his denuded head. A sallow complexion was proof that he hadn’t been exposed to the hot Georgia sun for ages. I thought back to the timetable from Hank’s briefing. It had been six years, if I rememberedcorrectly, since Jimmy Joe had been out, which only counted for eleven days of freedom and then three more years.
His faded jumpsuit was not the faint gray of the other prisoners; it was the same garish Day-Glo orange of my rescue suit. This meant he was prone to run, and they wanted to be damned sure that he could be easily seen while doing so.
I guessed—as best I could given that he was sitting—that he was my height and weighed about 140 pounds.
I pulled out the heavy chair, sat down, and raised an inquiring eyebrow. He quickly picked up the phone on his side of the glass, put it to his ear, and gestured toward the one by my right hand. I picked it up and spoke first.
“Are you Jimmy Joe Lane?”
“Yes’m, and I’m real proud to meet you at last. I surely admire your skills with dogs and I’ve kept a scrapbook of all your exploits that appeared in the
Atlanta-Constitution
and the
Dunston County Daily Times
.”
“I admire kind words, as most folks do, but I’m sure they weren’t the reason that you asked to see me. What’s on your mind?”
“I wanted to be sure that you knew I admired you so if you get upset with what I’m gonna tell you, you won’t leave without knowing how I feel about you.”
“All right.”
I sat and waited for him to get to the point. He placed both elbows on the narrow ledge in front of the glass and tilted his head to the receiver and gave me another huge grin.
“Do you remember reading about me? Nothing much for the last six years, but I’ve been cussed and discussed a few times myself. Do you remember the song they wrote about me?”
“I didn’t remember you at all. Sheriff Cribbs had to fill me in. Now, what is it that you wanted to tell me that might make me angry? This is not a social visit.”
“I’m messing this up and I apologize. The only women I’ve talked to in the last seventeen years were kin to me, with the exception of a few female guards. I’m nervous. I’ll just blurt it out and hope you don’t get down on me. I wanted to tell you I’ll be leaving here soon, and I love dogs. I had bluetick hounds when I was growing up. I have never mistreated a dog in my life, honest. Don’t put any of your dogs on my trail…please?”
I stared at him. I couldn’t believe he could be so dumb and here Hank had been telling me how brainy he was. I shook my head in disbelief.
“You are nuts! First, you tell a complete stranger you’re planning on trying to escape from here, and second, you have the unmitigated gall to threaten my bloodhounds!”
“You’re not a stranger to me, ma’am; I’ve loved you for six years. You’re on my mind every waking minuteof my day. I surely don’t want to harm them bloodhounds of yours and that’s gospel. You surely wouldn’t feel kindly toward my proposal of marriage if I did, I’m sure of that! I didn’t want to tell you so soon about awanting to marry you and all, but you sounded so riled I had to let you know that my intentions were honorable.”
I stood quickly, shoving the metal chair, which made a penetrating screech, like chalk drawn across a blackboard. My legs had worked faster than my brain in assembling his crazy message. I still had the speaker-phone in my hand.
“I don’t know you and have no desire to hear another word out of your mouth. I will report your conversation to the warden about a possible attempt to escape. If you should succeed in breaking out, my bloodhounds will track you in or out of the Okefenokee and run you to ground. That’s not a threat, it’s a promise!”
I slammed the phone harder than necessary in its cradle, spun on my heel, and didn’t stop until I reached the information counter near the front entrance. This gave me time to control my breathing and calm down.
Two
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Sarah Castille
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Linda Berdoll