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reservoir dogs - mr. white

53

[It's not the network device that is projecting the image. It is a high mounted camera in the yard of the prison. The water around the island is blue and inviting just beyond the fences. That is if you can see it. The camera can't. Mr. White can't. Right now he is leaning up on the fence, staring out. He doesn't have any sunglasses to hide his expression. Concentration, worry, subtle despair.

After a moment he pushes off.

The other inmates are working out, smoking, socializing. He walks and keeps to himself, walking stiffly and with purpose. Don't mess with me. Lips purse and he starts to whistle.]

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[Jimmy's been wandering around by the fence, trying to avoid people, or maybe trying to avoid the urge to pick fights. When he sees Mr. White on one of his many aimless wanders around the yard, though, he nods at him.]

Hey.

[And it burns, burns, burns, the ring of fire. That ring of-- it wouldn't be surprising to see familiar faces here. He wasn't expecting to see someone so familiar as Jimmy. White almost smiles.]

Jesus. Hey.

[Looking one way then the other way.]

How the hell're you?

[Not looking like a pinata. That much is good.]

Well, y'know...

[He walks a little closer, his limp more pronounced than usual.]

Not exactly thrilled to be stuck in this shithole, but survivin'. How're you?

Yeah. I know.

[Because he feels the same fucking way. His eyes sort of narrow at seeing his stance.]

Y'all right? ...did that happen here?

[Jimmy always had a sort of lean to his step but more pronounced indeed makes White want to change his assumption that he's unscathed.]

Getting by. This is fucking bullshit.

[No trial. Even if there was, he would have gone in for sure. In that time there's enough mental preparation.]

Did what happen...

[He looks down at his leg, then shakes his head, looking displeased.]

Nah, not in here. Got some schrapnel in it durin' the war, then had some surgery on it that I didn't do a good job takin' care of, then got shot again durin' that whole... bein' stuck on a boat 'n murderin' each other party. Whatever the fuck that was.

That's a son of a bitch.

[White shakes his own head too. Jimmy's still just a kid. He shouldn't have to worry about long term injuries. Hell, he went to war for god's sake.]

...You mean you were on the boat too?

[Without saying anything he sees that they are in the same boat two fold.]

Yeah, I was on the boat. You were too? Didn't see you around, but then, I guess we were all kinda busy tryin' not to get killed.

[Even though some of them had gotten killed anyway. Jimmy had avoided that particular fate, but only just.]

[He was on the boat long enough to fuck up. The rest of the time Orange wouldn't let him leave the cabin for fear of their lives or worse, that White doing someone in would make him leave the City. What would be the point leaving alone?

The logic really was flimsy at the time. Then again, no Einstein ever had to deal with the adrenaline and anger of seeing people trying to take out other people. Or experience the shark like effect that spilled blood does to someone that already is a killer. Whatever the case was, he sure could have used more smarts. Too late now.]

Yeah. I was on the boat.

[White leans against the fence.]

That whole thing was a goddamned mess. First guy they pit me against is the guy who's got the same face as me. Second guy they pit me against has the same face as my... a guy I know back home. You gotta figure they did that shit on purpose, right?

[Jimmy didn't have much of a problem with killing, in general, but that whole weekend had been a clusterfuck from start to finish.]

[Oh. Oh yeah. There is someone else that looks like Jimmy here. His name starts with a J too. Larry remembers a run in or two. The rest of what he's got to say though, the old man shakes his head.]

A nightmare. One that kept on rolling.

[But wait...]

They. You mean you got one of those letters? I did too.

Yeah, didn't we all get one of those letters? I know Justin did, 'n I'm guessin' Mr. Pink did, too.

I dunno. I didn't ask.

[Woah. Wait. Pink? White leans in more, now very interested.]

...is Pink here too?

[Because that makes an alliance of three. Or so he thinks. He doesn't think about that connection that Pink has to someone of Jimmy's world. Whoops.]

You mean is he stuck in this stupid prison? Fuck if I know. Haven't talked to him since I had to apologize for shootin' him in the head.

[His eyes about pop out of his head.]

You did what?

[That weasel, that scumbag. That...roach of a friend. White is really just stunned. In all honesty he should not be surprised in the fucking slightest. They agreed that they got letters commissioning murders. For fuck's sake.]

Damn.

[White's face is combating his orange jumpsuit.]

This place is so fucked.

Well, yeah, I mean, he's the one that shot me in the goddamned leg! What would you have done in a situation like that?

[He wasn't exactly thrilled about it. The guy shared a face with someone he knew pretty damn well, after all.]

I mean, I didn't feel good about it. I apologized 'n all.

That weasel is a shit. He always has been, he always will.

[His hands thump on the fence in anger. Jimmy's a good kid. He shouldn't have to suffer like that.]

...I would have killed him. If not that put him in a hospital.

[Which is criminal activity. They keep going around and round like that. A murder for a murder.]

You're decent. You shouldn't apologize. I'd call it even.

Yeah, well, I guess it's the fuckin' law of havin' that face, or somethin', 'cause the guy I know back home that looks just like him is a weasel and a shit, too.

[A shrug.]

So yeah. I shot him. I killed him. We're good now. You good with whoever you killed?

[Because he assumes that if White is in here, he must have killed someone, too.]

Yeah? Son of a bitch.

[This warrants a sour expression.]

I dunno. I didn't ask. I shot 'er. Didn't even see whether or not it worked out. I'm here so.

[Big shoulders shrug.]

I assume that is a yes. She sorta...I don't even know. Blew me back like there was an explosion. A small one.

You had to shoot a woman? This place really is fucked up, damn.

[Music to his ears. White looks away.]

Maybe a woman? She wasn't no normal woman. Really knocked the wind out of me. Put me through a mirror.

[Dealt some damage but as far as he knows, she's not here either.]

Yeah. Sure is.

[Sigh.]

What I wanna tell you though is that we gotta stick together here, you and me. If you need anything let me know.

Well, yeah, nobody around here's normal, are they? Everyone's got some kinda magic powers, or shit like that.

[Except for him, apparently. And apparently not White, either.]

Yeah, same goes to you, man. 'n when we get outta here, maybe...

[A shrug.]

Well, like I said before. I'm always open to, y'know, partnership opportunities. Business.

Everybody that's not me or you.

[He says to really put all the facts down. Or maybe to check personally with Jimmy. If he were superhuman like the types in Orange's comic books, White wouldn't be here.]

Dunno what sort of business we can undertake in these parts but I got your back.

[The tone of voice drops low in case there's anyone around to snitch on them.]

Well, yeah, I ain't got shit like that, just a gun. And I ain't even got a gun in here, obviously.

[And he really doesn't like the feeling of being without his gun.]

There's always opportunities, right? We'll figure somethin' out.

Sure.

[Though he's not sure what or were or how this will intersect with connections at the casino. Right now an alliance here in the joint would be ideal.]

Keep your chin up.

You too. 'n let me know if you need me to stab anyone for you around here.

[He's only kind of kidding.]

Same, pal. They better not get on you because of that.

[There's a head lean to his leg.]

[He shakes his head.]

Don't worry about it. People give me a lotta shit for it, but that's a mistake they don't tend to repeat.

I worry.

[An honest, soft admission.]

I wouldn't want to have anything happen to you.

[Jimmy's had enough happen. The war. Life here. That shit is a bunch to swallow. Larry says nothing more, already that's too fond. They've just barely become friends.]

[That means a hell of a lot to Jimmy, the fact that someone gives a shit. Most people don't. Most people find him hard to deal with.]

Thanks. You too, y'know? I like havin' you around.

Same.

[Meaning that they are indeed friends.]

...does anyone on the outside know you're in here?

[A roommate he thinks. Maybe a dear friend. Someone they could contact for anything if needed be. White is sure that Orange is still out there. He hasn't had the guts to approach on his own. The jail bird is back in the cage again. Humiliating.]

Well, maybe Penny. I kinda doubt she's stuck in here, 'n she mighta noticed I was gone. Does anyone know you're here?

[He licks his lips. Sounds like Jimmy may have a girl. Or just a friend.]

...No. Not now at least. I dunno.

[Owning up to being locked up is a touchy subject.]

Do you think they'd let us write in here? I'm not fixed in place, no fucking way but if we gotta be...

[As much as Jimmy might wish it to be otherwise, Penny's just a friend.]

Yeah, think they probably would, assumin' we didn't write anythin', y'know... suspicious. Why, you wanna write to someone?

[Pity. Seems like Jimmy can't get a break either. White looks down at his feet and then sorta sniffs like he's clearing his nose. That's what he's doing. When he lifts his head he's still not quite making direct eye contact. Better to keep your eyes on the yard and all.]

Yeah. I think that might be the only way to get in contact. The Network is probably watched like a hawk.

Okay, well, I think it's probably the best chance we've got of talkin' to anyone on the outside. Small note, nothin' noticeable, y'know? Maybe we can get someone to break us outta here.

[He's only half kidding.]

Fuck, man.

[He smiles. Laughs even a little.]

You're a funny guy, Jimmy.

[When he settles down he thinks and thinks real hard.]

I dunno if it would happen. Maybe. Maybe not.

[Good chance at not. He's a cop. What good would that do? Larry doesn't breathe a word. Don't want to tarnish anyone's badge.]

A little help wouldn't be so bad. Some creature comforts, you know? Candy. Cigarettes. Shaving cream.

Well, I'd've suggested we write to Al if we wanted to get broken out, but I got the feelin' he's around here somewhere, too.

[C'mon, a murder boat? Al would have been all over that.]

I sure could use some damn cigarettes, though. 'n there's no way in hell I'm gonna go without shavin'. I'd look like an idiot.

Al? Here?

[More likely than he'd think!]

Well. Can't say we don't got friends on the inside. Push comes to shove, I think we can work ourselves around.

[The gangs of the prison don't appear to be too overbearing.]

Same here.

[It makes White look older obviously.]

I got smokes. Heh. Here.

[He fishes out the box that's in his back pocket. It has seen better days but it is there.]

Consider it free of charge.

[One lousy, blessed cigarette.]

Thanks. I owe you one. Thought I was about to start losin' my mind.

[And Jimmy losing his mind almost always turns into a fistfight, and that never turns out well for anyone.]

Okay, I think we can work this thing out. We try to communicate with some people on the outside, maybe, try'n see what they're thinkin', 'n then, if nothin' else works, we find a way to break ourselves out. We just gotta stick together.

[One smoke will prevent one time. White is a gentleman, he'll go as far as to offer up to light is cig but with no fancy lighter. Just a match if Jimmy would let him.]

I can get behind that.

[Come to think of it, he'll take a smoke for himself.]

Play it cool. I sorta think that they want us here to keep us stewing. Then we'll fuck up. Then we're here longer.

[Jimmy has no need for a fancy lighter -- he pretty much always uses matches himself anyway. He takes a relieved inhale of smoke, nodding.]

Yeah, they're trynna get us pissed off 'cause they just threw us in here 'n we haven't been charged with anythin', y'know? No trial, no nothin'. I bet they expect us to riot, or somethin'.

[More power to him. They'll smoke together like free men.]

Maybe that's what the letter business was all about. Get us comfortable then fuck us over again. But man, you wanna get the chance. And you don't know if you don't try.

[He nods again.]

Yeah, maybe. But y'know, maybe this is just a particularly bad curse, 'n it'll be over soon. Like when the whole zombie thing happened, y'know?

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