The Bat
Chuck Martin
Sergeant Brown locked me in the building. He had the only key to the front door. I was
virtually a prisoner within a prison. I was a Correctional Officer working 1st watch in D Quad,
one of four quads inside the California Men’s Colony. It housed the mentally disturbed inmates.
For security the key to the front door is kept with the sergeant. The officer has a key to the Lock
Box, which unlocks the cells on one floor, and a master key to each cell. Only dim lights are left
on in the building.
I sat at my desk listening to night sounds. A muffled scream from some where down the
hall; loud talking and mumbling from unknown cells. A little spooked I counted the two story
building holding my flashlight, peering into five by six inch cell windows. Inmates slept; stood
talking to the ceiling, and some paced. Eerie sounds echoed down drafty halls, from unknown
places sending chills down my spine.
At my desk I heard loud pounding and kicking on a cell door. I went to the room halfway
down the right side on the first floor. An inmate stood on the other side of the glass. With a look
of horror he screamed. “There’s a bat in my cell…There’s a bat in my cell! Please help me.”
I called Sergeant Brown. “ I’ve got an inmate kicking his door and yelling there’s a bat in his
cell.”
“Tell that guy if he doesn’t quiet down I’ll put him in a “P” cell.” A “P” Cell is for unmanageable inmates.
I told the inmate what the sergeant said. “O.K., I’ll try to be quiet.”
Fifteen minutes later back at my desk the kicking and screaming continued.
“There’s a bat in my cell…HELP ME, PLEASE!”
“There’s a bat in my cell…HELP ME, PLEASE!”
I called the sergeant. “You tell that guy to be quiet and go to bed or I’ll be over there, and
he doesn’t want me over there!”
I explained what the sergeant stated and the inmate said he would try to go to sleep. A while
later pounding and screaming continued. I called Brown. He came over; angry. Over the kicking
and shouting he said, “You throw the bar and I’ll key his door. I’ll try to talk to him, but we may
have to wrestle this guy.”
Brown walked to the cell door, placed his key in the lock and gave me the signal to throw the
bar. I did, he slid the door open, and a little black, fuzzy bat flew out. “Oh, thank you sergeant,
thank you,” the inmate exclaimed and laid down on his bunk.
The sergeant closed the door and I threw the bar. Not saying anything Brown walked to the
front door, opened it, turned to me, and with a slight smile said. “I’ll be darned, there was a bat
in his cell"
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