Mr. Clay was an honest man. He knew his way with convicts, and he just wanted to leave those poor bastards alone. Heeley State Prison was a joke, its death row complex had a long glass corridor and you could see cars and buses cruising on the highway from the cells, and if they had binoculars they would see those orange shapes of men breathing and leaning against the walls to have a chat.
From the small restaurant accross the road anyone could do that no sweat. That place seemed to be there for that same reason, its name glowing on the big sign in those very first hours of the day. Condenado.
A woman stood out there in the parking lot, miniskirt and a perfect whitey smile on her blonde head, waving her hands and shaking her ass to customers and taking orders, she must've been Miss Highway of Oklahoma State, whispered every morning Anspaugh to Frank Sally.
What do you care anyway?
It's not that I care...
Uh? You don't care now eh? You're fuckin' bustin' my balls every fuckin morning with this "super miniskirt" broad and now you don't care... And what's special with your eyes anyway pal? The broad's miles away!
You don't understand Frank... you really don't understand... I wanted to be her, see? I've always wanted to...
O Gee... Swear to God, I'm outta here...
There was a time, before I did that motherfuckin' lawyer, that I realised I wanted to be like her. These women can have anything they want.
Yeah? And how come she's a fuckin waitress?
She chose it.
Yeah?
Swear to God.
She chose it, uh?
Sure did, want a cig?
Yeah.
Ok, listen... You take a man...
Right.
...from the sewer, he ain't got a bit of style, he ends up killing for a living and who cares, right?
Humpf, yeah...
He wanna be someone but he just can't. Someone else made the choices for him a long time ago and that's it... You can't change what you are Frankie...
No?
Fuckin A! This woman's got the cards, no matter what...
This is pathetic, that glass shouldn't be there in the first place!
Why?
Why not?
I tell you what, and I'm serious now Frank... Those people's got nothing to do with you and me being here.
No? And why the hell are they spying on us all day?
Cause this is the way it's supposed to be... By showing ourselves we're giving them a chance not to make the wrong choice.
You said someone else chose for them already.
Yes I did.
So?
So that's the way it is...
Oh dude, you really are something, you know?
Thanks Frank...
Anytime.
Oh God, I don't believe this...
What?
She's waving at me!
Yeah, sure. Mr. Clay?
What is it, Sally?
I think it's time for this guy here to have his Monster's Ball, am I right?
In half an hour time Sally. You can tell your friend we're buying some food at the restaurant. I'll be here in ten minutes to take the order.
Sure chief, can I have something too?
What's wrong with your soup today?
Nothing sir, just wandering... You know?
I'll let you have a lollipop, ok?
Thank you sir, much obliged.
Be quiet now. The both of ya...
Slowly the day becomes brighter, a bunch of guards smoke their tobacco in the parking lot, waiting for the last meal to be ready. A tall light soda, a juicy T-bone, a buttered sandwich, a huge banana split, a piece of lemon cake, a milkshake with a cake spoon of fresh filter coffee, cause Mr. Clay doesn't need a nervous Anspaugh, and a tiny strawberry lollipop. It' all there. On their way to the prison, crossing the highway with the wind on their red faces, the guards meet the serious look of the waitress staring at them, and it's all gone. Dry wind blows down from the Ozark mauntains from where the ball of the sun has been thrown up in the sky, a big yolk that shines west, all over the road for New Mexico.
By the time Frank Sally had finished his lollipop David Anspaugh Junior was lying on his bunk with a stupid smirk on his face. He was already dead, two more white pills in his left hand and a small unfolded piece of paper in the other.
Mr. Clay opened the cell door and didn't say a word, he was dead, that's all it mattered to him. He took the paper from his hand. There were two lines written in pink, and his pants were all soaked in urine once he read it.
I know who you are Dave, I know your story and you deserved a better life with me.
Everyone deserves it no matter what, since there's no such thing as heaven or hell after it.
Yours,
Claudine.
