My name’s Josh, and today’s my last day. Tomorrow I’m getting out of prison. I'll finally be free. I’ll take back the personal effects that the Iowa State Police took from me before they threw me into this cell; ain’t much there, but I'm not going to leave it for the government. If I do, they’ll have taken every last thing I have left from my old life. First, there’s my gun. I’ve never killed anyone, but I use it for self-defence or to scare off anyone who threatens me. Then there’s a gold chain I used to wear around my neck. They wouldn’t let me keep it, ‘case I tried to hang myself. It’s true, I was on the brink of suicide when I got here. Couldn’t imagine how I’d survive ten years in prison for trafficking in drugs and contraband. Then there’s the ring my daddy gave me before he died, and my wallet, where I always kept a photo of my mom, Grace. Like I said, I was a drug dealer; used to sell to the kids the system left behind. I sold “psycho-active substances,” or so they say: weed, dope and LSD. The kids wanted to get high, pretend to be artists. Wanted to rave, dream, get out of this world. Suppose I killed a few of them...not me personally, mind – I’m no murderer. Overdoses, you know. These things happen, ain’t no telling when. Still, I feel guilty ‘bout them now, and every day I ask God to forgive me.
I found religion in prison. I learned that God had an only son, Jesus Christ our Saviour, and didn’t Jesus tell Barabbas, the prisoner crucified alongside him, that he’d be in His kingdom soon? Barabbas was a criminal, but I never killed anyone with my own two hands. I’ve repented, and learned the error of my ways. I read my Bible every day. I think I’ve read it all the way through. I like the stories about the Ancients the best, especially Abraham and Moses. It’s a pretty entertaining read up until the Messiah comes along, telling the whole population of Samaria he’s God’s only son. Pretty intense stuff, and this time when I get out of prison I’ll think twice before I act. That’s why I got this little sign on my mirror that says “THINK.” When I was a dealer, I held my head high but kept my eyes down. I tried to sell my shit as quickly as I could, and when the bankers asked me where I got my money from I couldn’t explain. I should have buried it somewhere in the forest where the pigs couldn’t get it. Damn shame...it would have made Grace happy as a kitten to go and pick up that money. But the Iowa police found all my stashes. Still, all that’s in the past! Tomorrow morning Grace will come and pick me up, and I'll go back to the house for a nice hot bath and a cup of coffee, and eat whatever I want. I’ll be free. I’ll have paid for my sins.
When it’s your last day in prison, the inmates in the other cells chant your name all day. They’re proud I'm getting out; makes them feel free too. The prisoners grab their cell bars and yell my name all day long. You can hear tin cups rattling against the cages all over the place. Still, I haven’t made many friends in prison. I should have learned to get some respect from the guys who just want to kick your ass to blow off some steam. Luckily I found some allies pretty quick; a pal advised me to join a gang as soon as I could, so I’d have protection. In the prison chapel I found support; a kind of protection that was much more important than my new friends – one that gave my life meaning. I think I was just as out of whack as the kids I used to sell to. Deep town, I see myself in all those guys who just wanted a way out. But now I feel responsible for my life. I know that my actions matter, and that I’ll have to state my case during the Last Judgement. Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my life. Starting tomorrow, I’ll have to put everything I believe now into action.
Alan Alfredo Geday