The Music Box

Chapter Six

The rest of the week went by much the same. Each day seeing other prisoners, convicted of different, but no less horrific crimes. But in someway they all resembled each other: their backgrounds where most of them had been left fatherless, and committed crimes in early age. I find when I leave in the evenings, a chill inches down my spine, as if a million souls are emerging behind, escaping to wreck further havoc on helpless victims. Is this why the gargoyles exist: posted as sentries to chase down the souls as they attempt to flee their lives in hell?

   I'm astonished to see how quickly my fears of working in a prison have evaporated and how much I have adapted to the archaic, penal  routine. The days meld into weeks and I find I'm not only mentally spent, but somewhat immune to hearing the repeated and gruesome stories. Stories usually gracing the pages of some best-selling horror book. Forcing myself to switch images, I allow my mind to drift to when this was done: starting my own family. Up to this point, I've been driven by a heart much darker than what was needed to raise children, or even turn my blackened soul over to a man.

***

   After a long holiday weekend I arrive at the prison and find Officers Drohan and Harris verbally sparring over the details of some infantile sporting match from the previous night while I sign the logbook and then pass over a list of prisoners I want to see in half hour increments.

   While I wait for the first person to be brought down, I think back to my other visits with Prisoner Barnes, he intrigued me the most. Over the past few weeks I tried to get him to divulge the location of a victims body or get him to admit to previous crimes, but he held firm in his denials. I even brought in pictures of children in an effort to tempt or bribe him, but also to ascertain his level of pedophilia. He never seemed to get excited or aroused and actually appeared disgusted by the images. I wondered if he was one of the rarest types of psychopath, the kind who internally believes he didn't commit the crime because of an internal block or perhaps he has no conscience. I admit to being frustrated by my lack of progress, more so when hypnosis failed as well. I couldn't get past his mental barricades. If I was still in the army, I could have broken him days ago, but I was somewhat limited in my means here.

   The interviews with the first few prisoners go by rather swiftly, but that is fine with me, they are merely hearty appetizers for the eyes always watching in here. As the morning fades I feel ready to pee my pants, anticipating the end of the day.  At 11 a.m., I can hear the fifth and final patient coming down. The croons from other inmates on the block grow louder with each step he takes. I can tell they get an immense amount of satisfaction in victimizing him on a daily basis—the story behind that hideous scar on his neck is probably re-told with each arrival.

   While Officer Drohan sits him in the chair and secures the shackles I make small talk, "Good morning Mr. Barnes. How was your weekend?" As the officer leaves and closes the door.

   Patrick starts whimpering, expecting the same sympathetic ear which existed over the past few meetings. "It's hard to sleep in prison. The noise is overwhelming, never ending, and difficult to shut out!"

  "Well maybe I can change that? I have fantastic news: I spoke with prosecutors office yesterday, and they said if you could do that one small thing for them, give them something new or about a prior crime so that they could close case files and give the family closure, they would reduce your sentence and  give the parole board jurisdiction over you in ten years," I say, offering a believable lie.

   With a deep sadness coming over his eyes, he hangs his head. In false shame I think. "I want to go home! I don't belong here!"

  "Did you hear what I said? Don't you want to leave here and go somewhere quieter? Where no one will bother you or hurt you again?" I ask, knowing our time together is short. Soon it will be lunch time and the guards will return him to his cell. I don't know much longer I can take his lies and deception and  still keep it together.