So, finally the day comes when they tell me to pack it up. “25 out” the CO calls. When I report up to the bubble – the thick walled room that houses the CO on duty behind bullet proof glass – I am told I am on the draft. That’s prison lingo for ‘you’re moving’. She tells me to pack it up and be ready.
I am excited. I am not sure why because it is not like I am going home or anything, not even a visit, just moving. While the move here from county seems so long ago and fuzzy, I am quite excited to get out of this single room. I am not sure what to expect or where I am going, but I can easily pack my belongings in the one white mesh sack they provide as I do not have very much stuff. The little commissary I could afford easily fits on top of my state issue clothes and my Bible, the only thing they let you carry with you that you came in with and which they will not take away. I was counseled early on to write my addresses in the back so I would always have them with me.
So I am ready, let’s go. But in here, it is the old hurry up and wait. I still do not have that down, the waiting thing. Nothing is fast and everything involves waiting.
So I wait. It is lunch time and I go but I still wait. Evening comes with dinner and I still wait. Then I am called out and am led through a different maze to a room that looks familiar as it is the room we came into when arriving. I shivered at the sergeants door but fortunately was not called in though he was there glaring at anyone who passed. There were two other guys with their sacks also going somewhere. After the obligatory search of our property – what, I am sneaking something out that wasn’t mine? – and the shackling, not to anyone else this time, we are led to a van for transport to our new home.
The reason it is so late when we go and it’s a small van told the more experienced guys with me we were not going far. Turns out it was almost across the street to a medium B facility next to a female medium facility. Now there would be 15’ high fence with barbed wire on top with another similar but a tad lower fence 15 or 20 feet inside it as opposed to the 20 foot barb wired topped concrete walls of reception. There were cameras all around on the poles in between and sensors on the ground. Not likely anyone would make it through or around all that and get away.
Reception was one at a time and we waited in a large room once again joined by a couple of guys from another facility. Other inmates helped take our stuff to the inspection area where a CO roughly went through it before telling me to follow him upstairs to the reception dorm.
I was assigned a room with another guy, fortunately a single bed. There was a small locker for my stuff and I was in my new temporary home. Soon there was count, then rec time in an open area where most guys just milled around. There is an old television with a very bad quality picture showing Wheel of Fortune. Even the episode looks like a rerun and probably is because everything else in here is old.
I was told some of the things I could look forward to in the coming days most of which had to do with getting familiar with the facility. I was told I would get five free letters per week with the state providing the paper, envelopes and stamps. Hallelujah!! The excitement of this news refuels me and I start my writing. I have to be careful to put on a happy face in my letters as counselors and others have told me I have caused enough heartache and pain so not to burden family with more in my epistles. Makes sense I guess, so the game begins anew.
I will go though orientation prior to finding out my new work and schedules but know that for the first week I will be attending meetings most of every day. Beats sitting in a solitary cell. At least I am with other guys though none seem too friendly at this juncture. I hope I will sleep tonight as my head is still swirling with all the new around me. Much to look forward to and as well as much to fear.

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