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MARCHING POWDER

La Grulla. Gradually, I got him to accept small amounts of money. I would say that I wanted to buy him some special boot polish, or help him save for an extra uniform, and since I couldn’t get to a shop, he would have to make the purchase himself. Provided the money was for work and not for him, it was OK. Then, as the amounts increased, I began to put doubts in his mind about his girlfriend.

‘You’ll need to start saving right away if you’re going to get married,’ I declared. ‘Or she might leave you.’
‘She would never do that. She’s not like that.’
‘Show me that photo again, then.’ Pizza Boy pulled the picture out of his wallet for the tenth time and held it up proudly by the corner. The girlfriend was ugly, but he never let me touch her photo in case I got fingerprints on it. ‘She’s a very special-looking woman. A woman like that needs a man to care for her. And if you can’t do it, there are a thousand men out there with money who will. How are you going to look after her on your salary?’

That made Pizza Boy very worried. The pay for a private was less than one hundred dollars per month. We got started on a wedding fund immediately. I would send him out into the main prison to buy proper food from the restaurants and bring it back to me in solitary confinement. I called this ‘cell delivery service’. With the tips I had to pay him, it was an expensive way to eat, but it was worth it. If I’d had more money, I would have sent Pizza Boy outside the prison to pick me up a takeaway ham and pineapple, extra-thick crust.

There was only one occasion that I ate better food than what Mario brought me. Towards the end of yard time one afternoon, two guards we had never seen before came into the section carrying a collapsible table. Nothing interesting ever happened in solitary, so we all stopped what we were doing and stared. They left the table lying against the wall and we watched them leave, then come back again five minutes later, this time carrying a huge barrel of steaming soup and a tray filled with fried chicken pieces covered in mushroom sauce. The delicious smell of the food filled our small exercise area.

Then they set up the table and started setting the places with knives, forks and paper napkins. It seemed there was to be some kind of party. But what a strange place to have it! And who was it for? It certainly

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