Part 1 of 2
Fallout From an MCF Visiting Room Kiddie Rape
Warden Biggie Biggins cleared the WSF Control Center gates and strode onto the prison yard walkway; The WSF yard was a large paved oval walkway with housing units dotting its perimeter. The warden was there to meet Tommy Gutierrez, a prisoner the warden knew a long time. Warden Biggins didn’t call Tommy to meet in the Control Center area because he was one of a few prisoners who had no trouble being seen talking to the Warden in the yard. Nobody fucked with Gutierrez.
It didn’t take Tommy long to find the warden.
“You doin’ okay?” Tommy said as he pulled alongside.
“I’m great, how ‘bout you?”
Tommy shrugged, “I’m here.”
“You wanted to see me?”
“Got something you need to know,” Tommy said with that raspy voice that came with having his throat cut while at Jackson prison. His survival only increased his formidable reputation.
They stopped walking and Biggins looked down at him. He looked like a stereotype Mexican: short and dark and built like a fire hydrant with a round chubby face and a mustache hanging morosely from both sides of his nose. Give him a sombrero and he could be a Taco Bell ad.
Tommy waited until a couple of prisoners walked past then said, “You hear what happened at the MCF visiting room last month?”
“You mean the Kiddie rape.”
“Uh huh. Same.”
A sex offender at MCF, a nearby prison, visiting a woman who brought her ten-year-old daughter, raped the child while on visit. It was planned; the convict set up the whole assault by getting the woman to cooperate and bring her child to the visiting room.
Some women make an occupation visiting prisoners. If a woman marries a prisoner while he is in prison, the marriage often doesn’t last once he is out and she is soon back visiting another prisoner. They’re called “token ladies” because at a minimum a convict will use them as a source for tokens, prison currency, that visitors can purchase at a facility’s front desk for deposit in a prisoners account. Their only price is visiting room sex, at a minimum simple frottage.
I’m not sure about the psychology, though I am sure these are abused women desperate for a relationship they can control…and what better than a convict you visit several times a month for a couple of hours, then leave locked up and do whatever the hell you want. You always know where the bastard is. These relationships sometimes become so important women will do whatever necessary to maintain them, such as bringing in contraband and even their own children. The kids are easy prey because they are always fatherless and eager to be with mommy’s boyfriend or newfound “uncle.” However, a problem develops when a prisoner is visiting his token lady and another token lady he’s been grooming shows up to visit. Front desk officers have had to beak up full blown pull your hair scratch your eyes out fights.
If you’re thinking it’s a sick fucking world, you’re right.
Warden Biggins starred at Tommy through narrowed eyes and said, “You telling me some little kid is getting molested in my visiting room?”
Another convict, wearing a snood, and a smile of a frantic Seventh Day Adventist, edged to where they stood and told Tommy he was wanted in his housing unit.
“Beat it,” Biggins said. “He’s not going anywhere.”
Tommy laughed and told the convict he would be along soon.
“You heard my question,” Biggins said.
Tommy looked around to make sure nobody was listening.
“No, ain’t happened yet, but it’s being planned.”
“Who?”
“Guy named Paul Carlson. Locks in B-unit. White guy. Older. He’s married but got a token lady on the side.”
Tommy hated kiddie rapers. As a power rapist, whose target was adult females, among sex offenders Tommy was at the top of the food chain, while pedophiles were at the bottom. Tommy had a reputation for not rating out other convicts, but a nonce was the exception.
“Who’s the victim?”
“Don’t know. Could be his own kid. Could be the token ladies. Could be some kid visiting a different prisoner being brought in special for the assault.”
“Know when?”
“Naw. That sort of thing is real loose. But word is if he makes it work, he and his old lady gonna sell the kid to other perverts in the visiting room.”
“What about the others?”
“What others?”
“The guys Carlson wants to sell the kid to.”
“Don’t know,” Tommy said, then hesitated, “You want I should find out?”
Biggins thought a minute then said, “Naw, I’ll find out.” It was one thing to take volunteered information from a prisoner, and another to send him on a mission. Besides, Tommy’s methods of persuasion could be severe and once applied could blow the case.
“You did hear me, didn’t you? From now on stay out of this,” the warden repeated.
They passed the last housing unit and stopped in front of the chapel.
“Whata you gonna do about what we talked about?’ Tommy asked.
He knew Biggins wouldn’t tell him, but being Tommy Gutierrez, he had to ask.
“Don’t know yet. Gotta think about it”
Tommy shook his head understanding. He also knew the warden was grateful for this information.
“You remember that parole hearing I had at MCF that you attended?”
“Uh huh.”
“You remember when the Parole Board member held up three fingers?”
“Yeah, I do. Signaling that you needed to do thirty more years.”
“Yeah, well,” Tommy said slowly. “That was fifteen years ago.”
“That long, huh?”
“Yeah, that long,” Tommy said with a tinge of bitter irony. “What I’m getting at is it would be nice if you would speak on my behalf at my next hearing”
“You mean fifteen years from now? Seriously? You know I’ll be long retired by then.”
Tommy smiled and said, “That’s okay, I’ll find you.”
Coming Soon, Part 2: The Day the Pastors Wife Condemned Warden Biggins
