I had not planned to spend the night locked within the walls of a foreign prison. Even more unexpected was my host hurling a brick through the window.
Hours before my best friend and I had been hitchhiking through England. We were picked up by a lovely, salt of the earth English family. We squeezed into their car, already crammed full with people and camping gear. Their younger children wound up sitting on our laps. This does not normally occur when one is hitchhiking.
The girl seated on my lap (perhaps 4 years old) quietly repeated the last phrase of every conversation. I remarked about this, to which her father replied “Yeah, she’s odd like that. Repeats everything she hears like some damned parrot”.
“Like some damned parrot”, she repeated sweetly.
My friend and I had plans to find a park somewhere in which to roll out our sleeping bags. But the family insisted we spend the night at their place. The father noted that he was a warden at the notorious Wormwood Scrubs. Their house was actually located in the prison grounds. How could we say no?
As we pulled up to the old prison gates (pictured), the father exchanged pleasantries with the sentry. We drove through and parked in front of their row house. Only then did the warden realize he had left his house keys up at the camping site. In frustration he exclaimed, “We’re just going to have to break that son-of-a-bitch window in!”
“Son-of-a-bitch-window!” piped the young girl.
This he proceeded to do, pitching a brick through his front window and then sending one of his children in to open the door from inside. My friend and I helped the family unpack their car, clean up the glass, and tape plastic over the broken front window. The weary family retired upstairs. We unrolled our sleeping bags in their living room. The house grew quiet.
Moments later we heard the father’s heavy footsteps on the landing above us. A light went on. Peering down he asked us matter-of-factly, “You two aren’t a couple of pansy boys, are you? Just checking”.
We assured him we were not. Off went the light. He padded away.
From within the silent house came the voice of his parrot daughter speaking softly into the darkness: “Couple of pansy boys. Just checking”.
NB: Photo credit to Wikipedia
Got a good chuckle. Thanks!
So glad that the story didn’t end with you sharing your adventures to some locals the next day only to have them tell you that the prison had been abandoned for years ever since the family living their died mysteriously. “Died mysteriously!” Echoing in the distance.