Hallowed be thy Name

Author: The Fool

Author Introduction: I am yet another blogger off the block. When I am not blogging, I  toil at a management consultancy firm to earn my daily bread. Reading and travel are other things that compete for my time and money. My main interest in writing is of course fiction. But I also write poetry, reviews, satire, analysis, narrations of experiences at my blog Lucifer House Inc.

The Story:

1

I'm waiting in my cold cell, when the bell begins to chime. 

Reflecting on my past life and it doesn't have much time. 

'Cause at 5 o'clock they take me to the Gallows Pole, 

The sands of time for me are running low. 

It was 4.00 am. I was woken up by the distant strains of the ring tone of the guard’s mobile phone. I knew the Iron Maiden song. It felt as if it was written especially for me. At 5 o’clock indeed they were going to be taking me to the ‘Gallows Pole’. But the today is not the day. My sands of time are running low. My hourglass still holds two days of time. Thinking of it, I would do very well without those days as well. I would rather the torture ends this minute and my miserable life would finally be snuffed out.

When the priest comes to read me the last rites, 

I take a look through the bars at the last sights, 

Of a world that has gone very wrong for me. 

The world has gone wrong for me in every possible way I can think of. It all probably started  the moment I was born. A wrong that would be righted in two days’ time! Briefly it had seemed things would go right after all when Sonja came into my life. Even now the thought of Sonja brings a smile to my face. She was the sole oasis in my dreary existence. Those few days with Sonja had been like a dream. But it had not taken long for the dream to change into a nightmare.

Can it be that there's some sort of error? 

Hard to stop the surmounting terror. 

Is it really the end, not some crazy dream? 

Somebody please tell me that I'm dreaming,
It's not easy to stop from screaming,
But words escape me when I try to speak.

Tears fall but why am I crying? 

After all I'm not afraid of dying. 

Don't I believe that there never is an end? 

I wonder why I feel terror at the thought of death. Shouldn't it be bringing me joy? The final end to this miserable existence: a comedy of errors or should I call it a tragedy of errors? How many times have I hoped someone would tell me it was all an error; now everything would be all right! But that was not to be. No one told me my hospital report that showed me HIV positive was an error. No one told me the news of Sonja’s death was an error. No one told me my arrest for her murder was an error. It indeed does seem like a crazy dream from which I will wake up in two days.

As the guards march me out to the courtyard, 

Somebody cries from a cell "God be with you". 

If there's a God then why has he let me go? 

As I walk all my life drifts before me 

And though the end is near I'm not sorry 

Catch my soul 'cause it's willing to fly away 

Mark my words please believe my soul lives on 

Please don't worry now that I have gone 

I've gone beyond to see the truth 

When you know that your time is close at hand, 

Maybe then you'll begin to understand 

Life down here is just a strange illusion. 

I have loved. I have hated. I have desired. I have hoped. I have been angry. I have been frightened. Now I only feel numb. All other emotions appear to me meaningless now. Life has been systematically draining me of every emotion. Now I am just an empty shell without a soul. I feel a strange sense of calmness. The calmness of the cold rocks, standing lifelessly for eternity!

But then I wonder. Am I really at peace with myself? Or is even this calmness illusory? What is that strange terror that is lurking in the shadows of the calmness? Is there still some figment of a soul that is still trying to hang on valiantly, refusing to let go of this body when every connection has been mercilessly hacked away?

Yeah, yeah, yeah... Hallowed be Thy name 

Yeah, yeah, yeah... Hallowed be Thy name 

Yeah

2

My reverie ended as the morning bell rang. Guards were opening the cell doors and lining up the prisoners. Every day it had been the same schedule for the past six months. The shower and the breakfast, followed by work, then lunch, then work, an hour of recreation, dinner and off to bed. We were all lined up for the shower. As I entered the shower I ran into Billy. Billy surveyed me from head to foot with a smirk on his face.

Billy was one person who could still evoke some emotion in me. Every time I saw Billy, I was filled with repugnance and hatred. The day I entered prison, I was a complete wreck. Everything had been taken away from me. I had resigned myself to the fact that I had hit the nadir of my existence. I had nothing more to lose. Within a month of moving to the closed prison, Billy had proved me wrong.

Life is like a bottomless pit. As long as there is life, you can fall deeper and deeper. When I was diagnosed with AIDS, I thought I had hit the bottom. My days were numbered. But I still had 10 years of life and most importantly: love. My beautiful Sonja, the only person in this world who had truly loved me! But no! That was not to be. I was to see Sonja brutally murdered by that gang of rich perverts. To them a hooker was just a plaything, to be played with roughly, broken and thrown into the dustbin. When I saw her mutilated body, my heart wept tears of blood. I had lost my love. But I had found a purpose in life: revenge. But then the age of vendettas is long gone. We now live in a civilized world that has laws to protect the ones with enough money. Before the dust could settle on Sonja’s grave, I was scuttled off to prison on charges of Sonja’s murder. Skillful lawyers were hired, clues were planted, and witnesses were bought. In six months’ time, the verdict was out: guilty!

I had by then lost any hope of release or revenge. I only wanted to go through the motions and be done with it. So I had opted not even to go for an appeal. In spite of that I was to wait six months before the electric chair could finally end my suffering. Time enough for Billy to show me I still had something to lose: my masculinity!

Billy had already been there for some time when I was moved to closed security prison. He had been on death row for more than three years. He was a former boxer who had found more lucrative use than the boxing ring for his fighting skills. Even at the highest levels, revenues from boxing could never match those from bank robbing. And the risks were more or less the same. So he had assembled a gang and managed to successfully execute five bank robberies. But then the law of averages had caught up with him and his last attempt had been foiled. Billy had made a desperate attempt to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. He was a fighter to the last. But his attempts had only resulted in death of three guards that had landed him on death row. But he was still not the one to give up so easily and was determined to make use of all privileges the US legal system offered him. For three years his case had been moving from court to court, prolonging his fateful rendezvous with the electric chair.

While he was in prison, he chose to make the best of it. His leadership skills had come to fore and he had quickly established himself as a gang leader within the prison. Other than his leadership skills, it was rumored that his gains from the earlier robberies were quite a treasure trove and he had it all stashed somewhere. The rumors, other than helping him build a clout with the prisoners, had managed to endear him to some of the prison guards as well which ensured he was kept well supplied with tobacco, alcohol, movies and whatever else he needed. Possibly some of the guards hoped that the information they could not glean through force in their official capacity, they might be able to obtain through persuasion in personal capacity. The only thing he lacked probably was female company. But then even that was not really an issue for he preferred men.

And men were in much more plentiful supply in prison than in the outside world. For ever new prisoner was fair game. He had his eye on me from the day I entered closed security. When I spurned his advances, it had excited the fighter in him all the more. More than the mere sexual act, what excited him was the challenge. The fact that I towered a foot above him and weighed well over ten pounds more than him seemed to have turned him on. He had caught me unawares one day at the showers. He had jumped me along with three of his cronies and he had taken me from behind while they held me down.

I might have still made them fight hard for it. But my spirit was already dead. So I had not been much of a challenge. It was probably his disappointment at being cheated of a fair fight that made him more brutal then he normally would have been. After him, his cronies took me one after the other. I was bleeding badly when they were done and it took quite an effort to limp back to my cell afterwards. This had continued for the next two to three months almost every day. Those months were terrible. It was worse than anything I had ever been through before. It was as if I had lost my humanity and become a nonliving object. Not only was I cheated of death but my humanity was being sucked out of me and I was being subjected to fate worse than death. I was now experiencing what Sonja had experienced all her life and in death as well. In some ways it made me feel closer to her. I wondered how she had managed to maintain her sanity and be her sweet self in spite of being reviled all the time. I was just unable to take it. It had made me a zombie, a dead man without a soul, kept forcibly animated!

The past couple of months their interest in me had reduced considerably. The entire last month had gone peacefully for me without being molested even once. I often wondered at the reason for the same. It was quite an accident of fate that I found out what had been occupying their attention the last two months. But the knowledge of what was keeping them occupied strangely disconcerted me rather than bringing me relief at being spared the regular torture.

I made the discovery one day while I was passing by the prison library. We all had to perform various duties within the prison as part of our daily schedule. The most coveted duties were those at the library and at the kitchen. Unfortunate ones like me landed janitorial and laundry duties. The library duties were completely monopolized by Billy and his gang. This despite the fact that some of them were practically illiterate! But then Billy had a way with the prison officials. I of course stood no chance despite being the most educated of the lot. So I was content if I got general cleaning of the facilities or laundry. Latrine duties were the worst. Latrines can be pretty bad even in decent communities. One can imagine how latrines used by vermin such as those housed here would be.

That day I had the duty to sweep and swab the entire prison facilities and I happened to be sweeping outside the library when I heard strange noises inside the library. It was as if someone was digging. I got curious and peeped in through the key hole. And the sight that greeted me - Billy and his men had pulled up the carpet on the floor and were digging vigorously. I wondered what they were up to. Then it stuck me. A prison break!

They were trying to tunnel their way out. Soon these monsters would be free men whereas I who had been brutally abused by them would die a disgraceful death in the next few days. My first thoughts were to alert the prison authorities. But then, on second thoughts, what purpose would that serve? Would that heal my scars? Would that make me whole again? Would that change anything for me? I just had another three days for my much awaited death. Nowadays they had started leaving me alone. If they escaped, so be it. After all wouldn't I also get my release in my own way very soon? However some portion of my spirit hidden in a remote corner of my existence seemed to have taken this opportunity to emerge from its hideout to protest strongly against the unfairness of it all. I was in dilemma what to do. A decision had to be taken. I could not remember when was the last time I had a decision to make in my life. Life always decided things for me.

3

Today I had laundry duty. That was the best I could get. Thank God for these small mercies, considering one such entity existed. My harrowing experiences had made me seriously doubt the existence of such an entity. However that did not deter me from attending religious service at the prison. Religion was one of the very few things I had got from my parents. Religion was possibly one of the things life had considered too trivial to snatch away from me. Sometimes I felt like a martyr saint and it made me feel good. But only difference was they had taken on suffering willingly whereas my suffering was forced upon me.

Laundry mostly consisted of prison clothes. But now and then there was an odd prison guard’s uniform thrown in as well when a parsimonious guard wanted to save up on his laundry allowance. Today was one such day. Something told me the uniform might come in handy though I had no idea for what. I folded it and tucked it inside my shirt and put the rest for washing. Of course I would receive a hiding from the guard when the uniform was discovered missing the next day. But I was far beyond bothering about such trivialities.

Lunch was uneventful. There was the usual vegetable clear soup, the hard breads, a bowl of vegetables and some fruits. Meat was usually a weekend specialty. After lunch, it was back to work. After a couple of hours of work, we had our hour of free time. Some people chose to spend the time reading in the library. Others liked the television room. I preferred religious service.

Service usually consisted of the priest reading out a few lines from the bible and the confession. In my case usually it was more of bible reading. I liked listening to the word of the Lord. It was my only solace during the time of distress. I usually did not have much to confess however, much to the surprise of the priest. What sins would a dog or a cow have on its conscience? That was the kind of life I had been leading. I had never taken any initiative on my own, had always let life take its own course! This is where it had led me. Possibly doing drugs and visiting whorehouses were the two sins I had committed. But that was long behind me. I had never felt the need for another woman after I met Sonja. And she had made me go through  de-addiction to kick off the drug habit. I already had my punishment for these two sins: AIDS.

Today the priest read out to me the parable of the master who before going on a long journey gave five talents each to his two servants for safekeeping. One of them just buried the five talents and forgot about them. The other servant invested the money in a business venture and carried out a successful business multiplying the wealth many times. The master came back after a year or so. The first servant proudly dug out the five talents he had been given and proudly displayed them to his master. The other servant on the other hand had multiplied the five talents and had hundred talents to give to his master. The master was very pleased with the second servant. He chided the first servant for letting his talents lie hidden and idle and hence go waste.

The priest then went on to explain the essence of the story. We humans are born with many gifts given to us by God. Some of us use them wisely and multiply them like the second servant while others like the first servant let them go waste. I felt as if today’s parable was a message to me directly from God. I wanted to confess today. I told the priest how I had frittered away all the gifts God had given me. I had been endowed with a strong physique, a nimble brain and a decent education. Still I had not used them wisely and allowed myself to come to such a situation as I found myself now. I blamed fate and God for my misfortunes. In reality it was my fault that I had not taken my life in hand and led it where I wanted it to go. I promised God that I would make a conscious effort to make best use of what little time remained for me.

The day was coming to a close. In prisons the day ended pretty early. Soon it was dinner time. Dinner was for half an hour from five to half past five. I unconsciously took a seat next to Billy. Billy gave a surprised look. I usually tried to keep as much distance from him as possible. He made some lewd remark to me. I just ignored him and focused on the bowl of soup. Then suddenly my hand swept around and upset both our plates. Soup, fruits and vegetables had spilled all over us and we were in a terrible mess. Billy hurled a curse at me and headed to the wash room to clean up. I followed after him.

As soon as I reached the washroom, I knew what I had to do. I gently rapped Billy on his shoulder. As he rose I viciously swung the plate I had carried with me and slammed it on to his face. It hit him square on his nose and a few drops of blood could be seen. Before he could recover I swung the plate at him a second time, this time finding his head. Though he was a professionally trained fighter, I had the advantage of surprise on my side. Before he could recover, I swung up my knee and connected with his belly. As he clutched his belly and doubled up in pain, I reached out and caught his crotch in a firm grip.

He squealed as I tightened the fingers around his balls. It felt good! Really good!

“Well Billy. I heard you are planning a jail break,” I said in a careless nonchalant tone. I have heard it said bullies are often cowards. I was now discovering the truth of this saying first hand. I had the whole plan and also a solemn promise from Billy that I could also escape with them. I was enjoying such power for the first time. And the high I was getting was more addictive than LSD. I did not feel like letting go of it so fast. So I decided to push a bit further while I still held him by his balls. I tightened my hold and twisted his balls.

Billy winced in pain and looked at me pleadingly. The pain must have been so extreme that his voice refused to come out.
“Now, Billy. Tell me where you have stashed your loot. And no funny business please,” I said as I relaxed my hold a bit to allow him to speak.

He must have seen the fire in my eyes and the menace in my tone and realized I would not hesitate even to kill him. So without much trouble I had the location of the loot as well. Now I had to let him go. It was already fifteen minutes and people would be finishing their lunch. If I held him any longer, the guards would be coming to investigate.

I let him go with a final warning, “If you squeal to the guards, you know I too can squeal. And don’t you dare go back on your promise to me.”

He covered his bleeding nose with a kerchief and proceeded to the dining area. He clearly wanted no trouble with just a matter of hours to go before his planned escape time.

4

After dinner I was back in my cell. Sometimes they say fortune favors the bold. And after a life of bad luck it seemed as if lady luck was finally smiling upon me. I had just made a decision, probably for the first in my life. I now got about executing it without an inkling of a plan. I was just keeping my faith in the Lord and improvising along the way. Things had worked handsomely so far.

I walked up to a crack in the wall where I had hidden one of my most precious possessions. It had been precious for sentimental reasons till yesterday. It was a gift from my last friend Samuel. We had shared a cell  when I was an under trial. Samuel was a house breaker by profession and he was an expert at his trade. He had considered himself an artist and took pride in his art. He had managed to smuggle a lock pick into the prison and he used to teach me to pick locks during our free time. He had been so impressed at my progress that he had gifted me the lock pick at the time of his release. For me it was more a keepsake in the memory of my friend and I had managed to bring it with me to the high security area in a way I care not mention. Now this lock pick was going to be my savior.

I quietly worked on the cell lock and my success was announced by a clicking sound and prison door swung open. There were no guards around. I quickly changed into the guard uniform I had pilfered from the laundry and walked solemnly towards the library hoping no one would stop me. Luck continued to favor me and I reached the library without any incident. Once again the lock pick was put to work and I was inside the library. I rolled up the carpet and the gateway to my freedom awaited me.

In half an hour’s time, I was in the open air for the first time in six months. I was free at last. For the first time in my life, I felt really free – to take my destiny into my own hands. It was an exhilarating feeling.

I would now make best use of this opportunity God has given me. God has parted the prison walls to let me pass through like he parted the Red Sea for Moses. God has taken away the wealth from evil Billy and given it to me like he had taken away the Holy Kingdom from the evil Saul and given to David. Billy would never enjoy his ill begotten wealth. In a couple of hours, they would find out that I was gone during the end of the day prison head counting. The tunnel in the library would be discovered when they searched for me. Billy's escape attempt would be foiled at the last minute and his escape route would be sealed for good. It would be long before he came up with another. He would rot in jail while I would carry out the work of God in my remaining years and redeem myself before the final Day of Judgment. I would be the Holy Crusader. I shall exterminate all vermin; breakers of faith; destroyers of humanity from the face of this earth. The murderers of poor Sonja shall be the first to face the wrath of God.