"Kingdom Come", a novel excerpt by Shane O'Hara

One thing I know, been knowin about since I went away all them years ago is what regrets is. Lotta folks think it’s feelin bad bout trangressions and sins past but it aint. Nope. Things you done thru the years, they aint the ones stay with you. Torment you every minute of the day then find you sleepin so’s they can haunt your dreams too. Its the things you aint done. Those what cause regret pure and true and unbearable. Regret so bad it breaks men, leaves them where they cant never be unbroke.

Worst regret I had while in hell them five years, and there was a slew of em, was losin you.

I still aint sure why I remember the weather so well, what with all that was runnin through my head on that bus. Bout the longest damn ride anyone could imagine. Hard to believe that dirt road leadin up to them gates is twenty miles long. And it aint nothin but wide open land—the prettiest I had ever saw. Kept makin me think its how Gods country would look. They was the greenest grass, all lookin like it was fresh cut and fields of cotton and wheat and okra and squash and corn as far as I could see all swaying as one with the breeze so peaceful like. So nice lookin.

I sat with chains around my waist and ankles watchin it all out my window—had a smudge of grey paint looked like a thumb print on the bottom and a lil crack up on the left—all of that land and them crops. All of that beauty. Who’d ever figure that the road to perdition would be so goddamn pretty.

That last stretch couldnta taken us no more than an hour to travel, but it seemed like an eternity. I musta had more thoughts racin through my head that last stretch than did during all the years I spent captive there. I was so scared and still hadnt really come to terms with bein found guilty of somethin so terrible. I rekon I still hadnt even reconciled bein said to have done it at all. I kept thinking bout what prison was really gone be like and whether I was gone ever be home again and whether I was gone be killed or raped and what I should do to stop someone wantin to do either. Them thoughts was scarin me more than anything.

But then you showed up middle of all that crazy thinkin and replaced them fearful thoughts with your calmin voice and wise words. I could still hear your voice then and it was the most comforting thing in the world. Your hand on the back a my neck and your eyes—the bluest things I ever seen, even more perfect a blue than the sky. I used to say them eyes was the color God intended on makin the sky, but he rekoned once people looked at it they wasn’t gone be able to look away on account of it bein too pretty so he saved that particular shade just for you.

I was thinkin bout them eyes when I noticed aways off the green fields looked to be black like someone had gone an set fire to them. Then I seen movement from that sea of darkness and after lookin a bit longer an harder I known it was people I was seein. Convicts workin the fields in black and white stripes. Niggers and whites was out there workin side by side, but there was a lot more niggers than whites.

Bus stopped aside them field hands at what was called a ‘checkpoint’ but really wasnt no more than a lil wooden shed with damn near most of it rotted out. While the driver shot the bull I watched all them workin out a my window. Seen this nigger turn an look over when we’s stopped had hair white as a cloud. Fella only had one eye. Where the other one shoulda been was a scar goin from that snowy afro down his eyesocket round his cheek and to the corner of his mouth. The blank socket seemed was lookin on me just as good as the other, ifn’t better. He propped an elbow atop his hoe and took a blue bandanna from a breast pocket and dabbed the sweat from his brow and good eye with it. Before he put the bandanna away another inmate but this one a white fella on horseback wearin a straw hat with a wide brim had come up from behind and hit the ole nigger back a his head with the butt a his rifle. Bus started movin again. I craned my neck and watched the one-eyed fella go to his knees, a splotch of dark red soakin through that white white hair. Whole lot of it was damn near red when he fell to the ground. White fella climbed off his horse and went to hitting him with the butt a that rifle over and over and over again. Side of that nigger’s face with the good eye was in the dirt but the milky eye was still showin. Thought I seen it lookin on me, unblinking and empty even as blood seemed to be fillin its socket. Fella in the hat was still hittin on that old nigger when they faded from sight.

When the bus stopped next we was just outside the main prison. All was real quiet and still for a while. Dust from the gravel road swirled and looped all about before settling back down to the earth from which it came.

Then it began.

Men in all black with fully automatic rifles circled the baby blue bus then boarded screaming and hollering to get off get off hurry up move it niggers get the fuck off my bus. When we got out they had us strip bare-ass naked and line up one behind the other nut-to-butt then marched us through the biggest tallest gate I had ever saw. Big ole arch ran one side to the other, had these words goin cross it from one side all the way to the other. They was in a language I ain’t never seen before. It read: Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch’intrate.

I hadn’t the slightest what it meant. But I’d learn soon enough.

They marched us through the archway into a fenced-in sallyport hollerin all the while bout stayin paired up and bout keepin our motherfuckin hands at our sides and off of our cocks to the ones kept tryin cover themselves. While we was bein herded in there was inmates against the fence on both sides of us hollerin and catcallin and sayin all kinds of stuff. With the guards screamin and cussin in my ear and the inmates yellin and cussin at the same time on top of my humiliation at bein stark naked and all too, it was all too much for me to take in. I was tryin to keep my eyes front and my face from showin any of stuff I was feeling, but it wasn’t no use.

At first it was just a few of em I heard yellin towards me sayin what they was gone do to me once I got on the other side of that fence and how I was gone start payin rent that night and how good my ass looked and the sort. I knew they was aimin them at me cause I was wearin my glasses and they was callin to four-eyes and blind-boy and the like. Then the whistlin started. The kind of whistlin a fella might do for his girl when she gets all dudded up and looks specially pretty and smells all nice and fresh too like soap and shampoo. The guards started laughin and carrin on too and I could feel my face gettin hot and goin redder than a radish. It was horrible just standin there ass naked and bein spoke to so bad and not bein able to say nothin back or do nothin bout it. It makes me angry some kind of fierce now thinkin back on it, but it didn’t make me feel nothin but scared at the time. Scared and alone.

I remembered you and what you told me to do if it got real bad or scary in here, which we both knew it was gone be sometimes whether we much liked it or not, so I started thinkin on the 23rd Psalm of David. We memorized it and I was tryin to say it in my head from the beginning but kept messin up and forgettin where I was. Kept bein interrupted by the hollerin and all. Thought it may be better if I did it aloud cause that’s how we did it together. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. I want her in A camp, Sarge! Put the bitch in A! He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yo! Yo, over here sugar! Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, Yo bitch! Look! Over here! I will fear no evil: You goin to A ho! Blood on my shank or shit on my dick bitch! Up to you. For thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort Oh yeah I can smell that shit pussy way over here! Smells like love.

Couldnt remember no more after that and it wasnt from lack a tryin. I stood naked and sacred waitin for the Lord to help me remember, for his voice to drown out those round me speakin all that evil. I stood waitin patiently, like you said it teaches in the Good Book. Waitin, tremblin, prayin. For nothin.