Prison Stories: Preacher Man, part 1
October 23rd 2006 23:37
STORY BLOCK RATED R violence, sex, profanity
PREACHER MAN
by
Cathy Jourdan
A prison transport bus was parked just outside of the sallyport. A correction officer stepped off the bus. Stopping for just a second, the young, clean cut officer reached his hand up to someone in the bus. Inmate Morales, a forty five year old inmate, carefully climbed down the steps as the officer held his elbow. His hands and feet were shackled . Morales dressed in an orange jumpsuit held on to a laundry bag full of his personal belongings. The officer tightened his grip on Morales’ elbows as the sallyport gate opened just far enough to let the two men go through. As soon as the two cleared the gate it closed.
The officer conscientiously patted Morales down as the bus backed away. The inside gate to the sallyport opened slowly. The officer and Morales walked through onto the prison grounds. The officer waved toward the tower as he and Morales cleared the gate. Morales looked around as he and the officer walked toward a building with large sign that said, "Quartermaster." The two men entered the building and stood in front a counter with a cage that extended from the countertop to the ceiling, separating him from officer Higgins, a frail looking man in his fifties.
“Name and number...”
“Morales...89-924.”
“Speak up...I can't hear you, asshole.” the man said with disdain.
Morales raised his voice a couple of notches. “Morales...89-924.”
Without looking up Higgins wrote something on a card and then walked over to a shelf where there were brown paper bags with clothing in them. “Size?”
“Extra large.”
Higgins grabbed a bag and returned to the counter. He opened the pass-through door and shoved the bag at Morales. Morales took the bag from the counter.
“Pull out a set of blues and put em on. Give me the jumpsuit.” Higgins said.
Morales reached in the bag and pulled out a pair of pants and a shirt. He dropped the jump suit and slipped on the shirt and pants. He placed the jumpsuit on the counter, picked up the paper bag and his laundry bag and walked to the door. He stopped and turned back to Higgins. “Thank you.” he said in a soft voice.
Higgins just looked at him. Morales quietly walked out.
“Fuck you...” Higgins said as Morales exited.
Inmate Morales walked down the street amongst many inmates. He checked out the signs in front of buildings as he passed them. He stopped in front of one building and pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. He looked at the sign on the building. The sign read, "L-Dorm." Morales took a deep breath and entered.
In the inner office, officer Gates is leaned back in his chair with his feet propped on the wall. His six foot plus stature filling the small office. He noticed Morales when he entered. “Who the hell are you...and why are you in my dorm?”
“I'm Inmate Morales and I'm assigned here, sir.” responded Morales politely.
Morales handed Gates the slip of paper. Gates looked up at a board that had a diagram of the dormitory.
“Third floor, bed two...and I'm warning you I don't put up with any shit in my dorm.” Gates said in a threatening manner.
“I won't be putting any out, sir...bless you.” Morales turns and heads up the stairs.
Gates shook his head and lit a cigarette. “Jesus freak...just what I need.”
Morales stopped on the steps for a second, listening and then continued up.
Upstairs there were about thirty inmates milling around. Some of them noticed Morales as he approached bed two, but none of them spoke, they just watched him. Morales flipped down the mattress and tossed the two bags on his bunk. He sat down on the bed and reached in his laundry bag. He pulled out a small wooden cross and a Bible. He kissed the cross and then opened the Bible and read a couple of verses. The inmates around him are eyed him skeptically. Morales looked at a young man who looked slightly feminine and much younger than his years, who was in the bed next to him. “Hi, son.” Morales extended his hand to the young man who smiled and shook his hand.
“Hi, I'm Shamey...and you are?”
“Morales...people call me Preacher Man.?
“Preacher Man...hmm...I like that. Are you a preacher?”
“Yes, I'm ordained.” Morales stated proudly.
“Were you a preacher before you got locked up?”
Morales shook his head. “No, actually, I was a sinner. I did terrible things, the worst of which landed me in prison. But, thank God, I've seen the light.”
“If you don't mind me asking, what are you in here for?”
“Murder...I took a woman's life after I robbed her.”
“Oh....” was all that Shamey could get out of his mouth.
“I was a different man then. Drugs and alcohol were all that I cared about...But now I live for God and to spread his word so that others can feel his love and live good lives. And what did you do to end up here?”
“Drug trafficking...I sold a bag of weed to an undercover cop.”
Morales stood up and squeezed Shamey's shoulder. “You're young and you have time to find God and the good life. If there is anything I can do to help, just let me know...Can you point me in the direction of the restroom?”
“Sure...I'll show you.” Shamey and Morales exited the area with Shamey leading the way.
Part II, tomorrow (Weds.)
PREACHER MAN
by
Cathy Jourdan
A prison transport bus was parked just outside of the sallyport. A correction officer stepped off the bus. Stopping for just a second, the young, clean cut officer reached his hand up to someone in the bus. Inmate Morales, a forty five year old inmate, carefully climbed down the steps as the officer held his elbow. His hands and feet were shackled . Morales dressed in an orange jumpsuit held on to a laundry bag full of his personal belongings. The officer tightened his grip on Morales’ elbows as the sallyport gate opened just far enough to let the two men go through. As soon as the two cleared the gate it closed.
The officer conscientiously patted Morales down as the bus backed away. The inside gate to the sallyport opened slowly. The officer and Morales walked through onto the prison grounds. The officer waved toward the tower as he and Morales cleared the gate. Morales looked around as he and the officer walked toward a building with large sign that said, "Quartermaster." The two men entered the building and stood in front a counter with a cage that extended from the countertop to the ceiling, separating him from officer Higgins, a frail looking man in his fifties.
“Name and number...”
“Morales...89-924.”
“Speak up...I can't hear you, asshole.” the man said with disdain.
Morales raised his voice a couple of notches. “Morales...89-924.”
Without looking up Higgins wrote something on a card and then walked over to a shelf where there were brown paper bags with clothing in them. “Size?”
“Extra large.”
Higgins grabbed a bag and returned to the counter. He opened the pass-through door and shoved the bag at Morales. Morales took the bag from the counter.
“Pull out a set of blues and put em on. Give me the jumpsuit.” Higgins said.
Morales reached in the bag and pulled out a pair of pants and a shirt. He dropped the jump suit and slipped on the shirt and pants. He placed the jumpsuit on the counter, picked up the paper bag and his laundry bag and walked to the door. He stopped and turned back to Higgins. “Thank you.” he said in a soft voice.
Higgins just looked at him. Morales quietly walked out.
“Fuck you...” Higgins said as Morales exited.
Inmate Morales walked down the street amongst many inmates. He checked out the signs in front of buildings as he passed them. He stopped in front of one building and pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. He looked at the sign on the building. The sign read, "L-Dorm." Morales took a deep breath and entered.
In the inner office, officer Gates is leaned back in his chair with his feet propped on the wall. His six foot plus stature filling the small office. He noticed Morales when he entered. “Who the hell are you...and why are you in my dorm?”
“I'm Inmate Morales and I'm assigned here, sir.” responded Morales politely.
Morales handed Gates the slip of paper. Gates looked up at a board that had a diagram of the dormitory.
“Third floor, bed two...and I'm warning you I don't put up with any shit in my dorm.” Gates said in a threatening manner.
“I won't be putting any out, sir...bless you.” Morales turns and heads up the stairs.
Gates shook his head and lit a cigarette. “Jesus freak...just what I need.”
Morales stopped on the steps for a second, listening and then continued up.
Upstairs there were about thirty inmates milling around. Some of them noticed Morales as he approached bed two, but none of them spoke, they just watched him. Morales flipped down the mattress and tossed the two bags on his bunk. He sat down on the bed and reached in his laundry bag. He pulled out a small wooden cross and a Bible. He kissed the cross and then opened the Bible and read a couple of verses. The inmates around him are eyed him skeptically. Morales looked at a young man who looked slightly feminine and much younger than his years, who was in the bed next to him. “Hi, son.” Morales extended his hand to the young man who smiled and shook his hand.
“Hi, I'm Shamey...and you are?”
“Morales...people call me Preacher Man.?
“Preacher Man...hmm...I like that. Are you a preacher?”
“Yes, I'm ordained.” Morales stated proudly.
“Were you a preacher before you got locked up?”
Morales shook his head. “No, actually, I was a sinner. I did terrible things, the worst of which landed me in prison. But, thank God, I've seen the light.”
“If you don't mind me asking, what are you in here for?”
“Murder...I took a woman's life after I robbed her.”
“Oh....” was all that Shamey could get out of his mouth.
“I was a different man then. Drugs and alcohol were all that I cared about...But now I live for God and to spread his word so that others can feel his love and live good lives. And what did you do to end up here?”
“Drug trafficking...I sold a bag of weed to an undercover cop.”
Morales stood up and squeezed Shamey's shoulder. “You're young and you have time to find God and the good life. If there is anything I can do to help, just let me know...Can you point me in the direction of the restroom?”
“Sure...I'll show you.” Shamey and Morales exited the area with Shamey leading the way.
Part II, tomorrow (Weds.)
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