This appears in a pre-2010 issue
of cc&d magazine.
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Trouble was brewing there was no doubt about it. Eyes in the crowd glowed like burning embers. They wanted an answer and they wanted it now. Not later, not tomorrow, but now. With trembling hands the speaker approached a bank of microphones, shielding his eyes from the glare of television cameras. He cleared his throat and spoke as forcefully as he could under the circumstances.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, with all due haste we are trying to provide an answer to the question everyone is waiting for.” There was an uneasy rumble from the crowd. “Please understand that this is our first attempt at doing such an event and we must assure that every protocol is followed and all fairness assured.” At the word fairness there was a huge outcry from both sides of the road where the speaker stood at the head. He turned and headed back through the gates that were then shut and locked behind him.
The crowd was left to its own devices unable to approach the gates due to the line of solemn faced officers standing along the fence. But despite the late hour, the bleak cold weather and the uncertainty of their question being resolved, no one in the crowd moved an inch. Many of them butted up against each other for warmth. One voice spoke out from the right side of the road,”Will you just look at them, with their damn candles,” he gestured to those on the left. “Don’t you have somewhere else to cry your tears, like a church or maybe over my daughter’s grave?” Muffled voices from behind and to the side of him agreed, and many pointed fingers and shook fists at the others across from them.
Those on the left of the road said little, you could hear sniffling and quietly whispered prayers as candle light flickered on their faces.
The speaker once more appeared from the building and walked toward the crowd in a much more determined and forceful manner. “Ladies and Gentlemen the event will proceed as planned.” Loud shouts and cheers went up from one side, while the other side sank to their knees and bowed their heads.”However there are to be no inappropriate demonstrations of any kind, anyone acting in such a manner will be removed and arrested.” He hesitated for a moment. “May God have mercy on us all.” He walked back slowly with his head bowed, as if he already knew no such mercy would be coming.
As soon as he reentered the building the huge television screen behind the fence lit up. The faces of those watching were bathed in an artificial white light. The multitude of sound was overwhelming. Cries of approval, delight, gasps of horror and disbelief were mixed together in the night air. The officers bowed their heads and kept their backs to the screen.
A picture of a curtained window flickered into view. The crowd sighed in unison, ”Ahhhhh.’
The curtain was drawn and there lay a man, strapped to a gurney in a small tiled room. He glanced around puzzled as if confused what all the fuss was about. An IV tube ran into his arm and since there was no sound the crowd could only watch the prison warden mouth the words of the death sentence. However, when the condemned man was allowed to talk he mouthed the words so most could understand what was said and tears ran down his face slowly as his lips formed, “It wasn’t me”. That was all. The gurney was laid back in position and he closed his eyes. The medications were started and within ten minutes the curtain was closed once again.
The crowd seemed uneasy and confused. Nothing seemed to have happened. The speaker came once more out of the building. He stepped up to the microphone with a tear running out of his eye. He announced the name of the accused and the time of death. The screen behind him went blank. The officers filed back into the prison.
No one seemed to know what to do. It was over but it was as if nothing had happened, nothing had changed. Candles were blown out, and people began to move to their cars. The first public execution in many, many years was now over. It was now history.
The man who had lost his daughter held out his hands in supplication, “But my daughter, it was my daughter.....”
One man from the other side of the road came over and looked at him with compassion. He put his hand on the man’s shoulder, “My friend, she isn’t coming back.”
