Rosary girls

83

There is a principle in sales, that being the Rule of250. They say that, in one's lifetime, one becomes acquainted with around 250 people. Make one customer happy, and that just may lead to 250 sales.

The same might be said for hatred.

Make one enemy…

It is for this reason, and, perhaps, many others, that I am segregated from the general population here.

At just before eight I hear them coming. I am brought to the small exercise yard for thirty minutes each day, right around this time.

The officer arrives at my cell. He reaches through the bars and shackles my hands. He is not my usual guard. I have never seen him before.

The guard is not a big man, but he looks to be in great physical shape. He is about my size, my height. I might have known he would be unremarkable in every way but his resolve. In this, we are surely kin.

He calls for an open cell. My door slides, I exit.

Hail Mary, full of grace…

We walk down the corridor. The sound of my chains echoes off the dead walls, steel conversing with steel.

Blessed art thou amongst women…

Every step resonates with a name. Nicole. Tessa. Bethany. Kristi.

And blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus…

The pills I take for pain barely mask the agony. They bring them one at a time to my cell, three times a day. I would have taken them all today if I could have.

Holy Mary, mother of God…

This day trembled to life just a few hours ago, a day with which I have been on a collision course for a very long time.

Pray for us sinners…

I stand at the top of the steep iron stairs as Christ stood on Calvary. My cold, gray, solitary Golgotha.

Now…

I feel the hand at the center of my back.

And at the hour of our death…

I close my eyes.

I feel the push.

Amen.