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41
SAMIR

Samir continued smiling at me strangely, and then he stood up and came over too. Jorge Velasco moved over to make space. The other inmates usually avoided Samir because he could go from being very serious to completely out of control in the click of a finger. But of all the inmates in La Grulla, Samir was my best friend. The others didn't know him like I did. Samir and I had spent a lot of time together and he had told me a lot of things about his childhood and his experiences in prison. He had grown up on the streets stealing cars and had spent more of his life inside prison than outside. Jail no longer worried him and solitary confinement was like his second home.

'Nice day, hey?' I prompted him. The Brazilian poked out his thick, bottom lip to show that he agreed, more or less. Even though he was smiling, that day appeared to be one of his silent ones.

Sometimes I worried about what would become of him. I like to think that everyone has a chance to change, but it seemed that Samir was born to a life of crime. I tried to encourage him to use all his crazy energy to do positive things, but it was often hard to talk with him seriously. These days, all he wanted to do was party. I guessed that he would keep pushing the limits further and further until one day he ran into a wall. And there was nothing that I, nor the best psychiatrist in the world, could do about it. It didn't matter, though; Samir was mad and dangerous, but he was my friend.

'What more could you ask for on a day like this?' I tried again, poking him in the ribs to liven him up. Samir's grin broadened, showing his teeth, which were all out of alignment and one of which was black.

He responded with a single word – 'Beer' – although he used the