I’d heard of Bollus sure enough. The Bollus Institute was an educational and cultural center out Rawlings way. A grand old house on thirty acres of prime land with a swanky hotel attached. I knew it functioned as a halfway house, a “labor facility” where penitentiary inmates worked prior to their release. It had been in the news due to some kind of affiliation with a militant black group, I recalled. Some accusations of anti-white bias. But before I heard Benno’s story I had no idea what kind of shit went on there. I was appalled. Poor Benno, he’d had enough bad luck for a heap of lifetimes.
Benno was an old college friend. We both studied law in New Orleans, but drifted apart after graduation. I’d joined a divorce practice in Baton Rouge, while he’d moved to Mobile to advise an oil corp. In college he’d started his first serious relationship, with a busty brunette called Estelle who he’d met in the French Quarter. Estelle lived in Mobile, and eventually persuaded Benno to settle in Alabama
I’d been suspicious right from the start. Estelle was hot as hell, always high heels, fine jewelry and a sexy tailored style. She made men stare, that’s for sure. She was a few years older than Benno and - as I saw it - way out of his league. To me, she had gold digger written all over her. She had this look in her eyes, you know, like maybe she was high or something. Her smiles seemed a little forced. She shook her hot ass, though, she shook it like a pro. ”Mr Big Easy” she always called Benno. That was his nickname when Estelle was in town.
She’d started visiting New Orleans regularly, staying at the Roosevelt, with Benno footing the bills. My then-girlfriend and I, we’d go on double dates with them, but Estelle always seemed aloof with me, eyeing me with scorn. Like I was some kind of rival, I thought. Benno though, was smitten. He couldn’t take his eyes off Estelle’s curves. She loved to flirt, and it was obvious how aroused he was in her company. It was like he hung on her every word.
Before he met Estelle, Benno’s mother had died, leaving him an inheritance and giving him more options than me. After graduation, I was happy to land a 50k job in Baton Rouge. Benno, with his new wealth, had purchased a posh waterfront condo in Mobile, and moved in with Estelle. I was working hard, and after a while our calls became rarer. Eventually, we stopped calling altogether.
I hadn’t seen Benno for almost a year when I saw his mugshot in the Herald. I was aghast. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Benjamin Glochter, aka Benno, had been sentenced to a four-year stretch for drug dealing and money laundering. I was dumbfounded. Benno was as straight as a board. He didn’t even smoke reefer. He was the last person you’d expect to be involved in a such a deal. I stared at Benno’s mugshot in disbelief. Apparently, he had been the “lynchpin” in a cocaine deal. He had provided the funds for purchase and laundered the profits. “This rich, privileged white man will no longer profit from teenagers’ misery” the District Attorney was quoted as saying outside court.
To my eternal shame, I didn’t visit Benno in the joint. I felt guilty, but I didn’t know where he was incarcerated. It could easily be anywhere in the South. In the end I just kind of erased the news from my mind. Hell, maybe he was really guilty, I thought. People change. Maybe it was best not to have anything to do with him now.
Anyhow, it must have been a good couple of years later. I was just closing up my Baton Rouge office and looking forward to my first drink of the day when I heard the intercom buzz. “Heyyyy partner, guess who” a voice said. I didn’t recognize it at first. Then I realized it was Benno. His jollity sounded somehow forced, I thought as I buzzed him in.
“Johnny my friend, how ya doin? Benno said, smiling and reaching an arm out as he stepped into my office. He seemed nervous, perhaps a little *****. He looked unkempt and had a bruise on his cheek.
“Partner, I’m sorry to just call in uninvited, but I don't know where to turn.” he said.”It’s important. K..kind of embarrasing...but I'm telling you buddy, I've been through hell.”
“Sure, no problem friend,” I said. ”But why not have a drink first? Sit down, buddy” As he did so, his pants rode up to reveal a jail tag above his ankle. I poured us both scotch and sodas, and sat down in the seat next to Benno. He immediately took a gulp.
“Well well well, if it aint Mr Big Easy himself” I said. ”How ya doing Benno?”
”N....not good, Johnny. Benno replied. "Not too fucking good. You wouldn’t believe...”
”Listen Benno” I interrupted. “First let me say this. I’m sorry I never got out to see you. I didn’t get word of your troubles till recently. I was planning on paying you a visit. But hey, it’s great to see you out of jail so soon, buddy.”
”No problem buddy” Benno said. ”Don’t give it another thought.”
“So Benno, how long you been out? I said. “How’s Estelle? “
Benno suddenly looked ashen. I had half an idea what was coming next.
”Fuck her, that gold digging whore” Benno said. "That bitch. You're not gonna beleive what she did to me."
“So you… you aren’t together now?”
“No we’re fucking not” he said rubbing his eyes. “She’s with someone else now isn’t she. A black man. She divorced my ass.“
”Johnny, that bitch was a grifter. She took me for all I had! ” Benno said.
All of a sudden Benno burst into tears. I felt sorry and embarrassed for him at the same time.
In the divorce trade, there’s a type of woman known a “wallet stripper”. A bitch who marries not for love, but solely for money. Hell, the internet is full of warnings about bitches who’ll marry you for the sole reason of emptying your wallet. You encounter a lot of shitty guys, of course, but in my experience women can be the cruellest and most calculating. If I could give guys one piece of advice it would be never get married.
As Benno sobbed, I made a quick calculation. With the inheritance, he must have been worth over a million. Even half of that is a tempting target for a smart bitch with expensive tastes like Estelle.
”She saw me coming, Johnny, Estelle took me for a ride. Benno said. ”All the time we were dating, she had a black guy in Mobile. A mean motherfucker too.”
”Mr Big Easy, that’s fucking hilarious” Benno said. ”She divorced my ass easy enough. She sold my fucking condo easy enough too, while I was inside. Bitch must have had a buyer lined up. It was sold within weeks of me being sentenced. Nothing but a black man’s whore and a fucking grifter, that’s all she is. I wish I’d never fucking set eyes on her.”
"Buddy, what happened?" I asked.
“I’ve had some darn shitty luck” Benno sobbed. “ I was set up, I swear to god. Estelle was in on it. She must have been. Christ, I never knew women could be that cruel.”
“She divorced you? I asked. “So you guys had ended up getting married?”
“Yes” Benno sobbed. “In Vegas. I gave her a fucking diamond”
”You get it back?” I tried to joke, but it came out flat. Benno just snorted and laughed bitterly.
” Estelle couldn't wait to see my ass slammed in the joint, “ Benno said “She never cared for me. She was just waiting on it, waiting to get the fucking party started. You know the law, right?”
I knew about divorce law all right. A woman can easily divorce her husband if he becomes a convicted felon, on terms akin to negligence. With the right lawyer, she can strip her husband of his remaining assets while he serves his time.
”Hold on Benno, woah” I said. “Are you saying that Estelle conspired to have you incarcerated, then filed for divorce? She had a lover? She played you from the start?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying!” Beno said. ”The bitch wanted to see me broken. She knew that I didn’t have anything to do with that stash of drugs and cash in the car. It was all a set up. She wanted me out of the way! And guess what man. I know for a fact she was partying right after I was sent to the joint! I swear man.”
”What do you mean, partying?”
”During my first week in Wade, my first week in the can, man, guess where Estelle is?”
I had no reply
“Santo fucking Domingo!” Benno spat bitterly. “A club called Hedonism”.
“Go on, ask me how I know?” Benno said. ”I’ll tell you how. Because some fucking niggers from another cell block came to find me, to show me how much my wife didn’t give a shit about me”
I was shocked at his use of the racial slur. But I let it slide.
“They were Skyping, man. The showed me videos of her partying, man, wearing a baseball cap, snorting a line of coke, living this fucking hip hop lifestyle. Twerking for fuck’s sake. Saying racial shit, you know, putting down white men. Giving hubbie the finger, the horns sign. Begging for a length. Can you imagine what that fuckin did to me? Back then I was still in love with her.”
“Aww, shit, shit, I’m sorry to hear that Benno, I’m sorry” I said
“As you might imagine” Benno said. “It was a fucking nightmare inside. Everyone knew my wife was cheating on me with Raphael. He was her fucking pimp man. The shame was total. I was a privileged white man in a prison ruled by black gangs. Buddy, I had to pay not to be beaten up. I’m a deadbeat now. I’ve got nothing left. Nothing,”
I shuddered. What happened to Benno could happen to anyone. It sounded horrendous. Especially so if he was innocent, set up by his bitch wife and her cohorts.
“Hey buddy, at least you’re out now. You can still make a living, start again”
“Not in the legal profession I can’t.” Benno said. ”Maybe flipping burgers. But Johnny that’s only the half of it. Seeing me incarcerated, that’s only half of what Estelle did to me. You aint heard nothing yet.”
What the fuck else could she have done, I thought.
”What do you mean, Benno?” I said.
“Listen Johnny”. Benno continued, lowering his voice to almost a whisper “As one of the terms of my parole, I’m not allowed to discuss conditions at Bollus. I can be hauled back in an instant. I’m scared…well of telling even you. This never came from me, right.”
”Buddy I get it” I said. "Don't worry about me. This is confidential".
As a lawyer in downtown Baton Rouge, I knew all about the early release program. I knew that the prisoners were worked hard, sometimes unfairly hard. Their reward was early release. You remained on license for the rest of your sentence, and could can be hauled back if you breached a number of conditions including, I recalled, negative commentary about the justice system. I think the Patriot Act somehow enabled such shit to happen, though it’s not my field
Despite the tough conditions on many jobs, it remained popular as a means of cutting jail populations, and inmates were eager to sign up. But it had also been the subject of accusations - corruption, favoritism, inmate violence. Slave labor for private interests, its critics had called it But hell, man, the whole system is corrupt.
“They’d treat us like shit man, worse than dirt” Benno said.” They called it a halfway house, but it was more like a fucking labor camp. I’ve never known anywhere like it. I’ve never known such abuse and humiliation. Can I trust you Johnny?”
”Friend, we’re cool” I said to Benno, offering him a refill. ”This conversation is between me and you. It never happened. ”
”Tell me about Bollus” I said.
Part 2
Benno was an old college friend. We both studied law in New Orleans, but drifted apart after graduation. I’d joined a divorce practice in Baton Rouge, while he’d moved to Mobile to advise an oil corp. In college he’d started his first serious relationship, with a busty brunette called Estelle who he’d met in the French Quarter. Estelle lived in Mobile, and eventually persuaded Benno to settle in Alabama
I’d been suspicious right from the start. Estelle was hot as hell, always high heels, fine jewelry and a sexy tailored style. She made men stare, that’s for sure. She was a few years older than Benno and - as I saw it - way out of his league. To me, she had gold digger written all over her. She had this look in her eyes, you know, like maybe she was high or something. Her smiles seemed a little forced. She shook her hot ass, though, she shook it like a pro. ”Mr Big Easy” she always called Benno. That was his nickname when Estelle was in town.
She’d started visiting New Orleans regularly, staying at the Roosevelt, with Benno footing the bills. My then-girlfriend and I, we’d go on double dates with them, but Estelle always seemed aloof with me, eyeing me with scorn. Like I was some kind of rival, I thought. Benno though, was smitten. He couldn’t take his eyes off Estelle’s curves. She loved to flirt, and it was obvious how aroused he was in her company. It was like he hung on her every word.
Before he met Estelle, Benno’s mother had died, leaving him an inheritance and giving him more options than me. After graduation, I was happy to land a 50k job in Baton Rouge. Benno, with his new wealth, had purchased a posh waterfront condo in Mobile, and moved in with Estelle. I was working hard, and after a while our calls became rarer. Eventually, we stopped calling altogether.
I hadn’t seen Benno for almost a year when I saw his mugshot in the Herald. I was aghast. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Benjamin Glochter, aka Benno, had been sentenced to a four-year stretch for drug dealing and money laundering. I was dumbfounded. Benno was as straight as a board. He didn’t even smoke reefer. He was the last person you’d expect to be involved in a such a deal. I stared at Benno’s mugshot in disbelief. Apparently, he had been the “lynchpin” in a cocaine deal. He had provided the funds for purchase and laundered the profits. “This rich, privileged white man will no longer profit from teenagers’ misery” the District Attorney was quoted as saying outside court.
To my eternal shame, I didn’t visit Benno in the joint. I felt guilty, but I didn’t know where he was incarcerated. It could easily be anywhere in the South. In the end I just kind of erased the news from my mind. Hell, maybe he was really guilty, I thought. People change. Maybe it was best not to have anything to do with him now.
Anyhow, it must have been a good couple of years later. I was just closing up my Baton Rouge office and looking forward to my first drink of the day when I heard the intercom buzz. “Heyyyy partner, guess who” a voice said. I didn’t recognize it at first. Then I realized it was Benno. His jollity sounded somehow forced, I thought as I buzzed him in.
“Johnny my friend, how ya doin? Benno said, smiling and reaching an arm out as he stepped into my office. He seemed nervous, perhaps a little *****. He looked unkempt and had a bruise on his cheek.
“Partner, I’m sorry to just call in uninvited, but I don't know where to turn.” he said.”It’s important. K..kind of embarrasing...but I'm telling you buddy, I've been through hell.”
“Sure, no problem friend,” I said. ”But why not have a drink first? Sit down, buddy” As he did so, his pants rode up to reveal a jail tag above his ankle. I poured us both scotch and sodas, and sat down in the seat next to Benno. He immediately took a gulp.
“Well well well, if it aint Mr Big Easy himself” I said. ”How ya doing Benno?”
”N....not good, Johnny. Benno replied. "Not too fucking good. You wouldn’t believe...”
”Listen Benno” I interrupted. “First let me say this. I’m sorry I never got out to see you. I didn’t get word of your troubles till recently. I was planning on paying you a visit. But hey, it’s great to see you out of jail so soon, buddy.”
”No problem buddy” Benno said. ”Don’t give it another thought.”
“So Benno, how long you been out? I said. “How’s Estelle? “
Benno suddenly looked ashen. I had half an idea what was coming next.
”Fuck her, that gold digging whore” Benno said. "That bitch. You're not gonna beleive what she did to me."
“So you… you aren’t together now?”
“No we’re fucking not” he said rubbing his eyes. “She’s with someone else now isn’t she. A black man. She divorced my ass.“
”Johnny, that bitch was a grifter. She took me for all I had! ” Benno said.
All of a sudden Benno burst into tears. I felt sorry and embarrassed for him at the same time.
In the divorce trade, there’s a type of woman known a “wallet stripper”. A bitch who marries not for love, but solely for money. Hell, the internet is full of warnings about bitches who’ll marry you for the sole reason of emptying your wallet. You encounter a lot of shitty guys, of course, but in my experience women can be the cruellest and most calculating. If I could give guys one piece of advice it would be never get married.
As Benno sobbed, I made a quick calculation. With the inheritance, he must have been worth over a million. Even half of that is a tempting target for a smart bitch with expensive tastes like Estelle.
”She saw me coming, Johnny, Estelle took me for a ride. Benno said. ”All the time we were dating, she had a black guy in Mobile. A mean motherfucker too.”
”Mr Big Easy, that’s fucking hilarious” Benno said. ”She divorced my ass easy enough. She sold my fucking condo easy enough too, while I was inside. Bitch must have had a buyer lined up. It was sold within weeks of me being sentenced. Nothing but a black man’s whore and a fucking grifter, that’s all she is. I wish I’d never fucking set eyes on her.”
"Buddy, what happened?" I asked.
“I’ve had some darn shitty luck” Benno sobbed. “ I was set up, I swear to god. Estelle was in on it. She must have been. Christ, I never knew women could be that cruel.”
“She divorced you? I asked. “So you guys had ended up getting married?”
“Yes” Benno sobbed. “In Vegas. I gave her a fucking diamond”
”You get it back?” I tried to joke, but it came out flat. Benno just snorted and laughed bitterly.
” Estelle couldn't wait to see my ass slammed in the joint, “ Benno said “She never cared for me. She was just waiting on it, waiting to get the fucking party started. You know the law, right?”
I knew about divorce law all right. A woman can easily divorce her husband if he becomes a convicted felon, on terms akin to negligence. With the right lawyer, she can strip her husband of his remaining assets while he serves his time.
”Hold on Benno, woah” I said. “Are you saying that Estelle conspired to have you incarcerated, then filed for divorce? She had a lover? She played you from the start?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying!” Beno said. ”The bitch wanted to see me broken. She knew that I didn’t have anything to do with that stash of drugs and cash in the car. It was all a set up. She wanted me out of the way! And guess what man. I know for a fact she was partying right after I was sent to the joint! I swear man.”
”What do you mean, partying?”
”During my first week in Wade, my first week in the can, man, guess where Estelle is?”
I had no reply
“Santo fucking Domingo!” Benno spat bitterly. “A club called Hedonism”.
“Go on, ask me how I know?” Benno said. ”I’ll tell you how. Because some fucking niggers from another cell block came to find me, to show me how much my wife didn’t give a shit about me”
I was shocked at his use of the racial slur. But I let it slide.
“They were Skyping, man. The showed me videos of her partying, man, wearing a baseball cap, snorting a line of coke, living this fucking hip hop lifestyle. Twerking for fuck’s sake. Saying racial shit, you know, putting down white men. Giving hubbie the finger, the horns sign. Begging for a length. Can you imagine what that fuckin did to me? Back then I was still in love with her.”
“Aww, shit, shit, I’m sorry to hear that Benno, I’m sorry” I said
“As you might imagine” Benno said. “It was a fucking nightmare inside. Everyone knew my wife was cheating on me with Raphael. He was her fucking pimp man. The shame was total. I was a privileged white man in a prison ruled by black gangs. Buddy, I had to pay not to be beaten up. I’m a deadbeat now. I’ve got nothing left. Nothing,”
I shuddered. What happened to Benno could happen to anyone. It sounded horrendous. Especially so if he was innocent, set up by his bitch wife and her cohorts.
“Hey buddy, at least you’re out now. You can still make a living, start again”
“Not in the legal profession I can’t.” Benno said. ”Maybe flipping burgers. But Johnny that’s only the half of it. Seeing me incarcerated, that’s only half of what Estelle did to me. You aint heard nothing yet.”
What the fuck else could she have done, I thought.
”What do you mean, Benno?” I said.
“Listen Johnny”. Benno continued, lowering his voice to almost a whisper “As one of the terms of my parole, I’m not allowed to discuss conditions at Bollus. I can be hauled back in an instant. I’m scared…well of telling even you. This never came from me, right.”
”Buddy I get it” I said. "Don't worry about me. This is confidential".
As a lawyer in downtown Baton Rouge, I knew all about the early release program. I knew that the prisoners were worked hard, sometimes unfairly hard. Their reward was early release. You remained on license for the rest of your sentence, and could can be hauled back if you breached a number of conditions including, I recalled, negative commentary about the justice system. I think the Patriot Act somehow enabled such shit to happen, though it’s not my field
Despite the tough conditions on many jobs, it remained popular as a means of cutting jail populations, and inmates were eager to sign up. But it had also been the subject of accusations - corruption, favoritism, inmate violence. Slave labor for private interests, its critics had called it But hell, man, the whole system is corrupt.
“They’d treat us like shit man, worse than dirt” Benno said.” They called it a halfway house, but it was more like a fucking labor camp. I’ve never known anywhere like it. I’ve never known such abuse and humiliation. Can I trust you Johnny?”
”Friend, we’re cool” I said to Benno, offering him a refill. ”This conversation is between me and you. It never happened. ”
”Tell me about Bollus” I said.
Part 2
- Next: Chapter 02
