Wrestling With God

by Hanley, Don;

  I had not seen Joe push the call button, but two nurses came rushing into the room. The older of the two angrily shouted, "What is going on here? Are you three disturbing our patient? I order all of you to get out of this room immediately!"

  When we were in the hall, J.J. said, "Do you think we should explain to them what kind of patient they are dealing with?"

  Jack shook his head and I said, "No, I don't think so. It really doesn't have anything to do with their work here. I'm pretty sure no children will be running around that this jerk can hurt. And he isn't capable of doing anything, anyway."

  Jack added, "I think he is out of his mind. He is completely delusional."

  J.J. said, "Well, I don't know about you two, but I've learned a hell of a lot today ... about how lousy human beings can be. And Jack, I haven't lost faith in you. For you to have survived idiots like these, I admire you even more. And as awful as the day has been, thank you both for letting me accompany you."

  We were silent as we headed to St. Louis. About half an hour into the trip, Jack said, "Rebecca, would you explain to Kathy that I am her uncle?"

  "Yes, Jack, I will, and I'll let you know her reaction." Our goodbyes were our only other words on that trip. I was wondering how I would put our day into my article about Joe, the priest-predator-pedophile. Oh hell, I was even wondering what I would tell Jerry about this fucking day.

  Chapter 23

  JERRY

  In my home office, I had finished reading Rebecca's article about our attempted high-jacking that nearly got me killed, when she and Kathy Brassley came in. I congratulated Rebecca on the article and thanked her for making me look like a genuine hero. As I got up from behind the desk, I said, "Have you told Kathy what we wanted to talk to her about?"

  "No, I thought I'd leave that up to you, my old brave one." She plunked down on the love seat and I took the remaining soft chair facing them, "Well, Kathy, did Rebecca tell you about your father?"

  "You mean that he is that idiot priest, Father Joe, in Belleville?" I nodded and she added, "Yes, she did."

  "And did she then tell you that that makes you Jack Carroll's niece?"

  She put a hand over her mouth, "Oh, God, no. Really?" She looked at Rebecca, who nodded, and started bawling. Rebecca put an arm around her and let her cry.

  Kathy had done what Rebecca and I had done—she separated the men so far apart that she had not connected them. After several minutes, she asked, "Now, what does that mean? Are you telling me I need to move out of your house, or what?"

  Rebecca and I had not decided what we were going to do with her. One option was for us to adopt her. Julie had suggested that and because they had gotten along so well, that was a possibility. Another was for us to become her foster parents, which would be easier, legally. Another was just to be let the Belleville Social Services Department do whatever they thought best for her and say "good-bye." As the days had gone by, the last option seemed more impossible; she had become part of the family. I even heard Julie introducing her as "my sister."

  Rebecca handed her a tissue and said, "We haven't gotten that far, Kathy. Jack hadn't thought of it at all, until I realized it on our trip yesterday. He didn't say anything except asking me if I had told you about it. So now you know. He is your only relative as far as we know. Did your mother have any close relatives who might want you to live with them?"

  "Not that I know of. She never mentioned anyone and we never visited anyone, nor did anyone visit us, So .?"

  I asked, "So, Kathy, what would you like to do?"

  "That's easy, I'd like to live with you guys. I love being here. I love you both, and I love Julie and April. It's like I have a real home for the first time in my life. Please don't make me move out, please?"

  Rebecca said, "Well, as far as I'm concerned, you are welcome to stay as long as you like. Whoever is handling your case in Belleville hasn't said a word. I told the police there that I was taking you home with me and I haven't heard anything since. I imagine they told whomever necessary at their county offices and they hope you are safe and okay." She took Kathy's chin and pointed it up at her and gave her a kiss. "So, sweetie, you are welcome to stay as long as you like."

  Rebecca looked over at me and I said, "So, Kathy, I guess we should kick you out on the street, don't you?" She looked really scared and Rebecca kicked me in the leg, and I added, "I'm sorry, Kathy. I'm joking. Someday, you'll learn that I have what Rebecca calls a sick sense of humor. I love you and I'm happy that you are with us."

  Julie opened the door and ran into the room, "Me too, Kathy, I'm glad you are with us." She squeezed in between the two on the love seat and put an arm around Kathy. Kathy needed two more tissues. April ran into the room and joined the group, followed by Plato who seemed to know what was happening and put his paw on Kathy's leg.

  The next day, a Monday, I hitched a ride to Booneville with Sonia. Driving any distance hurt my shoulder and it was good to spend some one-on-one time with her. We arrived early enough for me to get a report from Dan McGuire on how my group had done. Soon after we arrived, Warden Bonhoeffer, J.J., and Jack joined us. The warden asked how I was and thanked all four of us for our excellent and quick work "out on the highway." He also informed us that the two guards who were wounded, revealed, for a reduction of their criminal charges, the names of four drug dealers who they had been working with. This led to a larger national organization the FBI had been looking for. So our efforts and trauma was very worthwhile. It didn't help my shoulder physically, but it did pick up my spirits.

  We discussed our progress on the reform project and decided to have the initial interviews for our second group this week and our next workshop in two weeks. We broke for lunch and afterwards met with the entire group of twenty-four. It took only a few minutes to make announcements before breaking into groups.

  Dan joined us to thank "my" group for their cooperation while he subbed for me and then left it to me.

  I said, "Well, gang, did you miss me?"

  "Na-a-a-a-a." One fellow shouted "How come two of the groups have pretty girls and we're stuck with you?" Another grinned and declared, "If I was as big and ugly as you are, I'd go bear hunting with a stick."

  "Thank you all for the warm welcome. Seriously, when we were planning the program, we figured that everyone would like to have one of the women be their leader, so in a few weeks, we'll re-group and you'll have your chance. And believe me, they are tough enough to go hunting without a stick."

  Earl Salman, the 6' 9" African-American, said, "That's true, if what we've heard about your work out on the highway really happened."

  "Believe me, it did. So now let's get to work. As you know, one of the tasks we've been working on is developing trust and ability to work together, so to catch me up on that, Earl, tell me something you've learned about two of your fellow group members. I'll ask each of you to share what you've learned about one or two others. Please don't respond to what is said to or about you until everyone has had a chance to speak. You'll get your chance later. So, back to you, Earl. Tell us a bit about Mark Schwartz and his life and story."

  Earl sat up straight and towered even more over everyone. He began, "First when we started a while back, I was sure that I'd never trust a white dude in a uniform, but, I've changed my mind. Mark grew up on a farm and worked his ass off after his dad got killed in Vietnam." Earl stopped for a minute. I suspect it was out of respect for Mark's dad. "He is the oldest child in his family and has two brothers and two sisters. He became a prison guard because he didn't have enough college to be a policeman. He needed to get a job to help his mom and one brother who is handicapped and is stuck in a wheel chair." At this, Earl got choked up and paused. He took a deep breath and continued, "He got interested in law enforcement after his little sister was raped and he beat the shit out of the bastard who did it. He hopes that this prison reform idea works. I like this guy - white and uniform be damned."

  Mark was sitting two seats beyond Earl, so I could see hi
s reaction to the recitation. He had tensed up at the beginning, choked up at the mention of his sister's rape, and then nodded and whispered a "thank you," at the end.

  I was moved and clapped and the others joined me. "Thank you, Earl. Now, who would you like to be your second pick?"

  "I've gotten to know everyone in the group a lot better, but now I'll choose Jose Mendoza. Jose has three brothers and two sisters, two are older and three younger. The three oldest came to the U.S. from El Salvador when Jose was three years old. They settled down near Springfield, Missouri. Jose didn't learn English until he started school. His mom and dad had three more children and both parents worked in a dairy farm. The farm had seven hundred or so milk cows. Jose says he wasn't a very good student and he screwed around in high school and got involved with a bunch of no-goods when he was eighteen. He says he was driving the get-away-car when the two guys he was with were robbing a bank and they killed a bank teller. All three were caught and the two who went into the bank, one got a life sentence and the other, the one who killed the bank guy, was sentenced to death. He's still on death row. Jose got twenty years. He's been here for four years. Oh, and he has taken two courses toward his GED since he met Doc Carroll."

  Jose seemed to be attentive and appreciative of Jake's narration. Again, we all clapped. "Thank you, Earl. You are setting a high bar for sensitively sharing your thoughts and digesting these dramatic stories. Now, Jose, who would you like to hear from for two more reports?"

  He looked around the group and selected Bruce Leland, the only white inmate. "Bruce, I really would like to hear what your life has been like because you have been pretty quiet."

  Bruce was the total opposite of Earl. Besides being white, he was 5' 6", skinny, and as shy as Earl was out-going. He immediately turned pink and stammered, "Uh, okay, but talking ain't easy fer me. First, I'll choose Humberto Garcia. I'm choosing you, Humberto, because I was afraid of you at first because you seemed so tough and so sure of yourself. Then, that second day, when we took a break, you said to me that I didn't need to be afraid 'cause all of us are afraid, but you've just learned how to act tough. Boy, that helped me a lot. That was the first time in my life that I realized that everyone somewhere along the line begins to put on a front that is different than they really are. Then you told us that you got into selling drugs in St. Louis and that was the dumbest thing you ever did. That made me feel better because that, selling drugs, is why I'm here, and, yeah, it was really dumb. Uh, I better really be honest and say, I really didn't sell drugs, I was more just a delivery boy. And another thing, Humberto, I really like seeing your whole family come to visit you on visiting day." Bruce got teary-eyed when he added, "I never have anybody come visit me."

  I clapped for Bruce and made a mental note to pay close attention to his development for, at the moment, he was the least likely one to become any kind of counselor.

  Jose chose Steve Murray as his second person. Steve was the second African-American and was as opposite Earl as Bruce was. He was short, chubby and shy. Jose began, "I chose you, Steve, because some things you say and do or have done, reminds me of me. And at the same time, like Bruce, you have a hard time sharing with us. So I'd like for us to get to know you better. That first day we met here in this room, I saw that you never said a word which made me feel better because that meant I wasn't the only one. You also told us that you were very close to your mama and that was good because you knew somebody, somewhere, loves you, and it was bad because you became too dependent on your mama. I, too, was a 'mama's boy,' but, unlike you, I would never have told anyone in the world that I was too dependent on my mama. So, thank you, man, for that. I had two sisters who were older and you had two brothers who were older. I guess I'd like to get to know you better and maybe I could learn some things from a guy who was bullied at home and school. I have to admit I don't remember what you are in prison for doing."

  We gave Steve a hand and I added him to a list with Bruce as someone who needed special attention. "So, we've heard about Mark, Jose, Bruce, Humberto, and Steve. You selected the first two speakers, Earl, but you haven't told us about yourself yet. So I choose you."

  "Okay, first, I want to tell you all that Doc Carroll saved my life here in this place. I grew up in Jefferson City, our state capital. But you all know that. I had no live-in daddy. My mama called him my sperm giver. I did have an asshole of a step-dad who helped give me three half-sisters. I was ten years older than the oldest and they treated me like I was their uncle. I did graduate from high school, but just barely. My grades were piss-poor, but I did work at a grain company and made pretty good money as a truck driver and then as a foreman. Of course, all of the workers I ordered around like the asshole of a boss I was, were Hispanic or black like me. I sure as hell could not be a black dude ordering white guys around. I got married and I got real lucky and managed to get the sweetest, prettiest, most hard-working woman in the world. We had two little girls as pretty as their mama. Then one day we was driving home from church on a Sunday morning and a drunk cracker drove his little truck past a red light right into the side of our car. Our baby girls were spared but he killed my wonderful wife. I jumped out the car and that dude staggered toward me and he said, proud as a peacock, "Guess I rid the world of another nigger."

  I muttered, "Oh, my God. No!" Others were similarly stunned and uttered words I didn't hear.

  Earl said, "Oh, God yes! I grabbed this bastard who was tall as me, and about a hundred pounds heavier, and I threw his sorry ass against the front of his little truck and I beat him till he was dead as a skunk." Earl, looked around the table with tears in his eyes and added, "And that's the reason I'm in this joint. Oh yeah, my trial for second degree murder had an all-white jury, of course. I been here for nine years and have ten or so to go."

  I could not clap after a story like this. We all were quiet for a full two or three minutes and then, I said, "Thanks, Earl, I didn't know all this. Thanks for trusting us enough to tell us a bit of your story. It also makes me ashamed of our so-called justice system." I also thought that I'd encourage the St. Louis University's Innocence Project to look into Earl's case.

  We took a break and then spent the last hour discussing our thoughts and feelings about the stories we had heard that afternoon. I wanted to thank Dan for the great work bringing about the trust these guys had shown one another. I hoped that the other groups had done as well.

  The four of us did meet briefly before stopping for the day. Sonia suggested that we come up with some ideas about creating activities that would bring a bit of joy for the inmates. J.J. snapped her fingers and said, "Like music! " I thought that would take some real doing, but maybe ...

  Chapter 24

  JERRY

  "Get outta my way, nigger." The speaker was Mike Castro, a small, wiry fellow from Honduras. He was pushing Paul Minor, a huge African-American guard, into the door frame.

  Before Mike could turn around, Minor picked him up and held him up so they were eye-to-eye, "Don't you ever call me 'nigger' again, little boy, or I'll break your neck. Hear me?"

  By the time our team could get to the door, Paul had banged Mike's head against the wall. Rather than being subdued, Mike kicked Paul in the groin. "I ain't afraid of you, you big gorilla."

  This time, Paul smashed his head against the wall so hard, Mike seemed to pass out. Paul dropped him to the floor. Sonia knelt down and, in Spanish, told him to stay still. She looked up at us and said, "Call the medics, I'm sure he has a concussion, maybe even a broken neck. He seems to be breathing okay."

  We gently scooted Mike a few feet from the door, so the rest of the group could enter. The two fellows who had guard duty had their guns out but the five guards on the team, silently and easily, kept order without needing guns. They didn't have their guns with them for our meeting.

  I asked Jose Mendoza, who was Mike's closest friend, to come sit by me and we both sat on either side of Paul. Paul was breathing hard and working to be somehow relaxed. "I hope I d
idn't kill the little bastard. Jose, do you have any idea what was going on with him?"

  The paramedics arrived and attended to Mike. I asked Jose to join Sonia over near Mike and the medics, and he left. Paul said, "Sorry I lost my cool, Jerry. I really have no idea what the hell is going on with Mike. He was standing by the door when I came down the hall. He seemed to be waiting for me and when I got to the door he motioned for me to go ahead of him and when I did, he pushed me aside and tried to get past me. That's when he called me 'nigger.' I can't think of any kind of bad shit that has gone on between us. I thought he fit well with the other fellows you all selected for the team. So, I'm lost. I think Jose knows him better than anyone else around here. Maybe he can help us."

  Sonia waved me over and asked, "Mike started murmuring something in Spanish before he was sedated. I would like to accompany him to the infirmary, okay?"

  I nodded. "I'll call Dan McGuire to join you in the infirmary and then come up here if he can. I want the groups to meet. Please keep me posted as to how he is doing, okay?"

  She followed the medics and gurney to the elevator.

  I called Dan and told him what happened and added, "I understand that the usual thing to do after an incident like this, is to put a person like Mike in solitary. If Mike does not need to go to a hospital, I hope that you can change that, so he can be put in a cell with Jose Mendoza, an inmate who knows him best. Is that possible?" Dan said he'd see what he could do.

  I went back to Jose and Paul. The rest of the guys were sitting around. I caught Jack and J.J.'s eyes and they joined me. I told them to assemble their groups and that I'd ask Ted Torres, Sonia's inmate group rep, to lead the discussion with her guys. I suggested that they discuss everyone's reaction to what had just happened as well as the planned topic on how to increase our trust with one another. After my group got assembled, I asked Jake to take the lead while I met briefly with Ted Torres and the two guards in Sonia's bunch.