Sometime around Winter, 1979

Dedicated to Sergeant Singh...and pot!

Singh Singh Revisited
The morning began routinely enough. We were rousted out of bed in the usual rude and loud manner. “BREAKFAST,” blared over the loudspeaker. They had made all meals mandatory at this new prison to keep better track of us. After a brisk walk in the cool morning mist to the dining room, then lining up for cold waffles over which butter refused to melt, we just drank coffee and went back to our house. By this time it had begun to rain, and Sergeant Singh was escorting us cattle-style, looking more and more like an enormous, floppy whale as the rain drenched her huge body. Suddenly, she snatched Michelle and me out of the line and whisked us off to the Security Control office, where she ordered us to sit quietly and wait. Mystified, we asked another officer what was going on, but he told us to sit, keep quiet, and wait until the “fat lady” came back.
When Sergeant Singh returned, she grabbed another officer and headed with him to our house, while Michelle and I, still groggy with sleep, trailed behind. She fumbled with the lock for several minutes when she reached our house, so we finally opened the door for her. Once inside, she made straight for the bathroom – focused, surefooted, and determined – to where a spider plant nurturing a baby pot plant in the same pot hung in stillness in front of the tiny window. She snatched the plant, declaring dramatically that she was confiscating it. Michelle and I had to bite our lips to keep from laughing out loud – all of this hysteria over a baby pot plant?
Sergeant Singh informed us she was writing us up, then commanded us to leave and get to work. The 115 would be processed and served later. After getting ready for work in our house, we returned to the Control office for passes to the recreation office. On this second trip to Control that morning, we discovered that the fat lady had been busy. There she sat at a desk, eating, looking very smug and satisfied. Surrounding her were six or seven other baby plants that had obviously been confiscated from various houses.
Immediately we saw how easy it would be to rescue the sprouts. Within an hour, a few of us managed to get all the baby shoots out of Control, back to our houses, and in water until we found their rightful owners; Sergeant Singh’s evidence for the 115’s was gone. When she found out, she looked like she was having a coronary malfunction, screaming at the two guards who let the plants slip right out from under them. How disappointing it must have been. All that great investigative police work for nothing.
With the evidence gone, we knew they had no reason to keep our spider plant, so we asked for it back. We were told they were keeping it for thirty days for observation. What? No way were they going to kill our plant! We waited until mail call, stole it back, and hid it in another room to ensure its safety from greasy, fat kidnappers. An hour later, Singh came running out of Control, screaming once again and demanding the plant back. We told her we had no idea what she was talking about, and if our plant was gone, it was her fault!