“Man, look at those pigeons. It’d be nice to be free like them,” Oz sighed.
“Those birds ain’t free,” Huggie replied. “Ain’t nobody free.”
“They can fly anywhere they want. I’d call that free.”
“Oz, you’re a damn fool. Check it.” Huggy reached deep into his pockets and scattered bread crumbs on the dirt. The pigeons swarmed around him.
“So? They’re hungry.”
“I put bread crumbs to the left, Birds go left. Bread crumbs to the right, they go right. No free will.”
“That don’t prove anything, man. They don’t have to take the crumbs.”
Huggy laughed. “They always do, fool! You grow wings and fly, we’ll see how far you get. You’ll be doing the same shit, talking the same shit, only down in Mexico instead of here.”
“Doesn’t sound bad to me. People can change, you know?”
“Yeah, if the man throws bread crumbs some other place. Problem is, we only got so many breadcrumbs and they all leadin’ right. Here.” He knocked on the bench. It sounded like a hollow door.
“Breadcrumbs. I don’t know what the fuck you’re saying anymore, man.”
“I’m sayin’ that everythin’s decided for us the day we born. We live in a prison the size of the world. Ain’t no way out of it.”
“I don’t want to listen to this shit, man. Ain’t nobody tellin’ me what to do.”
“Motherfucker’s deluded,” Huggy laughed, then punched Oz in the shoulder. “Eyes up. Here he comes.” Huggy whispered. He got up out of his chair. The pigeons scattered. “Trey! What’s up, my man?”
Trey’s eyes bulged like a fish. “Wait! No!”
Huggy and Oz had been sharpening their screws the entire day before. Each one slid into Trey’s neck like they were going into a corn cob.
“Motherfucker looks like Frankenstein,” Huggy laughed.
A crowd gathered around, clouding the scene in an instant. “Oh God! Someone help!” Oz yelled to nobody in particular. “This dude’s been stabbed. Man, somebody stabbed this guy!”
All the prisoners moved in to get a better look. Some of them laughed. Others were furious, but the guards came with their rifles and trigger fingers and nobody could do a thing without getting shot first.
“Back in your cages, you fucking animals!” the warden screamed. The men filed into the prison.
“Shouldn’t we get a doctor?” a guard asked.
“Ain’t gonna do nothin’ now,” the warden spat, watching Trey’s bulging eyes and his blood mixing with the dirt. “But I’ll tell you what. You get the doctor an’ I’ll call up the coroner. We’ll see who comes out on top.”
When the yard was clear and the guards had herded the men back to their cells, the pigeons flew back to the yard to finish the leftovers.