The Stories You Ignore: The Temple

By Mr. J

Kicking off the series The Stories You Ignore, Mr. J. takes us to “ The Temple”; A juvenile correctional facility in the midst of a major transition. This story follows a cohort of sentenced young men led by a fed up veteran staff who simply wants to retire in peace. However, with supporting staff members whose goals include inflicting as much pain to the residents as possible and a group of gang affiliated youth who despise each other, this goal seems to be everything but possible. Need more? The author pulls from his “both sides of the fence” experience to give us this based on true events classic. Will the young men and staff survive the storm? Or will this Just be another Story You Ignore?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: May 16, 2021
• ISBN: 9781665525527

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

"Back in the 1920s, a monk by the name of Dow Jung made it his mission to help immigrant youths who were having a hard time adjusting to the free world of America. Back then, his strategy was simple: give children time to clear their heads, and soon their behaviors would grow to be those of a young adult. I’ll skip past all his other philosophies of peace, meditation, and self-mastery, and I’ll fast-forward to now. Once the state of New York took over this facility from the Jung family, the model quickly became hitting children in the head hard enough to make them get their shit together.

"With that being said, I’m Mr. Johnson, and that is how you will address me. I am the facility president, which means I make sure things run as smoothly as possible. You will get to know the staff behind me very shortly. The gentleman to my left is my mentee, Mr. Colombo, who was handpicked by the director. He will be my shadow, and as with all the other staff, I expect you to give him complete respect.

Now, your stay here can be either very easy or very hard, Johnson said as he continued to take short strides back and forth in front of the unit. "This is a choice you will make on a day-to-day basis. I’m not here to be your father, and I’m damned sure not here to be your mother. I’ve dealt with the strongest of them, and I’ve watched those same ones whimper in their rooms after shit hits the fan. I’m approaching the end of my career here, and my job is to pass on the best practices, skills, and knowledge to keep this place going after my departure.

You’re just starting your stay here and should keep all this in mind. Gentlemen, welcome to the Temple."

Ten young men stood cluelessly lined up in front of the unit as a tall, scruffy, bearded staff member stepped in front of Johnson and addressed the group. I’m Captain Smith; you can call me Cap, he shouted. This is the time to go directly into your rooms and get into your assigned uniforms. You will then put your transition clothes in the plastic bag provided to you. You have exactly three minutes to complete this task. Captain Smith spoke in a militant tone. I will call off your name, and you will go directly to the room with your name at the top of the door. If you can’t read your own name, then raise your hand and ask for help, and staff will help you get acquainted with your new home. With that being said, room number one, Simpson! Two, Jackson! Three, Ali! Four, Stennet! Five, Williams! Six, Russels! Seven, Trayer!

Smith lifted his head from the unit names list, taking notice that no one moved. Trayer! he called out once more, looking at the young men who remained. Two residents looked toward the young man standing between, verifying Trayer wasn’t them. Captain Smith approached the young man who stood in the middle. Something wrong with your ears, son? Smith asked as other staff surrounded the resident.

The young man lifted his head and looked directly at Captain Smith. Nah. I heard you, but I don’t go by that, he said.

Oh, really? It says here on this form, ‘Michael Trayer, DOB 2/12/2001.’ Is that not you? yelled Captain Smith.

The young man unclenched his teeth and replied, Like I said, I don’t go by— Staff Grumpson grabbed Trayer and body slammed him so hard to the floor that he seemed to come out of his red transition sweater.

Trayer shouted, Get the fuck off me! Get the fuck off me!

Grumpson, who already had one of Trayer’s arms twisted, put his knee firmly into resident Trayer’s back.

Ah, please! Get the fuck off me!

Grumpson handcuffed Trayer and dragged him to his room, located in the corner of the dorm area. The remaining residents cringed at the sight of Trayer’s face; the left side of his cheek had been severely rugburned. Captain Smith, unaffected by the sight, continued. Now, where was I? Trayer’s muffled screams continued to come from his room. Oh, here we are. Number eight, Lotta! Nine, Gray!, And room ten, Jacobs!

Johnson shook his head with a slight smile and turned to Colombo. There’s always one knucklehead in every group. See, mentee, when they come in, you’ve got to set an example for the rest of them. That this is not the time or the place to have any of that BS. Colombo shook his head with a semishocked expression.

Understood? Johnson called out to the rest of the unit. Okay, fellas, come out and stand in front of your door. Bring your plastic bag with you. The staff will be coming around and providing you with your resident handbook, which has your rights and responsibilities. The other material being provided to you includes program outlines, rec schedules, and a list of terms you should familiarize yourself with.

Grumpson exited Trayer’s room, out of breath. Grumpson made eye contact with Johnson as he exited the unit with an evil smirk on his face. Johnson shook his head slightly and continued. Actually, fellas, I’ll give you your first one free. Reflection! he yelled. When this is called out, all residents are to immediately report to their rooms, shut their doors, and quietly pretend to do something beneficial. For most of you, this will be the time you might want to take to get a little of that extra testosterone in you out, but the key term here, gentlemen, is quietly. So with that being said, reflection! Johnson yelled.

The residents all entered their rooms and shut their doors.

CHAPTER 2

Another double, hon? Mrs. Johnson asked while rubbing her husband’s back. Johnson let out an exhausted sigh. Uh, yup. I got a new group of knuckleheads in today, so they wanted to make sure I was there to show the new guy how things go. Of course, one had to show his toughness out the gate, and Eddy made quite an example out of him.

Sooner or later, that temper is going to get Eddy into big trouble, Mrs. Johnson said.

We all got our own strategies, honey. His just happens to be more Hitler-like. Mrs. Johnson chuckled, cutting him off playfully. "I was going to go with firm, but OK, fair enough."

Speaking of knuckleheads, where is my knucklehead son? Johnson asked. Kareem! I know you’re upstairs. Kareem!

Honey, he’s still out, Mrs. Johnson replied.

"What do you mean, he’s still out? It’s midnight. I swear that boy does nothing but test my nerves. Sixteen years old, and he thinks he’s a man now. Comes and goes as he pleases. Well, I’ll catch up with him as soon as I catch up on some Zs. Got to be at the Temple bright and early," Johnson said, preparing for the shower.

OK, I got your lunch ready for you; it’s in the fridge. But before you go off to bed, I wanted to let you know that the car insurance and the mortgage are due at the end of this week, Mrs. Johnson said reluctantly.

Yes, yes. I know. I’m not over here looking like a zombie for no reason, dear. Okay, well, I’m just letting you know. And remember that the car insurance went up, so it’s $230 now, not $180.

Yeah, yeah. It always goes up, Johnson said underneath his breath. Well, I’m getting in the shower, and I’ll meet you in bed.

OK, Mrs. Johnson said with a sense of relief.

After a few minutes, a door slammed downstairs, echoing throughout the house. Honey, what was that? Johnson said from the shower. Babe?

It’s me, Kareem! the teen called out. No need to be on alert, Johnson. Johnson yelled over the water and through the door, Boy, what are you doing slamming doors at one o’clock in the morning?

Whatever, Kareem said to himself, closing and locking his bedroom door, which was located at the top of the steps, to the left of the bathroom.

Boy, you’re lucky I have only a few hours left before I’ve got to be back to work! Johnson finished up his shower and returned to the bedroom. He sat next to Mrs. Johnson and started passionately rubbing her back. Babe? Johnson whispered. You asleep?

Hmm … Mrs. Johnson whined, clearly out of it and headed toward a deep sleep.

Johnson looked over at the clock, which read 1:30 a.m. He let out a big, disappointed sigh. Well, there’s that idea, he said to himself, putting on his nightclothes.

CHAPTER 3

Gentlemen! Johnson yelled out to the unit. The time is now seven thirty. You have a half hour to get up, get your rooms together, and do your hygiene. For some of you, this will be a first. Either way, you need to be up and presentable within the next half hour.

Resident Williams yelled, You got too much energy, and it’s dumb early!

Well, Williams, besides the fact that your mom makes a strong cup of coffee in the morning, some of us like to get paid, Mr. Johnson replied.

Random chuckles spread throughout the unit.

But I tell you what, Williams, Johnson added. Because you like to talk out of turn, you have just become the unit rep.

Williams peeked his chubby face out of his room. What’s that?

Johnson smirked and replied, I’ll break it down to you later. Right now, you should be working on your room. No more talking.

Colombo joined Johnson, who was now sitting at the staff table. Colombo scrunched his face and quietly asked Johnson, Unit rep?

Johnson leaned over and explained, OK, so each unit is to designate one youth to be the unit rep. The basic idea behind that is the youth chosen is supposed to speak on behalf of the behaviors and concerns of his peers. If a fight breaks out, it’s now his job to write and present why this happened, what should have happened, and what could have happened. Most of the time I use it as a tool to keep the unit calm or quiet while the resident speaks, because you know what comes right after a unit rep presents, Colombo?

Johnson kicked up his feet on the staff table. Colombo paused for a second, taking notice of Johnson’s relaxed body language. Reflection? Colombo replied. Johnson lifted his eyes in pure enjoyment. You got it! he said, An easy hour, hour-and-a-half time burner. Now, staff will go around and check rooms to make sure they’re up to standards. Then we move out.

Colombo nodded, Oh, OK, so let’s make sure I got this. Wake-up is 7:30 to 8. From there, move to breakfast at 8:15 to 8:45. From there, back on the unit, bathroom call, and then rooms until main floor time?

You got it.

Johnson! Staffer Wellz called out from in front of Resident Trayer’s room. Come take a look at this, he said while looking through the little Plexiglass window, known on the unit as the Square. Trayer was sitting on the edge of his bed, still in his nightclothes. Wellz opened the door and shouted, Trayer, did you hear Mr. Johnson speaking to the unit? You should have your room together by now.

Trayer put his head down, clenched his teeth, and replied to staff Wellz, I told y’all, that’s not my name.

Mr. Johnson arrived at Trayer’s door. What’s the matter with you, son? Did you and Mr. Grumpson not bond enough yesterday? he asked sarcastically.

Fuck you! Trayer said, lying down suddenly and putting