Life at Hard Labor chapters 36-40

Author: Fumpa
Title: Life at Hard Labor chapters 36-40
Date: 13 July 2011

I Feel it's necesseary to remind you all that some of the scenes in this story are very intense, and should not be attempted by anyone. this is this is work of complete fiction. I do not condone any of the actions, or situations portrayed in this work of fiction. It is a work of gay, erotic fiction which has elements of hard discipline, bondage, forced labor, and sex. If you are under 18, find such material objectionable, or if such material is restricted by the laws in your area, please read something else.

Chapter 36

An hour or so after we had finished our meal, Jake and Lee’s tree finally fell. They had given no warning call, and it fell the wrong direction; landing a few yards away from Mark and Nate. I watched as it fell missing both, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

“WHOA!!! WHAT THE HELL BOYS?!” Shouted Nate.

“God damn Jake, what the hell is this shit?! God damn near crushed me!” Mark spouted out as he threw down his axe, and walked towards the boys. Had he had a strap, it would have been in his hands ready to swing.

The tree would not have killed Mark or Nate, as the serum prevented death and debilitating injury, but having a tree fall on you is still having a tree fall on you. It would mean a few weeks in the infirmary in agonizing pain as the serum repaired the bones and muscle cells. You would return to work with the pain and stiffness still lingering for some months. It was not a good way to get out of work. There were none.

“Sorry man.” Said Jake in an all too uninterested tone.

“Watch what the fuck you’re doing, and call out next time! God damn!!” Sputtered Mark “THAT IS IF YOU MANAGE TO CHOP ANOTHER ONE DOWN BEFORE QUITTIN TIME.” He added sounding very much like his old self.

Jake just shook his head and set back to work at his usual pace. Had he known Mark’s history, he would have no doubt been a bit more inclined to satisfy. Chuck was getting seriously angry. Hollis had to talk him down.

“Hey man. Wait till tonight. They’ll learn one way or another.” he said to Chuck.

After a few more trees were felled, Chuck called us in, and gave us further instruction.

“Alright boys, these are gonna be firewood, so we gotta buck em, and break em down. Matt, Miner, Buck and Craig line up with me, and Hollis, you school Nate and Mark with Jake and Lee.

The two groups lined up in front of separate logs. “First we gotta buck em. Chop off these branches up top here.” The pines only had a modest length that bore branches and leaves, so bucking them was not much work. “Once we buck em, it aint too complicated. Just swing your axe down to the log and at an angle. We need to break this thing down into pieces.”

Once we removed all the branches from the top, we stood a few feet apart, and began to swing at the long, bare log that remained. Chuck’s strong, firm minded swings contrasted our unsure, yet still weighty efforts. I was next to Chuck, and he swung like a wild man, but he never missed. Sweat poured from his short hair, and gave an immaculate sheen to his tanned chest, but he showed no signs of slowing. He struck the dirt below the log well before we were three quarters of the way through.

Jake and Lee could not hide from work here. They were right next to Mark, who though calmed down from earlier was still breathing heavily, squinting, and grunting loudly as he chopped. This was the first time I saw these two working hard. Jake managed to keep pace with the others. That really got to me. This kid had every bit of strength I had in my 12th year, and he chose to be lazy. As a result, it was unlikely that we would meet our tally.

When the log was chopped into pieces, we began to split the pieces into firewood. This was familiar. In my old life, I once had to split wood in this manner after it had been divided up with a chain saw. I couldn’t remember why I had to do it manually. It was something about character building or the wood burning better. Of course here in prison there were no chainsaws, so swinging an axe was a moot point. There was no mistaking that this was hard labor, and it was necessary to fend off the cold.

“There’s a saying where I come from.” I said to Buck who was panting, and sweating as he took off his thermal shirt. “He who chops his own wood, warms himself twice.”

Sweat poured off his brow as he took a firm swing. The split log fell aside. We were all getting better with an axe, but no matter how good you are with one, it’s still hard work.

“What about the boys who don’t want to be warmed once?” Buck joked in reply to my corny proverb as he patted his forehead with a rag.

As I looked at the sweat dripping from his blonde flat topped, dirty head, I really struggled to find an answer. What about the people who didn’t want to be warmed once? The people who didn’t drive on the gravel they threw out onto the roads? The people who didn’t eat the sugar from the cane they cut?

I just chuckled. We all knew the answer. It didn’t matter what we wanted. Wood was needed, and we chopped it. That was it. There was no choice. That point would be driven home to Jake and Lee that night, and into the following day.

It took a while to chop the rest of our trees into firewood, and then we had to stack and bale it. I was hustling like I’d never hustled. We took no breaks, not even for water. We were up to 18 cords, but despite our best efforts, we did not pick up Jake and Lee’s slack. The nineteenth cord was short about 10 pieces, and the day was done.

A boss blew a whistle, as ox men were carting off the last few cords of wood. A few were taken close to the bunkhouse, but most were piled up on trucks, waiting to be shipped to the rail yards, or the homes of bosses.

“Chuck, your crew’s short. Care to explain yourself?” I overheard Boss Gordon who had pulled Chuck aside.

“I’m sorry boss, Jake and Lee here were sittin with their thumb up their ass most of the first half of the day, and we couldn’t pick up their slack. It’s been three days now. I can only beg that you don’t strap us all up out there. The new guys really held their own out there today.”

“Don’t worry Chuck. I’ve been keeping an eye on those two. They’ll learn.” Gordon said.

“Yes boss.” Said Chuck.

“Alright, get to the mess hall.” he said to Chuck, and then called to Jake and Lee. “JAKE AND LEE FALL OUT!” and the two walked up, their heads held low, but staring forward. As I walked off, leaving the two, I noticed that Gordon had brandished his baton, but turned the shocker on it off. I wouldn’t see Jake or Lee until the next day.

We slumped back into the bunkhouse hungry and tired but without credits to spend on an evening meal. Luckily, the rest of the convicts in the timber camp were not so selfish and lazy as Jake and Lee. A few knew us from the cane field, and gave us a few cigarettes, and a few plugs of dip for our empty cans. The veteran timber-men had 4 credits to spend, and a half of one to buy a good man a meal was no loss to them. Despite not getting credits, we ate our full rations. No one ever went hungry in the timber camp, unless the bosses said so.

“God damn thanks man.“ I said as I slurped the broth and lean meat. “What’d you say your name was, Adam? I’m Matt.” I shook hands with a hairy yet limber man with a full black beard and short hair.

“Any time bud.” He said “That’s a bum deal you boys got. I saw you. You boys were bustin ass. I’d hate to be Jake right now though.” He patted me on the back, and walked off to meet his friends.

Craig, Miner, and Buck walked up and sat at the table near me. Chuck and Hollis had already gone to bed after their generously donated meal. They knew better than we did what we would be doing tomorrow. Mark and Nate were sitting privately, and discussing Nate‘s military days. Mark was curious as to what he had missed out on. That night, they would get even better acquainted. Jake and Lee’s bunks were empty.

“God damn. I don’t care how lazy they are, I feel bad for em.” Said Miner.

“Yeah, but they’re gonna have to learn one way or another. I can’t help but wonder who the hell brought them in.” Said Craig. When I was new, and Craig brought me in, he made sure I knew that I should give it my all, and that he was here for me. I learned both lessons well, and was a better person for it. Obviously Jake and Lee lacked such a good induction.

“Hollis told me at midday.” Said Buck. “Them two came in and did a year on the road crew before the detail ended. Within a month, they both filed for a split from their bunkmates just to try to get a better assignment, as if the road crew was somehow worse than busting your ass in a quarry, or getting the shit kicked out of you in the field.”

“Well come on, how the hell could they have known that?” I asked.

“By askin their damn bunkmate!” said Buck. “God damn. I don’t get those kids. Anyway, they sucked some clerk’s dick, and they got assigned to the timber camp.”

“That explains a lot.” Said Craig. “Still, we’re gonna have to be there for em tomorrow. Even if they slack the rest of the detail, they’ve gotta learn how to act decent to a fellow con. We gotta lead by example.”

“Damn right.” I said. I took out the pack of cigarettes from the cane field, and noticed that only two remained, but one was the other Joint the trustees had given us.

“God damn, spark that thing up!” Said Buck.

“Alright, alright. Keep your damn pants on…” I struck a match, and took a few puffs from the joint, and passed it to Buck on my left. As the mess hall filled with the scent of pot, we began to laugh, and smile. We talked about Craig’s early days in the prison camp. He had accidentally thrown a sledge clear across the quarry and it landed on its head in front of a boss. He got a choice between lashes and pushups, and took the pushups. He barely made it to 20, and was out the rest of the day. He spent a week in the box.

We talked a bit about my exploits as well, both free and convicted. Miner told us a story about how he used to grow mushrooms down in the mine to sell at a farmers market. God I missed mushrooms. Buck relayed a story about how he had been thrown in the box for excessive flatulence.

“God damn boss man leaned over in front of the airholes and he says, ‘TAKE A GOOD WHIFF BOY, AND SEE IF YOU FEEL LIKE FARTING AGAIN.’ and then he shit his pants. Honest to god, he shit his pants. He fucking waddled away cursing and spitting and I saw it run down his leg. Even sitting there in the box ready to sit there for a damn week, I couldn’t stop laughin.” Buck finished, laughing in a high pitched, southern belly laugh.

I was in tears laughing so hard. I pounded the table, and put my head on it. In that brief moment as I leaned forward with my eyes shut and my sides hurting, the years of hell and toil melted off. We were just four hard working men, bullshitting, and enjoying a good buzz. The word convict was not in our minds, but like every other joy that we managed to scrape out of our meager, callous life it was put to an end by the evening bell.

“ALRIGHT BOYS, LAST BELL. GET MOVIN.” Belted out one of the night guards.

“God damn, already?” I said.

“This shit’ll do that to you. You lose track of time.” said Buck. “Here you go. Thanks bud.” He handed me the roach from the joint.

“Anytime.” I said, and plucked it out of his calloused hands. I threw it in a nearly empty dip can I had in my front pocket.

We walked out of the mess hall, and the bunkhouse was glowing orange from the woodstoves. There were clotheslines hanging across the aisle between some of the bunks, on which were hung wet, dirty socks, underwear and jeans. There were boots stacked under the stove, and there was the sound both of crackling wood, and snoring men.

We silently walked to our bunks, and got right in. Buck gave me a pat on the back, and turned to Miner. They got into Buck’s bunk, and dropped their pants.

I turned to Craig, and silently asked “You up to it?”

“Was it heads or tails?” he said.

“It was heads, but you called it.” I said. He lay on my bunk, and unzipped his pants. He stroked his cock and it was soon pointing to the ceiling. I bent over, and put my mouth on it, cupping the head and part of the shaft in my folded tongue. As I stroked my own cock, I moved back and forth, and as Craig leaned up in a moan of pleasure, a can of dip rolled out of the pocket which hung at his knees. It was the first time we had actually flipped a something like a coin, and what do you know, it came up heads. I saw the lid come off slightly. A few moments later, Craig also came. He moaned, but it was scarcely heard above the snoring. It was a huge load, and it was hot. I swallowed, and then said “Like I said, you called it.” I said looking at the can of dip on the ground. We kissed, and cleaned ourselves off, and then kicked off our boots.

“You’re a damn good man.” I said to Craig.

“You too.” he said. “I still remember how you bought me dip with your first cred. It was all the money you had. I‘d never seen new meat act that right.”

“I remember the food you bought me, and letting me win the coin toss my first night.” I said. “People aren’t like that where I come from. That’s why I always wanted to be out in the woods.”

“We’ll see how much you like the woods tomorrow buddy. Night.” He finished.

“I hear you man. Night.” I said

Despite the snoring, we slept soundly for the remainder of the evening, and so did Buck and Miner. It was good that we did. We needed all the sleep we could manage. Craig was right; I’d learn a lot more about the woods tomorrow.

Chapter 37

The morning bell rang, and the bunkhouse was cold. Through the night, trustees had kept the stoves full of firewood, but in the morning they had burned out. The morning meal was similarly cold. I didn’t mind cold grits; I’d been eating them since my first day those countless years ago. Still, something about them just tasted worse. It was like a herald of a bad day. I had almost dared to hope that I had left bad days behind in the cane field, but I knew better.

“You boys went to bed late.” Said Chuck. “I hope you’re gonna be alright. I’m glad you were smokin instead of drinkin though. That hooch will give you a hell of a headache.”

“Yeah, I learned that the hard way.” I said. The hard way… That reminded me of Jake and Lee. They were not in the mess hall as we ate. I really wondered if the boss had tied them up deep in the woods, or if they were right there at the edge. As if he read my mind, Chuck continued.

“We gotta keep an eye out for Jake and Lee today. If cons don’t find them, they just leave them out there. They’ve been pissing me off, but we still gotta help them.”

“Why, what are we doin today?” Asked Miner

“Sloggin.” He said.

The word stuck in my gut. I hadn’t felt that sickly feeling of anticipation since I was first sentenced. I didn’t need a definition; I knew the word meant hell.

We filed out, and instead of axes, Chuck grabbed a few lengths of heavy hemp rope. We met up with boss Gordon at the edge of the woods.

“They’re straight back. Whole mess of em. Get movin, time’s a wastin.” he belted at us. Chuck took off into the woods at a brisk pace. We walked about a half an hour, and finally we came upon several huge trees that had already been felled and bucked. Lying on their side, they were as tall as my waist, and wide. Chuck tied a rope tightly to the front, and Hollis tied one to the rear. They lashed them together in a kind of arcane knot work that I could not describe. It had ten ropes hanging off it which we grabbed on to.

“Ready, 1, 2, 3, PULL!” shouted Chuck, and all eight men struggled forward. Every ounce of my strength and thought was directed at pulling that log, and we inched on and on. After a few minutes, I noticed that my foot was sinking into a wet, sloppy mud hole.

“KEEP MOVIN!” Shouted Chuck. He was not being harsh, but he did not want to lose momentum. Soon, the mud became the muddy bottom of a flooded river plane.

At first, the mud only came up to my ankles, but now every step was an effort. My leg sunk down to the knee in the thick mud, and I had to work hard to pull it back out. I was beyond happy that I had tied my work boots tight that day.

After a while of lumbering through the mud, there was finally a bit of water, and we saw the river. I was up to my waist in water, and my jeans clung to my legs and cock as I moved forward. Finally we reached the river, and set the log loose to join hundreds of others which would float downstream to the saw mill.

We slumped back through the swampy water. I was freezing cold and wet. I really wondered at that point whether or not I could do this all day. It hadn’t dawned on me that it only took a half an hour of pulling to reach the river, but what a half hour. It felt like five. As we got out of the swampy water, I was dripping wet, and I noticed the breeze. My bare feet sloshed in my wet boots, as muddy water oozed out.

“I wonder what the hell this shit is like in the summer.” I thought to myself. I knew the answer. Only one word entered my mind. Mosquitoes. In the winter they were dormant, but come summer time, these bastards would have the blood meal of their lives, munching on 50 sweaty convicts who had no choice but to stay in the woods, and get sweatier.

“Shit…. I think….” Said Miner “HEY! THAT’S JAKE!” He pointed up at a slender red pine, and there he was, tied half way up the tree, and facing it with his arms tied around it.

I looked lower to the ground nearby, and found Lee. “LEE’S OVER HERE!” I said. He had been tied to a tree, and was sitting in frigid mud, bare naked with legs stretched out to other trees by long rope. His butt was purple, and he was shivering. We had passed him while pulling the log, but did not hear or see him while we pulled as he was gagged, and on the other side of the tree.

“Here! I’ll cut him loose.” Said Chuck, and he took out a small pocket knife. They let him have a pocket knife? These bosses seemed to know little about logging, and next to nothing about running a prison. I wondered if they would last the month.

Chuck and I carried Lee to dry ground by the logs we still had to pull. I took off my denim work shirt which was still mostly dry, and gave it to him. He sat shivering. “T….thank you. Oh god….oh god, god, god. I was screaming at the top of my lungs through the g-gag. I thought you were going to leave me. I’m so sorry, so sorr…” He shut his eyes and breathed heavily, rubbing his arms under my shirt.”

“Hey man, just try to warm up. We gotta get Jake down.” I said.

Craig had already climbed the tree, and tried to get Jake down, but he was still up there in the wind.

“He’s chained up there. It’s locked tight. We gotta go back for an axe or something.” He called to Chuck as he slid down.

“No need.” he said, as he took out a key. He knew the punishment, and had a hand in giving it to them. He was given the key by Boss Gordon. This was why you didn’t fuck with Chuck. I was a little pissed at him for putting a fellow con through this shit, but I kept my mouth shut. Hopefully the two brats would learn from this experience.

Chuck handed the key to Craig who scurried up the trunk again like a spider monkey. He undid the lock, and grabbed Jake saying “Alright buddy, I’m gonna get you down. “

Jake had been tied with a chain at his waist, and another chain which was as tall as the tree. Craig held that chain in his free hand, and lowered Jake slowly. Buck and Nate were there to catch him, and Craig finally let go, and scrambled back down the tree.

“What the hell do we do with them? They can’t work like this.” Said Mark. Jake was completely passed but Lee was wide awake.

“I can work.” Said Lee. “God I’m so sorry for being such a lazy ass. I was just trying to make my life as easy as possible.”

“I don’t blame you son, but this is a prison camp. They don’t do easy out here.” Said Chuck. “So, are you gonna work hard from now on?”

“As hard as I can.” Lee said. “As hard as you want me to.”

“That’s damn fine boy. I knew you’d come around. Can you walk?”

“Yeah.” He got up, and took a few brisk steps to show him.

“Alright, then I want you to help Matt here, and carry Jake back to the edge of the woods and find a boss. You both need to see the meds. Matt, when you‘re done, come on back out here. You remember the way?”

“It’s pretty much straight back. I’ll find you.” I said.

I grabbed Jake’s doughy shoulders, and Lee grabbed his feet. He was a little wobbly, but he managed to walk.

We walked for some ways through the woods, but Lee began to slow down and struggle.

“You got him?” I said to Lee who was panting hard.

“Let me take a rest. Let’s set him down.” He was almost talking about Jake the way one would talk about a couch.

“You don’t look so good kid. They got you out here in the timber camp way to early on.” I said.

“I know that now.” He replied as he panted. “I heard you could slack off out here, but that’s bullshit isn’t it?’

“You can slack off anywhere in this prison if you feel like getting whipped to shit and stuffed in a box.” I said.

“Or tied to a tree.” He said. “I’m alright now. Let’s go, I see the edge.”

We reached the edge of the forest where convicts were chopping down smaller trees. A boss spotted us, and walked up.

“Heh. Well boys sleep well?” he said to Jake and Lee. “Alright M-009-D, we’ll take em from here.”

“Yeah boss.” I had to comply, but I was a little scared that the two would be tortured further. My fears were partially laid to rest when I looked back and saw two guards with red crosses on their arms walk up with a stretcher.

I headed back into the woods. This was the first time in more than 100 years that I was completely alone. Even when they had me in the box, someone was usually in the box next to me. In the old world, I had cherished my alone time, and took great solace in getting away from some of the insipid jackasses I had to deal with; jackasses like Jake.

Out here though, I felt lonely, and a little frightened. It was the middle of a pine wood with no path or landmark. I knew by the sun which direction to go in… or did I? I walked for several minutes and heard no one.

After a few more minutes of walking, I finally heard footsteps in a path up ahead. “There’s that path. That’s gotta be a convict. I can ask him where Chuck went.” I thought to myself, but when the people walked into view, I was taken aback. They wore bright yellow jackets, and had nice white sneakers on. They were walking a chocolate Labrador dog, and talking.

“Well ya know, he just can’t apply himself! I mean the kid is sooo smart but he just doesn’t respect his TEACHers.” Said a middle aged woman with a comical Yooper accent. Just hearing those few high pitched whiny words made my head hurt.

“Well who could blame him? That lady is such a flake.” Said a much blander, lower peninsula, Michigan accent. They walked past and took no notice of me.

As they walked out of sight, I saw a brown trail marker sign. I ran towards it, but as I got closer, I found that I could go no further. There was nothing but trees where there had once been a path. I still have no idea if I had truly phased back into the old world that day, or if I had just hallucinated the whole thing. I heard other footsteps, but these were sloshing through mud. I heard Chuck shout “PULL!”

Thinking nothing more of the Michiganites, I ran up to take my place at the log, and continued to drag my tired legs through the mud with my friends. I had made my decision years ago on the road crew. I had no ear for vapid middle aged women bitching about their slacker kids, and no great desire to go back to that
I looked over at Craig’s straining and sweating face, and smiled, as I too struggled to drag the log to the river. My smile soon vanished, as mud sunk into my boots.

Chapter 38

We sat on a felled tree in the dry patch at midday, and ate a healthy portion of beans which were ice cold from having been brought out that far. Our pants were no longer blue, but soaked, and covered in sloppy mud. There was a stream of sweat on each of our blue denim shirts, but it was too cold to take them off. Lee had handed me back mine before we had lifted Jake, and thanked me for it. Lee would come around and clean up his act, but I didn’t know about Jake.

“We done pretty good for being short a couple of men.” Said Buck.

“That don’t matter really.” Said Chuck. “What you need out here is muscle, and those kids didn’t have it. We just met quota with that last log.” he said. I was shocked. How could that be?

“Not much of a quota…” I said in confusion.

“The hell you say?” said Hollis. “You only missed one, so I know you’re about as tired as us.”

I was tired, but I didn’t think we had actually hauled that many trees. “Well yeah, but we only got like 10 or something didn’t we?”

“Try 20.” said Buck. “You feelin alright?”

“I guess, my mind‘s been wandering or something.” I said.

“Hah! Damn! You hear this kid? You’ve been working harder than any of us, and you still got time and energy to daydream. You didn’t stop once bud.” Buck said. Someone had been on the logs pulling at all times, but every once in a while, you could let go, and crack your back before you got right back to it. I hadn’t done that once.

I stretched my arms and cracked my shoulders “Wow. Maybe I’d better ease up.”

“That’d be a good move.” Said Chuck. “We can take our sweet time now. We’ll damn sure exceed quota. I’m gonna use my extra cred to buy a meal for Lee.”

“I’ll get one for Jake.” said Hollis. “If he’s awake to eat it…”

“You think they’ll fly right?” Said Miner

“Lee, sure. Jake, maybe.” Said Chuck. “To be honest, I don’t know how much longer they’ll be out here. Bosses gotta be getting tired of them, and he can ship em off to the quarry and hand pick two others any time he wants.”

“Who knows.” I said, “Either way, they’re gonna need friends tonight. I had a talk with Lee, and he seems to be comin around. And if Jake doesn’t, I think what needs is a good boss to get him in line. That’s you Mark.”

“Me?” said Mark “What do you want me to do, whoop em? I half wanted to yesterday, but I really can’t do it. Not after what they made me do to them boys on the chain. What they made me do to you Matt.”

“No, no, no.” I said. “Hell no, I didn’t mean that. I meant put the fear of god in him. Make him think you‘re gonna kick his ass. Get mean. Hell, that worked well enough with me sometimes, remember?”

“I guess so.” he said.

“And there he goes guessin again!” said Buck. “Naw, but I think Matt’s on to something there Mark. Jake aint getting no discipline out here, no offense to you Chuck. As much as I hate a lickin, I know it could come at any time, and if he don‘t learn that now he‘ll have a hell of a time on a different detail.”

“Yeah, I’ve been soft on em.” said Chuck. I didn‘t think being tied to a tree in the freezing cold was being soft, but perhaps Chuck had a different definition of the word. “Even after yesterday, I still feel for the bastards. I aint cut out for disciplining. What do you think Mark?”

“Well, if he doesn’t make an effort when he gets back to work, I’ll see.” said Mark. “I wouldn’t mind getting in his face. He could use that. I won’t beat him though. Leave that to the bosses.”

“They aint gonna do shit.” Said Hollis. “I bet come summer they’ll be long gone, and we’ll go back to the hard times.”

“As much as I’d like to think it won’t happen, Hollis is right.” Said Chuck. “Use to be, we didn’t direct our own work the way we‘re doin now. We had mean ass bosses out here wearing waders, and whipping us on as we pulled through the mud in just our jeans and our boots. When the commission comes out here and finds out how easy we got it, they’re sure to crack down hard on the bosses, and harder on us. It’s gonna be right in the heat of summer too.” Chuck’s speech had silenced all of us, and we stared out into oblivion relishing the likely small amount of freedom we had left.

I set down my plate, and lit a cigarette. I held it to my mouth with my sappy, dirty fingers, and took a long hard drag. We had been sitting a good five minutes longer than the usual time allotted for the midday meal, and we’d sit another five to smoke a cigarette. As hard as it was to struggle through the muddy swamp, we did have it relatively easy in the timber camp. We had already met our quota for the day, and we would likely only haul 10 or so more and these were lighter.

We were by ourselves while our guard went hunting for fowl. I heard a few shots, and flapping wings in the distance. I was still dripping wet, but I was relaxed. I listened to the clicking dead leaves that still fluttered in oak trees. A leaf fell on my pant leg, and I picked it up; a spot of water clinging to it from my wet jeans. It was a shapely leaf, not pointy like some oaks. It had rounded features, and tapered to a graceful stem. It was the most beautiful thing I had seen since that sunrise on the road crew, and it was just a dead leaf. In the summer, it would be all that much more beautiful, but I likely wouldn’t notice. Hard labor convicts rarely have it easy, and when they do, it’s for a short time.

We got back to work, and Chuck tried to explain the rope work to me, but my Boy Scout knowledge failed me here. I remember a laminated cardboard placard I got from the scouts describing various knots with pictures of red ropes and white ropes indicating the motions, and the placements. There were soft cords they gave us to practice with. There was nothing on that placard that described tying heavy hemp rope around a thick log so that 8 men could pull it through a cold marsh waist deep in muddy water.

We slogged back and forth, pulling the logs through the swamp to the river about 12 more times. Our legs and feet were wet and cold, while our chests and heads were sweaty and warm. We left our shirts on; knowing that if we took them off, the chill air would chill the sweat building up. As good as we were doing, and as short a time as we had to go, we were all miserable and cold. Camaraderie only goes so far in situations like that. It served only to keep us going, and offered little cheer.

Miner lost a boot in the thick mud. There was a slight stunted laugh from us, and I knelt down and helped him to dig through the mud to look for it. We gave up when both of our arms were covered to the shoulder in mud. It was luckily only one docked credit for loosing a boot, but he had to suffer through the rest of the day plunging a bare foot down into the cold mud. When we had five hours to go, it started to rain.

The last log we pulled was a little taller than my waist, and heavier than sin. We strained, pulled, wrenched, and slowly moved it toward the river. I pulled hard, and slipped, falling face forward into the river. I hit my head on the log trying to thrash up to my feet, and passed out. Miner was behind me, and he had his eyes closed in a strain, when he stepped on my motionless form.

“Oh hell! God damn, MATT!” He pulled me up, and laid me on the log. We were both up to our waist in muddy water, as he tried to bring me back. I was in no danger of dieing, but I would suffer immensely if they had to bring me to the infirmary to have the life pumped back into me.

I spit up a bit of water, and coughed, being held by both Miner and Craig, two men I had met in prison my first day. I saw their rough faces and their kindly eyes and I breathed heavily still coughing. My head felt like it was dreaming the whole thing.

“God damn, you alright buddy? Shit, man I didn’t mean to do that to you.” said Miner.

“Stay with us man. You don’t want to have to go to the infirmary.” Said Craig.

“I’m alright. Just hit my head hard.” I said.

“Miner, help him back to dry land.” said Chuck “We gotta finish haulin this thing. Last one today boys. Let‘s move it.” As he hefted his rope, Craig looked back knowing I was in good hands, but he was still a little worried.

“Here lean on me bud.” Miner said. I leaned my hard muscled arm on his strong shoulder, and we plunged back toward the dry patch. We had to wade back nearly the entire distance. My head was pounding, but I was breathing better.

“God damn we don’t deserve this shit man.” Said Miner. “I wish I’d a met you on the outside. You said you came from somewhere else, and you didn’t have no job here, I coulda got you one down in the mine easy.” His legs plunged forward through the water.

“I would have had just as hard of a time. I wasn‘t like I am now.” I said. “You remember how I was. I was pasty, chubby, and dull. Now you tell me that fat ass I used to be would have done well in a fucking coal mine. You wouldn‘t have thought twice about me.”

He thought about it, “You’re right bud, but still…”

“I know man.“ I said, feeling a bit better. “I feel the same way now that I know you. I would have loved havin you there at my old job, Craig and Buck too. Still, I wouldn‘t wish that mind numbing crap on anyone. Even the bosses. You guys would have made that monotonous shit tolerable though.” My leg sunk into a deep hole, and I faltered, but I was quickly back up on my feet.

“I know it sounds corny as hell, and you’re probably damn tired of hearin it, but you’re what makes this shit tolerable. Something about you dude, you’re just I don’t know…” Miner said to me in an encouraging tone.

“You’re the same way. First day, I thought you fucking hated me till we had to put our uniforms on. Just that look you gave me said something.” I said, “Then that day we got off the chain gang, it’s like you pulled me back from hell.”

“We pulled each other. Leading that damn chain gang was fucking mind crushing. Yellin all day like a fucking ape… Now Mark’s tellin us we’ll probably have to go through it again.” Miner said as we finally got into drier land.

“What did he call it? Breaking us down.” I said. “We can get sent there one more time from strikes unless we keep our asses in line for 500 years. Then we’ll only go there if we attack a boss.”

“We’ll never make it that long.” Said Miner. “One more cane detail, and we’ll be right back.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” I said. “Then it’ll be out of the way though. Same thing; after that we’ll only get put on if we go apeshit. Besides, I doubt they want us on the cane field again.”

Miner stood still and then sat on a log. He held his eyes with his strong hand and hung his head low. There were no visible tears, but I could still feel them coming out of his once proud face. In my early days in the quarry, I remember thinking that once I had done 100 years, I’d probably stop feeling sorry for myself. I didn’t know then that my 100th anniversary would pass on a chain gang, moving in unison, and wearing heavy coveralls.

I sat down next to Miner and patted him on the back. My cigarettes were soaked, so I threw them aside near the branches that had been bucked from the trees. I had always expected to be the one people would have to console, and never though I’d have to do any consoling myself.

“Yeah buddy, we’ve been through hell, but that’s the thing. We’ve been through. We can do it again.” I offered him a plug of dip. It had stopped raining, and the roach from my joint the night before was miraculously dry, as were a few matches I had kept with it. I sparked it up, and handed it to him. He was supposed to be helping me with my mild concussion, but I was more than willing to help him with his depression.

There were only about three hits for both of us, but it gave us a slight buzz, and lifted Miner’s spirits. I didn’t realize our peril. As I took my last hit, I heard another shot, and more flapping as the cloudy light faded.

“Fuck.” I said in a hushed voice as I ground the joint down into the mud with my boot. I covered it, but the smell lingered. Miner was shaking.

“What the hell is this shit?!” Belted out boss Gordon; shouldering his bird gun. “You boys slackin off? Where the fuck is Chuck?”

“They’re uh…” stuttered Miner.

“THAT FUCKIN DOPE I SMELL ON YOU BOY?!” He belted out, and smacked Miner in the face with the butt of his gun. Miner fell from the log, and braced himself for another blow.

“Matt here hit his head boss. I just got him back here to rest up!”

“ANSWER MY QUESTION CONVICT.” Said Gordon.

“Yes sir.” said Miner.

“I don’t tolerate that shit during work hours!” Gordon spit. “WHO’S IS IT?!”

“Mine boss.” I said. “I just had a little roach from last night. I’m sorry boss; don’t take it out on Miner.”

“THAT’S ONE MAJOR STRIKE. WE DON’T FUCK AROUND WITH DAILIES OUT HERE.” Gordon shouted, and he kicked me off the log, and then square in the chest. He then started to whack me with his baton, but he didn’t shock me. Another boss soon walked up with a set of chains. I had accumulated one other major strike since I was let off the chain gang. One daily strike for running from the road crew, and two which accompanied my beatings on the cane field to make one major strike, and now today it was two.

“BOSS! GOD DAMN HE HIT HIS HEAD! PLEASE!” Shouted Miner.

“YOU DIDN’T HERE ME YOU FUCKING SHITSTAIN? THAT’S TWO FOR YOU. ONE FOR THE DOPE, ONE FOR MOUTHIN OFF.” Screamed Gordon. Now we both had two, in one day.

We were both silent, as we thought of the prospect of another term on the chain gang, and the more immediate hell of getting chained to one of these trees.

“Hitch em up. Far out. In the fucking mud. Same tree, side by side, n’ gag em both.” Said Gordon.

“But god damn Gordon, I got poker tonight!” said the other boss. “Just get movin.” He belted back. “You wanna write up? I’ll have you out there in the fucking field faster than you can say fucked! God damn!” It had been a bad day hunting, and that was responsible for about half of his rage. If he had been more successful, he probably would have sat down with us and had a cigarette.

“Alright you faggots” the other boss handcuffed us behind our back “Get movin.” We walked for several minutes out in the mud, the guard no happier than we were to be out in the muddy woods in the cold night.

The guard was disinterested enough to not beat the crap out of us, but he found a big pine. He un cuffed us, and told us to strip our shirts, but then tied our arms tight to our sides with tough rope, and then directed us to sit down in the mud in front of the tree. We flopped down, and sunk a few inches in, but it luckily wasn’t that deep. He wrapped a heavy chain tight three times around both of our chests, and locked it on the other side of the tree. He then tied cloth gags tight in our mouths.

“God damn convict shitstains…” he kicked us each in the chest, and the chains dug in. I coughed in the gag, and groaned. The guard unzipped his pants, and pissed on each of us. When he had finished, and zipped up his pants, he gave us a final hard smack in the face, and then walked off cursing and sputtering.

The first thing I noticed was Miner’s arm moving up and down, rubbing against mine as he breathed heavily. I glanced over, and saw that though his eyes were shut, he was sobbing. He opened his eyes, and they met mine, and I felt my own tears well up. My head started to hurt again from hitting the log earlier, but I could not grab it to nurse the pain.

I then noticed the mud seeping into my pants, and through my long underwear. I was thankful I had pissed before Gordon found us, but I was also thirsty, and the gag aggravated that feeling. I struggled against the ropes and chains with every ounce of strength my hardened convict body could produce, but it was no use. I wouldn’t budge, and neither would Miner.

We both watched as the last scraps of twilight dissipated through the thick canopy of pine, and then it was pitch black. I could hear Miner breathing, and feel him moving. I was beyond happy they had put us right next to each other, because we could use our body heat to keep us warm for a while. This was a small comfort however, as our jeans were soaked with cold mud, and our chests were bare and covered in piss and sweat which had cooled in the night air.

It was above freezing temperature, but that didn’t matter to us. My head was beginning to pound again. Miner had not taken his mind off of me, and was constantly checking to see if I was still moving. Finally, I started to pass out. Whether it was sleep or fainting, I didn’t know, but the last thing I heard was Miner screaming through his gag. “MMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!” Followed by loud but muffled sobs. He couldn’t feel me moving anymore, aside from a slight breathing motion.

Chapter 39-

I heard and felt a loud, metallic whine, and I saw a swirling flash of light; morning blue and black. I then felt a booted foot kicking mine from the side. Miner was kicking my foot. My eyes came into focus and I tried to get up. Nothing. I was tied tight to the tree, and I could only move my fingers, legs, and head.

Miner was trying to make sure I was ok, and when I had groaned a few moments, I looked over at him, and gave him a knowing look and nod. He hung his head down, and gave muffles of relief, and then he leaned his head towards me. I did the same and we gently rubbed our short haired heads. It wasn’t the most masculine scene, but it was the only sign of affection and solidarity we could show each other and we need it. Had our arms been free, it would have been a pat on the back, a rub on the head, or a punch in the arm.

We sat shivering and watching the light grow. A squirrel bounded down and sat on my lap; fed up with hibernation, and curious about this new, blue, dirty and motionless addition to his home. I laughed hard through the gag, and was joined by Miner. The squirrel took off back up the tree, and chirped at us for a good 5 minutes.

Our laughter died down, and the sadness sunk back in. My head hurt a lot less, and though I was horribly cold and shivering, I was relaxed. I counted the trees in my field of vision. I looked at Miner’s one bare foot, and one booted foot and got a bit of a hard on, but this soon died down, unable to be nurtured by my hand. I lifted my legs to keep blood going through them. The mud had largely dried, but I could still feel the cold moisture.

We sat for hours; cold and miserable, but together. After a while, I had to piss. I held and held and held, but I couldn’t take it. I grunter to Miner, and looked down at my crotch seeking an apology. He shut his eyes, and nodded yes. I let loose, and there was a warm sensation in my legs as I finally released. It was contained within my legs, but soon Miner let loose as well. Our noses were both runny, so we couldn’t smell it. I was relieved, but I felt the piss on my leg, and felt miserable. They had left our pants on for just this reason.

An hour or so more, and the day was full on. The rest of the convicts had probably already felled a tree or two, but we heard no voices, only a few loud thuds. I shut my eyes, and dozed. The sun was getting warmer, and the first meager airs of spring were beginning to make themselves known.

“HEY BOSS! GOT A COUPLE OF NATURE BOYS HERE!” Shouted a laid back but burly southern accent. I opened my eyes, and was greeted by the comforting sight of a pair of dirty carpenter jeans and the convict number A-021-D. A fellow convict, with the same eternal sentence had found me and Miner. It was Adam, the man who had given me a full meal when I was cheated out of my credits. “God damn boys, we gotta get you lose. Gimmie a minute. HEY BOSS!!!” He shouted again.

A few minutes later I heard another convict. “God damn it. Another fucking hold up. God damn, can’t leave em like this though.” He produced a key, and unlocked the chain. Adam gingerly cut our ropes with his axe, and we threw our arms out and swung them loose as the ropes fell. We quickly took out the gags.

“God damn. Thanks again.” I said to Adam who gave me a hand and helped me get up.

“Aint nothin dude.” he said through his smiling black beard. He had recently trimmed it, and I saw a bit more of his hard but good natured jaw line. “Just lookin out. I know you would too. Now…Wait a damn minute. I knew you looked familiar. You were on the chain with me!”

On the chain gang, I had only seen the same pained faces in the same blue coveralls. How he was able to remember my face while going through that hell was completely beyond me. I felt the piss on my leg, and looked down, my face turning red.

“Hey man. We’ve all been through shit like that. It aint nothin.” He said referencing my piss. “What the hell were you gonna do, hold it all day?”

“Thanks man.” I said. That was true enough. I’d pissed my pants, but he had put my embarrassment to rest. These people were better than anyone in my old world, friend or foe.

“You do a lot of thankin. I keep tellin you, it’s nothin.” he said, and then helped Miner up. “And hell if you weren’t the lead boy out there.” Adam had stayed on the chain gang when we were set free, and he was released sometime while we were working the cane field. It had been his second time on the chain gang, and if he kept his nose clean, it would be his last.

“Alright. Adam, you walk em back to camp and get your ass back here on the double.” Said the lead convict.

“Right boss.” Adam said. His lead con was a real ball buster, but his crew always exceeded quota, and always got extra credits. “You boys feel alright to walk?”

“Yeah.” We said.

“Alright, let’s go.”

We followed him through the woods, and he struck up a conversation. “What the hell’d you boys do go get hitched out here?”

“I hit my head yesterday sloggin the last log, and we were sitting down and smoking the last bit of a joint.” I said.

“Whoooo.” He whistled. “Must have been a bad day huntin. Gordon wouldn’t normally give a shit.”

“Yeah. He came down hard.” said Miner. “We both got two major strikes now.”

“No shit? Damn, that’s rough. Glad I’m done with that shit.” He said. “You boys better keep your ass in line. Of course out here that aint a big deal.”

We walked out of the woods, and two doctors stood by. “Come with us.” They said.

“Take care boys.” Said Adam, who ran back into the woods.

We followed the doctors into the bunkhouse, and sat on a bench.

“Hmm.” the doctor said as he looked in my eyes. “Damn you’re in rough shape son. They beat you that bad?”

“Well I hit my head earlier, but yeah. They beat us fierce sir.” I said.

“Serves you shitheads right.” He said “You better keep your ass in line from now on. Come summer, we’re getting new bosses out here, and they don’t put up with no slackin. You boys better rest up today. You can go back to work tomorrow.” he said, and turned to stamp some files.

We got clean clothes and a new pair of boots for Miner from Zach the trustee, and we showered. We then slumped to our bunks, and flopped down. Rather than getting in his own top bunk, Miner laid down in Buck’s next to me. I felt sick, but was glad of the chance to get a real sleep.

“Don’t worry man.” I said “If we get thrown on the chain, at least we won’t have the boilers.”

“That’s how I started out.” He said. “They just ripped off my numbers, and gave me a shirt with ‘chain gang’ written in red letters. A week or two before you boys showed up, they unshackeld us, made us put on the boilers and locked us back up.”

“Damn.” I said. “Yeah, I guess it’s a possibility, but still man don’t worry.”

“If we go, let’s go together.” He said. “One gets put on, the other tries to the same day.”

“Alright.” I said. I didn’t want to leave Craig, but there was nothing I could do. One more strike, and I’d be on the chain gang, and I might as well go through with someone I knew again. I lay down and went to sleep.

I woke up to the sound of boots stomping on the bunkhouse floor. I threw my blanket down and sat up, and then stood up. Craig ran to me, and gave me a hard, masculine hug for two seconds.

“God.” he said. “I thought you were still out there. I was god damn near gonna cry if I didn‘t see you here.” He said, but I saw small tears in his eyes. “Glad you’re alright bro.” he said.

Buck had just greeted Miner with a hearty pat on the shoulder, and a hard passionate hug. He walked over to me, and patting me on the shoulder said “Damn it all Matt, you’re supposed to go through the hard shit with me.”

“I’d be happy to tie you up out there if you want” I said joking. “I won’t piss on you or beat you unless you ask though.”

“God damn Matt, they didn’t need to go and do that shit to you, and I mean both of you.” He said referring to me and Miner.

“I really thought you were gonna fade out, and they’d have to stick you in the infirmary.” Said Craig. “Sure it’s a week off, but it’s also a week in grinding pain while they fix you up.”

We talked about the day we had missed. Lee and Jake were out there with them, and although they were giving their best effort, it didn’t help much as Jake was still fairly weak.

Jake walked up to me, and said “Here dude.” He handed me a full credit. “Sorry I’ve been such a dick. First thing I wanted when I came to was a bowl of warm chow, but I didn’t get it till Craig gave me one.” Just like he had my first day. “Then Mark gave me a good talk. I can’t believe I was tryin to go through this shit alone. I would have lost it.” Rather than putting the fear of god in Jake as I suggested, Mark had given him a cigarette, and a stern speech about being there for your fellow man.

“Thanks Jake.” I said. Jake knew what I was going through, and his selfishness was wiped away by sympathy. That was all it took for him to straighten up. He sat with Lee, Chuck, and Hollis in the mess hall and looked both defeated and satisfied. Chuck, Mark, and Nate all gave him a pat on the shoulder.

I sat with Miner, Craig, and Buck, and ate silently while they talked.

“Yeah, the doctor was tellin us we’re getting new bosses come summertime.” Miner Said.

“That’s about what I’d expect.” Said Buck. “Well, it was fun bossing ourselves while it lasted. Better get ready for the strap again.”

I remembered my brutal beatings on the cane field. I swallowed a chunk of meat, and set my spoon down. I grabbed my eyes and sobbed silently.

“You alright man?” Craig asked.

“I’m fuckin tired of it.” I finally said. “Why the fuck do they gotta do this shit to us? What the fuck did we do?” Not one of the four of us had actually committed any great crime.

“Man, there’s nothing we can do.” Miner said. “You know that Matt. They can kick our ass in a second, and even if we team up they got them shockers. Plus there’s the military if we really get out of hand. They fucking got us dude.”

“DAMN IT! YOU DON’T FUCKING THINK I KNOW THAT BY NOW?!” I screamed and pounded the table. The whole mess hall was looking at me. I held my head and calmed down. “God damn…I’m sorry Miner. It’s just getting to me. I’m sore, I’m sick, and I’m lookin at another god damn 20 hours tomorrow, and another hundred or more fucking years on that damn chain gang.”

Now I was the one who needed consoling. Rather than giving me a speech about how we had each other, Buck lit his joint and held it out to me with a stern but friendly stare. I gave a chuckle through my sobs, grabbed it, and took a hit. Yesterday, this smell got me hitched to a tree in a muddy swamp, today it was sweetly perfuming a warm bunkhouse lit by friendly orange wood stoves and oil lamps.

We talked and laughed like we had a few nights before, but at first we were nowhere near as rowdy. I told buck about the squirrel that had sat on my lap while I was tied up, and he snickered a long time.

“He was just lookin for some nuts.” He said to me, and then grabbed and shook my crotch with his heavy, rough hands. I grabbed him around the chest, and we fell off the bench laughing and wrestling. I found it difficult to match his strength, but I was holding my own. He finally lifted me, holding me by the arms, and Craig pulled down my pants.

“GET HIS NUTS!” Shouted Buck, and Craig began to stroke my dick and cup my balls right in the mess hall. The whole group of convicts was cheering, and stomping their boots. I was laughing my ass off, and so was Miner who sat, and leaned back clapping his hands loudly. Jake smiled and shook his head as he watched this. “This is what I’ve been missing trying to be a loaner.” He thought to himself “Real fucking friends.”

“ALRIGHT BREAK THAT SHIT UP!!” Shouted a bunkhouse guard who didn‘t even bother to get up from his game of solitaire.

“Yeah boss.” Buck and Craig said in a lowly tone, but still brandishing smiles as they let me go. The guard couldn’t kill our good mood that evening. I pulled my pants back up, and sat back down still laughing a bit. Not a half an hour before I had felt sick, dejected, and tired. Now I felt happy, comfortable, and healthy. At times like that, I knew I wasn’t in hell. Such times were few and fleeting, but also so comforting and so happy that they kept me going through the worst times and punishments I would receive.

Chapter 40-

We continued to govern our own work for a few more months. We went from pulling the logs through the mud, to chopping those logs down for others to pull, and back to firewood a few times.

As spring set in, I was greeted with the scents and smells of small white flowers among the trees. While working, I had no time to savor them, and flattened a few with falling trees, but during midday meals, I would sit down next to them and admire them. I could have had a camera in my hand, and I wouldn’t have felt any happier. They were utterly beautiful. Though I was destined to work my ass off for the rest of eternity, sweating, and getting whipped, dirty, and smelly, there was still profound beauty in that world that one could see if they had a rare chance to rest.

Nature lover that I was, I knew all too well that flowers usually meant bugs to pollinate them. These were not pollinated by bees, but by the male mosquitoes which gracefully left us alone and flew about like sylphs in the sunlight. Male mosquitoes meant that there would be females however, and these were relentless. I swatted myself so many times I began to look like I had been whipped.

As the summer came, our crew was about to begin its first day of stumping, which was the hardest and most miserable work the timber camp could produce. That morning after the meal, we were held up by a fully uniformed and unfamiliar guard.

“Alright convicts.” He said to the group of convicts, trustees, and ox boys. “Up to now, you’ve been given insufficient direction in your hard labor, and that isn’t your fault. Your old bosses are getting reassigned, and retrained today. They’re supposed to make sure you boys work, not hunt pheasant. Your new bosses are much better versed in both timber production, and in running a prison. This camp has been under-producing for years now and it ends today.” He stared us down, and walked back and forth, looking at us.

“Item one. I run a clean camp.” he said. “There ain’t gonna be no fucking dope, no fucking hooch, and no fucking cigarettes. You want tobacco, you’re gonna be dippin, and you’re gonna work while you’re doin it. Item two. You’ll still get your full credits if you meet or exceed quota, but you‘re gonna be buying your own underwear. Save your creds up in the summer so you can use em in the winter.”

Chuck held his head low, and stared at the ground. He knew what item three was. His days of leading us were over, and so was the relatively easy life we had out here.

“Item three.” He continued “You will no longer be directing your own work. You’re convicts. You don’t get a say in what you do during work hours. Each crew will be assigned a boss, and he will carry a strap to make sure you boys ain’t slackin. We‘re gonna let the bosses here wear plainclothes, but you better believe they‘re gonna work you hard anyway.”

“Item four” He was about to finish. “We do not deal with daily strikes out here at the timber camp. You fuck up, it’s a major. We won’t give you one for free wiping, but if you get outta line or slack off, we’ll come down hard. We’re trying to thin the herd a bit. Once we get rid of the troublemakers, we’ll bring in some real men. Keep your ass in line, or it’s gonna be the chain for ya.”

It was pretty clear that me and Miner would not finish the detail. One false step, and we would be on the chain gang again. As I heard the boss speaking, my gut sank, and my cock got stiff with anticipation. It hadn’t even been a year since I was free of the ball and chain, and I was just one fuckup away from a set of heavy leg irons, a heavy sledgehammer, and 100 or more years of both.

“Alright convicts, GET TO WORK!” He shouted, and we were picked out by our bosses.

“You boys, you’re with me. Lets get at it MOVE!” He cracked his strap in the air, and we hustled to the desolate patch of short stumps sticking up from the hard ground. It was morning, but it was muggy, hot and miserable. The sun had not yet mounted, but we could feel its heat.

The work didn’t take much explanation. It was digging, and digging hard. Two men to each stump. Me and Craig had a fairly large, knotty stump to work around.

First, we dug as much of the soil as we could from around the stump. This was backbreaking, and we were not permitted to stop. I swung a mattock, while Craig scooped out the loosened dirt with a short handled shovel. It was tough for him because he kept running into roots, and couldn’t get a proper shovelful of dirt. I would walk over, and strike the roots with the cutting end of my mattock, and once the roots were loose, he could continue to dig.

After several, arm splitting chops with the mattock, the stump was loose from most of the roots. The sun was beating down in full force by then, and my tanned back sizzled in the heat. “Alright Craig. Let’s get this bitch out.” I said. “You grab that end. Got it?”

“Yeah bro.” He said.

“Alright, one, two, three.” We strained and struggled, but we couldn’t lift the stump out of the dirt. We fell back panting, and I was met with a whip, but no words. I got back up, and said to the boss “I need a spud bar here boss.”

“Alright. CONNER! SPUD BAR! GET MOVIN!” The boss shouted to a trustee, who ran over to a rack of tools, and grabbed a long heavy metal bar, with one end tapered and chiseled to dig down into tight spaces, and pry things loose.

He handed me the bar, and I struck the ground hard few times; wedging the bar deep under the log. I leveraged it on a rock we had dug up, and pushed down hard, straining with my eyes shut, and my teeth clenched. The stump still clung hard to a thick but short root which was inaccessible to the mattock, but after a few more pushes, it actually uprooted, and came loose.

“Alright, let’s try this shit again.” I said to Craig. This was work I had done in the old world too, though in all my 29 years there, I had only dug up one stump, and that was with 5 other men. “Ready, one, two, three.” I said, as we lifted the stump right out of our pit, and carried it over to a pile which only bore three or four other stumps. This was hard, slow work, but it was worth it for the extra firewood, and the clear land which could be tilled, and either replanted with trees, or some type of crop.

After getting the log out, I was sweating bullets, and all I wanted to do was grab the shirt that hung in my pocket and get rid of the sweat that pooled on my face. I knew better than that though.

“You’ll wipe it off when I say you wipe it off.” the boss had said earlier when I had asked permission. “You’ll get water when I say you get water; you’ll piss when I say you piss. I don’t wanna hear no talkin, unless it’s about them stumps!”

Just like that, our little vacation in the woods was over. That feeling of half freedom we felt was squashed down under the hard boot of the boss man, who while wearing brown work pants was also shirtless in the heat. He held his strap behind his neck, ready to swing it at the first sign of slacking.

The ten of us were shining with sweat. I imagined that if the sun caught us just right, it would reflect purely, and you couldn’t look at us for long without getting your eyes burned. This was the meaning of toil. We walked up to another, stump which stuck up firmly in the hard earth, and began to work again. It was one of hundreds which waited impatiently for us. There was no shielding from the sun, as the still standing trees were some distance off. After several more minutes of work, the boss finally belted out “FIVE MINUTES, GET SOME WATER.”

Gone were the days of carrying water with us in canteens, but gone also was the fact that the water got warm in them. A trustee walked up with a bucket that had been resting in the shade, and the water was cool, and quenching. I was finally allowed to slick the sweat off my shining face, and I relished the feeling of the dry shirt on my moist, hot forehead. I sat on my haunches, with a spud bar between my legs. There was no emotion in me, only fatigue and exhaustion. No memories of the merciful, snow-less winter, or of Chuck kindly instructing us. I might as well have been roasting in the quarry. I did manage to shoot a glance in the direction of Chuck and Hollis. Hollis was as emotionless as I was, but Chuck looked about 4 inches tall. His head was low, and his eyes were clenched shut in those brief minutes of rest.

“ALRIGHT! BACK TO WORKIN.” That same demand. That same order. Day after day, year after year that same harsh order. I knew it all too well, and the authority with which it was spoken gave me little choice. I sprung off the bar, and grabbed my mattock, ready to set back into the stump. I swung at the roots once again without thought, and without complaint. Hard labor was the sentence, and that was what I would be doing. Period.

In those longs months of summer, our crew was usually assigned to either stumping or slogging. My hands rarely touched an axe. More often, it was on the handle of a heavy cutter mattock, or the rough hemp rope tied around trees. Slopping through the swamp with the logs was absolute hell in the summer heat. Not only was it hot, the trees provided a sufficient canopy to shield mosquitoes from the sun, and they made a great feast of our sweaty backs. A few drowned in my sweat in my hair, and I had to wipe them out. Worse than the mosquito’s bites, were the straps from the boss. He stood by, high and dry in a set of rubber chest waders while we slopped through in out wet muddy denim. When we were finished, we trudged back to the bunkhouse, muddy, hot, and miserable. All that awaited us was thin broth, and a bit of meat with a slice of bread. A brief sleep among snoring men, and then back to work before dawn. Throughout most of our work hours, our boss largely saved his whip for me. The others he would bitch at, but their backs remained clear of welts. Craig was getting pissed due to my treatment.

After several hard days, and several hard chops to a stubborn stump, it finally came loose from its roots. A few of the roots were bigger, and I thought were well worth the effort to pry out. I grabbed the spud bar, and tried to pry them out, but my efforts were fruitless.

WHACK. WHACK. WHACK.

I got the strap hard on the back three times.

“Boy what the hell are you doin?!” Shouted the boss.

“Just tryin to get that root out boss.” I said, still reeling with pain.

“You leave them for the planting. GET ON THAT NEXT STUMP.”

God damn, these bosses were harsh. They left no room for error. I didn’t doubt I’d be on the chain gang within the week, and I hardened my heart as Craig and I walked over to the next stump. It was smaller, but still right there in the middle of the land.

WHACK.

The boss whipped me again, this time 10 straps, right where I stood. The boss drew blood with the last strap, but it was not much.

:”I said that stump.” he said pointing at a larger stump.

I didn’t know it at the time, but Craig was getting damn tired of seeing me get whipped. I was the only one whipped that day on our crew.

“God damn it boss, lay the hell off him! Alright?” Craig finally belted out at the boss. God damn, I didn’t know what kind of punishment these new bosses had in store for back talking. At the time, I didn’t want to know, but knowing the final outcome of Craig’s outburst, I wish to hell I had learned.

“WHAT WAS THAT BOY?!” Said the boss.

“LAY THE HELL OFF HIM! HE DIDN’T DO NOTHIN!” He screamed.

“CRAIG!” I said “STOP. CALM THE FUCK DOWN.”

“I think you better listen to your buddy there convict. Pipe down.” Said the boss walking up to Craig. “If you feel like doing me a little favor, I might forget you back talked. On your knees convict.”

Craig complied at first. I was thankful for that, and though I had no great desire to see Craig degraded like this, I knew the alternative would be worse.

The boss unzipped his pants, but rather than accept it in his mouth, Craig’s mind snapped, and he grabbed the boss by the legs; springing up, and knocking him down. The boss’s flaccid cock jiggled as he hit the hard ground.

Craig started to take swings at the boss. I knew from his actions that he was not aiming to kill, but he did manage to give the boss a good shiner. Craig had almost fallen short of his goal of clawing the eye out and removing the boss from our lives forever. In the last second of the struggle, he managed to injure the boss permanently. Despite all their medical advances, they could not completely repair someone who hadn’t taken the blue serum. The boss would never work in a prison again.

The boss produced his baton, and shocked Craig violently in the arm. He fell to the ground, and shook, unable to control his motions. The boss, bloody eyed, hog tied Craig, and called out to the trustee.

“CONNER! GET BACK TO CAMP. I NEED A MEDIC, AND A RIDE TO THE CHAIN FOR THIS SACK OF SHIT. ANY OF YOU TRY ANYTHING, I’LL SET THIS THING TO WIDE FIELD, AND YOU’LL ALL TASTE THIS SHIT. BACK TO WORK.”

For the time, we couldn’t argue with that. He could still see well enough to aim at us, though I doubt he would have been able to whip us. We pretended to swing our mattocks and dig while the boss sat on the ground reeling in pain.

When Craig regained his composure, and realized what he had done, he knew that a long, hard stay on the temporary chain gang awaited him, but he didn’t know what kind of hell awaited him there. He didn’t sob, but did moan and thrash and try to kick. It was no use.

“MATT” He cried. “MATT!!” My heart sank down to my crotch. “GOD I’M SORRY MATT!”

A single, salty tear in my eye, I looked hard at Miner. I didn’t say it, but my glance did. “I’m going. You don’t have to follow if you don’t want to.”

He looked at me, and I could understand him as well. “All three of us. Don’t let Buck go again. They’ll come down on him too hard.”

A medic arrived, as well as a new boss to command us the rest of the day, and another two bosses to haul Craig back to camp to wait for a truck. I had to talk to Miner, Buck, Mark, and the rest. Luckily, the boss man seemed none to eager to be there.

“You boys work your wills for a few hours. Till the heat dies down anyway.” he said. He sat down and opened an umbrella, fanning himself with some papers.

Miner left Buck to finish their stump, and joined me with mine. In a hushed voice he said “I guess we’re goin then.” He said to confirm.

“I am. You don’t need to.” I said.

“Might as well get it out of the way.” He said. “We goin for the long haul?” He wanted to know if we would assault the guard to match Craig’s undoubtedly long sentence.

I thought long and hard, wondering what Craig would want. “No. I don’t think so.” I said. “Craig couldn’t live with himself if we did that.”

Nearby, Buck guessed our conversation. “Matt, and I mean both of you Matts, I can’t follow you again. They’d have me there 5000 damn years, and then probably another. I don’t know if they’d even let me off. I’ll look our for Mark, Nate, and the rest of them.”

“I’m gonna miss you man.” said Miner to Buck. “I’ll be alright.”

“Stay tough.” Buck said, “I’ll damn sure be here when you’re done.“ and he swung his mattock at the stump again. He shut his eyes, knowing what awaited us.

I gave a nod to Buck, Mark, Nate, and the rest. Not caring any more, I sunk my mattock in the dirt, and sat down. I took a plug of dip, and offered one to Miner. He took it, and placed it in his lips. We leaned back, and let the sun soak into our chests.

“What the hell is that shit?!” Shouted the boss.

“I’m just so distraught at the loss of our kindly old boss sir.” I said with the cockiest smirk I could muster.

“I just don’t know how we can go on without him.” Said Miner, fake sobbing.

“I know what the hell this is. Stickin together right? Lookin out for each other? Well god damn boys, you’re gonna really be lookin out. That’s strike three for you both, and I’m marking you down as belligerents. You’ll do at least 500 years, and if they want to keep you longer, they have every ability and right to do so.”

My cock hardened, and my gut sank at hearing this. I thought it would just be 100 again, maybe 200, but 500, and probably more? I didn’t care. Craig would be on much longer. Miner’s eyes clenched too, but he then exhaled and breathed calmly.

“Conner, Take em back to camp. If they struggle, it’s triple time for em.” Said the boss. He had cuffed our hands behind our back, but our legs were free. We offered no resistance, and we walked back to camp.

I saw Craig lying on his side in front of the bunkhouse, still tied, and baking in the hot sun. We were directed to sit near him. They had shocked him again just for laughs, and though I nudged him with my foot, he did not stir.

A lonely flatbed truck rolled up, and a boss got out. He herded me and Miner into the flatbed, and lifted Craig, setting him across from us. The truck started, and drove away from the tall pines towards the bare mountains.

I tugged at the handcuffs, and my cock grew hard again. I finally remembered myself how much hell I was in for. Time didn’t matter there. Every day there felt endless, even though it did end. 500 years would give us plenty of time to sample the full range of tortures they devised for us.

Miner was also coming slowly to realize what awaited us. Trying to lighten the mood, he said “Hey you got a joint man?”

“Should have asked me yesterday.” I said. There was no laughter.