The judgement day.

20^th 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.

16^th 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.

20^th  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!" 

This post is written for Indifiction workshop. This awesome plot was given by Sandeep Nair. Check out here for reading the comments by the judges