Riding the Lightning

[Rael]

This is one of my finished, or as close to finished as it gets, pieces. I don't mind criticism, I welcome it actually, but please make it constructive.


Riding the Lightning
Matt Schneider
3-21-2005

The day moved as slowly as ever, each second an hour, each hour an eternity. You don’t know what waiting is like until you’re waiting to die, with nothing to do but think. Sitting in my cell, I look at the numerous drawings on the wall, my last piece of evidence that I exist. There is only one day left until my day comes, when I will be punished for what I did not do.
The door at the end of the hall opened, and Harry came walking through. He held a canister and what looked like a liquor flask in his hands. “Hey, Harry,” I said to him as he pulled up a chair and sat down outside the bars.
“How you doing?” Harry asked.
“Just waiting for my time. I’m ready.” I looked up at Harry and gave him a forced smile. Harry was my last friend, the last man who believed in my innocence. Even though I knew everyone else would kill me if they got the chance, he didn’t want to. To bad he couldn’t do anything about it. “What do you have there?”
“Your lunch,” he said, unscrewing the lid on the canister. When it opened, I could smell an extremely enticing aroma. My mouth began to water instantly. “I thought maybe you would like something else besides hard bread and water for your last night,” he said, handing me the canister and a spoon.
“Thanks,” I said, with a real smile this time. I took a bite and tasted the single greatest beef stew of my life. Maybe it had something to do with the fact I had eaten bread for the past two months, but it was good. I had to be careful not to eat it too fast. I wanted to savor it as long as I could. “Where’d you get this?” I asked.
“My wife made it. It’s her specialty,” Harry answered with a grin.
“Well there’s a very good reason why. It’s great”
“I got something else for you.” A grim expression came over his face before he did. “Now you know I’m not supposed to be giving you that stew in the first place. I would be fired for sure and possibly prosecuted. If you tell anyone that I gave you this, I could be in very serious trouble.” He handed me the flask and I opened it.
I took a drink and tasted wine, a pretty good wine. “It’s great.” I looked him in the eyes and told him, “After all you have done for me, I would never turn you in. You know that.”
“Yeah, I know. I just have a family to worry about.”
“How many people have been put to the chair by you?” I asked. It was no use dancing around the subject anymore. I wanted it to be out there and in the open. I was tired of hiding from it.
“Man, you don’t want to talk about this-“
“You have no idea what I want to talk about,” I said a little too sternly. Harry was a good guy, but I wanted a straight answer.
“I’ve done a lot,” said Harry. He looked down at the floor. “I never counted, tried not to remember, but I can’t. It’s impossible not to remember the faces of those you killed.” He looked up at me. “You will be the next in my list, and I hate to say that, but that’s how it is. I don’t want to do it, but I am. I’m sorry.”
“I know, Harry.” I looked up at him. “You’re just doing your job.”
I sat and remembered the last time I saw my family. It’s been almost nine months since I last saw them . . .

Opening the paper I saw the chilling headline: Local Girl Raped and Murdered.
“I can’t believe what people are capable of doing sometimes,” I said to Virginia, my wife. Reading down the article I was surprised to see how close to home the murder had taken place.
“I know,” said Virginia, “plus it’s really creepy how close to home it happened. This is a good neighborhood.” She sipped her morning coffee and gave me a cup while she sat down. We loved the neighborhood we lived in; it was quiet and friendly, with really good neighbors who also had children of their own our kids got along with. “You don’t think we need to worry about John and Emily, do you?” Virginia said with a worried look.
“No. I’m sure whoever did this is long gone. I just hope they catch him.”
Reassured, she yelled for the kids to come down and get breakfast before going to school. “I don’t think we should say anything to the kids,” Virginia told me.
“Why not? They’re going to have to face reality at some point in their lives. You can’t protect them forever.”
“I know, but there is no reason they need to confront reality because of this,” she said with a pleading look.
“Okay, I won’t say anything.” Looking at my watch I realized I was running late. “I got to go. I have an early meeting.”
“Okay. Bye,” my wife said after giving me a goodbye kiss.
“Bye,” I said.
If I would have known this was my last time seeing her, I would have said more.

[Rael]

* * *
Later that day, I sat at the round table fighting off the urge to fall asleep. The boss was up front droning on about bad sales reports and good sales reports and okay sales reports and sales reports of all different kinds that are just as boring. Ever since walking in the door of the building I had a bad feeling, like it was going to be a bad day. Maybe it’s just this idiotic meeting I thought to myself while trying to fight off the boredom-induced coma. As my eyes were finally shutting for the last time, the door to the small conference room burst open, two cops coming in.
It all happened so fast; the next thing I realized was that I was in an interrogation room at the police station.

“We know you did it,” said detective Kole. He through pictures of the body on the table and I looked away. Another mistake. I couldn’t do anything right. I tried answering truthfully first, and then tried lying, and then did a little of both but the cops didn’t care. They had their rapist it seemed. It was me.
“Can’t handle seeing your own work, huh?” said the detective.
“No. I can’t handle seeing this. I didn’t do it! How many times do I have to tell you!”
“Is the girl your niece or not?” the detective asked.
“Yes,” I said, “but I didn’t even know I had a niece. I haven’t seen my brother since I was a kid.” This was true. My brother went to college while I was in my freshman year. We liked each other; we just kind of went our own ways.
“Well, that’s pretty convenient, isn’t it?” said the detective. “You’re going strait to the chair for this and no one is going to save you.”

“The only reason they pinned it on me, Harry, is because I was the only connection. My niece was found in my neighborhood, and now I’m going to the electric chair for it.”
“I know,” said Harry. “I need to be getting home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I looked at Harry and said, “Thanks for the meal. I wouldn’t want anyone else pulling the switch tomorrow.”
“I know. I just wish I didn’t have to do it,” Harry said.
“Me, too.”

The morning was as normal as ever, not reflecting what kind of abnormal day it was going to be. The sun shone through the single window. There must not be any clouds out at all because the light was blinding. I sat up and waited for Harry to come through the door so I could finally meet the fate I have been waiting so long for. I’m ready, I’m sick of the waiting and actually look forward to seeing what afterlife was like, if there was one. It was just like sitting in the waiting room of a doctor’s office; the longer you wait the more nervous you became until you wanted it to just be over.
The door at the end of the hall opened and Harry came in with two guards accompanying him. He stood in front oif my cell and asked, “Are you ready?”
“I’ve been ready,” I replied with a weak grin. He opened the door and proceeded to put shackles around my ankles and wrists that were connected with a chain.
“Horrible news to be dying to, huh?” asked one of the guards.
“Shut up, Ken,” Harry said sharply.
“What news?” I asked.
“About your family,” the guard said casually.
A dread filled me so deep I can’t even begin to describe how horrible it felt. “What happened to my family?” I asked, preparing for the worst.
“Well. . . Some people who were eager for justice decided to take matters into their own hands. A gang of about twenty or so broke into your home and hung your wife and children,” the guard said. I didn’t, I couldn’t, believe that. I had accepted the fact I was going to pay for a crime I never committed, but my family? They never hurt anybody. There was nothing left to live for now anyway.
The door opened to the room of my execution. People were lined up in front of the chair like they were waiting for the latest Hitchcock flick to start. Give them some popcorn and the illusion would have been perfect. I saw the parents, one my brother, watching my entrance, their eyes filled with anger and sadness.
A man came over and strapped in my waist, wrists, and ankles. Water ran down the sides of my head from the sponge. He strapped on my helmet, and I was ready to ride.
“Would you like to make a final statement?” Harry asked me.
I looked up at all the people, memories of my wife and children in my mind. I had planned to apologize to try and make the parents feel better, but I no longer held sympathy for anyone. “You can all go to hell,” I told them and meant it. The crowd stirred at the unexpected comment.
Harry walked back behind a wall and pulled the switch.
Every muscle in my body tensed like never before. It didn’t so much hurt as tingle, like my hole body was asleep. My teeth clenched together so tightly they cracked and chipped. I could see smoke and smell something like burnt meat, and then everything fell into darkness.

The crowd watched astonished at the brutal display. Some smiled. Some grimaced. Some looked away. His last spoken words still wrung in the peoples ears, and, for some reason, they all felt it was true.
Suddenly, the back door burst open and a man came running through. “Don’t kill . . .” his words trailed off at the sight of the body. “We found another body. Exactly the same,” he said though giant gulps of air. The crowd just looked at the innocent man who was dead.

I lifted my head and looked at the people sat in front of me. What was going on? Shouldn’t I be dead? I had never heard of someone surviving the electric chair. The crowd was silent as a man broke through the door. He was saying something, but I couldn’t hear it. I stood up and noticed no one saw me. I turned around and saw my body.
Understanding dawned on me. I was dead. I lay slumped over and smoking.
I began to rise. I braced for hitting the roof, but I serenely floated through. I went up and up and up, dwarfing the people below me. Fear no longer gripped me. It was replaced with calmness, serenity beyond description. I knew my family was dead, but it didn’t seem to matter. I felt fine.
I drifted above the clouds and saw shining gates standing open. My wife and two children stood before them. I closed my eyes and opened them, and there they still stood.
My wife extended her hand and said, “Take my hand, Luke. It’s much better here.” I did.