Author: Ratika Chauhan
Author
Introduction: About the author-Facts are always stranger than
fiction,I say.Hello to the fellow bloggers,I am new to the blog world,but not
to writing,I write at Asteria's canvass and this is my effort to
improvise upon my writing.Hope its worth spending your time.
Story:
The jaundiced moon was swimming in inky rift of clouds. The moon has been his
only true companion for last few years, only because it was the only natural
object visible from his cell situated at the east end of Oregon prison. “Oregon
Was there really a green smoky trail from moon or he was hallucinating again.
The hallucinations began few months ago along with incessant bouts of
chest infection, blinding headaches, prolonged fever. The prison doctor
said something about a newly discovered virus, HIV or something like that.
The ghost of a blanket was doing nothing to alleviate the shivers, the icy
steel bars were adding to the gloom hidden in the dark dungeons of his heart or
what was left of it. Well that would get over within 48 hours. Lt. Bruce
Barkley ,a decorated soldier will be hanged till death for murdering his
girlfriend Kerry in cold blood.
The Indictment will be sloughed off or may be it would accompany
him to hell. Ahh Kerry ! the sanguine angel, his angel. His buddies used
to mock at him for falling head over heels in love with a prostitute. He
always got involved in some or the other fracas over Kerry. Why was everything
so vivid, as if it had happened yesterday. Was it the fear of dying?? No, he
died 20 years ago when he found his Kerry drowned in her own blood.
Was it the sun coming up or may be he was delusional. But then he heard
the familiar sound of footsteps on the gravel outside his cell. “Bruce !
time to meet the father.” , barked Chris the guard who had somehow developed a
soft corner for him over twenty years.
“Aren’t you guys religious ?
making a dead man talk to the priest.” He chuckled. The despondent look on
Chris’s face said it all. At least someone will mourn his death over the years.
He replayed the scene again and again in his mind but sometimes had
trouble remembering the exact sequence of Kerry’s death.
He realized he was being led to
the distant part of the prison, a dark damp corner resembling an alcove where
the priest used to listen to the confessions of the criminal. He was scuffing
due to the cast iron ‘oregon
“ Next ! Bruce Barkley.“ He deposited his watch, his coat and other
knick-knacks in his pocket and collected what looked like a sweepers attire,
dull and worn out by use, two blankets, a tin mug and a tin plate.
“if you lose it, you wont get another, so hold on to them like your dear life”,
shouted the mean looking guard with Lincoln beard. There were fifteen of them,
the new gaol birds as they were known. All shipped to the Oregon
After a brief harangue by the
warden aka the shark regarding the dos and donts of the prison, they were
shoved in their respective cells. He noticed his cell already had an
inhabitant, a mousy,tall,melancholy young guy called Slimey as told by the
guard. Half way through his stuffy cell he was expecting Slimey to spring out
of his cot offering him a hand shake and a proper intro. Rather he got a brief
harrumphing and this small prologue.
“Dud!! Listen to me for once and
for all. If ya bother me a bit I’ll pull your guts out and shove them up your
arse so high, you wont know what hit ya.”
So much so for the courtesy!!
His next few days passed in a
blur. He was getting accustomed to the tepid chewy chunks they called food, to
the common urinals filled with stench so disgusting it made 1000 dead pigs
smell like flowers. He was also getting used to being sneered at, thrown stones
at, and more so to Billy the brawler’s several attempts to pick a fight with
him. Billy was a hulk of a person, a redneck with a scary scar running
all the way down his right cheek. The other prisoners warned him to stay clear
of Billy and his boys, the gay boxer who made other prisoners crap in their
pants. But his army background made him over confident and all the warnings
fell on his deaf ears. Until that day while he was enjoying the weekly communal
shower when a sliver of a soap hit his feet and the person next to him shouted
above the noise of running water,
“Heya mate!pass the soap, will
ya?”. The moment he bent to pick up the soap , four hands grabbed him and held
him in the same position while he felt a hot rod like thing entering him
from behind. His gasping screams filled the steamy shower area, tears of pain,
anguish, guilt, rolled into one dropped on his cheeks. After several assaults
he heard the familiar baritone voice of his cellmate Slimey,
“Billy boy, if you hurt that lad
any more, I swear on your fucking mother I would butcher your dick!”
The bastards left him and he
slumped on the wet floor like a discarded bath robe bawling like a baby. Slimey
was his care taker for the next few days, and he could not thank him less.
A violent bout of cough jolted
Bruce out of his flashback and he spitted blood mixed phlegm on the gravel.
Over the years and many fights (with Slimey’s help ) he had made clear it
to Billy that this was not his play ground any more and if he tried any funny
tricks he would have Bruce bearing down upon him.
Finally the confession room
loomed in view and he had to duck his head to save it from bumping.
A priest with a rosary and a
Bible was waiting for him along with an unfamiliar guard. His hands were cuffed
again as he was left alone with the frail, old priest. He chuckled in his head
, they still think of him as an axe-murderer even when his flesh hung loose on
his bones owing to that flowery disease AIDS.
The priest or father John as he
introduced himself seemed to step straight out of some Shakespeare’s play,
dressed in a purple robe, a cross bearing chain, a rosary in his hand and
a Bible in other. His mellifluous voice gave some warmth to that dingy hole
they were cramped in. His eyes were translucent grey, from original blue due to
his old age. He seemed kind.
“My son , How are you?”, well it
was ages someone called him son. “Do you regret that you committed a sin
against the holy father.”
“Father ! I didn’t do it..”, his
own voice sounding hollow to him and he couldn’t discern from the priest’s
expressions whether that old man believed him or not. Suddenly a strange,
strong urge rising all the way from his guts shot through his nostrils to his
mind to tell this old man his story or tragedy as he thought about it.
His mind was reeling through
several sepia-toned moments and it finally rested on the victory parade,
comprising of cheerful soldiers, of several happy faces high with the power,
rejoicing that their army had defeated the enemy causing them to stagger back
in their own territory and offering a peace-treaty. The streets were bustling
with the bands, incessant chatter, and the hoorahs of the proud crowd. The dark
grey roads were laced with colorful confetti. Men were hurling their caps in
air and women were throwing kisses in their direction. Bruce was moving in the
parade with his mates slapping each others back jocularly when his eyes met the
angel’s. That was the first word in his mind when he saw Kerry, dark brown
curly hairs falling on her shoulders, brown eyes sparkling with joy and her
white fleece flapping in air as she bounced up and down waving the paper flag
in air. Bruce was in love, the heady kind, the kind that didn’t let you sleep,
the kind that burnished and tormented your heart until it got whom it wanted.
Bruce wanted to tear away himself from the striding army but he was a tad too
late, he lost her amidst the mad crowd. He was in a love-torn state so much so
that even his mates were scared of his mood flings. He tried searching her
but in vain , she was the proverbial needle in haystack.
One fateful night while he was
sipping on his bourbon in MC’farland’s pub, a bit shady for his taste but also
the kind where no one would bother him even if he sat alone. He was
already down his third drink when he heard the twinkling laughter.
“You did’nt!! Did ya?”
“Of course sugah I did, I
imagined that fat SOB was my Ronnie and went all the way down on him.”
“You bitch!! You must be loaded
right now.”
He whirled his high chair only to
find himself staring in the same face that had haunted his sleepless nights for
weeks. Persuading her to accompany him for the night was easy as she was a
hooker and agreed to spend the night for a hefty sum of money. He took
her to the candy beach where he told her about his fascination and
love for her. She laughed and laughed hysterically uttering “You mad dawg!!”
till she had tears in her eyes. She said she had heard the very same punch line
over a gazillion times in her line of work. But never the less agreed to meet
him in MC’ farlands pub the next day.
Over the next few weeks, though
she was convinced about his feelings for her she could not shake away the fear
of her boss or “the pricking bastard” as she called Jerry, her so called
master. She poured her heart to him while they lay in sand, telling him about
her migrant parents who had traded her in exchange of a meager sum of money.
About Jerry, her boss who took her and the other girls under his wing,
providing them with basic amenities of life in exchange for prostitution. Did
she like it? Not for an iota of a moment but Jerry kept his girls well fed and
well provided for but he had his ‘boys’ to keep an eye on them if they ever got
loose.
Bruce was determined to get Kerry in his life. He had a plan which was about to
roughen his smooth-seamed existence only if fate would help him. His mates
tried talking some sense in him as Jerry was something of a local Mafia. Even
his dad refused to be a part of this mayhem.
Bruce got himself two tickets of the ferry that would ship both of them away
from Jerry’s claws. He registered with the court for his marriage certificate.
Heck, he even got himself an expensive tux and a pretty white gown for Kerry.
But he was oblivious of the guy in dark blue suit with a cigar who was
following him while he was prepping for marital bliss.
He had asked Kerry to meet him behind the dockyard in case Jerrys goons were
following her, but on reaching the docks a scene so brutal hit his brains, he
was unable to react. His angel Kerry was slumped against a cargo covered in her
own blood & an axe stuck to her right side at a weird angle, she was
clutching at straws in an attempt to breathe & her body was shuddering due
to shock. Her blood soaked hand was beckoning him to come to her.
She was dying in his arms, sobbing apologizing for not making it to the wedding
telling him that she loved him & that Jerry found out about their
rendezvous. It was ironical, the fact that the moment at which Kerry died
several guns were pointed at him telling him he had a right to remain silent,
he was dazed, his pupils wide with shock as he was handcuffed by the police. He
saw the sheriff talking to Jerry in the corner of the dockyard, accepting a brown
envelope he saw his Kerry , dead Kerry being lifted on a stretcher, but his
mind was buzzing with static.
The story which adorned the next
days newspaper was a bold one. “Army veteran axes his hooker
girlfriend in rage. ”
The coroner believed the ratty lawyer & the evidences which projected the
story in a twisted way, that he founded Kerry cheating on him & murdered in
cold blood with an axe. His fingerprints (which were there in an attempt
to remove it from Kerry’s body), his past record of hitting his own friends in
rage, & 2 false witnesses (bought by Jerry’s filthy money) did nothing to
save him, his silence adding to the confirmation.
Everything went in slow motion as the coroner declared him guilty & gave
him 20 years of rigorous punishment followed by an execution. He was
transferred to the Oregon
Father John was dabbing his eyes when he was exhausted narrating the tragic
events of his life. He touched his head with the cross in his neck and told him
that he will pray for him. He was also kind enough to ask him what his last
wish was. Father john left him alone in that abysmal shit hole with his
thoughts. No sooner did the old priest left him when he heard voices infiltrating
the monolith. May be he was hallucinating again, coz as far as he knew this
part of the prison was seldom used to contain prisoners. But then the voices
took faces as he recognized Billy’s gruff voice discussing something about
escaping, the words came in broken monosyllables …hidden…tunnel….sever line…early
morning….no one would know…long gone… His
mind did a double take & he realized they had found some hidden tunnel
& were planning the great escape.
“Bruce ! come out, time to go back.” Called the guard. He was recalling the
voices he just heard. While he was taken to his cell, a manic monologue ensued
in his mind.
Over the few years Billy tried to
make peace with him at several occasions. Billy helped Bruce indirectly to gain
undeclared power over cell mates. Bruce was often baffled by Billy’s sudden
flip of character. He was instrumental in pushing the warden to bring a
physician when Bruce fell ill..But he never forgot what Billy did to him in
showers. It was after months of counseling by Slimey when he gained his
self-respect back.
It was a matter of few hours
before he would get hanged till death, and even lesser hours for Billy to flee
away. The path to his cell seemed never-ending, he was having a serious pain in
his chest emanating due to anxiety as he had tumbled upon the plans of escape.
The voices were loud and clear in his head and from whatever he heard it seemed
a foolproof plan. But it was Billy, the jerk who made a joke of Billy being a
soldier by butt-raping him, the bastard who made bile in his stomach
regurgitate to his mouth everytime Bruce encountered Billy. He could not let
Billy run amok while he suffered such a drastic fate despite being innocent. He
could easily blow off the whistles on Billy’s plan while he had nothing to
lose. He would tell Chris about Billy’s secret tunnel running behind the
sewerage or he could even see the warden, the shark.
He had made his decision while he
reached his cell, he would expose Billy, when out of the blues a conversation
from past flashed in his mind. It was few years ago when they both were locked
in ‘the dungeon’ for outrageous behavior. Bruce was in a mental agony as his
one and only confidante Slimey had succumbed to TB. Bruce had beat up every
alternate prison he laid his eyes on. While Billy was locked in the dungeon for
similar deed. ‘The dungeon’ was a special treatment cell located in the
deepest, darkest part of the prison where even Sun was scared to show up and
they had to sit in their own piss and shit for one full week if the warden
found your crime unforgivable. Billy kept apologizing for his act and explained
why he did what he did, not that his apology dulled the pain. Billy was a boxer
in the south end of the town and a good one at that. He had a happy family, his
mom, god-fearing dad and a little sister Jewel. He was the favourite boxer of
the town and people bet their asses on his win. Billy was entering a special
fight against an ex-army heavyweight. Just before the fight he was offered
money to throw the fight, which he haughtily reused. Billy won the fight hands
down but when he reached his home after celebrating his victory he found his
parents’ throat slit open in a grisly manner and his kid sister fucked to the
point of her death. The army heavyweight had taken out his frustration on his
family, but was acquitted due to lack of evidence. Billy had killed him with
his bare hands and he was serving for the same. Since then Billy had a grudge
against anything resembling army. Bruce was not listening but his sub-conscious
mind had registered these facts. When Billy found out his story he had felt
sympathy for the soldier and he also said something like, “If you ever need
Billy, Billy wont back down, ever!”
Bruce was getting pulled in two
directions, and an idea was gestating in his head. If he exposes Billy he would
avenge the shame inflicted on him by Billy but if he escapes along with Billy
he could avenge his Kerry’s murder, with Billy’s help.
He was hallucinating again, he
saw himself making love to Kerry on the candy beach, Kerry kissing him in
the castledown fair. May be it was time for Kerry’s soul to be unchained.
It was Jerry’s time to pay for
what he did.
Bruce Barkley was a renewed man,
it was time to break the chains.
“Chris! My last wish is to spend
my last night with Billy and other cellmates!”
