tuna.
♦ ♦ ♦
Stuart Co. Jail, the Hole
28 August, 6:38 AM
WHEN EDWARD awoke in the morning, he quickly became bored. Occasionally, he gathered up the nerve to look out the window of his cell. When he did, he noticed that there wasn’t a lot of activity going on in the tank. Other than a lone inmate pacing around downstairs, by the table, there wasn’t anybody else around. Even the noisy monkeys in the other cells were quiet. His cell became very small.
At first, it had been a challenge to endure his present circumstances. He envisioned himself in a concentration camp, holed up in solitary confinement. At any moment, an enemy guard might come by and whisk him off to an interrogation room. He had to remain strong – not only for himself, but also for America. When the enemy guard failed to appear, after an hour or so, Edward’s mind took another detour from reality. He envisioned himself a s a great liberator, almost like Martin Luther King, who’d stand up and speak out for the down-trodden and oppressed. Blessed with extraordinary speaking skills, he’d deliver a rousing speech to the Congress of the United States. He might even be recognized by the President for his contributions to humanity.
Before long, Edward’s grandiose thoughts were chilled by the cold walls which surrounded him. Even playing games in his head, like Tic-Tack-Toe, failed to lift his spirit. Edward was sinking, and sinking fast.
As he descended into the abyss, Edward found himself reliving his dreams. Not only were they calm and soothing, they were also becoming his only escape from his present reality. He savored each dream. In the process, his mind conjured up forgotten details which made the dreams all the more real.
Edward put both of his feet up on the wall, as he lay on his back. He looked towards the window on the door for a minute or two, and then upwards at the light fixture, and the back to the window. Time dragged on; he could almost hear the clinking sound it made as it trudged past his cell.
Stuart Co. Jail, the Hole
30 August, 11:09 AM
THOUGH EDWARD had rebelled against God, he still believed in Him. In fact, now that he was in jail, he began to rely more and more on thoughts about God to provide comfort. Edward also thought that perhaps God was trying to tell him something in his dreams – kind of like He did for Joseph, when Joseph was a captive in Egypt. To be sure about this hypothesis, he thought he’d better ask the Chaplain for advice. Edward also just needed someone to talk to and provide encouragement.
WHEN THE C haplain arrived at Edward’s cell, he found him sitting on the side of his bed looking blankly at the wall. He was rocking back and forth, mumbling to himself. The Chaplain was not surprised or even shocked by Edward’s behavior; he’d seen it all before. Still, he was worried about Edward and wanted to help him.
Upon seeing the Chaplain, Edward snapped out of his trance-like state. He explained, almost apologetically, that he’d been wondering if it would be possible for someone, perhaps someone who was living in a cave or even in the Hole as he was, to forget how to speak English. It makes sense , he had reasoned, that if a man seldom hears another person speak, or seldom speaks himself, that he’d sooner or later forget the meaning of words and phrases. The Chaplain spent a few minutes discussing the scenario with him.
Edward and the Chaplain spoke with each other for about fifteen minutes. Edward found the visit to be extremely uplifting, and a tremendous encouragement. Before leaving, the Chaplain prayed with him and gave him a small Bible. Edward promised to read it often.
“SLAM!”
CHAPTER FIVE
Stuart Co. Jail, Cell Block 3West
Holding Room 1
30 August, 3:20 PM
JOSH HAD been in jail for several weeks, and was again meeting with his attorney to discuss his case.
♦ ♦ ♦
Stuart Co. Jail, the Hole
28 August, 6:38 AM
WHEN EDWARD awoke in the morning, he quickly became bored. Occasionally, he gathered up the nerve to look out the window of his cell. When he did, he noticed that there wasn’t a lot of activity going on in the tank. Other than a lone inmate pacing around downstairs, by the table, there wasn’t anybody else around. Even the noisy monkeys in the other cells were quiet. His cell became very small.
At first, it had been a challenge to endure his present circumstances. He envisioned himself in a concentration camp, holed up in solitary confinement. At any moment, an enemy guard might come by and whisk him off to an interrogation room. He had to remain strong – not only for himself, but also for America. When the enemy guard failed to appear, after an hour or so, Edward’s mind took another detour from reality. He envisioned himself a s a great liberator, almost like Martin Luther King, who’d stand up and speak out for the down-trodden and oppressed. Blessed with extraordinary speaking skills, he’d deliver a rousing speech to the Congress of the United States. He might even be recognized by the President for his contributions to humanity.
Before long, Edward’s grandiose thoughts were chilled by the cold walls which surrounded him. Even playing games in his head, like Tic-Tack-Toe, failed to lift his spirit. Edward was sinking, and sinking fast.
As he descended into the abyss, Edward found himself reliving his dreams. Not only were they calm and soothing, they were also becoming his only escape from his present reality. He savored each dream. In the process, his mind conjured up forgotten details which made the dreams all the more real.
Edward put both of his feet up on the wall, as he lay on his back. He looked towards the window on the door for a minute or two, and then upwards at the light fixture, and the back to the window. Time dragged on; he could almost hear the clinking sound it made as it trudged past his cell.
Stuart Co. Jail, the Hole
30 August, 11:09 AM
THOUGH EDWARD had rebelled against God, he still believed in Him. In fact, now that he was in jail, he began to rely more and more on thoughts about God to provide comfort. Edward also thought that perhaps God was trying to tell him something in his dreams – kind of like He did for Joseph, when Joseph was a captive in Egypt. To be sure about this hypothesis, he thought he’d better ask the Chaplain for advice. Edward also just needed someone to talk to and provide encouragement.
WHEN THE C haplain arrived at Edward’s cell, he found him sitting on the side of his bed looking blankly at the wall. He was rocking back and forth, mumbling to himself. The Chaplain was not surprised or even shocked by Edward’s behavior; he’d seen it all before. Still, he was worried about Edward and wanted to help him.
Upon seeing the Chaplain, Edward snapped out of his trance-like state. He explained, almost apologetically, that he’d been wondering if it would be possible for someone, perhaps someone who was living in a cave or even in the Hole as he was, to forget how to speak English. It makes sense , he had reasoned, that if a man seldom hears another person speak, or seldom speaks himself, that he’d sooner or later forget the meaning of words and phrases. The Chaplain spent a few minutes discussing the scenario with him.
Edward and the Chaplain spoke with each other for about fifteen minutes. Edward found the visit to be extremely uplifting, and a tremendous encouragement. Before leaving, the Chaplain prayed with him and gave him a small Bible. Edward promised to read it often.
“SLAM!”
CHAPTER FIVE
Stuart Co. Jail, Cell Block 3West
Holding Room 1
30 August, 3:20 PM
JOSH HAD been in jail for several weeks, and was again meeting with his attorney to discuss his case.
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