pews were different heights and the pulpit leaned to the left a little.
“Are you the only officer here?” I asked, unable to keep the surprise and anger out of my voice.
He nodded. “Whitfield was here-he loves this shit, but he got pulled to escort the GED class back down to the dorms. Almost made him lose his religion,” he added with an appreciative smile. “He should be back soon.”
Bunny and Nicole finished their song and received a standing ovation. Bunny took several bows, but looked over at Bobby Earl uneasily. Nicole just smiled. Then, as the men were being seated and Bobby Earl was taking the pulpit, Bunny and Nicole slipped into my office through the door near the platform.
“Do you need any help?” I asked Coel.
“You can check the bathrooms,” he said. “I can’t be here and there at the same time, and it’s probably full of these randy bastards beatin’ off to Bunny.”
I nodded, and started to walk out when Coel grabbed my arm.
“Why didn’t you put out a memo for security about this service?” he whispered, his voice harsh, his face pinched. “Control didn’t have anything on it. Were they cleared through the proper channels?”
“I didn’t have anything to do with this program,” I said. “Stone set it up. He said he took care of everything.”
“Yeah, with a phone call at the time they arrived. No advance warning. No chance for us to prepare. Nothing.”
“I’ll look into it,” I said.
My pulse started pounding when I found several inmates, one of whom was a child molester, lurking around the hallway near the water fountain and my office, and I realized again just how vulnerable Nicole really was.
“You need to get back in the sanctuary now,” I said.
Paul Register seemed to shrink in on himself, his short, boyish form becoming even smaller. His eyes blinked sheepishly at me like a small puppy expecting another whack with a newspaper.
“Yes, sir,” he said softly. “My knee’s hurting. I was trying to stretch it out some.”
“You can stand in the back if you need to,” I said. “But you need to be in the sanctuary.”
“Yes, sir,” he said. “I’m going.” He glanced through the glass pane in my office door, then limped back into the sanctuary under the hard glare of Officer Coel.
Once Register was out of the front hallway, I walked over and made sure the door to my office was locked. It was. Then I headed to the inmate bathroom next to the kitchen and multi-purpose room in the back.
Obviously designed by someone who had never worked in a prison, the chapel’s inmate and visitor bathrooms were down a short L-shaped hallway that led to the kitchen and meeting room in the back. It was a blind spot, difficult to supervise, and, if not watched closely, the place where the more criminal of our criminal element congregated. For an event like this, there should be a minimum of three officers on duty.
Inside the bathroom, to my shock, I discovered Abdul Muhammin, one of the clerks assigned to the chapel. I had never seen him or any other Muslim at a Christian worship service.
“What’re you doing here?”
“Using the bathroom,” he said. He posture and tone were defiant and challenging, his muscular body flexing as he began to bow up.
“No,” I said. “In the chapel?”
“Hearin’ Bobby Earl,” he said. “Dog’s doin’ good for hisself.”
Suddenly, he was different, his demeanor relaxed and playful, as if he and I were friends just hanging out, talking about old times and people we knew.
“You’re a fan?” I asked.
“Shit,” he said, “I shared a cell with ‘im at Lake Butler. I came to make sure he don’t forget a nigga’.”
“You and Bobby Earl-”
“Yeah,” he said. “Bobby Earl’s my boy. He like the Jimmy Swaggart of jailhouse religion.”
“Well, you need to get back in there,” I said. “You wouldn’t want to miss him.”
He nodded slowly, rubbing his chin as if contemplating something profound. “All right, Chap. I’m on my way.”
“Is anybody else in here?” I asked.
“I am,” a disembodied voice rose from within the stall.
“Who’s that?”
“Inmate Cedric Porter, sir,” he said.
“It’s time to get back to the chapel,” I said.
“Yes, sir,” he said.
When I left the bathroom, I checked on Bunny and Nicole through the window of my office door. Nicole appeared bored, Bunny sad and restless, and I wondered how much of their lives were spent waiting on Bobby Earl’s seemingly eternal sermons to end.
I stepped out of the air-conditioned chapel into the humidity and heat of the dark night, and walked up to the control room where I asked to see the memo giving Bobby Earl and his family authorization to enter the institution and conduct the special program.
There wasn’t one. Never had been. No one knew anything about it until Mr. Stone called and told them to let Bobby Earl and his family through the gate and to escort them to the chapel.
I borrowed the phone and called Anna at home.
“Sorry to disturb you,” I said, thinking
“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice full of concern. I never call her at home.
“Did you run a FCIC/NCIC check on Bobby Earl and Bunny Caldwell?”
“Not yet,” she said. “When’re they supposed to be coming in?”
“Tonight,” I said.
“Not gonna happen,” she said. “I haven’t-”
“It already has.”
“What?” she asked in shock. “I haven’t seen anything on it.”
“You still the only one who runs the checks?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she said. “Which means they shouldn’t be there tonight. So how the hell’d they get in?”
“Stone,” I said.
“Well, he can do that.”
“Even without a background check?”
“Not supposed to,” she said. “But he can. He has the authority.”
“Why wouldn’t he?”
“Check?” she asked. “Maybe because he knows Bobby Earl so well. Knows he’s not related to any of our inmates. Knows he’s not a convicted felon.”
“Or knows he is.”
“What?”
I told her. As I did, I stared absently into the control room.
The dark night made the light in the control room seem even brighter, putting the two officers inside on display like fish in an aquarium, the condensation on the glass reinforcing the illusion.
“And an inmate in the chapel says he was Bobby Earl’s cell mate at Lake Butler.”
“Oh, my God,” she said. “John, you better keep a close eye on him.”
“I will,” I said. “Thanks.”
Once in the chapel again, I looked into my office. Bunny Caldwell, who was sitting in my chair, waved to me. She smiled, too, which was something to see, and for just a moment the sadness left her eyes. I waved back. She smiled even bigger and I motioned her over to the door, which was still locked.
“You okay?” I asked after she had unlocked the door and I stepped inside.
She nodded, but looked away. When she looked back, she said, “I’m just a little tired. I don’t have Bobby Earl’s stamina.”
“Where’s Nicole?”
“In the bathroom,” she said, nodding toward the narrow door in the corner.
“I’m sorry to do this,” I said, “but I may never see you again.”
