Folsom Prison Blues
"I wish I had a baseball." I heard Dean call out from his cell.
"What?" Another voice echoed. Lucas. "What'd you say?"
"I said I wish I had a baseball." Dean repeated. "You know, like Steve McQueen."
"Yeah, well, I wish I had a bat so I could bash your freaking head in."
"Okay, boys, calm down." I said as I lay on the small cot, arms wrapped around myself as a chill set in.
"Well, so much for the bonding in solitary moment." Dean muttered.
The lights flickered.
I stood, moving to peek out of the mall slot in the door.
"Lucas, listen to me. Stay very still." Dean called out.
A few moments passed, then Lucas screamed.
___
I sat next to Dean at a picnic table as he played cards with another prisoner. He laid down another. "Call."
"Three aces." The other said, holding up his cards.
"That's a bad beat." Dean admitted. "That's a bad beat, but see, I'm full. Threes over aces."
The man stood, slamming his fist down on the table.
Dean laughed. "I'm sorry. Hey, it's a cruel game, my friend."
He turned and walked away.
I wrapped the blue jacket I'd been given tighter around me as Dean slid all the cigarettes he won into a large pile. "What are you going to do with all of this?" I asked, picking one up.
Dean took it from me. "Hey, hands off. You want one, play me for it."
Sam sat down across from us.
"It's like picking low hanging fruit." Dean stated.
"You don't even smoke." Sam stated.
"You kidding me? This is the currency of the realm."
"Look, I got a good lead on Moody." Sam began.
"Yeah, us too." I said.
"His spirit paid a little visit last night." Dean added.
"What?" Sam asked.
"Clock stopped, flickering lights, cold spot. I mean, he did everything but yell boo."
"What happened?"
"He walked right by me. Lucas wasn't so lucky. I mean, the way he was screaming...The guy was a jerk but he didn't deserve to go like that. What'd you find out?"
"Yeah, so I think I know where his remains might be." Sam stated. "Blood in his old cell."
"I thought it was a heart attack." Dean said.
"Yeah, a heart attack won't leave enough blood for it to keep a spirit around." I added.
"It was. After the guards worked him over. Apparently there was so much blood, they had trouble mopping it out." Sam explained.
"How are we gonna get it?" Dean asked.
"I got a plan." Sam nodded his head.
Dean smiled. "That's the Sammy I know. You're like Clint Eastwood from Escape From Alcatraz."
"Problem is, if we find something, how are we gonna burn it?" Sam asked. "We don't have any accelerant."
"Good thing I'm like James Garner from The Great Escape." Dean said.
"Great, and I'm not even helpful." I muttered.
Dean stood, holding handfuls of cigarettes up. "Hey, fellas, who's ready to deal?"
___
"You sure about this?" Dean asked Sam as we stood in line at the cafeteria.
"Pretty sure."
"Yeah, well, considering our circumstances, I'd like better than pretty sure."
"Okay, really pretty sure." Sam walked off.
"I like mine al dente." Dean said as the man dropped a spoonful of pasta onto the tray.
"I think it's more of a take it or leave it type of situation." I said.
Dean and I parted ways after that. He went over to go talk to Tiny, the guy who Lucas was going to get to help beat Dean up yesterday.
I set the tray down on a table, moving over to where Sam stood.
Tiny punched Dean, sending him to the floor.
Dean stumbled to his feet, throwing punches, but nothing seemed to faze the larger man. An guard tried to ahold of Tiny, but he was simply thrown into a table.
The rest of the guards ran off to help.
As Sam and I pushed through the kitchen doors, I said, "If this was our plan, I could've gotten us in here much easier."
"What?" Sam asked.
"Yeah, there's this guy, Blade, he works in here. We're cool. He would've snuck us in."
"You're friends with a prisoner named Blade?" Sam asked as he grabbed a salt shaker.
"His real name is Terry."
"Oh." Sam pulled the vent cover off, handing me the salt and matches. "I'm scared to ask why he's in here."
"He murdered his wife because she cheated on him with his brother. Very messy situation." I took them. "Yay, small, dark spaces."
"I can go if you want." Sam offered.
"No, no. I'll be fine. You came up with the plan, Dean got us what we needed, I can at least execute it." I turned to the vent. "You should go."
___
I shimmy down the elevator shaft, holding my breath as if that will help any. Eventually, I'm able to drop down onto a floor. I brush my hands on my pants. I walked down the dark, dirty hall until finding the room I'm supposed to be lighting on fire.
Yay.
Let's add arson to the criminal record today.
I walked inside. The room was covered in dust and grime. I grabbed the edge of the mattress between two of my fingers and flipped it over.
"Oh, if I get some kind of disease from this, I am going to murder those two." I muttered.
There was a large blood splotch on the middle of the bed. I pulled the salt and small vile of lighter fluid from my pocket, pouring it over the bed.
I struck a match, dropping it down.
___
"Wait, so you're telling me it wasn't Moody?" Sam asked as we walked through the yard.
"So I crawled through the vents for nothing?" I asked.
"Unless he liked going around dressed like a nurse." Dean shrugged. "Poor Tiny, man. Poor, giant Tiny."
"Wait, so this is the ghost of some nurse who worked here or something?" Sam asked.
"I don't know, man. I guess."
"'I don't know, I guess' isn't really working for me. See, I thought we were done." Sam said.
"In other words, he's scared of prison. I am too. I won't last a day." I stated.
"I called Deacon. It's happening. We're getting out tonight." Sam continued.
"I guess we gotta do some quick research then." Dean shrugged his shoulders.
"How? I mean, maybe you haven't noticed, but we're in jail." Sam said.