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ShamedThis story may contain adult content. |
| Written by sweetsmaybrey | |
| Monday, 19 May 2008 | |
SHAMED
Derrick Miller sat in his minivan in the upper parking lot of Gander Hill Prison. From the lot he could look down onto the entire prison complex. He had a loaded 9mm handgun in his lap, the safety off. The prison drove its daily allotment of released prisoners to this parking lot in a school bus. The bus had taken off from the prison seconds ago and Derrick watched as it slowly transited the one-mile path to the upper lot. There is a man on the bus who Derrick intends to kill - the man who had taken away his self respect. The man's name is Randall Love and today is the day he will die.
People don't understand everything that goes into maintaining a prison. The most important element, after the obvious intimidating and restraining tools such as shotguns, handcuffs, and steel bars, is communication. At Gander Hill Prison, Derrick had served as the local phone company's primary technician. Everything works through the company's facilities, from Internet connections to radios. He was proud of his job - they don't let just anybody serve the role- the person has to be an excellent technician, honest and trustworthy. There he was, walking past guards every day with a tool belt full of potential weapons - screwdrivers, Maglites, pliers and cutters. Never did he have an incident until that day. The guard who usually shadowed him as he went about his work, Ernie Fellows, got an emergency call on his squawk box. Derrick wasn't bothered as he was on friendly terms with most of the prisoners and he had never had a problem, even when left alone. Besides, Ernie said he would be gone "just a second." Derrick stayed in the telephone room, trying to figure out where the crosstalk was coming from on one of the prison's main administrative lines. He had just identified the problem when a prisoner walked in the room and closed the door. Derrick wasn't worried - the man's face was familiar, he was among those who greeted him and Ernie daily as they made their way to the telephone room. Didn't Ernie call him Randall? "Y'all probably shouldn't be here," Derrick said. His eyes stayed on the Telco network interface, the source of trouble. "I know," the man said. "I was just wondering if you could show me what you do. I'd like to get a job with the phone company when I get out. And I'm outta here soon." Fat chance, Derrick thought. The Company doesn't hire any felons. Derrick waved the lanky man over. He sheepishly moved closer. "Randall Love," the man said. Derrick extended his hand and they shook. "See here," Derrick said, pointing with his wire crimper. "Here's where I have a problem." The man moved closer. Derrick could feel the man's breath on his neck. "Let me see that," Love said. He took the crimper from Derrick's hand and tossed it away. Derrick half faced the man. "Why'd you do that?" he asked. "Quiet, man," Love said with a soft menace. "Turn around." Derrick did as told. "Ernie's going to be back any minute," Derrick said softly. "No he ain't. They be a big brawl on the yard. I know for a fact somebody just done got shanked." Derrick felt the tool belt being unbuckled from his waist. It soon dropped to the ground. Love kicked the heavy belt aside. "Go ahead, take it, man. I won't tell nobody." "'Course you won't," Love whispered in his ear. The man put his hands on Derrick's shoulder and pushed him roughly into the wall. "You know what I want and it ain't no tools." Derrick, dazed and panicked, felt his pants being unbuckled. "Hey!" he said. He kept saying that single word as his pants fell around his ankle. His underwear was roughly pulled down and he felt the searing pain of Love's penis entering his body. He started crying while Love did it. Love finally ejaculated and Derrick crumpled onto the cold concrete floor. "See you around phone man," Love said with a wide grin. Derrick nodded and the man left.
Ernie returned minutes later but Derrick had dressed and was busy collecting his tools. "Sorry," Ernie said, "we had a problem out in the yard." Derrick nodded his understanding, not willing to say anything lest a scream escaped before the words. "Looks like you're all done," Ernie said. Derrick nodded again and the men left the room. Adrenaline rush subsiding from the near riot in the yard, Ernie didn't notice the sudden wrinkles in Derrick's clothes or the dried tears on his face. Derrick drove back to the garage and clocked out, keeping everything normal. He kept his mouth shut, uncertain of what to do. How would he tell anyone - the police, his boss, his family - that he had been raped? He drove home, the sound of his heart pounding the only noise in his vehicle. Five seconds inside his house he knew that his son and wife, without him saying a word, were aware of the change in him. He looked into their faces and saw their shame, their knowledge that he was now less than a man, a poor excuse for a husband and father. He showered after work, his unusual routine. This one lasted longer than normal as he spent time shedding hidden tears under the running water while taking care to double scrub his soiled body. Emerging from the shower he decided that he would not, and could not, tell the authorities but he would get back his manhood. He would get revenge on Randall Love.
The Company sent him back to the prison the next day. Why wouldn't they? To them, nothing had happened. Randall Love was among the prisons that greeted him and Ernie as they walked through Cell Block D, the one adjacent to the Telco room. Derrick waved back to the men, all of them, cheerful, as if nothing had happened. Love said that he was getting out soon. How soon? Derrick thought maybe he could ask Ernie but he knew that would raise suspicion. Ernie would ask how he even knew Love's last name. Maybe he could call the prison later, pretend to be family, and find out? Derrick worked steadily, but a little slower than usual. He was dragging so that he would be in the phone room as the prisoners made their outgoing calls. He wanted to listen to Love's conversations, find something that he could use. Randall Love didn't make a call that day or the next. On the third day following the attack, he did use some phone time. Derrick immediately recognized his smooth voice as he greeted a woman. Love's conversation immediately got raw, gutter level, telling her what he was going to do to her when he got out the following week. The woman - who had a girlish voice and slow, broken speech - laughed at everything that came out of the monster's mouth. Doesn't she know that he raped me? Derrick almost dropped his telephone test set as the woman handed her phone to a young male child. The boy sounded like he was barely school age. Love filled his head of how much he missed him and how, one week from today, he would return from his business trip. Business trip? Love ended the call and Derrick pulled away from the network interface panel. "Something wrong?" Ernie asked, eyes lifting from a sports magazine. "Nah," Derrick said, attempting to smile. "Man, you looked to be deep in concentration. If you were a con I'd say you was thinking on shanking somebody. I would have to put you in solitary." The two men laughed and exited the Telco room. Derrick went back to the garage. He contacted a friend in the company's call center who was able to pull a listing of all that day's outgoing calls made from the prisoners' phone bank. There were only a few calls made at the time Love called his family. A few clicks on his laptop later, Derrick had the address of Love's woman. Before leaving the garage Derrick asked his boss for the next day off. The following morning Derrick sat in his minivan a half block from the woman's address, a shabby row house in the ghetto. At nearly eight, a young woman emerged holding the hand of a child. Derrick slid down in his seat as they walked past. Watching them walk down the street through the side mirror he could see that the boy was neatly dressed and happy, one hand swinging his book bag as the other held tightly his mother's hand. Wasn't right that his son is happy while my boy is ashamed of his father. The pair was a block away when Derrick cranked the engine and drove off - his next destination was a gun shop he knew in New Castle.
The prison van pulled up. Randall Love was the second man off and he looked around the nearly empty parking lot. The other men quickly scattered, a few to joyous family, some to the bus stop across the street but the rest simply melted back into the streets. The prison bus, empty now except for two guards, revved its engine and took off back down the hill. Love, alone now, stood around looking, a worry line disfiguring his brow. He was expecting his family to show, not knowing that Derrick, representing himself as a member of prison administration, had told his woman that Love's release would be delayed due to botched paperwork. All that was left in the lot was he and Derrick, still seated in his minivan in the far end of the lot. Derrick dropped the gun into the side pocket of his cargo jeans and climbed out of the vehicle. Randall's smile was wide as he approached. "Phone man!" he shouted. His smile disappeared as Derrick pulled the gun from his jeans. He kept the gun pressed against his body, nearly invisible against the black pants. "What are you doing?" Love asked as he eyed the slate gray prison walls, ringed by barbwire. The prison seemed very far away. His eyes flicked from the prison to Derrick and back again. Could I signal someone? Can the guards up in the tower see us? "Taking you home," Derrick said. "What for? 'Cause of what happened?" Derrick nodded. Randall added the licking of his broad lips to the shifting eyes. Derrick held the weapon flat against his thigh and his eyes were steady on Love's face. "I know things got rough in there, phone man but...well, you know, that's how it be in prison." He shrugged. "Get in the van," Derrick said flatly. "What are you doing, Derrick?" "Get in the van or I shoot you right here." Love, calculating his chances of survival if he broke for the prison, decided to cooperate. He headed for the van. Love opened the passenger door. "No," Derrick said. He chin nodded to the drivers' side. "You're driving, Randall." Inside the vehicle, Derrick told Randall to start the engine and he did so. He then told Derrick their destination. "That's my girl's house," Love said. "No ****. Your woman. And your son." "What are you doing, Derrick?" "Just drive." He pressed the barrel of the gun hard into Randall's ribs. Love drove them to the row house. Led by Derrick's nine, the men entered the house. In the living room, on the dingy, used to be cream colored furniture sat Randall Love's girlfriend and son. The pair were bound and gagged. Their clothes were soiled from sweat, urine and excrement. Love's eyes widened. "I don't care what you do to me, let them go, man!" Love shouted. Tears ran down his face. "Not until you tell them what you did to me!" "What I did?" Derrick turned to the pair sitting wide-eyed on the couch. "This man raped me. He stuck his thing up my ass in the telephone room." The young boy's eyes moved from his father to Derrick and back again. Maybe now his son will feel the shame my son has felt since the rape. "But Derrick...you're the one who arranged for the emergency alarm to go off...you're the one who left me a message, third phone from the end...in the receiver," Love pleaded. "You arranged the whole thing. You said it was our first date." "Liar!" Derrick pointed the nine at Love's forehead. "Tell them that's a lie or I'll shoot." Randall Love shook his head. "I can't, Derrick. What we had was real. All the notes, the conversations, I felt it too. But that's all over now. I'm out of that place, back with my family. It's over, man." "So it is." Derrick pulled the trigger and the bullet blew off the back end of Randall Love's skull. His girlfriend and their son shrieked underneath the cloth wound tightly over their mouths as the body slowly hit the floor. Derrick coolly pocketed the gun and left the house. He got in his truck and drove away, headed home. He was going home to his son, head held high. His son would know the truth - his father was a man, one capable of defeating evil, one capable of righting a great wrong that was done to him by a person most depraved.
Copyright 2008 sweetsmaybrey |
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