I’LL BE YOUR FIRST MATE

To tell ‘the story’… I must tell the back story… so this is that…

I can feel them shaking. I look down at my hands thinking maybe if I look at them they will stop. My wrists are tightly secured by the steel handcuffs that are chained to my waist which are chained to the steel ankle cuffs just above my ankles. I was arrested somewhere between 36 and 48 hours ago… I can’t be certain because I haven’t seen a clock since I was at the place that used to be our home. I just stepped off the bus at “CDC” which is the main jail in San Bernardino. This is not a place that I (or anyone) wants to be… which I was told many times as I was leaving “West Valley” which is where I have been housed for the past day or so. West Valley was as close as I have ever seen to a horrific nightmare becoming reality so if people there are telling me that CDC is much worse… I am in trouble. I have to get my hands to stop shaking because you cannot show weakness in a place like this. As I take each step… I tell myself to breathe… to remain calm and no matter what… no emotion… no weakness. I look down… they won’t stop shaking.

An officer separates us into groups and makes us stand on painted colors in front of steel barred cages. I am standing on a blue square. “Blue inmates. Stand against the wall” he yells. I then hear him tell another officer to take the “Blue Inmates to K Tier on the 4th floor”. 4 officers begin to escort myself and 3 other guys through a maze of locked doors and escalators until we reach a massive barred multi level cage that has a painted ‘K’ on it. “Pop Tier 1″… one of the officers screams and the steel door slams open. He proceeds to push two of the guys that I am with into “Tier 1” and the cell door slams shut behind them. “Pop Tier 2” an officer yells next. The same cell door fires open and then another door that leads up a steel staircase to what has to be “Tier 2” clanks open as well. “Up there” the officer says to myself and the only other remaining guy. “Here we go”… I think to myself.

As I slowly ascend the stairs toward the complete unknown… I hear the chaos before I see it. Loud voices… talking… yelling… laughing… it is as if am walking into a crowded High School cafeteria at lunch time (if I could only be so lucky). As I get to the top of the stairs… I see a guy in his mid-40s standing in the doorway blocking the entrance… he is wearing orange “prison pants”… blue “prison shoes”… no shirt and a beany half way on his head. “You a wood?!” he says to me. I stare blankly at him. “Ayy mothafcka… you a wood?!” he repeats. “Ughh… what?” I say because I have absolutely no idea what he is talking about. “A wood dawg. You a fckin wood??” he says again starting to get frustrated. He might as well be speaking a different language because I am lost. Due to my acting “tough” on the outside but scared sh*tless on the inside… no words come out of my mouth. “You are white… right?” he says. “Ughh… yeah… yeah…I’m white” I fumble back to him. “Well… then you with them” and he points to a group of guys about 4 bunks down the tier to the right.

And this is when I meet Rick aka ‘RickRock’. As I walk toward the bunks that are apparently for the “woods”. A guy jumps out of bed and immediately puts his hand out… “My bad bro. I didn’t even see you come in. I’m Rick. They call me ‘RickRock’. This will be your bunk… right above me.” And he helps grabs my “mat” (the thin piece of plastic that I will be sleeping on) for me and puts it on my rack. Rick proceeds to walk me through the in’s and out’s of what my life will look like while I am living at lovely CDC. He shows me the showers… shows me the toilets (specifically which ones I can use and what I can use them for)… shows me the hot water for coffee and where to sit when we eat… gives me some food and basically sets me up with the essentials. Rick was there for me at my absolute lowest and provided just the smallest semblance of light in a genuinely dark… I’m talking pitch black… place.

Through the weeks that I was there… Rick and I talked about his life in the real world… that he was a crab fisherman and all he wanted was to get back to his boat… set his traps and return to the “simple life” that he loves. I remember thinking that he reminded me so much of Bubba and Forrest Gump because he could talk about crab… catching crab…cooking crab… selling crab… crab crab crab for days. As he talked… I played the scene in my mind… “Lemon shrimp… BBQ shrimp… Pepper shrimp… Sauteed shrimp… fried shrimp… grilled shrimp. I know everything there is to know about the shrimpin business”… Rick was essentially a white crab catching Bubba and his stories allowed me to escape hell for a few moments per day. And then… as abruptly as I was thrust into this hell-ish world… it was over. My name was called over the loud speaker… “Horwitz. Roll it up!”…I had bonded out… I said Goodbye to Rick… and we both went about our journey…

Until this past week… when ‘the story’ takes place…

I picked up my mail Tuesday evening and had received a couple sets of pictures. I sit down and open them up and the first thing that I see is a beautiful sunset behind 3 motors of a boat. I flip to the next picture… a boat deck stacked with crab bate traps. The next picture… 2 men wearing masks holding massive crab in their hands. The next picture… Rick standing with his arm around his oldest son at his high school graduation. And I’m sitting there… frozen in time until I let out a “holy sh*t” kind of laugh with the biggest smile on my face. I go through picture after picture of crab crates… crab… Rick with massive fishing poles on his boat… incredible sunsets and toward the end… a short note. The note reminding me who he was… “What’s up bro. It’s RickRock. Your Bunkie from CDC…” and then went on to tell me that he hopes I am doing well… keep my head up… his number and to call him any time. And just behind the note… was the last picture… a snap shot of a quote… white letters… black background… it took my breath right out of my lungs…

“Your tribe is filled with the ones who see you hit bottom and stay to hold your hand until you climb back to the top of yourself again.”

I mean… just no words. Amen Rick. Amen.

You receive these gifts sometimes… seemingly out of nowhere… when you really need them… even if you don’t know it.

Thank you… from the bottom of my heart. Thank you.

Stay Healthy. Stay Active. Reach out… you just never know.