!

“CELLMATE NUMBER TWO” LOOKS UP AGAIN.

CELLMATE NUMBER ONE:  (WAVING IT OFF, APOLOGETICALLY)  Sorry.

CELLMATE NUMBER TWO GOES BACK TO HIS READING.  AN EXTENDED SILENCE.  THEN...

CELLMATE NUMBER ONE:  What was I…

CELLMATE NUMBER TWO: (SETTING DOWN HIS PAPERBACK)  Do you want to talk?

My whole life, I have never been in trouble.  Once I parked at a parking meter, the back of my car maybe six inches into the “red.”  I got a ticket.  That was the worst thing I’ve ever done.

I am hardly a hardened criminal myself.  Although I have never parked in the “red.”

It was an accident.

I understand.  I once accidentally littered.  A piece of Kleenex fell out of my pocket, and I didn’t notice it, although later, when I went to reach for it, I knew in a second what had happened.  There were no specific consequences to the infraction but I felt terrible about it for months.  I still feel terrible about it. 

Do you want to know what I’m in for?

If you want to talk about it.  You don’t have to.  I’m okay either way.  Although later, I would like to discuss our switching bunks.  The thing is, I am extremely claustrophobic.  The bottom bunk… I mean, the upper bunk falls down on top of me, it’s like I’m trapped in a mineshaft.

We can switch, no problem.  I thought you’d prefer the convenience of the “lower.” 

No.  (HORRIFIED HAND GESTURES AND BULGING EYES)  “Aggghhhh!!!  Can’t breathe!”

Gotcha.  I’m Andrew, by the way.

Phil. 

THE TWO CORDIALLY SHAKE HANDS. 

I’m in for six months.  It could have been longer.  But I had a clean record and a competent attorney. 

So what did you do?

I am almost ashamed to tell you.

How ‘bout we do this.  You tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.  Which I am also not proud of.

Deal.  Okay, so my wife hurt her foot.  Required surgery.  We got a “Handicapped” placard at the “Triple A”.  We parked in an unauthorized area.  We got caught, and I, of course, was driving.

I don’t understand.  I thought a “Handicapped” placard allows you to…

The placard said, “For California Only.”  We used it in Hawaii.   

And you got busted?

Our luck.  I mean, when you think about it, it’s crazy.  The woman’s not just handicapped in California.  She can’t walk anywhere. 

Yeah…

I know.  I was stealing a spot from a Hawaiian handicapped person.  It’s like using the toilet and a handicapped person has to “go.”  I get the principle.  But six months in prison for using an out-of-state “Handicapped” placard?

I got a year.

For what?

I’m a television writer.  Retired.

Really?  What did you used to write?

I don’t want to talk about it.  Although I did win two Emmys.

Wow.  How many do you think Lorne Michaels has?  Like, a hundred?

Anyway… During the “Awards Season”, they send out these “screeners” – DVD’s of the new movies, promoting their consideration for nomination.  Now the Writers Guild rules distinctly prohibit lending those “screeners” to anybody.  You have to literally click on “I Promise” before going on the movie.  So it’s not like it’s a surprise.

You lent out your “screeners?”

To my daughters.

And they squealed on you?

No!  I don’t know who ratted me out.  The kids brought some of the “screeners” to Hawaii and they watched them in the hotel.  I suppose there was some Writers Guild hardliner passing in the hall, they somehow “smelled a rat”, and the next thing I knew, it was “Book him, Dano” and I was off to the calaboose.

And they gave you a year?

It could have been five.  Thankfully the judge had seen Taxi and he recognized my name.

Man, look at us – two dangerous felons.  Do you think that’s why the jails are so crowded – cheating on “Handicapped” placards and lending out movies?

Could be.  The guy next to me in the paddy wagon got nailed for selling two percent milk after its expiration date.   

I say, “String him up!”

THE CELLMATES SHARE A CONSPIRATORIAL CHUCKLE.

Oh, well.  We keep our noses clean, they might let us out early.

I’m with you.  (RISING FROM LOWER BUNK)  I’ll move my stuff down for you.

Thank you.  I’d appreciate that.

“CELLMATE NUMBER ONE” RETRIEVES SOME PERSONAL ITEMS FROM THE UPPER BUNK, SETTING THEM DOWN ON THE LOWER BUNK.  “CELLMATE NUMBER TWO” RETURNS TO HIS READING.  THEN STOPS.

You know, there’s one thing I don’t get.  

What's that?

I understand your circumstances.  But if your “Handicapped” placard said “For California Only”, why did you think it was permissible to use it in Hawaii?

“CELLMATE NUMBER ONE” STOPS WHAT HE’S DOING.

I’m sorry?

You knew you were contravening a state regulation.

My wife couldn’t walk.  The parking lot was like a mile from the luau.

Yes, but you were aware it was wrong.  Still, you blatantly flouted the rules.

Hey, you lent out your movies.

To my daughters!  Who did that hurt?

I was helping my wife!

Sure.  While forcing some Hawaiian handicapped person to limp – or possibly crawl – all the way from the parking lot. 

So what are you saying?  That you don’t belong here but I do?

You broke an actual statute.  I broke a Writers Guild provision.

You betrayed your own colleagues!  You ought to be drummed out of the union!

Listen!  I’ve paid dues for over forty years.  You come to Hawaii and think you can do what you want!

Be careful, Mister.  My patience is limited.

Are you threatening me?  You know, I’ll bet there are some pretty tough inmates with disabled relatives on the outside.  Wait’ll I tell them about you!

You wouldn’t!

You gonna stop me? 

A TENSION-FILLED BEAT.  THEN “CELLMATE NUMBER ONE” THROWS HIMSELF VIOLENTLY AT CELLMATE NUMBER TWO.”

I’ll kill you!

THE TWO INMATES GO AT IT WITH FEROCIOUS INTENSITY.  TWO GUARDS HAVE TO COME IN AND BREAK UP THE FIGHT.  AN UNEASY TRUCE IS ESTABLISHED, THE GUARDS FINALLY EXITING THE CELL.

GUARD ONE:  Fifty bucks say the two of them are in “The Hole” in a week.

GUARD TWO:  Man!  Those movie lenders are nasty!