Birth Row

Part Eight

“Yeah, but how do you know it’s going to work?”

“Are you kidding me? After Colonel Condon from the Air National Guard met with Watkins, he left here smiling like he’d just won the lottery. I’m sure none of them said anything to the Federals or we’d be neck deep in soldiers right now. It sure looks like his plan is working.”

“So, what did he promise you?” asked Kirby.

“That’s none of your goddamned business,” The Warden shot back, “You sure ask a lot of questions. How far are you willing to go for an answer?”

As he finished speaking, the Warden put his hand on his sidearm.

“I’m sorry,” Kirby quickly replied, “Dumb question, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“You’ll live longer if you stop asking so many questions. You’re useful, but not irreplaceable. It would be a shame to lose you because you have a big mouth. Is that understood?”

“Yes sir, Warden. I understand.” Kirby replied crisply.

The Warden looked past Kirby toward the main prison building and said,

“Here he comes, you better get with the program right now or you know what’ll happen.”

Then the Warden leaned close to Kirby and whispered in his ear, “We’ll be watching you.”

Clara walked next to Watkins sandwiched inside his personal Riot Squad. She felt completely safe as they approached the massive crowd outside the prison. She was impressed by the sheer numbers of followers.

Watkins ordered them to stop short of the crowd. He and Clara finished the distance with the riot squad following closely behind. Clara suspected that the riot squad was always nearby.

“Remember what I told you” Watkins whispered in her ear. Then he strode to a flatbed truck positioned in front of the crowd with a bullhorn in hand and nimbly climbed onto the platform.

Clara took up position on the ground in front of the truck below Watkins. She observed the scene in front of her as she waited for Watkins to begin. The crowd was a multi-colored sea of clothing surrounded by green uniforms. It looked to her that the crowd numbered at least five-thousand but there were about half again as many armed men in dull green prison uniforms on their fringes. A mass of trucks, buses, vans and cars were positioned behind the masses flanked on either side by a village of military style tents. The scene reminded her of a military camp—except for the multi-colored crowd at its center.

Watkins thrust his arms upward, as if reaching for the heavens and stared at the noisy crowd while turning from side-to-side so all could see him.

Within seconds the mass of thousands stopped moving and became eerily silent.

When all attention was focused on him, Watkins dropped his arms and began speaking through the bullhorn,

“We are the invisible people who live on the fringe of society. We have been left behind and ignored. We are the criminals and the guards who watch us—we are the street sweepers and ditch diggers that do the dirty work and get looked down on by the good people of society. We are the crazy people and garbage pickers who are forced on to the bread lines.”

“But I stand before you today as your leader, as proof that we can and will change the balance of power. Today is the day we have been waiting for. This is the day we have planned and sacrificed for!”

“All of you know they tried to make me suffer for their laws by putting me in a cage for a hundred and fifty six years, but they only made me stronger. They thought they could play God but now we will make them suffer while we rule…it’s our turn!”

“Today, our last piece of the plan fell into place. Clara Gannett has joined us as my future bride. Just like all of you, she has to prove her loyalty. Then you will treat her with the same respect you give me.”

Clara climbed onto the platform and raised her hands as if in a beauty contest, turning a slow, full circle for everyone to see. She finished by giving Watkins a long passionate kiss and then stood obediently behind him.

The crowd, which had been silent up to this point, went wild with applause. People clapped and whistled, some cried and pulled at their hair while others fired guns into the air. The guards and prisoners whom Watkins had placed in the front rows all gave each other high-fives.

After several minutes, Watkins raised his arms and the crowd again became silent.

 “Over the next two days we have a battle to win.” Watkins bellowed through the bullhorn, “You all know what you’re supposed to do. I expect every single one of you to accomplish your goals or die trying! It is our destiny to take over Lincoln and have a home of our own!”

The crowd went into another round of frenzied applause punctuated with gunfire. Watkins waved the warden up to the platform and handed him the bullhorn.

As Watkins climbed down, the crowd grew quiet and the Warden began giving orders, “Break up into your assigned groups and see your leaders for transportation and weapons. Let’s begin with the nuns, hookers and housewives moving over to the buses on my left. You ladies are our secret weapons so remember your training.”

Clara watched as hundreds of heavily armed women dressed in various outfits piled into a row of buses. They were dressed in three different themes: prostitutes, fully clad nuns or 1960’s style conservative housewives. They toted weapons and walked to the buses chatting with each other as if they were best friends going on a Sunday outing.

In the background the Warden continued emitting commands to the crowd of obedient followers.  

Suddenly she heard a voice in her ear, “What do you think, Princess?” asked Watkins in a mischievous voice from behind.

“It’s amazing! How long have they been practicing for this?”

“I’ve been planning this for the past thirty years, Princess. My people here have been practicing for about a month. But I have well-placed people in all the right positions throughout Lincoln. By the time most people figure out what’s going on, it will already be over and we’ll be in charge.”

“I love the ladies on the buses.”

“That was the Warden’s idea. They’re part of our infiltration squads for police stations. You’ll see more soon. You have a role to play in this too. I’ll explain more after you do a favor for me tomorrow.”

“I’ll do whatever you want my love,” said Clara.

Watkins smiled and said, “Speaking of that, I have a bedroom set up for us, Princess. I’ve been looking forward to this so follow me.”

Clara followed Watkins as he walked over to the Warden and began talking about their plans. She paid no attention to their conversation, but instead watched the crowd as she patiently waited for him. The masses broke up into different factions and moved to various buses, trucks and vans. Most of them carried weapons. It all seemed very efficient to her considering this morning she had thought most of the people in the crowd to be idiots.

The Warden finished the conversation with Watkins by stating, “Loading and transport will take about three hours, Sir. I’ll report to you when it’s completed.”

“Good, that should give the two of us plenty of time.” Said Watkins as he looked toward Clara, “Come on Princess, it’s time to really get to know each other.”

Clara did as she was told, walking along side Watkins as they moved away from the industrious crowd toward the prison entrance. The riot squad followed closely behind.

She was excited to feel Watkins touch, to have his skin pressed against hers. He was her twenty-one year old Adonis, with his own private army. He would give her more than all her money could buy and she would love him for it.