Riven - Jerry B. Jenkins [57]
The cells were arranged five side by side, with another five directly above them, a single shower stall at one end, and the exercise area at the other. The ten-cell units were arranged in a circle of six, clustered around a two-story watchtower. From the tower, which Yanno called the observation unit, corrections officers could see into all sixty cells.
“The locks are controlled from within the tower, but each man’s house also has a manual locking device, so we’re talking triple security. When an officer is extracting a prisoner for a shower, a meeting, the work assignment, or his daily one-hour visit to the exercise kennel, he signals the tower first. The electronic lock is disengaged for that one cell; then the officer must remove the manual lock before using his key for the main lock.”
“Did you call the exercise area a kennel?”
Yanno nodded. “I probably shouldn’t, because the bleeding hearts would just love to quote me that way. But it’s a ten-by-twenty-foot, two-story, fenced-in area with fresh-air grates in the ceiling. Certain times of the day a man can catch a glimpse of the sun through there, but usually, no way. As you can see, it looks like a big kennel.”
As they strolled, Thomas was struck that so many of the inmates—all wearing white T-shirts, khaki pants, and soft slippers—were living in the dark. Many had clothing draped over their lights, and paper hung even over some of the four-inch-wide windows cut vertically near the top of each cell.
“I don’t get it,” he said. “You’d think with the lack of a view of the outside, they’d want all the light they can have.”
“Isn’t there something in the Bible about that, Reverend? Something about men living in darkness because their deeds are evil? Russ tells me you’ve got the whole Bible memorized, or something like that.”
“Well, not the whole thing. But, yes, I know that verse. And the ones around it. ‘There is no judgment against anyone who believes in Him. But anyone who does not believe in Him has already been judged for not believing in God’s one and only Son. And the judgment is based on this fact: God’s light came into the world, but people loved the darkness more than the light, for their actions were evil. All who do evil hate the light and refuse to go near it for fear their sins will be exposed. But those who do what is right come to the light so others can see that they are doing what God wants.’”
“Wow,” Yanno said. “That’s impressive.”
“If you’ll indulge me, Warden, there’s another passage that speaks to this.”
“Fire away.”
“Zechariah, the father of John the Baptist, said, ‘And you, my little son, will be called the prophet of the Most High, because you will prepare the way for the Lord. You will tell his people how to find salvation through forgiveness of their sins. Because of God’s tender mercy, the morning light from heaven is about to break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, and to guide us to the path of peace.’”
Yanno cleared his throat. “Was your voice breaking there?”
Thomas nodded but could not respond. He had been warned about being soft, yet now he found himself on the edge of tears, praying his lips wouldn’t quiver and give him away. All these men—these sad, lonely, desperate men—caged, hapless, hopeless, lost. His heart broke over them, and he hadn’t met a single one.
“I’m gonna tell you one more time, Carey. You can’t let ’em see your soft side. Now I know that goes against all they teach you in seminary and stuff, but just by the nature of your job, these guys already assume you’re an easy mark. Don’t prove ’em right, whatever you do, or we’ll be looking for another chaplain before the end of the month.”
21
Adamsville State Penitentiary
To Thomas Carey, the difference between