Jesus Commits Suicide

"You know, guys, they won't be calling this the Last Supper for nothing. Come tomorrow, I'm toast!"

"Say it ain't so, boss! Us guys will moider anyone who touches you!"

"It's no use, boys. I'm to be tortured and murdered in the most brutal way possible. Nothing to be done about it. Mob rule is the final rule."

"Geez, what a lousy planet this is! We'ez is hopin' you'd be changing all that."

"Me? I can't even change your god-awful Jersey speech. It's free will here, boys. There will be just as many assholes when I leave here as when I got here."

"Dang it, boss. Then what ya even comes here for?"

"Got me! So I tell you what I'm going to do. I'm going to off myself. If I'm going to die, I'm going to do it my way on my time!"

"You show 'em, boss! Don't give them Romans no satisfaction! We'ez too smart for them!"

"Right. Since I'm dead anyway, what's the point of going through all the agony? Am I supposed to be stupid enough to think they'll suddenly see the error of theirs ways and repent?"

"You can't count on them guys repentin' nothin', boss! But ain't there some prophesies or such sayin' you's supposed to get it on a cross and a bunch of other really bad shit?"

"Prophesy, shmophesy! What difference does it make how I die as long as I do?"

"Ain't folks expectin' ya to die for their sins?"

"Of course I'm dying for their sins! If I weren't surrounded by murdering sinners I wouldn't be dying."

"I mean, ain't they expecting to get something outta this?"

"What kind of nutball hopes to get something out of crucifying someone? I could be a murderous, raping, two-bit camel thief and they still wouldn't get anything out of it. That's just nuts!"

"I dunno, boss. That's how folks is talkin'. They's thinking soon as you's dead on the cross they gettin' some free ride outta that, like they ain't sinners no more."

"What? Has no one listened to a word I've said? Do they believe themselves Pharaoh? If I die on that cross tomorrow every man, woman and child who follows is condemned to bear a cross of their own."

"That means we can't be lettin' you die no matter what! Most important thing ever for you's to live!"

"You'd be out of luck taking a vote on that. Afterwards, when the truth is obvious, there'll be all sorts of people - even Romans who'll call themselves holy - who will claim me for their own. Believing that, they will do unto others everything that's to be done to me tomorrow in my name!"

"Jesus, boss, we can't let that happen!"

"I told you suicide was the best way. Gets everyone off the hook, even me."

"But then folks will be sayin' you ain't you. What about that if you don't die the way they's expectin'?"

"I ain't - dammit, now you've got me doing it - I'm not dying for them. I'm dying for telling the truth. Trust me when I tell you all the truth-tellers will be killed. You're nothing but a bunch of goddam assassins."

"Won't God protect you? If you's ain't worth saving, who is??"

"We're on our own here, guys. No favors done for anybody. Justice ends here and begins here - or there's none at all."

"You means it's all on us?"

"One hundred percent, now and forever."

"Boss, God can't be trusting us like that! It's always the liars in charge, tellin' folks what they wants to hear."

"What? You mean doing this can make me President? Cool!"

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"We gotta show them how bad they needs to reform or there'll not be no hope for no one!"

"You lost lost me with all the double negatives there but I get your gist. But only way I can do that is to go through with the show trial and their tricks to forever brand their disregard for truth."

"We can't let them liars win, boss! But you's sure this is gonna work?"

"I'm as sure as a conservative is corrupt! Why that (literal) cocksucker Pilate at one point is going to ask me, "What is truth?" Have you heard anything so outrageous!? He's going to deny everything. I can read him like an open scroll."

"Gees, boss, we'ez just sick you gotta go through that. Sure there ain't nothing we can do to help? Wouldn't bother me none to knock off a couple of those phony temple rabbis!"

"Man, dealing with you guys is like herding cats. NO violence! How many times do I have to tell you? If you really want to piss them off, tell them you still love them."

"I dunno, boss. Them Romans is real perverts. They's likely to take it the wrong ways."

"Trust me, they'll know what you mean. Their hearts are on fire from all the lying. When they see they can't set yours on fire it will drive them nuts."

"You da man, boss! You always get it right! I always tell folks when it comes to Jesus, fuggedaboutit!"

"Of course, when you drive the-powers-that-be nuts there's a price to pay."

"What you's sayin', boss? You mean..."

"That's right, boys: crosses all around. It's the only thing they know to do."

"Geez, boss, and I thought we was a bunch of dummies. But we ain't no liars!"

"Anyone who betrays himself, hangs himself. Right, Judas?"

"I must be the stupidest man alive."

"No doubt. But one thing you can do is roll up some of that potent Egyptian weed we scored last week. It will be the last useful thing you'll do."

"Wow, boss, we sure do wish there was a better way."

"There is. But we've got tonight to get stoned out of our ever-loving minds and forget about all that. Love will find a way - just not now."

"Geez, boss, if not now, when?"

Reversal Of Misfortune

"Oh, it's you. What are you doing with that?"

Those were the last words I ever spoke. The shotgun did its job with a single, booming blast. I shouldn't have answered the door but I was too lonely not to. The universe seeks out its balance no matter where you may run and hide. I always sort of knew that but never could face it - story of my life.

It was long, lost Debby-Lynn standing at that door. I'd have bet my life I'd never see her again and, well, dammit I guess I did! But you get so beaten down, day after day of "You don't count. Your feelings don't count", that you simply get crushed by the fears of it unless you're a brave soul who can face dangers of life. I was not a brave soul - and now I never will be.

Guess I better back up to the beginning. Debby-Lynn I knew 25 years ago. I fell hopelessly, madly in love with her, straight out of a Hollywood movie. Meet your soul mate, get through your period of doubt, then live happily ever after. That's what sells tickets anyway. In real life, lives are broken and despair rules with a heavy hand. "What is meant for me? Are dreams for the next world only?"

Debby-Lynn was married when I knew her but that made no difference to my singing heart. This boy was dancing in the streets. That feeling of completion vindicating your childhood faith will have you star-stepping on the clouds. Suddenly, the impossible became possible. Like Kennedy, I found myself asking, "Why not?" instead of, "Why?" In her presence I was transported to the heavens.

"You too can have love."

But fear and cowardice ruled the day in the end. Her marriage was an easy excuse to bow out. Oh sure, I told her I loved her but did I feel worthy of the limitless treasure I'd sought for so long? It wasn't long before she moved away and I fell into a deep, dark pit of devastation. To my everlasting guilt, I turned on her near the end, driving her away, thinking that would make me safe from my feelings for her. But it only dug the hole deeper.

For a while there I neither spoke nor laughed. The light was gone and my world once again receded into darkness. I took a job as a taxi driver and to this day that period of despair is branded upon my soul. I'd pick up couples I enviously spied headed out for the evening. I'd drive through shiny suburban neighborhoods of families seemingly set atop mountains I could never climb. I was a being from another planet on the outside looking in.

Passionate sex scenes were the worst. I imagined that was Debby-Lynn living the life, sharing her body and soul, crucifying me in the process. Better to have never known treasure lost. Life went on but I pined away. Was it ever any real? Did I just make it all up? I have to find my way back to her. I wrote about her, page after page, imagining and exploring the dream I saw with her. By that one thin thread I was hanging.

But I only kept running, too afraid to face myself. Then a few years ago, it all unraveled for me. I suffered a severe nervous breakdown from which I never recovered. I tracked Debby-Lynn down and she'd had her two children and house on the hill and everything I never gave her but wished to. It just seemed finally the dream was over, my hope sunk.

My running reached a new degree then even as my physical body disintegrated. I moved from place to place, hiding in the cloak of anonymity. How could I explain my shame? I didn't want anyone to know my name - all the while desperate for everyone to. So you can imagine my surprise when I heard a knock on my friendless door. No matter how unreasonable I clung to hope that one day I'd get the knock that saved me, that I'd drop to my knees in glorious surrender, heaven awaiting.

Yes, that was Debby-Lynn at the door just as I'd always hoped, but that look on her face! She had a possessed look of fury, of someone who'd been whipped a thousand times but could not take another lash. Her laser eyes did not blink, seeing me exactly for what I was. And once confirmed, she pulled the trigger, driven over the edge by frustration and hate. Oh, what seeds I have sown.

Funny how advertisers speak of storing your data in a cloud because that's exactly where the life story of each end every soul resides in the afterlife. Naturally, I rushed to see Debby-Lynn's true story. Boy, were we two souls incapable of communicating.

She'd felt everything I had, after all. Her marriage was a prison, not the paradise I'd imagined. Sex was torment, not skyrockets of ecstasy. Smiles of propaganda fiercely guarded her secrets of state. For years I'd lamented, "Just one word from her would change my life." She too was just as starved for that drop of water in the desert of her life. Instead, I had clung to the false morality of "honoring" her marriage, that I was no good for her. I just couldn't pull out of that tailspin.

Neither could she escape her prison. Like me in my own way, she'd made false starts in rectifying her life but always careful to sabotage them in the end. She wanted to say, "See? I tried. There's no point in trying." Dear God did I recognize myself in that. But the soul knows what it knows no matter how convincing our outward smiles. Hers had been seared and shorn, driving her to grab her double barreled instrument of salvation, to forever destroy the pea under mattress: me. Can't say I didn't know that same frustration.

*****

Nobody's anonymous in Heaven. We all count. Every dream is precious as the sun. I'd asked for and been given a life, the ultimate act of trust. And I duly wasted it. Upon arrival a soul is granted one wish. I asked that the heathens of hell called earth be blinded as to who shot me. Debby-Lynn was innocent, undeserving of the judgment of jackals who could never know or understand the truth. Goodbye, Debby-Lynn. Remember, the next time the rain falls those are tears of mine.

Tears Of The Twilight Child

Twilight Child
Run for the sky;
Storms on the ground
Are rushing nigh.

Parental plotting
Stole the future;
Search for healing
But find no suture.

Dogs of war
Have cut their leash;
No fortress built
They cannot breach.

Dark witches glee
In unholy book;
Plant dead seeds
To fool the cook.

Their intended heaven
Will you believe -
Or the hell they make
For you to grieve?

What see you when
Masks ripped asunder?
They sell you love
But treasure plunder.

A contract forged
For you to sign:
That when abused
You're "feeling fine."

Wheels in motion
Grind dreams to dust;
The corporate soul
Your life to rust.

"The world is love,
"It's life's the lie."
You'll be outcast
If you dare sigh.

How frightening, yes,
To face this horror;
But without the truth
You'll be the poorer.

Sorrow and pity
They forever sow;
The final solution
We'll soon know.

Time's come for
The end of the Age;
So praise the fool
And kill the sage;

But holy Nature
Cannot be swayed;
She always knows
When She's betrayed.

Twilight Child
Must face our doom!
Hold fast to your heart
In the deepening gloom.

Entering The Valley Of Lost Souls

"He will bring them death - and they will love him for it."
- Ancient prophesy

Running away has a price - a very high price, costing you everything - and everyone - you love. It does not matter how justified you thought that running away might have been, it only matters that you did. It leaves a constant grieving in the heart and a trail of shattered objects never to be whole again. With these things preying on your mind, it's easy for your decisions to forsake you further and lead you astray. This is how you find yourself entering the Valley Of Lost Souls.

I'd been wandering for years, marked and scarred by my homelessness. So it did not surprise me to see the sight I saw, of a hangman's noose holding a lifeless body from a tree limb. Such was the sorrow in the earth beneath my feet. Normally I'd have wondered who had hanged him and why. But in this case I knew the man had done it himself. The feeling only increased as a drew nearer.

And then I noticed the rope. Only it was not a rope but barbed wire. What twisted reasoning had brought this soul to this useless demise? I sat on the brown grass and cried. As my tears reached the ground a flower sprouted. As I looked around it was the only flower to be seen. I needed provisions. A runner is one whose choices whittle away and that's how I found myself dipping down into the forest's fog.

My human instincts would not serve me here. I rushed to the sound of a man screaming. When I found him he was sawing on the lower part of his leg.

"Why are you doing that? What's wrong with your leg?"

"Gangrene means the leg must come off."

"Is that what you have, gangrene?"

"No, but the act is the same so it cannot be denied."

"Then why even do it?" I felt as if I'd been drafted as an unwitting character in a play, not knowing my lines had already been scripted.

"Because I have begun! I'd be a fool to stop now!"

"You'd be a fool to continue! Stop now and the wound still has a chance of healing."

"It's too late! All you bleeding hearts are the same, always trying to save the world. I hate you!"

"Do you love yourself?"

"But of course!"

"Then hate from you is a good thing."

"Bastard! I will not be a fool who changes course. I am a man of courage and principle. My loyalty cannot be doubted!"

He went on blathering but I stopped listening. The mention of loyalty I thought odd but I was already learning to block my natural curiosity in this foul land. Get in, get out, resume my wandering. But something told me it wouldn't be so simple. When I heard another frail voice I was still drawn to listen.

"Oh, curse the sky above and the God who made it! What a hell has been made for us. If only the sky weren't blue!"

"But the sky is blue. How is that a source of sorrow?"

"It is for me, my enemy. I claimed it to be mauve. Thousands believed me and followed my word. I was a god among men, riches handed to me in the name of God. Then it all fell away. Hell is this planet!"

"What happened? Everyone found it out to be blue and they turned on you?"

"No, another came along and claimed it fuchsia. His conviction was greater than mine and I was defrocked. Having believed myself a god I opened my eyes to see the sky blue thus making my words hollow. But just think! Were it mauve I'd be revered and loved like none other! Oh, damn this universe we live in!"

As I continued on I remembered the defrocked man's face on an Unwanted poster. In this desperate country the fervor to reject is as great as the fervor to worship. Woe be to he who accepts the invitation to be god of the day. At the edge of the valley village I noticed Saw Man leaning on a crutch talking with a group of friends whose limbs were also missing. Shit, he wasn't kidding about the loyalty part! Above them a pink sign lettered "RNC".

The air became more intense, more suspicious, more deranged, the further I entered. I could hear the whispers. Who does he think he is? Sanity is death! He must not be allowed to live. Could I fake my way through? Could I trumpet my own idiocy with their same conviction? I began to wonder. One thing is for sure, things were reaching a boiling point and I was in the wrong place at the wrong time - again.

An air raid siren sounded acting as a clarion call to the faithful. A loudspeaker made the grave but enthusiastic announcement: "Time has come for Final Solution. All hope is lost! No more tolerance! No more suffering the menace of our enemies! Our will be done!" Fanatic cheers and rampages with angry eyes erupted like a long simmering volcano finally releasing its doom. No one noticed nor cared I even existed. I had not a chance were it otherwise in the face of this red-faced mob.

Just found out they've been voting against
their economic interests for decades

Liberals bound and chained were dragged from prison cells and into the streets. Never had I seen such rage as I did when I heard the scolding from the lost souls. "First you imprisoned us with your words of truth so we imprisoned you. Never once did you think what it meant for us, so no longer will we think of you! Time has come for you to share our fate! See how much better you think you are now! HAHAHAHA!"

To a soul, every last one entered a large ship on the river to the Great Falls, a thousand foot drop straight onto rocks. I could hear the liberals still trying to reason even as the loudspeaker said all hope was gone. "But you will die along with us. Don't you want to live?"

"Live? There's no living here! It's pointless! We've tried everything outside of love and there's nothing to be found. No way we're leaving you behind to badmouth and mock us. Nothing can save you. It is we who rule the world. It has always been this way and will remain this way until the very end! HAHAHAHAHA!"

I rushed to the river's edge as they steamed away heading for certain death. Would they really do it? The ship was gaining too much momentum to stop even if it wanted to. But as it fell over the edge I saw the most miraculous thing: a host of angels descended gathering up each and every liberal and carrying them away to safety. The lost souls wailed in fury.

"We are the saved ones! You're supposed to save us! This isn't fair! You're changing the rules. This was supposed to be our one final win! Oh, damn you, God!"

I watched as the ship shattered to pieces, no survivors, betrayed by everything they'd hoped to save them, true justice before my very eyes. I heard the voice of a liberal looking up as an angel carried him away to God knows where.

"About goddam time!"

CODA: I wandered back to the abandoned village, stocking up to me heart's content on the provisions I needed from the empty stores. I thought myself clever until, suddenly, I slumped to the dirt and pondered, "What the hell for?"

Tommy Maroney Is A Dead Wiseguy Now

Every day is a fight for survival for me. In the shadow of your laughter stream my tears. I know who you are but you do not - nor will you know in my lifetime. My pleas are like snowflakes falling on hot pavement, evaporating without impact. The world has made up its mind to die. The rest is mere theatrics. The people applaud a good show. Will they applaud their final fate?

A man once said public safety can only be done through democracy, equality and building a society of rights. In these times he's a heretic but in the aftermath will be considered a sage among savages. But for now we live in a world of roaming beasts, attacking without thought, blind, deluded and desperate. Want to keep your life? You came to the wrong planet. All who enter must give it away or perish.

And so I struggle along, waiting for society's gun against my head to go off, hearing fools lie claiming "that's just life". Life is nothing of the sort. Life does not exist apart from freedom. Life does not exist outside of the truth. We may all be alive, but not all of us have a life. It's that living life we need to preserve. Only there is meaning to be found.

Emily is my cat sitter. I don't trust just anyone with my cat. In fact, I would very confidently say I can pick out a better cat sitter for me than most people can a mate. But like most people she has a duality to her and her husband lives in the crime underworld. That means part of her does too. If she had to choose between cats and crime I know - for now - she'd choose cats. If she changed her mind on that I'd change my mind on her.

Tommy, her husband, was a lieutenant in whatever organization he was in. I saw him only once and we mixed like oil and water even though hardly a word passed between us. Each recognized in the other an enemy found. We both (correctly) had the thought, "There's no living with that guy." Tommy was everything I'd dreaded he'd be: dark and at war with himself. That's what made him dangerous.

Don't kid yourself. Crime figures are nothing like in a Scorsese movie, killing people to a classic rock soundtrack while leading a self-satisfied life beyond that of "the suckers". Reality is it's those guys who are the suckers, perpetually seeking approval from society at large. Were their masks to be ripped off you'd see pathetic children holding out their arms in unrequited love. They think killing those who don't give it to them makes up for being a loser. Eh, fuggedaboutit.

The rationale they give is the "legitimate" world is just as bent as they are. No argument from me on that. But no quarter given either. That illegitimate life is on you, pal. Quit your whining. And I certainly sensed that same desperation and fear in Tommy even in the small whiff I got of him - the smell was that strong. That man was a train wreck waiting to happen. I had a feeling Emily was his enabler but comes a point where nothing and no one can help you no matter what.

Boy, do I know that.

I should have listened to my little voice but I was of two minds. On one hand I have a policy of never involving myself no matter how tangentially with people I have to babysit. Tommy certainly fit into that category. On the other, it's tiring playing musical chairs looking for perfection. So I gave Emily a pass and besides, I liked her. I once asked her a question I saw posed in a movie. "If a building was on fire and you had to choose between a Rembrandt or a cat which would you save?" She was instantaneous in her response, "Oh, the cat, of course." I could have kissed her!

I was also struck by another phrase Emily used. We were lightheartedly commiserating on our woes when she said, "I'm just a God away from happiness." Had to laugh at that one! Didn't think she had that sort of depth in her then she told me that's a phrase her husband often uses. Fuck, she got it from him. Well, maybe there was more to him than I thought.

I've been stuck in a galley slave's rut for so long I can barely see the point of getting up. Each dawn I die. It is this hell that is the beating heart of this planet. Rejoice when it finally dies. So I'm not playing with a whole lot of room for error. Leaving town pushes me right to the edge. My life hangs by a thread already and my nerves are beyond frayed. A wretched creature I be. And I know full well the universe likes to hit you where it hurts the most.

I just about lost it when Emily told me to meet her at her husband's restaurant bar when I got back in. Simone, my cat, was loose there. Rage was boiling over - both with myself and with her. Never trust the goddam universe! When I showed up what did I hear but "I'm gonna kill that fucking cat!" Somehow Emily and her dickhead husband had gotten into an argument and he was using Simone as leverage against her. Asshole thinks he can do just anything!

I was able to coax Simone into her cage and was calming her down when Emily begged a (useless) forgiveness. Then she left in tears. Tommy, however, decided to blame all the ills of his life on me. "I'm going to kill that cat." I looked up at him with hate in my eyes. "You wait and see. Don't think it's not going to happen." Then that fucker starts walking away.

"Oh, yeah? Well, why don't you do it now, motherfucker?" I had to make the calculations in a second. It was fight or die - just like the rest of my forsaken life.

"What did you say me? You know who you talking to?"

"I'm talking to a cocksucking prick you piece of shit." I knew I had to push his buttons.

"Why you - "

"Fuck you, you fucking cunt. Go run off and be your wife's bitch. Or maybe I should just write 'cocksucker' on your forehead, ya cocksucker!" To his mind there's no way I could possibly know of his dependence on Emily unless she had told me. The fires of jealousy exploded as he made his way towards me.

I can still see it all in my mind's eye. That blurry, mad face lurching towards me and I knew I'd only get one chance at this. Tommy wasn't a big guy but I was not a fighter. I had to commit myself one hundred percent. No room for self-pity or delusion. As he got close to me I throat punched him and he went down gagging. I didn't have anything specific planned after that but it came to me at that moment to karate chop the side of his neck and that just about killed him.

Uh, not that kind of lurching

That's when I took the opportunity to headlock him, squeezing out the breath until he'd never breath again. After he was dead I wanted to kill him again. I was furious at having been pushed into a corner and forced to do something against my will. And then in what I thought was a fitting bit of irony, I wrote "cocksucker" on his forehead. That would be his book of Revelation. But one thing I did feel: I had preserved life. I was still alive, after all. Then I cried clutching precious Simone's cage.

CODA: The run of thoughts that went through my mind ran the gamut that night. Had I, in fact, ended my own life? Would I be put in jail? I didn't feel that would happen but feelings don't count in a godless court of law. And what of Emily? Jesus, what had I done? I retraced the events over and over in my mind but couldn't find an alternate course of action.

I could hear the fool's arguments. I could have pretended to not notice the deadly certainty of his threat. I could have made a false truce to betray me. There were any number of phony solutions I could have chosen. I see fools choose them every day only to receive a bitter regret later that can't be undone. I'll leave that sort of behavior to voters and dilettantes. I choose Simone. I choose life.

It is also said those things done in accordance with the universe will be blessed. However pissed I was at being painted into a corner, I had to admit the wondrous and special feeling of finding that blessing to be absolutely true. Turns out, there really had been rumors of Tommy boy heading down the gay way! It's true his kind protect their own but this was like a government cover up to save scandal. To them it looked as if Tommy had been whacked out for homosexual behavior and no one wanted to be seen as protecting that. Finally, idiot politics working in my favor.

Now I must live with what I've faced. It's not an act I ever care to duplicate. Emily soon moved out of state (after thanking me for her freedom). Guess I need a new cat sitter.

My Brother's Keeper

Too late the morning

Flower frozen in night ice,

Grieving garden's sun.

"What's this supposed to mean?"

"It's a haiku."

"Need I remind you I'm the warden and you're the prisoner? Do you want to come clean on this or not?"

"Come clean how?"

"Writing is a privilege. They say we have to give you privileges but we can take them away too."

"I'm completely lost. Writing is a strain, it's very hard."

"Hard for you? How about your eight victims? How about their families? How hard is it for them? How would they feel to see you glorying in their pain?"

"That isn't about them."

"It's not? I can read the homonyms here. English was my major - unfortunately for you. 'Morning' should be 'mourning' and 'sun' should be 'son'. This is you mocking one of your victim's death."

"It's about me. Each night I die. After what I've done, how can there be hope? I killed because I was dead inside. But I only dug the hole deeper."

"Is that what the psychiatrist told you to say? I've heard all that crap before. If you want sympathy and forgiveness you're not going to get it here. You want to meet God? You're looking at him. I own your life. You see, I am my brother's keeper. And redemption is not to be had for a killer like you."

"I can give no argument. Everything is black."

"As black as a buried coffin, no doubt."

"I don't know what else to do. I'm not saying my writing has any value. I don't know what choice I have but to try and crawl back to the light. I'm not saying I deserve it."

"I'll be the judge of what you deserve. It is I who divines justice. There's a reason why I go home to a warm bed at night and you to a cold cell. Seems I need to make you understand that."

For good people only

"I understand I did my crimes."

"No! No! I don't think so. You are in my charge by the authority granted to me by God. I can do no wrong. But a slithering snake like you must stay in the dark - as dark as your victims' graves. That's what you need to understand."

"I'm lost, just trying to find my way. Sometimes, when I write, I feel I've done something. That I've made a connection. I'm not God. I have no way of knowing. It's probably wishful thinking. But it keeps pouring out of me."

"Filth! That's what keeps pouring out of you. I've been reading it for the past six months. And just for the record, I am God and know what is worthy and what is not. And I'm telling you, this is not."

"How can I know?"

"I'll show you how. Hanssen! Bring me a lighter." The guard stepping forward obliged from his front pocket. "I'm going to burn this notebook of yours and that will be the end of this now and forever. Through these flames I purify and make the world a better place. Now back to your cell!"

Hanssen spoke after the prisoner departed through the heavy metal door. "I thought you said one of your old writing contacts reviewed that notebook and thought it to be "shatteringly honest"."

"Yeah, so?"

"I though you was bringing him in here to let him know."

"Why the hell would I do that?"

"I dunno. Because it's the truth?"

"The truth! The truth is he's a killer and must be made to suffer."

"I thought vengeance is the Lord's."

"Did I not say that by divine right I sit here? The Lord's vengeance comes through me. Do you want him to turn into some sort of successful writer after what he's done? How could there be justice in that? I am a stalwart of the Good Book. I am my brother's keeper."

"But you're not supposed to be, right? Nobody owns nobody, I always says."

"I don't know where you get that nonsense from but it's got to stop. You've got everything backwards, Hanssen. I own that bastard and every other prisoner in this place. How else would I be allowed to do that but by the grace of God?"

"Maybe God's got nothing to do with it and it's just people letting you do it."

"Enough of your idiocy! I don't have time to educate you. The total tonnage of what you don't know could fill a mountain. End of discussion."

Hanssen shuffled his feet. "Well, I know what I felt."

The warden by this time was writing with his head down, having already mentally dismissed Hanssen. "Nobody cares what you feel..."

"I guess that's good then, 'cause all I could help feeling when you was burning that book was 'Too late the morning.'"

A Tale Of Two Criminals

This will sound crazy but it all started with me thieving this penknife. Still got it, I do. But me whole life went down the toilet in a chain reaction. I was just a kid then but even so I didn't see no future in dark Liverpool. Anything I got I had to make myself, I knew. It's tough like that, just you against the world, making your own way not giving thoughts to what folks thinks is right.

I had me a sometimes running mate named Johnny. He's the only one what got the nerve I has. Neither of us thought twice of shoplifting what we wanted. The world didn't think nothin' of us, we didn't think much of it either. Expectin' them to hand you somethin' is the surest way to get stuffed. Me and Johnny wasn't gonna let that happen.

But Johnny boy, he was of a different sort. He not let nothing possess him! So he shows off his new knife to everybody, using it like he sees fit till his aunt who he's living with sees it and busts him. She takes him by the ear back to the store, making him say he's sorry. But that Johnny, there's no stopping him! He nabs a candy bar all the while and our whole gang was laughing. "This time I'm safe," he says, "I ate the evidence!" We was just rolling about the place.

But that was Johnny, always doing what he wanted no matter what. He went on to be famous with his rock and roll, still just doing what he wanted. But me, I was having none of that. I got me knife and no way was I going to get busted. I kept it secret and I kept it mine - no matter what. Looking back, I was awful dumb. I didn't own that knife - it owned me.

Secrets are like chains. You ain't free - and you think you got a right reason not to be free. Like me. I had a good reason now for lying. Thing is I never stopped lying. Me and Johnny went separate ways after he took his knife back. What was common between us was gone. I still respected his nerve but we was seeing the other guy as dangerous. I started thinking the less of me but I'd of never admitted it. I wasn't admittin' nothin'!

I could blame a lot on bad luck but when you take a wrong turn bad shit is bound to happen. Kumar, that Indian, thinks he can mouth off to me. We English never shoulda freed them damn Indians. He was always worrying about what other people was thinking and he hates I stole that penknife. He's probably still out there trying to please mommy and daddy. But when he threatens to narc on me, well, he got what was coming to him.

I hadn't been in a fight before. Kumar just brought out the worst in me. My ma was all like, "How could you!" like a shot somebody or something. Pissed me off her taking it so damn hard! I shoulda learn then if I'd been thinking. She'd been lot less angry over the penknife if I'd been busted for that than for the fighting. Plus I'd be free too. So by trying not to get in trouble for one thing I got in more trouble for another!

But I wasn't thinking like that. I was thinking Kumar was the source of me troubles. And that means you gotta fight. Anytime after that I had any trouble I used me fists. I was thinking I had to like it was life and death. That one little secret steamrolled on me. I was convinced solid if you couldn't get away with nothin' in life you was doomed. Just shut up the Kumars of the world and you'd be fine. Trouble was there's always one more Kumar.

I was gifted as a burglar. What was crippling to me in school was a blessing on the outside. Having always to figure things out for yourself makes the holes in other people show up like x-rays. To every building there's a psychology. I got real good at reading that and things just sort of fell into place. I was respected by my peers. But I was walking a tightrope.

For a while there I was on top. Walking down the street with all them suckers slaving away. I felt dumber than them in school cause I couldn't think the way the teachers wanted me to. But now I sees them as the idiots. Damn them for conning me! What a terrible thing to do to a child. Ate me alive. I just had to feel like I could get away something. It proved I was worthwhile.

Even the secrets got to be like familiar friends. With every job I was adding to the heap. Didn't need no drugs, that was its own natural high. "Normal" people was beyond boring. They didn't have nothin' to say! I was watching Johnny from afar, proud of him still sticking it to them, tellin' them to rattle their jewelry. Priceless! I was hoping Johnny would be just as proud of me too making my own way. The world is a criminal enterprise, yes sir.

It wasn't the stealing that made me a criminal. I never had no guilt about that. Some did, some didn't. Those that did didn't last every long. I called them "Kumars". Weak-brained, never taking a stand. But what did get me was the idea of getting caught. That penknife secret was still with me - not that I was ever much conscious about it. All I knew was I had to be free. But I couldn't just leave well enough alone.

It's not bad luck finding a dame. I have to keep reminding myself that. Me burgling had me feeling smart but how would that play with her? I had me convinced I was worthwhile but if the love of my life shot me down I'd never survive it. Wasn't until too late I find out she believed in me and understood what I had to do. I wanted to believe that, I wanted to believe with all me heart. I just didn't have the guts to find out. So I repeats that same pattern of spending a thousand trying to get out of paying a hundred. It really hurts bad saying all this.

One of things I remember when I was pounding Kumar was thinking, "You ain't white. You don't count like I do." I should have growed out of that because I know it's dumb. But really, I was just looking for an excuse for what I'd done. I'd never made peace with it. Never told him I was sorry. That was one thing Johnny had more guts than me. He'd say he's sorry, even if it did take a while. Guess what I'm trying to say is this all played into me killing Julio.

Julio wasn't going to rat me out. It was more of that "bad luck". His sister was dating a cop and he had these immigration troubles and...well, I took two and two and came up with five. I couldn't let go of it, I was counting on the lies to save me. I feared going to jail, away from the love of my life. Without the missing of her I might have been able to handle it but me head was spinning and I was taking no chances. I shot him during a job and went on the lam. I told myself maybe they wouldn't be so angry cause Julio wasn't white.

But there wasn't no place to run to, not in the whole of the world. Julio's sister ended up marrying that cop and he made it his personal mission to hound me. More bad luck. The longer I stayed un-captured the more I had to lie. The more I had to lie the less free I was. Then I heard a Johnny song saying, "One thing I can tell you is you got to be free." Much as it hurt, I had to face up to me crimes if I ever wanted to be free. Wish I'd realized that when it was just a chewing out for boosting a penknife.

For being a slow learner I got 14 years. I wrote my love a few times but she didn't respond. Now I just write her in me head, when I'm lying down at night still wasting life trying to explain myself. How do I let go of this deep secret? I thought I wasn't good enough. I hoped that a valid reason to lie. I know this will sound crazy but I could have been an honest burglar. I just didn't want to give up my excuses. I really just wanted to live, is all.