20th January, 1989
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 prison”
used to scare even the most nefarious of the hooligans as it was the inferno
for criminals & especially for the
likes of murderer like him, Bruce Barkley. The name sounded weird in his own
head, as over the jaded years it was
reduced to a number -367.
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’ boot around his leg. But at least Chris has ennobled
him by not chaining his hands, now that would be downright insulting after his
years of good behavior. It had been a whole week since he saw the daylight. He
saw several similar dirty blue overalls with different faces attached to each
of them. He recognized a few, the bear , silent Joe, mopping the ground and
then his eyes rested on Billy and his boys. He winced as Billy raised his cap
and threw him a crooked smile. He couldn’t forget his first real encounter with
Billy.
16th December, 1969.
“ 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 for some sinister
deed.
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.
20th january,
1989.
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
penitentiary, perdition.
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!"
