Free Significant Others by Armistead Maupin Page A

the cellhouse to await further instructions. When their ranger arrived, he explained that due to the size of the crowd, visitors would be required to split up and choose among three lecture topics.
    “The three topics,” he explained soberly, “are Security Measures, Famous Inmates and Discipline.”
    Charlie leaned forward and whispered “Discipline” in Michael’s ear.
    Michael grinned at him.
    As if reading their minds, the ranger added briskly: “Those of you who’ve chosen Discipline please follow Guy through the shower room to D Block.”
    “Oh, Guy,” crooned Charlie.
    By the time they had all assembled in the shower room, the demography of their tour group had become absurdly evident: Michael, Charlie, the strawberry blond, and at least two dozen girls from the Catholic school.
    The ranger led the way into D Block, doing his best to herd the giggling children. “There were a lot of different names given to this area—solitary, segregation, special treatment unit, isolation. Prisoners here spent up to twenty-four hours a day inside their cells. They had their own shower facilities down there at the end of the cellblock, since they were forbidden to shower with the other inmates.”
    Michael and Charlie exchanged glances.
    “Cells nine through fourteen were known by the inmates as the ‘dark cells’ and were the most severe form of punishment on Alcatraz. The men stayed in total darkness inside these cells, which are steel-lined, and they were given mattresses only at night. They were fed twice a day on what was known as a ‘reduced diet'—mashed vegetables in a cup.”
    “Eeeyew, ” went the schoolgirls in unison.
    “If you’d like to see what it was like to spend time in a ‘dark cell,’ pick a cell and I’ll close the door behind you.”
    The children squealed with fun house terror, formed protective clumps, and crowded into the six chambers. Michael was headed for Cell 11 when Charlie grabbed his arm. “Use your head, dummy. Go for twelve.”
    He glanced toward Cell 12 and saw a splendiferous smile hovering above a sea of schoolgirls.
    “Go on,” said Charlie.
    Michael hesitated, then entered the cell, watching the smile grow broader.
    Seconds later, the ranger approached and closed the heavy door with a resounding clang. The tiny room was plunged into instant and total darkness, provoking another shriek from the girls.
    Their mock ordeal lasted only a second or two; then the door swung open again, spilling light into the cell. The strawberry blond was no longer smiling, but he seemed a little closer than before. “Pretty creepy,” he said.
    “Isn’t it?” said Michael.
    “And we had company,” said the man. “What can it be like when you’re alone?”
    Michael let the tide of children sweep him out of the cell. The man caught up with him and extended his hand. “I’m Thack,” he said.
    Michael shook his hand. “I’m Michael.”
    Charlie was watching them, arms folded across his chest, a triumphant gleam in his eye. “How was it?” he asked.
    “Um … Charlie,” Michael fumbled, “this is Thad.”
    “Thack,” said the man, correcting him. “It was great. Didn’t you try it?” He met Charlie’s gaze without flinching, Michael noticed. A point in his favor.
    Charlie shook his head. “I can’t handle a crowded cocktail party.”
    Thack laughed, then turned back to Michael. “You guys from around here?”
    “Yeah,” Michael replied, avoiding his eyes. They were too easy to drown in.
    “Isn’t this kind of … touristy, for a local?”
    Michael shrugged. “We’d never done it, so we thought it was time.”
    “Like New Yorkers and the Statue of Liberty.”
    “Right.” Charlie nodded. “Is that where you’re from?” He was hovering like a Jewish mother interviewing a candidate for son-in-law.
    “Charleston,” said Thack.
    “West Virginia?”
    “South Carolina.”
    “A Southerner!” exclaimed Charlie, far too gleefully. “Michael’s a Southerner. You