Untitled (standard:drama, 2418 words)
Author: Christina Rodriguez	Added: Jul 07 2005	Views/Reads: 3729/2256	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
“On the charges of murder in the first degree and the sexual assault of Madison Raye, we the jury find the defendant, Keagan Brooklyn Arnold, guilty.”

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piercing stares of some of the inmates that hadn't had visitors in 
years, and into the visitation room. He tried hard to ignore the 
crashing of the gates behind him and pretend he was walking into 
Sadie's bedroom, her waiting eagerly for help with her latest art. The 
guard removed the handcuffs when the gate had been shut, but he was 
still closely watched. 

“Keagan!” Sadie squealed and ran up to him, barely waiting for him to
kneel down to her level before throwing her arms around him. “I brought 
your coloring stuff, but the guard took it away.” 

“It's ok, Sadie. It's probably sitting on my bed waiting for me right
now. How're things going at school?” 

“Fine,” she said, avoiding his eyes. 

“Sadie, I know you better be keeping your grades up,” Keagan said,
looking up with concern at their mother. 

“Oh, her grades are fine,” Mrs. Arnold interjected. “Miss Sadie here got
written up last week.” Keagan looked back at Sadie, her soft brown eyes 
full of passion and fire. 

“Craig Lane said that you're a pervert and a psycho, so I hit him
because I know that you didn't hurt that girl.” 

“Now, Sadie, don't you go getting in fights over me. You just tell him
that God knows who done what and that no matter what, we'll all get 
what we deserve. You tell him that for me, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

“And how about you, Ma — how are you holding up?” 

“It's been tough, you know, with your dad gone and all. But Sadie's a
good girl; I never have to worry about her. When's this lawyer going to 
come though? It's been three months since sentencing. What's going on?” 


“Mr. Schultz says these things can take years, Ma. He's trying hard.
He's got all his interns on it.” 

“I know, but it just doesn't seem like enough.” 

“Time's up,” the guard said from the corner, walking toward Keagan with
the handcuffs. 

“I gotta go. I love you, Ma,” he said, holding her, and then he turned
and knelt to Sadie. “I love you, too, Sadie.” 

“I love you too. Draw me something when they give you your stuff, okay?”


“You got it Sadie,” he said as the officer cuffed him. 

“Bye Ma. Bye Sadie,” he said, beginning the lonely walk back to his
cell. 

***************** 

“Hey, Brody. It's about time we did something with Keagan, don't you
think?” 

“What do you mean?” Brody replied from his bed in the next cell. 

“What do I mean!” Jay returned. “The guy killed a little girl and still
gets to see his little sister now and again.” 

“Oh, and what are you in for, Saint Jay? The guy's already gonna fry for
it.” 

“I'm not talking about hurting him none, Brody, just putting the fear of
God in the boy. That's all.” 

“You're the one that needs the fear of God knocked into you. Now, can
it, Jay.” 

The gates crashed as Keagan was brought back to the cells. Once inside
his cell, the handcuffs were undone and he turned to find his sketch 
pad and pencils on the bed, just as he'd told Sadie they would be. He 
flipped through and on the second page, he found Sadie's note. Tears in 
his eyes, Keagan gently ripped the page from the spiral binding and 
propped in gently against the wall. He looked through the bars to see 
how close the guard was, hoping to have the chance to ask him for tape, 
but he was far at the other end of the hall. So Keagan laid on the bed 
and closed his eyes and he could almost hear Sadie's sweet soprano 
singing along in the pew with the church choir. She always belted it 
with the choir and couldn't wait until she could join later in the fall 
when she turned thirteen. 

Keagan on the verge of sleep, the guard walked by and announced that it
was time for dinner. 

********** 

The mess hall was about half full of orange-clad inmates and lined with
guards. Some held rifles across their chests, others appeared unarmed, 
but were, in fact, armed with pistols at their thigh and mace at their 
hip. The high, barred windows in the white walls let in a little 
sunlight and the room smelled like school lunch turkey slabs and gravy. 
Inmates sat three to a table at tables meant for six and were 
constantly watched by armed guards 

The guards were there to defend against fights. They broke out maybe
once a month, usually not even big enough for the heavy artillery to 
even be threatened to be put into use. Rarely did the fights escalate 
to more than a busted lip or bruised knuckle and injured jail-house 
pride. 

Keagan picked up his dinner tray from the service line and thanked the
lady, as his mom had always taught him to. 

He sat at a table, fairly isolated and began to eat. Hunched forward
with his arm around the tray, as he'd become accustomed to eating 
within his first week when an inmate stole his lunch and he was denied 
more. So consumed with eating before someone tried to steal it, Keagan 
didn't even see Jay approaching at his left. 

Not holding a tray, Jay stuck out and the guards took notice. 

“Stop! Weapon!” one guard yelled as Jay raised his arm over Keagan. 

Keagan jerked, turning toward the rest of the cafeteria and,
consequently, Jay. Jay stabbed, hitting Keagan in the left bicep, 
instead of his chest. 

Jay tried to pull it out and make another stab, but Keagan pushed him
away, opting to leave the modified toothbrush in his arm rather than 
give jay another shot. He backed away, giving the guards plenty of room 
to ambush and handcuff Jay. 

Blade scraping the bone, Keagan was escorted the prison infirmary, where
the registered nurse would decide if he needed hospital attention. 

Keagan stopped short, just outside the door. 

“Mr. Arnold, please keep moving,” the guard said, sounding annoyed at
yet another interruption of his otherwise routine daily schedule. 

The shock of pain and the blood loss finally showing its effect, Keagan
passed out. Falling to the right, his head collided with the butt of 
the rifle, sending it flying from the guard's unsuspecting hands, but 
saved from a noisy fall by the strap around the guard's neck. 

********************* 

Keagan woke up to a rhythmic beeping and reached his right arm up to
clear his eyes. His motion was suddenly halted by something on his 
wrist. He reluctantly opened his eyes against the fluorescence and sat 
up slightly to see the handcuffs attaching him to his bed rail. 

Keagan groaned, instantaneously remembering the attack and realizing the
pain in his left arm and noticing a certain tenderness in the right 
side of his head, though he couldn't recall the source of the latter. 

“Ahh...Mr. Arnold, you're awake,” a man said from the corner. “I'm
Corporal Dave Austin with the prison. I've been sent to keep an eye on 
you while you're here. 

Keagan grunted in response, in too much pain to talk, then managed,
“Does ma know I'm here?” 

“No, just your lawyer, Mark Schultz.” 

“Could I call momma and let her know? I don't want her to find out from
somebody else.” 

“I'm sorry, I can't allow you to make calls on unmonitored lines. I can
call her if you'd like,” offered Corporal Austin. 

“Please. Just explain why I'm not calling, too, please. Otherwise,
she'll be scared that I'm hurt bad.” 

****************** 

“Keagan, I'm going to be honest. I'm not sure how to make this go away,
but I think I can get this extended some. Bide some time, you know?” 
Mr. Schultz said. “I've got one of my newer interns, Mora Campbell, 
building a case citing negligence on the part of this facility, 
resulting in your injury. If Mora does her job well, and I know she 
will, the ensuing investigation will buy us nearly a year.” 

“I understand how it will stir up trouble, but how will it bide me
time?” 

“You'd be a primary witness in a federal case. It'll buy us at least a
year to get the sentence repealed.” 

“If that's what you think will help. I'm just a twenty-one year old guy.
I was just living home with momma and majoring in secondary education. 
I don't know law. That's all you, man.” 

“Mora will be here tomorrow to talk to you about what happened and to
get to know you some. I've got to go get some information together.” 

“Thanks, Mr. Schultz.” 

“Oh, come on, Keagan. We've worked together more than a year now. You
can call me Mark.” 

“Yeah, I know. It's just a force of habit in here.” 

“I know. Keep your chin up! And get some rest; it'll help you heal.” 

“I'll do that, Doc,” Keagan quipped with a chuckle. “See ya around,
Mark. Thanks.” 

“Bye, Keagan,” the lawyer said with a handshake. 

********************* 

Keagan walked down the hall, the smell of turkey wafting around the
white cinder block halls. The sky outside the small, barred windows was 
grey and overcast and it looked like it might be about to snow. Inmates 
filed obediently to the cafeteria for their Christmas Eve dinner, and 
Keagan looked forward to tomorrow, when his mother and sister would 
come visit him. 

The sound of voices singing joined the fragrance of basted turkey in the
halls, and Keagan walked into the cafeteria, quickly getting into line 
as the guards rushed them to get their food and sit down. As he sat, he 
glanced up at the choir singing in the corner of the room, guarded by 
three armed men. 

“I walk through the garden alone, while the dew is still on the
roses...” 

The sound of The Garden faintly registered in Keagan's mind. He opened
his carton of milk, wishing that he could hear Sadie sing in the church 
choir. She'd been singing in it for nearly three months now. 

“This next one,” he heard a sweet young voice say, “has always been my
brother's favorite.” 

The choir started to sing. “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that
saved a wretch like me.” 

The song was half over before Keagan realized that they were singing his
favorite, and he looked up to sing along. He didn't hear the end of the 
song, because when he looked up, he locked eyes with a young girl who'd 
been singing in the choir for three months, the girl that had 
introduced the song. 

Sadie's deep brown eyes pierced into Keagan's heart and he started to
cry. Sadie and Keagan weren't allowed to talk, but he never broke his 
eyes away from hers. He'd even forgotten to eat. 

They continued to sing songs of hope and inspiration, some inmates even
joining their voices, but Keagan never heard the voices. All he saw was 
Sadie. 

“Special thanks to the local Baptist Church for lending us their voices
this Christmas Eve. You'll now be escorted back to your cells,” the 
head guard declared over the microphone. Reluctantly, Keagan turned to 
go back out into the dark halls, but before he left, he turned back and 
blew Sadie a kiss, and caught the one she sent back. 


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