By the Stroke of Twelve
Tolover Perez was alone in the dark. Nothing but his thoughts, the shadows, and the eerie echoes of the darkened prison to keep him company. Perez sat stiffly on the edge of his cot, his hands rested tensely on his knees as he stared at the peeling pea green wall in front of him. He had no idea how long he had been sitting like that. His mind was fuzzy around the edges like he'd had too much to drink. All through the night he had been visited by the tormented souls of his victims. They'd all come to him ' the young blonde he'd loved whose heart he'd ripped from her chest; the old woman with all the cats whose house he'd burned down; the bald man whose head he'd scalped and left to bleed to death; and the freckled young boy he'd shot mistakenly yet mercilessly. They'd all come to taunt him, to haunt him in these, the last hours of his life. The visions had scared him tremendously and he'd been too terrified to close his eyes and envision the demons in his dreams again. In the end his terror had drained all sleepiness from his body and he'd sat up, dressed, and waited for morning to come. It would be the last morning he'd ever see because by the stroke of twelve that night he would be dead.
Slowly the prison around him began to come alive. Muffled groans of fleeting sleep began to float through the ward. Creaking springs reverberated off the cold metal bars as inmates rose from the bunks. The sharp, confident step of the guards sounded a warning of their inevitable arrival as they made the ritualistic morning rounds. Death Row was awakening.
Tolover Perez slowly became aware of a presence outside his claustrophobic cell. He turned and stared at the men standing uniformly outside. He knew why they were there. He'd seen the spectacle too many times to be so naïve. Yet he could still do nothing more than sit staring dumbly at them.
Joshua Gogh didn't mind his job. But the final day of an inmate always made him rethink his occupation. Today was no exception as he took out his giant key ring and, after searching for the right key, unlocked Perez's cell. On full alert the accompanying guards watched as Joshua stepped inside.
'Today's the day, Perez,' he said simply.
Perez stood and held out his arms, wrists close together. 'So it is,' he replied his voice dull, devoid of emotion.
Joshua handcuffed the prisoner and ushered him out into the corridor. Jaxson Gaetano nodded greeting to Perez then bent to shackle his ankles and bind them to the handcuffs. Jax was usually unmoved by inmates and his work. But there was something downright disturbing about being involved in a man's death that sometimes made Big Jax awaken in a cold sweat in the middle of the night. Grasping one elbow with Joshua on the other side, they made the familiar trek to the prep room.
Once inside, Arnold Chase cleaned his razor blade and began the last hair cut Tolover Perez would ever have. Perez cracked a weak smile. 'Just a little off the top, huh?'
Arnold Chase nodded. 'Sure thing, son.'
After a few minutes a now bald Perez dropped to his knees in front of Reverend Peter Paul and began repenting for his sins. The Reverend placed a hand on his open bible and recited in a quiet voice, ' . . . Pray for us sinners now and in the hour of our deaths . . .'
When he was done he asked the condemned man if he wanted one last confession. For several minutes Perez was silent. Raising his head, he looked at the robed man with empty eyes. 'Soon, all will be set right with God. Peace will come after the unrest and then all will be forgiven.'
The Reverend nodded, knowing deep down in his soul he would forever be haunted by that hollow voice, the dead eyes, and the haunting words of this man.
Tolover Perez requested nothing special for his last meal. And he was actually surprised when it was brought to him: A steak fit for a king with a baked potato smothered in sour cream and butter, a large piece of cornbread with jam, steaming coffee, and a piece of homemade apple pie topped with vanilla ice cream. Perez looked up at Joshua Gogh with questioning eyes.
Joshua shrugged. 'I figure a man should have at least one last home cooked meal before he goes.' Perez nodded and choked out thanks before digging into the food.
Eternity seemed to pass in the few short hours since the dinner dishes had been cleared and when Jaxson Gaetano came to his cell to announce it was time. Joshua unlocked the cell door and stepped inside repeating the events of earlier that morning. Shackled and chained, Tolover Perez walked between the two men to his inevitable fate, the good Reverend Peter Paul and several guards followed closely behind.
The corridor seemed miles long as Perez slowly made his way toward the pea green door at the end of the hall. Death lay at the other side of this door he knew. Tolover Perez was afraid of death. He was afraid to die because he had no idea what lay ahead for him on the other side. And the not knowing terrified him. It caused his breathing to become almost labored, caused his blood to rush through his veins so quickly it was almost painful, caused the beat of his heart to echo loudly inside his ears.
Sweat broke out in tiny beads above his top lip and on his forehead. His eyes became bloodshot ' they were wide with terror now. The tortured souls were back again. They lined the hallway; their arms outstretched reaching for him. Their fingers were curled into talons ready to sink into his flesh.
Perez wanted to stop, to turn and run screaming from the visions before him but his feet would not obey the urgent commands of his horror-numbed mind. Instead he turned to look over his shoulder at the Reverend. 'Pray for a miracle, father. Pray for a miracle cause where I'm going a miracle is the only thing that'll save me.'
Joshua Gogh and Jaxson Gaetano exchanged curious looks. Neither man was very religious but it was each of his experience that most Death Row inmates somehow knew something about what was going to happen to them when they passed over. And it usually happened just before they reached the pea green door. Usually it also meant that there would be crying and praying by the prisoner right up until the chair was lit.
Tolover Perez was no exception. As soon as the door was opened Perez began to say Hail Maries over and over until the words were no longer words but long chains of consonants and vowels. Tears trickled slowly from his dark eyes as he was pulled into the room. Perez's voice rose to a notch just short of hysterical as the deadly wooden chair loomed in front of him. Finally unable to hold back the tears, he fell silent great body wracking sobs making it difficult for his reciting to continue.
Jaxson Gaetano gently pushed Perez into the chair and began methodically strapping his torso and wrists to the chair. Joshua Gogh strapped his ankles to the legs of the chair and stood to begin placing the cap and hood over the sponge one of the other guards had placed wetly on his head. It was practically an unwritten rule for Death Row guards that one must never look into the eyes of a prisoner once he's in the chair. It was said that the condemned prisoner's fate in the afterlife could be seen in his eyes just before he died. Luckily for Joshua Perez had tightly squeezed his eyes shut while attempting to shut out his surroundings.
After placing the black hood over Perez's head he stepped back to his post on the right of the chair. His clear blue eyes went to the clock and patiently waited for the stroke of twelve. It seemed an eternity passed as the clock finally struck midnight. In a voice that was quiet but commanding he gave the first order. 'Roll on one.'
The lights in the cell ' as well as throughout the prison ' visibly dimmed. A loud humming noise came from the generator. Jax nodded to the priest who closed his bible from which he had been quietly reading and left the cell. Then turning his attention back to the prisoner he said, 'Tolover Perez, it is so ordered by a jury of your peers that electricity pass through your body until you are dead. Do you have any last words?'
When Perez said nothing but continued sobbing, Jax nodded to Joshua. Joshua took his cue and signaled to one of the guards. 'Roll on two.'
There was a loud heavy click as the switch was thrown. Suddenly Tolover Perez became very animated as ten thousand volts of electricity flowed through his body. His fingers curled and his nails dug into the wooded chair arms. Veins in his forearms, neck, and calves throbbed and pulsed visibly as he twisted and thrashed in his straps. A blood curdling, spine tingling shriek filled the room then died off. After a minute Joshua again signaled to the guard this time to cut the power. One of the guards ' a doctor ' appeared with a stethoscope and checked for a pulse. He stood, shook his head indicating that amazingly Perez was not dead. For the second time Joshua called for a roll on two. Electricity once again passed through Perez. His voice was strained, hoarse as another shriek burst from his lips. His body strained at the straps holding him securely in place. The smell of death began to permeate the air.
Tolover Perez stopped moving. The guard killed the strong current. If Joshua Gogh had been able to look into Perez's eyes as he was being strapped into the electric chair he would have seen the scene that began to take place as the guard announced Perez was dead. A dim light lit over his body and then his spirit stood up from his body. Curiously the specter stared at the body it just left. Brilliant light filled the doorway suddenly. The specter looked toward the light. There, huddled together in a small crowd were the tormented souls of Tolover Perez's victims. The spirit tried to scream and held its hands in front of itself to ward off the vengeful souls as they rushed toward it.
Unaware of what was happening on another plane, Joshua Gogh and Jaxson Gaetano began removing the straps that bound Perez's lifeless body. A gurney appeared and Joshua, Jax, and two other guards placed the body onto it. As the dead body was wheeled away, his condemned soul was dragged through the door by the souls of his victims to its damned fate.
Joshua Gogh and Jaxson Gaetano began the unpleasant task of cleaning up the remnants of the execution, each lost in his own thoughts, each again trying to stomach the scene they'd just witnessed and wondering if another occupation might not be a bad idea.
Copyright 2001 Laura Ball
Want to comment on this Short Stories?
Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Short Stories and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...
|
 |
|