Grace Carson was just your ordinary everyday slightly introverted transgendered woman trying to make her way through life. She never expected to be tested, ran through the fires of hell, and face the very worst humanity has to offer. But, who does? This is her story.
Author’s Note: Everything in this story representing the more fundamentalist beliefs in our society is unfortunately very true. One only has to visit Westboro Baptist’s hate site, or Jack Chick’s deranged fundie cartoon world. Your author has attended Holiness church services and Southern Baptist in her formative years — so nothing Westboro or Chick says is new or shocking. There’s some explicit violence and bigotry contained herein — I firmly believe you cannot hide hatred and make it go away. You must expose, educate, and in some cases punish people to make it finally stop.
Please let me know in the comments if you liked it, hated it, or have some critiques! - Jenny Sugar
Chapter 1 Amazing Grace
“Of all tyrannies a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive.” — C.S. Lewis
It was a typical Monday morning for Grace as she gathered up all of the stuff that she needed to start her day. Her cell phone dropped into her purse — a lovely Coach purse, her favorite. She opened her cigarette case — checked to see how many were in it… then grabbed a spare pack and dropped it in. Keys, sunglasses, and then she made one glance around to make sure everything was turned off. She stopped near the front door and checked herself in the mirror. Brunette hair pulled back into a French twist, light makeup — earth-tones as always. Gold stud earrings, but nothing ostentatious for Grace Carson.
It was a beautiful day with not a cloud in the sky. Grace looked forward to the drive ahead and to her appointment with her therapist.
She locked the door and started for her tired old car when her phone began blasting Meredith Brook’s song “Bitch” from inside her purse. She always meant to change it to something more modern but she always stopped herself. She just really adored the song. She paused on the cracked sidewalk outside of her apartment and made the fateful decision to answer the call.
The caller must have blocked CID, as no number showed on the display, but Grace hit the button and answered,
“Hello?”
“Hello is this Grace Carson?” replied a soft female voice with a very slight southern drawl.
“Yes it is. Who is this?”
“I’d… rather not say my name. Someone gave me your name and number and asked me to call you.” There was a short pause. “Madeline Seaver?”
Grace recognized the name right away and replied “Yes, I know Madeline. Is something wrong?”
“Well, sort of… look, Grace… I can’t afford to get too involved here in this. I have to keep my name out of it and you can’t go telling anyone I even called you ok?” The woman sounded quite nervous, and slightly upset.
Grace replied while walking back to her door and unlocking it. “Look, Miss, just please tell me what you are calling about and what’s up with Maddy, would you?”
Grace sat down and quickly dipped into her purse for her cigarette case, and as the woman replied she lit up with a practiced ease. Grace was a heavy smoker and rarely talked on the phone or drove a car without one going.
“All right Grace. Your friend, Maddy? She... err, he… got into some trouble here. He asked me to call you and gave me the information. That’s all I can tell you really. He’s in a work camp here in Wonderland, Colorado.”
Grace paused in taking a drag when the woman switched pronouns, then took a quick one before responding, “You know Maddy is a transsexual I take it? And what is this work camp?”
The woman sounded slightly testy when she responded, “Look I don’t understand all this transsexual stuff and I really don’t want to but I don’t like what I saw and he asked me to call you. So, I called. It’s the county work camp ran by Reverend Hayes. It’s called “The Carpenter’s Light”. The Sheriff sends his inmates there and some parents send their kids there too. I hope you can help him. I really must go now. Goodbye.”
Grace heard the phone disconnect and looked again at the display of her battered old Motorola phone showing no caller ID.
Grace sighed and pulled out another cigarette and quickly lit it.
Should I go? Well, duh, of course I have to go! I can’t just ignore Maddy, we go back a long ways and she always helped me when I needed it most.
Sitting there, she smoked her cigarette and thought about Maddy.
Six years earlier…
It was Grace’s first visit to this particular bar, a bar she’d heard of on AOL chat as being “T-girl friendly” from her other transgendered friends online. She’d walked in, eyes stinging from the permanent smoky haze hanging in the air and finally chose an out-of-the-way table for two in a corner. Grace was a naturally shy and introverted person growing up, but her new feminine persona was slightly more outgoing.
The waitress was an exceptionally tall but passable girl who looked to be around 25 at most. She introduced herself as Violet and took Grace’s order — a Rum and Coke.
Once Grace had her drink she dug a pack of Marlboro Lights from her purse and lit one. She didn’t smoke all that often, perhaps ten cigarettes at most in a day — yet the atmosphere and the drinks when she went clubbing always seemed to force her conservative habit to greater heights. She didn’t really mind the heavy fog in the air if she was smoking as well. Nearly everyone in the bar had one going so it necessitated her own, she felt.
She looked around, finding many other girls like herself spread across the room. Some were dancing at the far end to the jukebox while some were at tables. Grace noted quite a mixture here — T-girls of all types, some passing well, some rather new at it as she was herself. She noticed a few drag queens, some gay men, and of course the “straight” men — usually married — cruising for some hot tranny sexual adventures. She was not here to “hook up” at all — she just liked being out and about and doing so in a place where she could be herself without worrying about being “clocked”.
Grace thought herself ninety-percent passable at best. She had a decent figure, hormone-enhanced ‘A’ cups that she hoped would grow, and fairly feminine facial features. The latter was a gift from her mother, who she resembled remarkably well.
Unfortunately any physical comparisons to her mother would only be made in Grace’s memories, as the poor woman had died of breast cancer just two years ago when Grace turned twenty-two.
She was about halfway through her drink, and was reaching for her cigarette pack when a woman spoke, almost in her ear. “Honey those short little cigarettes are maybe okay for the guys but for girls like us, longer and slimmer is always better!” This statement was followed by an extended pack of Virginia Slims Lights held in a hand with bright red perfectly manicured nails.
Grace half-turned and found she was looking at a smiling blonde with beautiful hair, bright blue eyes, perfect makeup, and an inviting smile. She was in a peasant blouse, denim skirt, ankle boots and a simple thin gold chain around her neck. Her look definitely worked for her. Grace noted her ‘D’ cup breasts right away, and felt a moment of jealousy.
“Hey there! I’m Maddy. Mind if I join you, hon? Or, were you expecting someone?” the woman said. Her accent screamed ‘Texas’ for certain.
Grace offered her hand and they shook briefly and she responded, “No, I’m not expecting anyone. Please, sit down. Oh, I’m Grace.”
“Well Grace, thank you and it’s a pleasure to meet you. Please, help yourself to the cigarettes if you want… or don’t. I just saw you sitting here looking lonely and thought I’d come be lonely with you!”
Grace offered a smile and thought “why not? I always wondered what these ‘girly’ cigs were like” and removed the cellophane and opened the box. She extracted one and admired the length. It was slightly longer than the Marlboros she smoked. Maddy leaned over and offered her a light. She took her first drag and found the taste to be quite good, which she voiced after another drag. “Thank you Maddy. This tastes really good! And I think I like the look!”
Maddy smiled and lit her own before replying. “You’re quite welcome, Grace. I always preferred the more feminine things in life, of course, and this is just one of them! Actually these are shorter than my usual ones, but they were out and I got a couple packs of these. So, is this your first visit to The Barn?”
Grace nodded. “I had heard it was a good place that was very T-friendly and here I am.”
“Well you picked a good place. I come here at least every two weeks just to relax and unwind, you know.” Maddy replied. “Why not waste a little of my hard-earned paycheck every payday?”
Grace smiled. “I’m doing the same thing myself. I like the motif, seems a very ‘country’ flavor.”
“Yeah, it looks like some kind of redneck joint at first glance. But you won’t see drag shows at any redneck places I’ve been to!”
They both laughed, and Grace considered right then that this woman could be a potential friend.
Grace and Maddy continued on that evening talking, smoking, drinking, and laughing. As the evening progressed and Grace felt more relaxed she opened up a bit to Maddy about her life, her relative newness to being out and about dressed in public, and even her hopes and dreams.
Their second encounter soon led to a third, a fourth, and before Grace knew it they were hanging out together every weekend, mostly at Maddy’s home. She had a rather large apartment that was always slightly messy but never nasty. Maddy would always say “So sorry for the mess but I just am so bad about neatening up the place. There are always too many other things I could be doing!”
One evening they were sitting on Maddy’s sofa in front of the TV watching some game show and smoking, drinking wine, and chatting — their usual thing now; when Maddy asked Grace a strange question out of the blue. “Grace, honey… you always seem to be so tense or nervous around me. Is that just naturally how you are, or is there something that bothers you? Please, tell me. I really like you, honey, and if there is something I can do to help I’d love for you to tell me!”
Grace fiddled with her cigarette before nervously replying “I feel a little intimidated by you — not that it’s your fault! I feel the same way about genetic girls, even. I can see you have a lot more life experience than I do.”
Maddy smiled and got up and gave Grace a big hug. “Honey, it really is experience that makes the woman. The more time you spend at it the better you are. Plus, role models are so important! With a good role model you can go far. And, I am almost ten years older than you, so I’ve been at this for a lot longer.”
“You certainly don’t look it! And I’ve actually looked around for a role model but I haven’t found any that I thought that I could learn anything from,” Grace said.
“My Mother taught me a lot — how to sit right, how to walk, how to smoke like a lady. I owe her so much for helping me become the woman I am. What I learned from her I’d be thrilled to share with you, Grace!”
Grace blushed slightly, still slightly hesitant with Maddy but growing closer each time they came together to hang out. But, truth be told, she felt that she needed a mentor to help bring her inner woman to life in the real world. Grace replied “So, your mother knew all about you and was supportive?”
Maddy nodded. “She knew from when I was like, two or maybe three years old, that I was not like other little boys. She could tell. Later, it was just me and her… my father didn’t come back from Desert Storm. He had a good insurance policy, though, and Momma had a good job so I never lacked for a thing.” She pulled one of her extra-long Virginia Slims 120s out and lit it with style, then offered the pack to Grace. Grace took one and accepted a light. She really enjoyed Maddy’s long cigarettes but resisted the urge to switch to the 120s herself. They just attracted way too much attention to the woman smoking them. She had decided, though, that the Virginia Slims Lights 100s were perfect for her and they were now her only brand.
“I really never had to be a boy, Grace. With Momma’s support I lived my life as a girl from early on. I’ve not gotten GRS yet - but I’ve never felt the need to do it, either. I feel that what I have is just nature’s little joke, and I always appreciate a good joke!” She laughed. One thing about Maddy, Grace was learning, was that she was always ready to laugh at herself or anything that could be found to have a funny side.
Maddy asked “So what kind of things do you consider your weak points, Grace? Anything I can help you with, I’d love to! Oh, and have another glass!” She picked up the bottle of Chardonnay from the table and refilled Grace’s glass. Grace snorted but didn’t comment. She’d learned that Maddy had two vices: cigarettes and chardonnay, and she indulged both quite heavily.
Grace pondered what her weak points were while she watched Maddy refill her glass then smoke. She realized that her own smoking style was quite crude in some ways compared to her friend. “Well, your smoking is so very feminine and elegant. We could work on that?”
Maddy gave her a big smile. “Ok honey, first smoking lesson! Always hold your cigarette high and near your head, like this. And keep it between your fingers close to your fingertips.” She demonstrated and exaggerated a slow drag, then returned her hand to where it was before. “Do that.”
Grace mimicked Maddy and a delighted grin from Maddy showed her that she did it well. “Yeah Grace you are a fast learner! Okay, just remember to always elevate the lit end, and don’t let it dangle often except when lighting it.”
Maddy eyed her new friend. “Hmm I don’t think we need to work much on deportment — you seem to have that down quite well. You sit properly, and you have a good posture and you walk well, too. Momma taught me all that stuff but you’ve already mastered that, I think.”
Grace found herself blushing once again and rather than responding she settled for a smile and another drag from her cigarette. Grace never reacted well to compliments or praise.
She exhaled as usual, by just opening her mouth and letting the smoke pour out when Maddy held up her hand. “I see one thing you could do here. I learned it by copying Momma. Watch how I do this, honey.”
Maddy brought her long cigarette to the center of her lips, and then took a long slow drag that went on for two or three seconds. She removed it and then inhaled deeply, making her breasts rise noticeably on her chest. After holding the smoke for about two seconds she pursed her lips and tilted her head slightly upward, letting the smoke escape in a thin stream over Grace’s head. “Now, how did that look to you?”
“It looked very elegant and feminine, Maddy, like some 1950s starlet. I liked the way you did that!”
Maddy grinned. “Good, now you do it.”
Grace repeated Maddy’s actions perfectly, and felt a rush when she was exhaling the smoke.
Maddy clapped her hands and smiled. “See? You are a natural, Grace. Just keep doing it like that and you will project a bit more feminine style with your smoking.”
Grace felt a little buzzed and giggled at Maddy. “I don’t know, Maddy. If I keep smoking the same way that you do I will be dizzy all the time!”
That brought laughter from Maddy. “No, no honey. You’ll get used to it, same as you did when you started smoking.”
“Now, let’s talk a little about makeup, Grace.”
Grace put out her cigarette and grimaced slightly at that.
Maddy laughed and replied “No, no honey I am not being all critical! But there’s a few tips I can share that will help you I am sure.”
“You did a good job, Grace. You have nothing to be ashamed of at all, honey!” Maddy gushed. “I’d suggest more earth tones though.” She tilted her head and studied Grace’s face. “Yes… definitely earth tones. They’ll work for you. Also, remember that ‘Less Is More’, especially when it comes to makeup. Now, look at my face and notice how I blend everything in? You don’t want any hard lines or borders. A makeup brush is your best friend. Do you moisturize every night?”
Grace replied, “No, but I’ve heard often that I should.”
“Oh honey you MUST!”
Grace nodded. “I will try to keep up with that better, teacher!”
Maddy giggled and before Grace realized it was refilling her glass again. “Oh, Maddy, no! You’re going to get me drunk, girl!”
“Oh, please, Grace, don’t be a killjoy. Here, drink up!”
Sitting side by side later, pleasantly buzzed from the wine, Grace had to admit that Maddy was just what she needed in her new life.
Six months after they met they went together to the club where they had first met and Grace was a slightly different woman. Her makeup skills had gone from ‘adequate’ to ‘advanced’ thanks to Maddy’s tips and help. Grace’s wardrobe was greatly expanded. She often got into little arguments with Maddy due to Maddy always buying her new clothes, shoes, and even complete outfits.
Her confidence level had skyrocketed thanks to the encouragement of her new friend. The only downside that Grace saw in all of this was that her smoking had went from roughly ten cigarettes a day to nearly thirty thanks to Maddy’s constant smoking around her. But Grace would admit that she enjoyed the smoking, too. So it didn’t stress her out too much.
Two years after their meeting, Maddy was there for Grace when she went in for breast augmentation surgery. In fact, Maddy had helped her choose how big she was going for and the doctor she went to. Maddy had pushed for a ‘D’ cup like her own, but Grace, ever the more conservative of the two, went for a ‘C’.
Maddy stayed with her while she recovered and pampered her to near death. She had even brought Grace a gift — a brand new 36C Victoria’s Secret lace bra to support her beautiful new breasts.
She owed so much to Maddy, and knew as her thoughts drifted back to the present that she would do anything she could to help her best friend.
They had been inseparable but all good things come to an end and their friendship looked to be doomed to a long-distance one when Maddy got the job she wanted in Denver. They’d had a tearful long weekend goodbye slumber party just a few months ago, and Maddy had promised to visit soon.
Grace sat down at her computer desk and booted her laptop. She typed in the town and state the anonymous woman had given her into Google Maps. The result was a very small town near the border between Colorado and Nebraska, surrounded by farms and wilderness.
After printing out driving directions and a map she then did a search on “The Carpenter’s Light” and was rewarded with quite a few hits. Grace lit a cigarette and began to read about this strange place where her best friend was supposedly living.
One cigarette then became two and then three as she read more information spread across multiple websites. “The Carpenter’s Light” was a Fundamentalist Church ran by a preacher named Jonathan Hayes. It was also a 400-acre work camp by the same name. Hayes’s and his flock ran it as a “pray the Gay away” type camp where gay, lesbian, and transgendered children could be sent to be “cured” of their evil ways and put on the right path to salvation.
What on earth could Maddy be doing at a place like this? She’s always been an atheist as far as I know? Grace pondered this and did some more reading. It seemed that the camp was also somehow intertwined with the county’s sheriff and was used as a work camp for simple misdemeanor crimes like shoplifting and petty theft, burglary and trespassing. Maddy is no criminal, so I don’t see her being sent there as an inmate. And I cannot imagine her voluntarily joining some kooky fundamentalist cult like this seems to be.
Grace was quite worried by this point and decided to make some phone calls. She couldn’t find a web site for the town, but did manage to find a white pages listing for the Sheriff’s office. She also found a listing for the Carpenter’s Light Church and another for the Work Camp. Now, which should I call first? If these people are as bad as I suspect they probably won’t give out much information easily. Damn, if only I knew more before I leap into this!
She finally decided to call the camp and dialed the number. A woman answered, and Grace immediately asked if they had someone there named Madeline Seaver. She was informed that they did not and then she heard a dial tone. Really polite people they have there.
Calling the church only produced an endlessly ringing phone.
Third time’s the charm, I guess. Let’s hope the Sheriff’s Office is more helpful. I can’t just go up there with nothing to go on but an anonymous phone call!
The woman that answered the phone seemed friendlier than the one that answered at the Work Camp, and seemed to actually want to help.
“I don’t see a Madeline Seaver listed in any of our reports, Ma’am. Let me just look under ‘Seaver’ if you like? ”
“Yes, please.”
Grace could hear the tap-tap of her fingers flying over a keyboard and a pause and then “I do have a Marcus Seaver, arrested for possession of marijuana, and resisting arrest… would that be who you are looking for?”
Grace started upon hearing that name. ‘Marcus’ was Maddy’s birth name and she would never reveal it or use it casually. She’d only told Grace the name once while they were both quite drunk.
She thought furiously for a moment, then answered “Yes, I think that is who I was looking for. Was sh-, was he charged or sentenced?” She knew the answer but wanted to confirm it.
“Yes, pled guilty to Possession of a Schedule Three Substance and sentenced to 11-29 at the Work Camp,” the officer replied.
“I see. Are prisoners allowed visitation, there?” she asked.
The woman immediately responded “Yes, on Sundays only, after church services — unless they are on restriction for rules violations.”
“Okay, thank you for your help!” Grace ended the call as the woman replied “You’re welcome!”
Grace consulted MapQuest and checked the route and found it would be roughly a 15 hour drive from her home in Minneapolis. She went into her bedroom and packed a small suitcase with several outfits and underclothes. Then she went to the bathroom for toiletries and makeup.
Within an hour Grace was on the road, a printout of the route in the passenger seat and a cigarette in hand; the stereo blasting with classic rock. At least it was looking to be good traveling weather.
As she drove, she worried a lot about Maddy and what could possibly have happened to her. Why she was in this fundamentalist work camp. Why a little pot had her sentenced to a year. Maddy, a criminal? I just don’t see it.
Grace sat in her motel room and flipped on the TV and lay back on her bed with the remote. She lit a cigarette and started channel surfing. However, she could find nothing but yet another Bush versus Kerry debate, and religious programming. She’d really hoped for a good movie or something fun but it was not to be. She sighed, shut off the television, and went to bed.
Since visitation was only allowed on Sundays and this was a Wednesday, Grace decided to visit the Sheriff’s Department and try to find out more details on Maddy and what had happened.
The town appeared to have just ‘Main Street’ with a few side roads and that was about it. The Sheriff’s office was next to the courthouse. She parked and went inside and found a deputy at the front counter waiting.
“What can I do for you, Ma’am?” he said with a smile.
“I’m checking on a friend that was arrested for a Schedule Three possession charge?”
“Okay. What’s the name of your friend?” he replied.
“You’d have her listed as Marcus Seaver.”
His expression went from friendly to stone-faced in a flash and Grace knew this was not going to go well.
“I don’t have to look that one up. Your friend was arrested for marijuana possession and pled guilty. He’s in the work camp. He was also dressed as a woman and called himself ‘Madeline Seaver’.” The deputy’s face twisted a bit as he finished speaking, obviously disgusted over the whole episode.
Grace responded and made her first big mistake of the day. “Look, whether you approve or not, my friend Madeline is Transgendered. She has had her gender changed on her Birth Certificate and Driver’s License just as I have. She is legally a woman and she shouldn’t be treated otherwise!”
The deputy looked at her as if she were something he’d scraped off his shoe and then replied “Seaver has a penis. He’s a man! We don’t hold to all this gender changin’ and homosexual kind of stuff around here. If you’re like him, I think you’d better be moving along, SIR.”
Grace considered several nasty replies but then staring at his badge made her quickly realize that antagonizing him would be pushing her luck. So she said “Thank you,” and walked back out the door.
Grace walked outside, aggravated and pissed off. She lit a cigarette and tried to calm down as she got back in her Jetta and started back to her motel. Oh I just despise bigoted idiots like that who think they know everything and judge everyone!
She walked down to the courthouse after she decided that talking to Maddy’s attorney might give her more information, assuming he was court-appointed. Since she didn’t call Grace when she was arrested, Grace assumed that this was the case.
The county clerk was very helpful and directed her down the street to the small law office of Lawrence Gibson. Her luck seemed to be changing as he was actually in the office and willing to talk to her.
“I’m sorry that I couldn’t do much more than I did. Your friend was facing a felony charge and we did a plea-bargain down to a misdemeanor.”
Grace replied tightly, “Yes, I got that much from that jerk of a deputy at the Sheriff’s office earlier. He was friendly until he found out Maddy was my friend and that we’re both transgendered.”
Gibson went from calm to alarmed. “You told him that you were like Seaver? Transgendered?”
Grace sighed and nodded. “Probably a mistake but I was angry.”
“Miss Carson, I would advise you to head straight to your motel and check out, then head out of here right now. There’s nothing that you can do for Seaver and you are risking a lot, including arrest, if you stick around.” Gibson appeared quite concerned and worried for her safety.
“Mr. Gibson, what are you implying? I’m an upstanding citizen; I shouldn’t have anything to worry about from that deputy! I’ve broken no laws!”
Gibson grimaced. “I believe you. But… look, I don’t necessarily approve of how things are done around here, but I have to live here. My family and I like it here and we tend to overlook the worst things, I suppose. I don’t want you to get in trouble. You really should leave town, today.”
“I… I’ll think about doing that, Mr. Gibson,” she replied, slowly. The man seemed to really think she was in danger of some sort.
“Good. I really don’t want to see you get into any trouble.” He stood up and offered his hand. Grace shook it and thanked him and went back to her car. She was quite confused and a little worried after that visit and was pondering what to do.
I can’t just run back home and leave Maddy here without at least seeing her one time! I will just have to be very careful not to break any laws or do anything that might piss off some redneck deputy.
Grace drove back to the motel, chosen as a safe haven to think. She sat in her room and contemplated what to do next. She’d already inquired about internet access at the motel and was informed that they didn’t do that internet stuff here.
She felt hungry and decided to try out the diner she’d seen just down the road. Not really feeling safe in the town after the lawyer’s consternation that she had outed herself as TG, she decided to drive the half-mile rather than walk.
She entered the diner and sat down. There were about a dozen people in the diner, eating and talking. The food smelled delicious, and when the waitress came over she ordered the special and was delighted when it was brought to her within a minute.
As she was finishing her meal she saw the deputy from the Sheriff’s office come in to the diner and mentally groaned. She hoped he wouldn’t notice her, or if he did, he’d ignore her.
It appeared that her luck was good. He sat at the bar and ordered a cup of coffee and Grace was just finished when she heard him key his walkie-talkie and say “I’m at Irene’s, and it’s here, too, eating.”
Grace, indignant, wanted to say something after being called an ‘it’. But her mother raised no fool. She went to the cash register and paid her bill and headed for the door. Once outside she decided that maybe the lawyer was right, and she should give this adventure up. She got in her car and drove back to the motel. As she pulled in, she saw a police car pull in behind her. The officer got out, but it was not the one from the courthouse and diner.
The officer walked up as she exited her car and she noticed he had a German shepherd dog on a leash. He said “Grace Carson?”
“Yes, I am Grace Carson, Officer.”
“I’m Sheriff Robinson. I wanted to talk to you about your friend, Marcus Seaver.”
Grace replied “Sure, what would you like to know, Sheriff?”
Before he could respond, his dog barked at Grace’s car, several short staccato barks.
The Sheriff eyed the dog and turned back to her. “At this time, I’d like to search your car, Miss Carson. You can refuse permission but then I’ll just call and get a warrant and we’ll search it anyway. “
“What are you searching for, Sheriff?”
“Drugs, Miss Carson. We’ve had an influx of them lately and we are being very careful with strangers these days in our town. If Otto here is wrong, why, then you can be about your business. No harm done.”
Grace nodded and said “Of course, search if you want. I have nothing to hide.”
Not thirty seconds of searching later before the Sheriff backed out of her car with a plastic baggie with some white powder in it. He raised an eyebrow and looked at Grace. “What’s this?”
Grace truthfully denied knowing what was in the baggie or even how it got into her car.
The Sheriff opened it, dipped his little finger in, and then tasted his finger. “Well, well, look what we got here. Cocaine, how about that?”
“That’s not mine! I don’t have any idea where that came from!” Grace said, semi-hysterically.
The Sheriff nodded and pulled out his handcuffs. “Miss Carson, at this time I am placing you under arrest for possession of cocaine, possibly with intent to distribute. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you…”
Grace sat fuming in the hard metal chair while the sheriff pawed through her purse, then finally dumped the contents on the chipped wooden table that was probably older than her.
He scooted the items around looking at each one carefully as if he expected to find a drug stash or explosives hidden in her Coach bag.
He nudged the deputy, “Make the list, Cal”. Cal nodded and began writing.
“Let’s see, one wallet, contents driver’s license, social security card, and let’s see… seventy-four dollars in cash and um, two dollars and eighty-six cents change. One VISA card, same name. One leather cigarette case - with a Bic lighter, color purple. One pack of Virginia Slims Lights cigarettes, unopened. Another Bic lighter, color pink. One lipstick. One compact. A packet of tissue...”
He went on through every single item in her purse while Grace tuned it out and thought furiously about whom she might call and what she could do.
“What have we here, Miss?”
Grace looked up and saw the sheriff holding her androgen blockers and her estrogen pill bottles side by side.
“Those are part of my gender therapy. I have prescriptions for both. You can call the pharmacy and check if you want to. The number is on the bottles.”
The sheriff frowned and handed the bottles to the deputy. “I don’t see why people want to just up and mess with what God made. I really don’t. But that’s neither here nor there, I guess. We still have you on possession of cocaine, Carson.”
“I keep telling you that wasn’t mine. Someone had to put it in my car. Maybe at a rest stop, I don’t know!”
“You can tell it to the judge, fag.”
Grace was photographed, fingerprinted, and stuck in a small cell overnight. At least she had the cell to herself. She considered that good fortune, indeed. She didn’t think that this bunch would put her with the women if there were other prisoners.
The next morning a deputy came and unlocked her cell door and said “Carson, you’ve got a visitor. Come with me.” Grace followed him to a small room with a table and two chairs. She was surprised to see Lawrence Gibson sitting in one of the chairs. The deputy nodded to Gibson and left the room, closing the door behind him.
“Hello again. I’m here as your court-appointed attorney, Miss Carson.”
“I didn’t ask for a court-appointed attorney, Mr. Gibson. I asked for a phone call! I have a right to one phone call!” she replied testily.
“Miss Carson, your rights are to representation, not necessarily to using a telephone. Be that as it may, you may of course represent yourself in court but I must strongly advise against it.”
He pulled out the chair across the table from her and sat down. “Shall we proceed, then?” he asked Grace. She nodded, not having a clue what else to do but trust the man.
Gibson picked up his briefcase and laid it on the table then flicked the closures and popped it open, retrieving a manila folder which he laid in front of himself. He opened it and looked it over. Grace could see her mug shot and various bits of info from her shiny new police record.
“Now Miss Carson, the Sheriff’s report says that one gram of powder cocaine was found in a plastic baggie in your car.”
“That wasn’t mine! They planted it there!” she angrily replied.
“Whether they planted it or not is irrelevant right now Miss Carson.” He lowered his voice and said “I did tell you to leave town… now you know why.” Grace sighed and nodded.
“I have bad news and I have good news for you. First, I’ll give you the bad news. You are looking at a Schedule II Substance violation — First Offense. Here in Colorado that is a Class 3 Felony. That is four to twelve years in prison, and anywhere between a three thousand and a seven-hundred-fifty thousand dollar fine.”
Grace gasped and sat there stunned beyond comprehension.
“Now, for the good news. The DA here is pretty lenient on first-time offenders with such a small amount and we can probably get this plea-bargained down to a Misdemeanor. That would mean serving a year or less at worst.”
“Mr. Gibson, why would I plea-bargain? I don’t do drugs, and I certainly don’t sell drugs either! That Sheriff planted that cocaine in my car! Or someone did!” Grace responded heatedly.
Gibson sighed and took off his reading glasses and looked at her sadly. “Look, let me be very blunt and just lay this out for you, Carson. It is your word against the Sheriff’s word here. I know you are transgendered, and that doesn’t fly around here well at all. So, you tell me… if this goes to a jury who will they believe? A Godless tranny or a duly-elected Sheriff that they all know and voted for last election?”
“I suppose they wouldn’t believe a word that I said,” she answered. “But, my being transgendered shouldn’t enter into this at all!”
Gibson snorted. “You got that right, Grace. You’d be headed for prison before you knew what hit you! I’d advise you to sign the plea bargain agreement and serve your time for a misdemeanor. If this was just marijuana you could have maybe gotten off with a fine; but this was cocaine and you will serve time. As for being transgendered… look, the law doesn’t enter into that, here. They are sickened and disturbed by folks like you. They don’t understand and don’t want to understand.”
Grace nodded sadly.
“It won’t be easy on you in this. The judge will almost certainly send you to the work camp, since our jail here is only two cells, as you saw. All I can advise you to do is behave yourself, obey their orders, and keep your head down.”
Grace sighed and signed the paper. I don’t think that there’s any other choice.
“All right, Grace. Court is tomorrow morning at nine. I’ll see you there.” He swept up the paper work into his briefcase and knocked on the door. Grace was escorted back to her cell to sit, alone.
The Bailiff thundered out in the courtroom: “The defendant will rise.” Grace and her attorney stood up.
The judge read over the plea bargain agreement and looked at Grace. “Do you understand that you are pleading guilty to a Schedule Three Possession, which is a Misdemeanor?”
Grace replied “Yes, I do, your Honor.”
“Very well. You have pled guilty of the charge of ‘Possession of a Schedule Three Drug’, amount one ounce, and I therefore sentence you to eleven months and twenty-nine days. To be served at the Carpenter’s Light Work Farm. Early release is dependent upon your behavior and reports from the camp’s liaison with the court. Take the prisoner away.” The judge smacked his gavel.
She looked toward her court-appointed attorney as she was pulled away but he just waved goodbye and began packing up his paperwork into the briefcase he’d arrived with.
The gavel smacked again and before Grace could even think of a response the deputies whisked her away and out the courtroom door. They bundled her into the back of a patrol car and headed for the work camp.
Grace thought, “Well, I wanted to see Maddy. I guess this is one way of doing that!”
Chapter 2: How Sweet the Sound
Grace discovers the joys of her new home at the work camp, and meets lots of new friends.
In religion and politics people's beliefs and convictions are in almost every case gotten at second-hand, and without examination, from authorities who have not themselves examined the questions at issue but have taken them at second-hand from other non-examiners, whose opinions about them were not worth a brass farthing. — Mark Twain
As the police car slowed on the rough gravel road and pulled up to a closed gate with a small wooden guard shack, Grace looked out all the windows to see her surroundings. Forest lay on both sides of the gate, bisected by an eight-foot high chain-link fence. Grace noticed the razor concertina wire wound liberally along the top of the fence as well. “This would not be an easy place to escape from,” she thought.
The gates were opened and the deputy rolled through and followed a gently curving gravel path up to a group of buildings. The whole installation looked very military. Three flagpoles were in a roundabout in the center of the buildings, with the United States flag on the right, the Colorado state flag on the left, and what appeared, to Grace, to be a Christian flag in the center — elevated above the other two. Grace wondered about that. “Hmm. The US Flag is supposed to be in the center, as I recall.”
The car stopped and the deputy got out and opened her door. She exited the car and stood, looking around at the various buildings. The buildings were all simple wood-framed buildings, nothing special. She saw signs on most of them. “Men’s Quarters”, “Women’s Quarters”, “Men’s Latrine”, “Women’s Latrine”, “Mess Hall”, “Maintenance”.
The deputy took her arm and led her toward a building labeled “Administration”. Once inside they passed a woman at a desk, which Grace figured was the one she talked to that would tell her nothing. They passed several closed doors, most of which were unlabeled. The deputy stopped in front of one labeled ‘Prisoner Intake’, opened the door, and brought her inside.
Grace immediately and without the slightest hesitation decided she didn’t like James “Jimbo” Callahan at all. In fact, she felt scared of him from the moment he walked into the holding room. His round face had a slight reddish hue to it and his sparse thinning hair was in a military style buzz-cut. He was wearing a white short-sleeved shirt with a black tie and black dress pants. The shirt looked starched and didn’t show a single wrinkle or crease.
He looked down at her with a fierce expression on his face and held his hand out to the deputy, who put Grace’s purse into Jimbo’s hand.
“We don’t take kindly to fags running around our town, pretending to be women. So keep that in mind. A man could get himself hurt, trying to fool people into thinking he was a woman. We’re gonna get you right with God, fag. Now, what’s your name?”
“Grace Carson, as you can see on my driver’s license right there?” Grace bit the words out but she strived to be civil.
Jimbo snorted, “No matter, we’ll find out your right name soon enough. The Devil has you in darkness but once you see the light you will go back to your proper name my friend. My name is Jim Callahan. I am in charge of the prisoner intake around here. You’ll learn to jump when I say to jump, or you’ll be one sorry fag.”
He turned away from her. The deputy nodded at him and left, and soon she heard his patrol car head off.
“Now, for our contraband search…”
He unceremoniously turned the purse upside down over the small table and dumped all of her things out. He snorted right away. “Virginia Slims? Of course. You effeminate fags love these girly cigarettes don’t you? Well, we have a rule here: no tobacco whatsoever. Cigarettes are often the wedge Satan uses to slide right on into your life. So, say goodbye to your faggy smokes, buddy.”
Grace would have happily slit the man’s throat for the chance to light up one of those ‘faggy’ smokes but instead had to watch as he crushed the unopened pack and dropped it into a metal wastebasket beside the table. Her black leather cigarette case followed it, along with her spare lighter.
“Now, let’s see here. Lipstick, makeup, my oh my, you really are on the express lane to Hell aren’t you?” All of her makeup followed the cigarettes into the garbage can. Following that was her hairbrush, and even her pens and tissue.
He paused, glanced at Grace with a flat expression, and pulled out her hormones and blockers. He brandished the bottles at her and shook his head sadly back and forth. “I am not going to throw these evil pills away, my friend. You are going to, one day real soon now, while begging Jesus to forgive you for your filthy perversions. Not likely He will, mind you. But, we do try.”
Grace knew the only begging that she planned to do was to her lawyer (once she found a hungry enough one) to sue these idiots for every penny they had or would earn for the next decade.
Her beautiful Coach purse followed everything else into the garbage. All that was left on the table was her wallet and the two medicine bottles. He opened the wallet and extracted everything from it then tossed the wallet into the can as well.
“Now, fairy, it’s time to meet the Reverend. He will get you sorted out with God before you even know it!”
Grace had expected a big man, likely overweight and sweaty with a fanatical light in his eyes. The Reverend Jonathan Hayes was tall, but only slightly overweight. He did indeed have a fanatical look and his eyes seemed to see things in the distance that nobody else could see. The overall feeling that she had upon seeing him was revulsion. He could have done well as a slick car salesman or politician.
“Well now, another young man in Satan’s clutches I see!” he boomed at Grace as he walked over to her. She noticed that he was well over six feet tall and loomed over her. “I’m Jonathan Hayes, and I run this camp. You’re here on a work-release program we have set up with the Sheriff. If you can behave, learn what we teach you and show progress you will leave here a happy and healthy man.”
Grace decided to try for calm reason, first. “Look, this is all a big mistake. I came here to find my friend, and that is the only reason I am here. I broke no laws, which is more than I can say for you! I was brought here on phony drug charges! You have no right to take my things and treat me like this. When I get out of here-“
SMACK! Jimbo stepped close and casually backhanded her across the mouth with a severe look on his face. “Young man, the first thing you need to learn here is respect.”
The Reverend Hayes did not even seem to notice anything had happened. “Now, young man, what is your name?” he said.
Grace replied “My name is Grace Carson.”
This earned her another smack from Jimbo. “Lying is not tolerated here, fag. The Reverend asked your real name, not your fake fag name! Now what is it?”
Grace wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth and raised her voice slightly in frustration, “My legal name is Grace Carson, as you can see on my Driver’s Lic-“ SMACK! SMACK! Jimbo hit her twice more.
Hayes became incensed. “How dare you profane a beautiful woman’s name like ‘Grace’ by taking it unto yourself, boy. I know you are demonically controlled but that is no excuse and God sure won’t see it that way. You’re a man! God made you that way! It is complete and utter sick perversion to parade around in women’s clothes and call yourself a woman!”
Jimbo smacked her again. Reverend Hayes raised a hand, slightly, and Jimbo backed away. “It seems you are deep in Satan’s power, my friend. No matter, in time we will strip away the lies and the power of Jesus will reveal all. You will tell us your real name, friend. In good time.” Another guard came into the room and came over to stand beside Grace, with Jimbo moving to her other side.
Hayes nodded and they each took one of her arms. “Now, I need you to strip, young man.”
“I will do no such thing!”
Hayes gestured and the two men began tearing off her clothes as she struggled. She kneed one in the crotch and he groaned and pulled away. Jimbo let her go and opened the door and said “Got a feisty one in here!” and was handed a cattle prod! He said nothing but walked over, jabbed it into her side, and pulled the trigger on it.
Grace dropped to the floor screaming in agony as the high voltage ripped through her and she felt intense burning where the sharp contacts of the cattle prod jabbed into her skin. He held it in place and bore down on it while holding the trigger until Hayes raised his hand. He then pulled it away and the three men stood there watching her convulsions slowly ease off. The man she had kneed in the crotch was glaring at her.
Hayes spoke up “Now, young man, we will try this again. I hope that was a learning experience for you.”
He gestured at her and Jimbo and her glaring victim hauled her to her feet and began to rip her clothing away.
Both men were quite muscular and soon had her blouse, shoes, jeans, and even her bra ripped off. Once the bra was clear her perky C-cups stood out. Rather than ogling them as most men would, the three men looked disgusted.
“I had hoped you were wearing breast forms, but no, Satan has had you in his power for far too long. You’ve mutilated the male body that God gave you! And you are obviously possessed by more than one demon, young man. Don’t be afraid! We will help you regain your freedom! This I swear before God himself my friend!”
He gestured and Jimbo ripped off Grace’s panties, allowing a slightly atrophied penis and testes to appear. Reverend Hayes nodded in satisfaction at seeing this. “It’s good you haven’t mutilated your male parts, too. There is hope we can put you back on the right track.”
Jimbo was facing Grace and only she could see his face while Reverend Hayes was talking and she noticed that he grimaced when Hayes mentioned putting her back on the “right track”. Interesting, she thought.
A woman entered the room carrying a bundle of clothing, which she sat on the table, then turned and left without a word. Hayes gestured at the bundle. “These are your clothes, now. Go ahead and put them on. Cover your nakedness.”
Grace frowned as she went through the various items of clothing in the bundle. A pair of men’s boxer shorts, white, and starched. A men’s tee shirt, a white long-sleeved dress shirt (also starched). A pair of khaki pants, and a black tie.
As they’d taken the remains of her clothing away, she decided that, for now, she’d play along with this insanity. I don’t want any more of that cattle prod, no way!
She quickly slipped on the boxers, grimacing at how rough and stiff they felt. This was followed by the pants, the shirt, and then the sandals she found underneath it all. She held up the tie and looked at Hayes. “I have no idea how this thing works.”
Hayes rolled his eyes and Jimbo snickered. “You won’t need that right now. The tie is required for Sunday Services but throughout the week you won’t need it.”
Hayes looked her up and down and shook his head. “You make a poor man right now, my friend. But with God’s help I hope and prayer we can change that. Now, let me explain the rules, here in our little camp.”
He walked away from her then turned back and recited what sounded like a well-practiced routine.
“First and foremost there is to be NO physical or sexual contact between yourself and any other person here, unless and until you are instructed otherwise. If you are caught breaking that rule, the punishment is quite severe. You will not practice your fag perversions with other men here. We will not tolerate it! There are younger men and women here who are not inmates. They are here by their parents’ request to be cured of their inclinations to choose the fag lifestyle that has become so popular in these Last Days. If you are found to be encouraging those youngsters in perversions, or gainsaying our attempts to cure them the consequences will be severe.”
“Second, in every barracks there is a Guidebook with our rules. They are to be followed. We follow God’s commandments strictly, here. That means no stealing, no lying, no disrespecting your elders — that would be the staff, here. Needless to say there are no drugs, tobacco, alcohol or anything like that here nor is it tolerated. Your days of smoking, abusing drugs, and boozing are over.”
Grace felt it wouldn’t get her far to mention that she had never abused any drugs and rarely drank.
“Thirdly, you are a prisoner here serving your sentence. Attempting to escape can and will be met with deadly force, when required. You are an inmate, and keep that in mind if you get any notions to try to flee. Our camp guards are armed and do have the authority to shoot you if you are seen trying to escape.”
Lovely, she thought.
“You will live in one of the male barracks with the other men who are inmates. You will be expected to keep your area spotless at all times. Failure to do so means punishments.”
Of course it does, you sanctimonious prick.
“You will be expected to work in the garden. We grow most of our own food here. We also have livestock you will help take care of. You will also, at times, be on work details. Clearing brush, trees, putting up fencing, things like that.”
“The camp is about 500 acres and is entirely fenced in. You will be shown what areas you are allowed in and told about the ones you are not.”
“And last, but not least...” Hayes walked right up to her and looked down with what might have been sympathy. “You will be taught to be a Man again, my friend. We will try to pull you from Satan’s clutches and bring you into the Light of Christ. If you will just try to meet us halfway we can turn your life around.”
“Did you understand everything that I said, Mr. Carson?” Hayes said.
Grace simply nodded.
“Do you have any questions?”
Grace thought for a moment, carefully, and decided that these people were nuts and anything she asked or said would get her nothing but more abuse.
“No, sir, I don’t.”
Hayes smiled at her. “Sir, eh? I like to see some respect from our new inmates, and it’s nice to not have to teach them that right off, isn’t it Jimbo?”
Jimbo nodded. “Yes, Reverend, let’s just hope this one can be saved, as well.”
“Well then, Carson, there’s one last thing we need to take care of before we settle you in.” He turned to the door and tapped, and was handed a small metal case. He sat that on the table and opened it. Inside were scissors and a hair trimmer. Grace knew what was coming and her emotions went on overload. “NO, please, don’t cut my hair! Noooo!”
Jimbo and the guard held her while Hayes whacked her hair off to within a few inches of her scalp. He then took the trimmer and plugged it in, and shaved her head, leaving roughly an inch of hair. She now had a buzz-cut.
Grace sat sobbing and staring at the remains of her hair scattered in the floor below her. This is worse in some ways than that damn cattle-prod.
Jimbo grabbed Grace by the upper arm and led her out of the room, down the hallway, and outside. Once they were outside he stopped and looked at her. “I know what you’re thinking, faggot. You’re already plotting to try to escape. All I can say is, please, try! We haven’t got to shoot a fag in months!”
He led Grace to a small nondescript building with no label on it. Once inside she was pushed into the lone chair occupying the room and Jimbo began tying her to the chair very tightly. Each arm was bound to a chair arm, and her legs bound to the chair legs. She couldn’t move at all.
Within a few minutes five men and one woman walked into the room. Reverend Hayes was in the lead, carrying a Bible. They all knelt down in the floor around Grace’s chair. Grace would have found some amusement in all of this if not for the fact she was scared out of her wits and still in tears over the loss of her hair.
Reverend Hayes was right in front of her, beside him was Jimbo. All of them had their eyes tightly closed with sweat rolling down their faces. The room was very hot and there was no ventilation at all. They began praying, out loud.
The strangest part to her was that all of them were praying as if they were alone. In her still half-conscious state all the words seemed to run together into a buzz. But the same phrases kept cropping up from each and every one of them. The Reverend seemed to be reading a Bible story in the midst of all the prayers.
“Dear Lord… save this poor man from Satan’s demons!” “The power of Jesus compels you!” “…he lived among the tombs…” “flee the power of Jesus you foul demons” “…and no one could bind him any more, not even with a chain…” “You cannot stand against the power of Christ Himself!” “…and when Jesus saw from afar, he ran and FELL DOWN BEFORE HIM! (AMEN!)” “Amen!” “Amen brother!” “…and crying out with a loud voice, he said ‘What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God?...” “ohh preach it Brother Hayes, drive the unclean spirit out!”
Grace tried to tune it all out and experimentally wiggled in her chair, but she found the ropes around her were cruelly tight and she had absolutely no leeway to move in any direction.
Grace sighed and thought to herself “are they expecting my head to spin around and for me to vomit split-pea soup?”
After nearly two solid hours of ‘Prayer Power” directed at her, Grace was ready to say anything or do anything just to get them to shut up. She didn’t even have the luxury of dozing off during this madness — as every time she closed her eyes or let her head droop she got a jolt from a cattle prod Jimbo had brought into the room. Two of those were enough to make sure she looked alert and paid attention.
Grace decided to confess her sinful ways and try to convince them that her demons had fled in terror from their incredible Prayer Power. She opened her mouth but before the first word was out Reverend Hayes pointed at her and screamed “Be silent! You shall not speak or utter your blasphemies until we have completed our prayer meeting!”
She closed her mouth and endured.
After what seemed hours of prayer, chanting, and exhortations for demons to flee Grace’s body, one of the women in the group took a Sharpie marker out of a drawer. She uncapped it and walked around to Grace’s right side while one of the guards grabbed Grace’s fingers and held them tight. This had the effect, combined with the bonds around the arm of the chair, of making her unable to move her hand even slightly. The woman slowly and carefully inscribed the numbers 6 6 6 on the back of Grace’s right hand with the Sharpie.
Hayes helpfully explained that “We cannot get the demonic force out of you at the moment, so you are marked as one of Satan’s own, you see. That identifies you to all as a source of evil, not to be trusted, and not to be let out of camp alone.”
Grace sighed and stared at her new semi-permanent tattoo as they untied her from the chair.
Grace neither responded nor offered any resistance as she was led outside the Administration building and towards the building marked ‘Men’s Barracks’. They entered and to Grace it looked like what she thought an Army barracks would look like. A row of beds down each side flanking an open aisle, and a door on the other end labeled ‘Barracks Supervisor’.
They marched down the aisle, and Grace found herself being examined as they walked by each cot. She noticed some of the men were already sleeping, but a few were awake. She spotted Maddy right off and almost gasped.
Maddy grinned at her and held out her hand, palm down, displaying her own ‘6 6 6’ logo. Grace laughed and held her own out. Maddy said “Welcome, Sister of Evil!”
The guard frowned and said “In bed with you or you’ll earn a Demerit. You know it is quiet time! Either read your Bible or sleep! You know the rules!”
Maddy winked at Grace and mouthed “talk later”, then lay down on her cot. Grace was led all the way to the end where an empty cot awaited.
“This is your sleep area. You know to keep it clean and neat?” the guard said. Grace nodded.
“Good. You’ll not like it if you don’t. This is your nightstand. Your Bible is in this drawer.” He opened the drawer and pointed to a Bible.
“I suggest you read it often, you really do need it. Oh and it is after nine PM and that means no talking, no anything but sleeping or reading. There’s a Guidebook here, too. ‘Lights Out’ at ten PM sharp.” He handed a slim manual to Grace. “You need to read that. Good night and God Bless.” He left.
Grace looked around the room and was debating going to visit Maddy’s cot when she spotted the first camera up in the trusses of the room. The barracks was very Spartan construction and as such there was no ceiling, just wooden trusses and the lighting fixtures stretched across them, each with 2 fluorescent bulbs. She spotted one camera right off, then upon closer examination found that there were eight cameras total.
Sheesh these people are a paranoid and controlling bunch. I guess I’ll have to wait and visit Maddy later on.
She thumbed through the Guidebook, noticing the list of rules went on for endless pages. I am totally not in the mood for more of their propaganda right now — I’ll read it later.
She slipped off her pants and shirt and crawled into her cot, covered up, and was soon asleep.
Grace awoke to the sound of reveille coming from several speakers around the barracks. She heard several groans but saw people stirring to life. There was no clock visible anywhere but the guidebook had stated that six AM was wake-up time. As she sat up and looked around she noticed fresh folded clothes on her nightstand. She also noticed a smiling man staring at her from near the foot of her bed.
When her eyes met his he gave a big grin and walked over to her. “Hi, Mr. Carson! My name is Pete and I will be your Mentor!” He offered his hand and when Grace shook with him he squeezed her hand almost painfully and shook her hand up and down with enthusiasm. His thousand watt smile dimmed a moment when he took in her unbound breasts but it returned quickly.
“So, what’s your first name, my new brother in Christ-to-be? I can’t keep calling you Mr. Carson!” He grinned in a friendly fashion and actually winked.
“It’s Grace. Grace Carson,” she replied.
Pete’s smile went away as if turned off by a switch. “Err, no, we don’t do that here, Carson. I guess we will just have to use your last name for now.” He shook his head, then brightened up once more.
“Do you like our little home here, Carson? I know you didn’t exactly volunteer to join us, but if you’ll just let Jesus into your heart I think you’ll find this place is actually wonderful!”
Grace immediately wanted to strangle this overly cheerful wretch who seemed to want to hover all over her. “Oh, it’s just a wonderful place, Pete. How could anyone not love it?” She gave a big phony smile showing her teeth.
Apparently good old Pete had at least some sense and backed away out of her personal space and back to the foot of the cot.
He rubbed his hands together and the cheer erupted like the sun from behind the clouds once more. “Now, Carson, I am here to be your helper! I will help you in any way that I can and make your life better. You can count on your Mentor to get you all set up here and on the right track!”
“Can you get me out of this camp?”
“Err, no.”
“Can you get me a phone?”
“Umm, no. Inmates aren’t allowed ph-”
“Internet access?”
“Oh, no! The internet is Satan’s Playground.”
“Ah, yes. Of course it is, my bad. How about a cigarette?”
“Good Lord, no! Those foul things? How can you poison yourself with-”
“How about some coffee?”
“We don’t pollute our bodies with caffeine, either!”
Grace cocked an eye at Pete and said “So far you’re not making my life a whole lot better, there, Petey.”
“It’s Pete, not Petey, Carson.”
“Whatever. Ok how about breakfast?”
The big smile returned. “Now that I can help you with! If you want to get dressed I’ll take you over for Morning Mess and Blessings.”
“Oh, great. I love me some Morning Blessings! Let me get ready.”
Grace dressed in the freshly laundered (and heavily starched) shirt, then pants and slipped on her sandals and off they went. The rest of the inmates had filtered out the door while she and her New Best Friend had been chatting.
As they walked she gave Pete a good examination. He was around her age, probably younger. There was no writing on his hands, not that she expected to see any. His hair was cut in the same crew-cut that every man here sported. He didn’t seem to ‘get’ her sarcasm in the slightest. Usually in her experience that meant lower intelligence.
The Mess Hall was a short walk across the compound. She spotted the first female inmates on their walk to breakfast. Many of the inmates had the ever-popular ‘6 6 6’ inked on their right hands as hers was. She reflexively raised her own hand and looked at it.
Pete noticed and spoke up “It’s not permanent you know. If you will accept Christ and repent of your sins it can be erased — just as the stain of sin can be erased from your soul!”
Grace confined her response to an eye-roll.
As she was finishing her tasteless oatmeal and trying very hard not to barf, a guard walked in and whispered in Pete’s ear. All she heard from Pete was an “Oh, dear. Okay, we’ll get over there in just a few. Thank you!”
Grace raised an eyebrow at Pete and he muttered “You didn’t read your Guidebook, did you, Carson?”
She shook her head while swallowing the goop and trying not to think about it. “I read some of it.”
Pete sighed. “Carson, you are responsible for keeping your sleeping area neat and orderly — and you left a mess. We have to head back over there after you eat.”
Grace thought for just a split second and pushed her bowl of goo away and said “Let’s go, I’m… full.”
Pete frowned, then nodded and they left the Mess Hall. Whatever was making him frown would have to wait.
They walked into the barracks and ran into a glowering woman near Grace’s cot. Pete stepped between them and smiled. “Carson this is Mrs. Watson. She’s your Barracks Warden! Mrs. Watson this is Carson.”
The woman, about forty, Grace thought, was in a pale blue dress with her hair tied in a tight bun. She had lots of frown wrinkles and an expression that seemed as if she had been eating lemons.
“Well. Mister Carson! Were you not warned about keeping your sleeping area clean young man?” She pointed to Grace’s discarded clothing at the foot of the cot. “We do not leave our clothing lying around. You are not a child. And we make our bed before we leave for the day. You have earned yourself one demerit, young man!”
After her speech she whipped out a black notebook and flipped pages till she presumably came to Grace’s page and dramatically wrote in the book.
Grace frowned and looked around, noticing that every other cot in the building but hers was neatly made up and looked quite orderly. She decided that she’d better read that stupid Guidebook to avoid any further problems.
She was about to settle in to reading it when she noticed a man looking at her, standing beside the next cot over.
The man was a gay man named Jay Benson. He smiled at Grace and asked her name. When she told him, it was refreshing to see none of the facial expressions that most of the whack-jobs around this town exhibited.
“Well, Grace, I would say that it is nice to meet you… hah, well it is nice to meet you, but I think we’d both agree that the circumstances could be so much better! I would offer to shake hands but physical contact is against the rules, you know.”
“No, I don’t know, but I do need to read this book and find out I suppose,” she replied.
He nodded and said “Yes I’d recommend that. There are a lot of rules here and it is way too easy to earn demerits. So, do read that thoroughly, Grace. We’ll talk later I am sure!” He smiled at her and went off.
Nobody came to bark any orders at her so she began to read the Guidebook. Jay wasn’t kidding at all; the rules went on for pages and pages. She wasn’t allowed to touch anyone without permission. She wasn’t allowed to ‘blaspheme’ or to ‘take the name of the Lord in vain’ or have sex or touch herself in her ‘private places.’
She would be attending weekly classes on how perverted her life was and how evil people who were LGBT were.
The Guidebook explained in gory detail the eternal punishments awaiting them all in Hell. There would be classes to explain how homosexuality was invented by Satan to damn mankind.
Grace snorted often reading the book and did a lot of eye-rolling.
One thing that didn’t make her laugh was the paragraph on demerits:
‘When an Inmate reaches 5 Demerits, that Inmate shall receive a public caning. Each Demerit will equal one lash of the cane. Inmates are strongly advised to obey the rules and the staff to avoid such outcomes. All Inmates shall attend the weekly canings on Monday evenings. Upon reaching 10 demerits, inmates will be whipped.'
Grace was shocked and, not for the first time, scared. Wow, and I already have one Demerit for not being neat and tidy, from that old bag. Great.
She also learned that she had to obey her Mentor in all things. She had to shower at specific times and do chores at specific times. Every single rule had warnings about Demerits if she broke one of them. Failure to do an ‘adequate’ level of work led to Demerits. ‘Laziness’ led to Demerits.
Showing ‘disrespect to any staff member or fellow inmate’ equaled Demerits as well.
Grace threw the book to the side, irritated. This isn’t a work camp, this is fucking Auschwitz! All we need is a sign on the gate that says ‘Arbeit Macht Frei’!
Her least favorite staff member chose that moment to appear. “Well, why are you lazing about in bed, Carson?” Mrs. Watson exclaimed. “We do not tolerate laziness and sloth here. You just earned another demerit, young man.” She whipped out her book and noted it.
Grace sighed. “Look, nobody told me that I need to be anywhere or do anything! There’s no need to be a bitch about this. Tell me where I am supposed to be then!”
That earned her another demerit for calling Mrs. Watson a bitch.
Great, I have three now. I foresee a caning in my immediate future.
Mrs. Watson shook her head at her newest charge. “I can tell you are going to be trouble, young man. If you’d bothered to come ask me I would have told you where you needed to be.”
Grace bit back her sarcasm and nearly choked on it. She then said “Mrs. Watson, where should I be right now?”
Mrs. Watson smirked. “Now you ask. It’s Friday, so you should be helping in the laundry. There’s a schedule on the board down there by the door. I’d suggest you read it, Carson.” She sniffed, and stalked off towards her office.
Grace put her fresh uniform on and made her cot up so that it was as neat as the other cots, then took yesterday’s dirty clothing to the hamper near Watson’s office. She dropped them in; then headed down to the board to see what her schedule looked like. She saw this:
There were not any time frames listed but Grace figured out each of the three blocks was probably roughly five hours — which later turned out to be the case. Grace thought Sunday looked like a day that she’d not enjoy.
It looks like today is Laundry Day all day for me! She wandered outside to find where the laundry was done.
Approaching a guard or another inmate seemed to be the best strategy to find the laundry area so she quickly found a guard and was curtly directed to a building behind the Mess Hall. Inside, she found sweating male and female inmates washing, drying, ironing, starching, and folding clothing.
A balding man in the inevitable white shirt and tie, holding a clipboard, walked over to her, and looked her up and down. He then looked at his clipboard and said “Carson?”
Grace nodded.
“I’m Ray. I’m in charge here. And you’re late, Carson. You were supposed to be here almost an hour ago. You just earned yourself a demerit. Now, get over there and start loading and unloading the washers.” He, too, seemed to have eaten lemons for breakfast, much like her favorite Barracks Warden.
Grace paled, and then ran over to the washers. Ugh, four now. One more and I get to experience caning.
It didn’t take long to learn that Laundry Day would not be a fun day for Grace. The work was hot, demanding, and there were no rest breaks. They were allowed a two minute water break in the middle of their shift. No talking was allowed. Grace found this rule out when she started to make small talk with a fellow inmate.
“Carson! There’s no talking and fraternizing here. You are here to work, not socialize! That’s another demerit for you!”
Grace bit her lip to keep from blowing up at this asshole martinet and went back to work without saying a word.
Rivers of sweat ran down Grace’s back. She had to heave huge bags of laundry from a cart, unload the bag into an industrial washing machine, put a cup of powder in and start it up. Once that was done, the next bag was to be loaded. Once the cart was empty it had to be moved over to the drying area.
Lunch couldn’t come soon enough, and when Ray blew a whistle and called out “Lunch!” she was ecstatic. As she headed to the door, Ray called out to her. “I’ll see you back here in exactly thirty minutes, Carson, or you get two more demerits. Clear?”
Grace, always a fast learner, replied “Yes, sir,” and fled for the Mess Hall.
She entered the Mess Hall, hoping against hope that Lunch would be tastier than the unappetizing goo she’d been served for breakfast. She got in line with the others and grabbed a plastic tray and a plate, and a plastic fork and spoon. I guess nobody will be making shanks in this particular prison!
The food was better than high school cafeteria food. The vegetables were all fresh. The meat was a piece of bologna. There was one slice of bread, only. She cleaned her plate and ran back to the Laundry, fearful she’d be late. She entered and found herself alone with Ray.
“Well, that was quick! You weren’t hungry, Carson?” he said.
“I already ate, sir. I just hurried back because I didn’t know how much time I had.”
He laughed at her and pointed to a clock on the wall above the dryers. “Not too bright are you, Carson? You had fifteen minutes left. You can go ahead and get back to work.”
By the end of the day, Grace was too exhausted to do anything but fall in her cot and was asleep within a minute.
The next morning Pete appeared shortly after she was awakened. He was all smiles, as usual. “Good morning, Carson! How are we today?”
Grace groaned. “We are sore. We are tired. We worked all day in that stinking hellhole that you people call a Laundry.”
Pete frowned. “Carson, you really need to be careful of saying things like that. Otherwise you could end up-“
“It’s much too late to warn him. That’s another demerit, Carson. For speaking ill of our camp.” She gleefully marked down another in her little book, and then grinned at Grace. “Well, look at this. That makes six demerits for you. You have an appointment with the cane, come Monday!”
She walked back to her office, looking quite cheerful.
“What a sadistic bitch she is,” said Grace.
Pete jumped as if someone had stuck a needle in his butt. “Carson! Watch what you say! You’re already up for six licks, you don’t want more!”
Grace nodded, too tired to argue about it.
“Come on now, let’s go to breakfast. After that, I’ll take you to the garden and get you started on your day!”
Grace marched off with Pete to another unappetizing breakfast. She didn’t want to finish her food.
“Well, Carson, I know it’s not that great but we can’t be wasting food the Lord has provided. If you don’t eat, you get —“
“Oh wait! I got this one. I get demerits! Right?!” Grace yelled.
Pete shrunk back but nodded. “Of course.”
“Wow, imagine that. More demerits! A lucky guess on my part, huh?”
Pete shook his head and went back to finishing his own meal.
The garden was actually pretty. Grace was a city girl but the vast area that the camp used for a garden was mostly all planted and growing in the May sunshine. She liked what she saw.
Pete brought Grace over to a small building where a man sat. He was older than anyone she has seen here, yet. He wore a straw hat and overalls. His name was Fred Butler, and she was later to learn that he was 79 years old.
“Carson. Have you ever worked in a garden before? Or grown vegetables?” His expression looked as if he doubted Grace even knew what a vegetable was.
“No, sir. I’ve never done either.”
Butler snorted and shook his head, then nodded at Pete, who gave them both a cheerful wave and headed away.
“Come with me then, young... man. Let’s get you started.”
He handed her an implement she recognized as a hoe, and then led her on a short walk to one area in the vast cultivated fields. He pointed at rows of plants that were about a foot high. “These here are tomato plants, Carson. Make sure you recognize them. Got that?”
“Yes, sir, I can identify them now,” Grace replied.
“Good man! Now, all you need to do is go down each row here. Use your hoe to chop away anything that isn’t a tomato plant. Like this.” To demonstrate, he used his own hoe to cut away some small weeds growing here and there around the plant in front of him.
“Now, once you’ve got your weeds under control, use the hoe to chop up the ground like I am doing and pull the loose dirt around the plant a little, like this.”
Grace watched and grasped the basics and nodded.
“I’ll leave you to it. There’s water here whenever you need a drink. Just come get it, don’t worry about permission or anything. Bathroom around the side, there. I’ll call for you when it’s lunchtime.”
Grace nodded and went to work. That old man is the nicest one in the entire nuthouse, so far. He still probably thinks I am some kind of freak but at least he was nice enough not to say it.
She found that she didn’t mind the work at all. It got her away from the crazies, and let her just enjoy the peace and quiet and the outdoors. Nobody came near her or bothered her so she just focused on her work and tried to not think too much about canings or demerits.
After a full day of gardening, she sat in her cot, reflecting on things before she went to sleep. Grace decided that Saturdays would probably be her favorite day if the schedule stayed as it was. She actually learned some things, and the work was not too bad, at least not compared to the laundry.
She fell asleep before they turned out the lights, hoping tomorrow’s “Day of Rest” would actually mean some real rest.
Chapter 3: That Saved a Wretch Like Me
Grace attends "church", talks with her friend, and is Disciplined.
Chapter 3 That Saved a Wretch Like Me
“Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe.” ”• Albert Einstein
Grace had been brought to the work camp on a Thursday. It was now Sunday morning and she was informed that she must wear her tie to church services. She didn’t think much of that plan at all. Oh, joy, I get to wear my new tie. Will the wonderful blessings never stop coming?
Grace was quite shocked when they were all herded onto a battered old school-bus and told to take a seat. The women sat on one side, the men on the other. She sighed but said nothing as she was directed to the men’s side of the bus, sharing a seat with one of the quieter inmates. She didn’t even know his name, and he didn’t say a word to her as she sat down.
She was shocked again as the bus left the camp through the open gates and trundled down the gravel road to the main road. The bus rolled along about a mile and pulled in a gravel parking lot in front of a simple church with a large sign flanked by brick columns by the road. “The Carpenter’s Light Chapel; Rev. Jonathan Hayes; The Wages of Sin Is Death!”
Grace noted the two armed guards eyeing them like hawks as they stepped down off the bus. They were ushered inside and drifted in to the church. She heard a muted buzz and was surprised to find the place was packed. Apparently most, or all, of the town attended church here.
The chapel was a simple affair, inside resembling an old-time one-room church that used to dot the land across the country. Hard wooden pews lined up in two sections with an aisle between them, leading up to the pulpit. The pulpit was a simple wooden lectern with a microphone attached. Speakers hung from the ceiling on the left and right, aimed at the congregation. A battered looking piano sat in one corner, looking quite forlorn and abandoned.
Grace and her fellow inmates were marched to the very front of the church, and directed right for the men, left for the women. Glancing around, she noticed the entire church was segregated like this; even the non-inmates did not sit with their spouses or families. The sharp division of genders only bore out how crazy these people were, in her mind.
She sat down on the hard wooden pew and noticed a small table in front of the podium. It was piled high with Chick Tracts. She’d read more than a few in her lifetime, and she ruefully thought that this bunch of wackos would certainly be fans of Chick.
Hayes strode to the podium and uttered a quick prayer then he was off and running.
“Original Sin! That, brothers and sisters, is what led us to where we are today. Too many downplay the first sin in the world, but I do not! Eve brought us to where we are today — mired in sin, perversion, filth, adultery, and faggotry!
Grace kept her face blank as she watched and listened but thought “Ah, how perfectly splendid I get to hear this lunatic rave for who knows how long.” At least she could see Maddy next to her. That brought a joy to her that the Reverend Hayes nor any of his brainwashed flock could take away. She dared not speak to Maddy, though. The guards were quite watchful and the Reverend seemed to like staring right at the front row. I guess we are the Sinner’s Row, here.
Hayes continued “I’m often asked something by the lost, the media, and others…” Hayes changed his voice to a squeaky falsetto. “Oh, Reverend Hayes! Why are you so mean to the poor gays and lesbians and transgendered? Why oh why do you say bad things about them?”
Hayes slapped the podium hard, startling Grace and some of the others who hadn’t heard this particular sermon before. He slapped to punctuate each word he bellowed. “BECAUSE” SMACK! “THEY” SMACK! “ARE” SMACK! “EVIL!!!” SMACK!
“Men wanting to be women. Men dressing AS women! Men lying with men as they would a woman! The Bible warns about this over and over again! Men are to never be effeminate! It is an.. ABOMINATION!”
Several of his flock yelled “AMEN” and “Preach it, Brother Hayes!”
“Eve is the original sinner! Who talked Adam into sinning? Eve did! Who listened to the Serpent? Eve did! Who did God see as the culprit? Eve! If you study your Bible as diligently as I have it all comes clear, brothers and sisters! WHY does God say that the woman submit to the man? Why does He say that the wife must OBEY” SMACK! “her husband?”
Hayes lowered his voice for the next part.
“My friends, it is because women are the weaker sex. More easily led astray. More prone to embrace wickedness. More prone to listen to Satan. JUST LIKE EVE!”
Grace, with herculean effort, managed not to roll her eyes — as Hayes was looking right at her. So, women are all evil. I should have known. My eyes are opened now! But she kept her face as calm and devoid of expression as she could. She really did not want more demerits or beatings or even her old friend, the cattle prod.
“That is why the Bible instructs men to not spare the rod on their women, brothers and sisters. If a woman strays out of line, it is the husbands HOLY DUTY to correct her - physically! It’s right here in the Bible! All women need a male influence to protect, cherish, nurture, and CHASTISE when needed, my friends!”
“You’ve heard the old saying about women being the weaker sex. That doesn’t mean weaker physically, though it has been changed to that meaning by our modern society!” He managed to put a world of scorn into the word ‘modern’, Grace noted.
“No, my friends, the original meaning was MORALLY WEAKER! Isn’t that right, Ladies?”
Grace looked over at the women’s side of the church to see what the response would be. The Lesbian Contingent mostly sat still, though a few nodded. The women further back — who Grace had labeled in her head The True Believers - were all nodding and saying “Amen!”
I think I could easily be sick right now, Grace thought.
Hayes paused and produced a glass of water from behind his pulpit and took a drink before charging onward. Grace risked a glance around, and found that most of her fellow inmates had the same guarded and peaceful expression she was trying to project. The True Believers, though, wore rapturous expressions that reminded Grace of old pictures of teenagers staring at Elvis or The Beatles. Hayes was their rock star and they were jamming to his beat and none other.
“We are truly in the Last Days, my brethren! But that gives us no right to sit hidden in our church while the sodomites take over this once-great nation! No! We are WARRIORS for GOD! And we must fight to the bitter end! Can I get an amen?”
“AMEN!” the congregation roared.
“Amen!” he answered. He took another sip of water and stared at the inmates on the two front rows on each side for a moment, then began again.
“As you all know, we have our Sodomite inmates here with us today. A wicked bunch they are, too. Enslaved with Satan’s power and deep into his perversions, and filth. And yet, they can be saved! Yes! They can be saved just as we are! That is why they are here!”
Grace thought it very cute how he talked over their heads as if they were not even in the room. It showed just how little respect he had for them as human beings.
He finally addressed them directly. “My friends, you are here today to get the chance to be saved. Any of you can walk up here, bow down, and confess your perversions and turn your back on Satan. Turn to Jesus, and He will make you a new creature! Free of sin! Free of your perversions and sick lust for your own gender! All you need do is come up here and confess!”
He lifted his hands at the congregation and they all stood up. Grace rose with all of the rest. They began singing “Just As I Am.”
As they sang, Hayes continued softly with his message. “This may be your last chance. For some of you it probably IS your last chance on this earth to accept Christ and leave your life of sin and perversion behind. I know Satan’s hold on you is strong! I know you worship Satan! I know your kind! But, you can be free of him!”
Hayes walked over to the women’s side and while his attention was away she looked at Maddy and raised an eyebrow. I wonder if I can walk up there and do a little song and dance and maybe not be treated as badly? Anything would be an improvement…
Maddy knew full well what Grace was thinking, as she’d had the same thoughts herself in the past. She shook her head slightly at Grace, indicating it was a bad idea.
In the end, nobody walked up and confessed anything or came to Jesus. After the song ended, Hayes did a long meandering prayer, thick on anti-sodomite phrases and the hope that these Satanic perverts would one day see the light. Then, they were dismissed.
The inmates headed back to the bus, and this time Grace made sure that she and Maddy shared a seat — near the middle of the bus, away from the guard in front and the one at the very rear.
After the bus was started and they rolled out they began to talk, quietly.
“Welcome to Hell, Grace! When I sent word by Emily, I begged her to give you enough details to know to bring some help along… not just yourself!”
Maddy looked… rough. Sporting the same buzz-cut style but in blonde, the same white starched men’s shirt, the same khaki pants. Her breasts appeared to be bound like Grace’s. As Maddy had DD breasts, the binding did not do a lot to cover them. Grace also noted bruises on Maddy’s face.
Grace felt her eyes begin to tear and she hugged Maddy tightly, after making sure the guards were not watching them.
“Grace I am so sorry you are here honey. But, I am glad to see you at the same time. I’ve missed you terribly!”
With a smile for Maddy, Grace agreed and said “I have missed you too, Maddy. I had to come when I heard. You’re my best friend in the world and I couldn’t just abandon you to this nuthouse!”
Maddy beamed at Grace but said “Still, I wish you were not trapped here too! Look at your poor hair, gone, like mine!” She sniffled and started crying.
“It will grow back Maddy! Don’t let that bother you, honey. Listen. Why did you tell me not to go up front at the church? I thought I could walk up there and get ‘converted’ and maybe-“
Maddy interrupted her, “Have an easier time of it? No, Grace. I’ve seen that tried since I got here. It doesn’t work that way. If you did that, they’d call a doctor in here to remove your breast implants. And if you refused to sign the release asking them to be removed, you’d be treated even worse than we are now! They’d also hold you to a much stricter standard. You see, right now you are just a damned soul they try to reach. Once you join the flock, you’d have it worse.”
Grace shook her head sadly. She was relieved she had not decided to try her scheme. One more I owe Maddy, in a long string of things!
Grace tried to lighten the moment. “Well your sentence can’t be too long, and mine is just one year… we’ll get out of this, Maddy! We just have to hold on!”
Maddy groaned and shook her head. “No, Grace, you don’t have a clue what you’ve stumbled into. Oh God I wish you hadn’t come here. You have no idea what this place is or how you leave here, if you ever do.”
Grace felt chilled by the despair in her voice and the hopelessness as well. “What do you mean?”
“Grace, honey…” Maddy paused and was quiet for a moment. “Nobody like us gets out of here. We either convert and stay on as ‘trustees’, kind of… or… we just… disappear. God “gives up” on us, you see.”
“What do you mean, ‘disappear’?!” Grace mouthed in horror.
“Just what I said. There’s been two girls since I was brought here that just weren’t here anymore. Asking questions about them wasn’t a good idea, either, as I found out. I am not sure just what they do with their failures, but they certainly don’t just let them walk out the gate hon.”
“Are you saying they are murdering people, Maddy? Or, shipping them off somewhere else? Or… what?”
“Grace I just don’t know! As I said, two girls have vanished while I’ve been here. Nobody knew where they went, or if they did, they wouldn’t tell me. Asking around the staff was a mistake, too. I got demerits for it.”
Grace winced.
“Yeah, tell me about it. Try to avoid getting five demerits, Grace. It… hurts. A lot.”
“They’ve caned you, Maddy?”
“Oh, yes. Three times now and I am on my fourth demerit as we speak.”
“Err, I am on my sixth right now.”
“Oh, honey. Oh no! Grace I am so sorry. I’ll be there tomorrow evening with you. Just be strong and don’t try to evade the licks. If you do, he will just add more on.”
Grace groaned and nodded. “Maddy, however did you end up here?”
She smirked and said “My own damn fault. You know I love to drive around and explore new places. I got on the highway and was hitting all these small towns, ya know? I had a little baggie of weed in my purse, and got pulled over for speeding just outside of town, here. The rest is history.”
The bus reached camp so they went silent as it pulled up and the doors were opened.
They were sent back to the barracks for their allotted Bible Study time, after a decent lunch. Bible Study turned out to be just what it sounded like. Grace was to read her Bible, be silent, and stay on her cot.
Back to the Church at 6 PM, for 2 hours of Fire and Brimstone from Hayes, followed by a bus ride back and Bible reading until Mrs. Watson shut off the lights.
I am going to go fucking insane doing this week after week. They want to break me and/or brainwash me. And, I can see it working after enough of this. I have to get out of here somehow. And oh, tomorrow is my caning.
Monday morning meant her first class. What that class might be about, Grace had a pretty good guess. Where it was held was the mystery, but her new Best Friend Forever, Petey, was able to clear that right up.
They sat in the Mess Hall and Grace nibbled on her breakfast of mystery meat, toast, and some watery substance masquerading as orange juice.
“Yes, your first class is this morning, isn’t it? I’ll take you there of course. You will learn a lot!” Pete exclaimed.
“Oh, Petey, I just can’t wait!” Grace gushed.
Her class consisted of a droning forty-something woman talking about love, marriage, God’s Plan for Her Life, and how perverted and sick she and the other four people in the class were. Grace had already came to the conclusion that, propaganda repeated often enough would likely bore the intelligent into a stupor — and convince the dumb. She acted attentive but for the most part tuned it out. Her mind was mainly on the block of time on her calendar labeled ‘Discipline.’
One of the four people in the group was there not as a guest of the Sheriff. A young man named Jerry was placed in the camp by his parents, seeking a cure for his gayness. They spoke a bit during a recess and Grace was so sad for the boy. His own parents sent him here. How could someone who is supposed to love and cherish their children through good and bad do this? How could any parent send their child to this camp to go through this?
Grace did her shift in the Laundry building but barely thought much on it and ignored Ray and his taunts and generally sour disposition. Her one thought about Ray was an amused one. For people who are supposed to be filled with the love of Christ and know they are supposed to spend eternity in Heaven, they sure are a bunch of hateful sourpusses.
Grace sat on her cot, flipping idly through her Bible so that she looked good for the cameras. She’d had a glance through Watson’s door earlier when she came back and saw a huge bank of monitors on the sadistic bitch’s desk. She knew Watson would be watching everyone like a hawk and Grace didn’t want yet more demerits. Watson had told her that Discipline Time would be in an hour, and to prepare herself.
“And how am I supposed to prepare myself to be beaten and abused?” she asked.
Mrs. Watson walked up to Grace, nearly nose to nose, and smirked. “Rather than smart off to your betters, you should be praying right now you filthy fag. I can’t wait to see you get what is coming to you!” She stalked away, leaving Grace staring at her and imagining some very nasty things she would love to do to that woman.
Grace walked with three others, following Mrs. Watson. They were soon joined by another sour-faced woman, presumably the barracks leader of the women’s barracks. She had a single woman in tow.
They marched past the Admin building and then past the Garage and towards the woods. Grace noticed a wooden platform ahead and all the other inmates gathered around it. On the platform was a wooden chair nailed down to the platform itself, with leather cuffs dangling from chains on the back of the chair. Reverend Hayes stood on the platform with a cane in his hand.
Hayes called out the first name. “Carson! Front and center!”
Grace trembled but climbed up to the platform.
“Lower your pants and your underpants!”
She slid her pants down and then her boxers. One of his guards mounted the platform and laced her hands into the leather cuffs on the back of the chair. She found that her arms were held tightly and she could barely move other than shuffling her feet.
Grace saw Maddy in the crowd and looked at her with wide eyes. Maddy was crying, tears leaving streaks through the dirt on her cheeks.
“Carson, you have seven demerits listed. Therefore you get seven licks. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied, voice shaking.
Hayes raised his voice so that everyone could hear him clearly. “We don’t do this to be mean! We do this punishment to instruct and to correct! Carson earned seven demerits, so will receive seven lashes of the cane in the hopes that he will modify his behavior!”
She waited, trembling, and heard the whoosh of the cane whistling through the air before it struck. When it struck she screamed like a banshee. The man had a very strong arm and Grace had never felt such pain.
The crowd chanted out “One!”
She tried to pull away on the second one as she heard the whistle of it incoming, but it did no good. The scream ripped out of her throat, even louder. He’d hit the same place again.
“Two!”
Three and four came and she went from screaming to bawling in agony nonstop. She was facing the entire population and she could see Maddy crying and several of the inmates had tears, as well. Some of the guards were smirking and a few were actually laughing at her. Mrs. Watson was not far away from Grace and she had a look of absolute sadistic delight on her face.
Grace felt wetness on her legs and saw a few rivulets of blood running down both.
After five and six Grace could do nothing but howl and sob from the pain, and then finally number seven landed. Someone opened her cuffs and she fell flat to the platform.
Hayes offered a parting shot. “Just remember, the pain here ends after a while. Hell is an eternity of this!”
The guard dragged her away from Hayes and handed her off to Maddy and her next-cot-neighbor, Jay. They helped her walk back towards the main camp. As they left, she could hear Hayes spouting on about redemption and punishment with the next victim.
When they arrived at her cot, they lay Grace down gently on her stomach. Maddy produced a small bottle of lotion, which she rubbed on Grace’s welts. “I can get away with this since the bitch is at the caning, probably creaming her damn panties. This lotion is all I can do, though, honey. I am so, so, sorry you came here for me.” She started sobbing while still rubbing the lotion on Grace’s back.
Grace reached back and took one of Maddy’s hands. “I’d do anything for you, Maddy. You’re my best friend, so don’t say that again, honey.”
Tuesday morning reveille came and Grace made the mistake of turning from her side over on to her back. She groaned and hopped out of the cot. She gently slipped her fresh tee on, then the button-up starched shirt.
Sure enough, Pete appeared in short order. “Carson. How are you doing?” he asked, slightly anxious.
Grace gave him a little smile and said “As well as can be expected after a good beating, I guess, Petey.”
Pete didn’t bother to correct her about his name, just nodded. “Ready for some breakfast, then?”
She shrugged and said “Sure.”
Apparently the Gardener had either heard of her punishment or had been there, unseen by Grace. He asked how she was feeling and had her stand in the shack and break beans and nothing else, really. She assured him she’d like to work so he let her take a hoe and weed for the rest of her shift.
Pete showed up right on time and led her off to the Kitchen for her shift there. The poor man was looking at her so funny from time to time that she finally stopped walking and said “Okay, Petey. Out with it, what’s up with the staring and the troubled looks?”
Pete looked at the ground, the sky, the trees, and generally everywhere but her direction but finally answered. “Well, Carson, it’s you. You just… you’re supposed to be a man but sometimes I forget. You are so… feminine! And at times it really throws me off. You’re not like some gay guy acting like a sissy. You come across just like any woman would.”
Grace grinned at the poor man. “Petey dear, I am a woman where it counts, up here.” She tapped her head.
“And here.” She tapped her chest. Pete stared at her breasts and she laughed. “No, in my heart, not my breasts!” She dissolved in giggles, the first time she’d laughed since the caning. “Oh, thank you Petey. I needed a good laugh!”
Pete smiled and led her onwards, still confused but glad that he had helped his charge.
Pete dropped her off at the Kitchen. It was a small building connected by a swinging door to the Mess Hall. He said “Go on in, Carson. Emily will be in there and show you what needs to be done. She’s the Kitchen Supervisor.” He trotted off and Grace made her way in.
Emily Weston was a slim woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties. Grace thought her voice sounded familiar, and sure enough the Kitchen Supervisor was her mysterious caller that started this nightmare.
“You were supposed to, I don’t know, get a lawyer or some liberal ACLU types and get your friend out of here, not become a prisoner yourself! Do you have any idea what you are in for at this place, Miss Carson?”
Grace replied dryly “I have some idea, yes.”
Emily nodded. “I feel so bad for some of you. I don’t really hold with how they treat your kind here. I don’t think you can help being how you are. So, when Maddy asked me to contact you, I did it.”
Grace was still feeling irritated but tried to respond calmly. “Look, you could have told me a lot more and I’d have come here with some kind of backup or support. Instead I am stuck here, at least for a year.”
“I’m sorry Grace. But, I had very limited time and I really don’t want to become an inmate here.”
“Could you at least try to get me out of here!” Grace responded.
Emily looked down at the ground; obviously she realized that she was at least partially to blame for Grace’s incarceration here. “Grace… I’m not sure what you expect that I could do! I work here, yes, but I cannot just drive out of here with you or anyone else. The guards at the gate would see. They have cameras all over the parking area. If I tried to sneak you in to my car it would be spotted!”
Grace nodded in understanding, as she’d been spotting the cameras all over the place since she had arrived here. Another idea came to her, though. “Well, ok, sneaking me out is not going to work. I get that. How about contacting someone for me?”
The woman shook her head sadly. “Grace, the whole town is pretty much in his clutches. He brings in money — you know, donations from his radio program; his inmates do work for the town — for little of nothing. He’s a hero to those people. And the phones are monitored by the local phone co-op. They’d be all over me in a heartbeat!”
Grace didn’t have to ask who ‘he’ was.
Emily went on. “And as you no doubt found out firsthand, the Sheriff and his deputies are all in his pocket, too. All a phone call would earn me is a place in the women’s barracks as a prisoner.”
She met Grace’s sullen stare with a small smile. “Look, Grace… I might not be able to get you out of here, but maybe, next time I get a chance to call someone, I will do that for you. I’ll help you in any way that I can.”
“How did you call me last week without getting caught?” Grace asked.
“I was lucky. I was in town on errands for the kitchen, buying some utensils and a few supplies, you know. And the operator that monitors all the phone calls was at the store and her replacement that fills in was at the beauty shop. I’d seen her a few minutes earlier. So, I used the phone in the store office.”
“Well, the best place I would know to call would be the ACLU, I guess. You’d have to look up their number.”
Emily nodded. “We’ll see when the time comes. Meanwhile, have you ever peeled potatoes before, Grace?”
Grace sighed.
Other than it being monotonous work at times, Grace found she didn’t mind the kitchen duty all that much. Emily was easy to work for, and would often pitch in and help Grace with the tasks assigned to her.
Grace risked a question. “Emily, you said you didn’t approve of the treatment we get here. Why do you work here, that being the case?”
They were washing up pots and pans, and Emily was elbows-deep in water as much as Grace was. She thought for a bit then answered. “Well, Grace, first of all it’s a job, and I needed one. And, over time, I found that I could help the poor folks here a bit. Treat them like people, you know? I don’t hold with beatings and the other things they do here to break your spirit. Christ said to love one another as you would Him. That’s how we should all act.”
Grace could see why Maddy risked trusting this woman. She was everything a Christian was supposed to be.
Emily went on. “What about you, Grace? What is your faith? Do you have any?”
Grace decided to tell the truth. “Actually, Emily, I suppose you’d say I am Agnostic, or maybe a Deist. I don’t really know? I’d like to believe that Jesus is real and loves me but I don’t know that for certain. And if He is real, I am completely positive that He doesn’t want people who are different from the norm to be beaten, tortured, and brainwashed.”
Emily reached over to the sink Grace was washing in and took Grace’s hand and squeezed it gently. “Grace, you are a very special person. Much like Maddy is. I see why you two are friends. And I am so sorry that you are both stuck in this place. You don’t belong here.”
Grace squeezed her hand back, thankful to have found a new friend in this horrible purgatory.
“On time I see, and hopefully ready to work?” Ray growled at Grace. Grace nodded and replied “Yes, sir, I am.”
She got a nod and was waved at the Ironing area. Ray was, for the most part, a man of few words. She could feel his hatred. A different flavor than Mrs. Watson or the guards, but still, hatred. These people are… broken. I don’t know any other way to describe it. They are broken and small and filled with bitterness and hatred and… well everything negative you could imagine. They are the polar opposite of what Christians are supposed to be!
One thing became clear to many in the camp — and that was the fact the Grace’s mannerisms, deportment, and outlook was one hundred percent female. This caused no end of strange and disapproving looks amongst the more converted members of the camp, in addition to poor old Pete’s constant confusion. The inmates seemed to accept her as she was for the most part, however.
As for Pete, he was beginning to grow on Grace, somewhat. He never expressed hatred or gave her the evil looks that many here did. Oh, he parroted the bigoted idiocy that he was force-fed, but overall the man seemed to be a lot like Emily — a good human being in a horrible place.
Chapter 4: I Once Was Lost
“Religion: It’s given people hope in a world torn apart by… religion.”
”• Jon Stewart
Wednesday came, and that was marked Maintenance all day. Grace inquired of the sour-faced Mrs. Watson on where to go after breakfast and was curtly informed of her destination — the Maintenance Garage. This turned out to be a rather large building with a garage, a work room, and quarter for the Head of Maintenance.
She let Pete lead her to the Maintenance Head’s Office and to meet her new supervisor there, who was none other than her old friend Jimbo.
“Well, look who’s here! It’s Carson! How are you enjoying our lovely camp, my fine faggot friend?” he laughed.
“I’m doing well, thank you, sir,” she replied, quietly. Her instincts told her how to deal with Jimbo. He wanted respect and subservience. In fact, he seemed to crave it. But, she felt she was walking through a minefield with him, regardless.
He waved off Pete and led her into the garage area. “While you’re here you’re mine to do with as I please. And don’t concern yourself with demerits, fag. You cross me and I’ll knock the crap right out of you. Got that?”
Grace answered “Yes, sir.”
Jimbo smiled and playfully punched Grace in the shoulder. “You know, I would kinda like you if you weren’t a fag? Do you believe that, Carson?”
“Yes, sir, if you say so.”
“I do say so! You really do have your woman act down pretty good. I bet you have fooled a lot of men haven’t ya?” he asked, rhetorically.
“Well, I have never set out to fool anyone. I just have expressed who I am and let people take me however they decide to,” she answered.
Jimbo stood and stared at her a long time. Then, nodded and led her to the back of the garage. He pointed at a push-broom and said “First thing, I want you to clean this place up. Get it looking good for me. What with your woman thing you got going I’m sure you’ll do a great job!” He started laughing and walked off.
Not only did Grace sweep the place to within an inch of its life, she organized all of the tools piled haphazardly around into a neat array on the walls and workbenches. She noted one tool that made her smile: a pair of bolt-cutters. She carefully hung them on the wall with the rest of the tools continued on.
When Jimbo returned he let out a sharp whistle of approval. “Well, now! Carson I am impressed. You got this place looking shipshape! I didn’t think you had it in you!”
Grace smiled and replied “Thank you, sir. I always believe in doing the best that I can at whatever I do.”
Jimbo nodded. “Go on to lunch, see you back here in half an hour. Don’t be late.”
Grace scampered off to lunch. She didn’t see Jimbo standing there watching her as she left, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. She also didn’t hear him mutter “Best of a bad lot, I guess.”
After supper she reported back to Jimbo’s office. She found him standing in the doorway that led in to the garage, watching her. She stood there waiting to see what he wanted her to do next.
Grace found out rather quickly what was next, as he grabbed her arm and led her over to one of the back corners of the garage. There were two sawhorses there, with a half-dozen two-by-fours laying across them.
He got behind her, pushed her up against them and bent her over, saying “Don’t move or say one word, fag!”
She thought she knew what was coming, and sadly enough she was right. He pulled her pants and boxers down, then walked over and dead-bolted the door. Jimbo then walked into the bathroom and came back with a small jar of Vaseline.
Grace debated whether to say anything or beg him to stop, but decided in the end all she would get by that would be a beating or demerits or both.
He was rough. Brutal, crude, and shortly after he began, it was over. Grace stayed in position, bent over the wood and was softly crying. She wasn’t just crying from the act of rape itself. Her butt was still very sore from her caning and this had made it hurt again.
“Hush up the tears now, fag. You gotta understand, sometimes a man needs relief, you see. It’s a sin to fornicate with a woman you ain’t married to. Reverend Hayes is real strict on that sorta thing. So, I need something to take care of that, and you look so much like a woman, even now, that you’ll do nicely.”
He flung a rag at Grace, presumably to dry her tears.
“Look, to me you’re like one of them blow-up dolls some men get with, you know? You’re not really a person anymore, you’re an ‘it’. I ain’t fornicatin’ with a woman, nor a man, so you see - it don’t count in the eyes of God. Now, that don’t mean you can go around spreadin’ lies or anything about this. You keep your fag mouth shut and your short life on this earth won’t be near as bad as it could be. But if you tell even one soul about this…”
Jimbo leaned in close till his nose almost touched Grace’s and dropped his voice to a grim whisper. “One word about this to anyone and I will find you and I will break your neck and send you straight to Hell, Carson. You got that?”
Grace was, by turns, incensed, astounded, and horrified by Jimbo’s little speech wherein she was reduced to nothing but a sentient sex toy. She felt there was no choice but to be agreeable and bide her time. She responded cautiously “I understand, sir, and I will not say a word to anyone.”
Jimbo smiled, glad that this fag understood who was in charge around here.
“See, this is one area that me and the good Reverend don’t quite see eye to eye. He thinks that if he works with you fags and prays he can get you right with God. Me, I believe what the good Reverend Phelps down in Kansas has to say. God gave you up when you decided to turn gay and mutilate your God-given body into a freakshow half-woman body. God is the only one who could cure you of this sin and he don’t want nothin’ to do with you now. You are beyond hope and Hell-bound is how Reverend Phelps sees it, and how I see it too.”
Jimbo paced on the stained concrete floor as he explained How Things Are to Grace.
“Now, Reverend Hayes has had some purely blessed success with some of the young confused kids we get in here. Their parents find out they are being turned gay by the schools and the media and Hollywood and all that and they send them here. We straighten them out and get them back on the right track before it’s too late and they become full-time fags you see?”
Grace nodded. Jimbo stopped pacing and whirled to point at her.
“But look at you! You’ve burned all your bridges with God and there is just nothing for you in the future but Hell. God don’t want you back ya see? All you can do is live your perverted life lusting after men’s dicks and then die and burn for eternity. There’s just… No… Hope... For… You!” He smacked his hands together on each word.
Grace sighed and looked down at the floor, apparently accepting his grim forecast for her afterlife.
Jimbo resumed pacing and pontificating on her sorry state.
“So Reverend Hayes, God bless his soul, will keep trying to save you. But you and I know you gave your soul to Satan a long time ago and you will never get right with God. Trannies like you embrace the perversion and live for it — you’re doomed and you know it. And even worse, you actively recruit and try to corrupt others into your perverted lifestyle. Don’t try to deny it!”
She was not about to try to deny anything. Grace didn’t breathe a word and backed up slightly as Jimbo was really worked up and all she could do is tremble and try to look respectful and meek.
“You fags know you are bound for Hell, and the only way you all react to that is to try to drag others with you! Misery loves company you see!
“Your best bet is to show up here when I need a little stress relief and do a good job of it. Keep your mouth shut about it, obey, and your life here won’t be too awful, I guess. Do you understand me, Carson? Are we clear on this?”
Jimbo walked up to her and looked right into her eyes. She almost flinched but cleared her throat and replied “We are clear on this, sir. Crystal clear, sir.”
Jimbo smiled. “Good! Maybe you are smarter than I thought. If you can behave yourself, take care of things I need taken care of, and keep your mouth shut I think I can see my way to making your life here a little easier than some, maybe. You’re back here tomorrow evening. Got some mowing for you to do. After that, well, meet me in here and take care of… some things for me here. Clear on that, too? ”
“Perfectly, sir. I’ll be here.” Grace replied quickly.
“Good. Now get outta here.”
Grace had an uneventful night’s sleep, followed by another dull breakfast. She finished eating and headed to her class, deciding that being late would just mean being closer to one more beating. It wasn’t worth it.
Grace arrived to her class on time and found her teacher to be Reverend Hayes. She fought hard to keep her emotions from showing upon seeing her teacher.
She took a seat among five other students and waited for the Happy Time Bullshit Hour to begin.
On the whiteboard up front was written one word: LOVE
“Good morning, class!”
Grace sighed and joined in “Good Morning, Reverend Hayes!”
“Today we’re going to talk about love. Love between God and Man, and Man and Woman, and the perversions of love that Satan has constructed!”
Oh, no, please. Not more of this. Please. God, if you are there, I’ll go volunteer in Africa for You if You would just shut him up… please?
“Now, we know from Genesis that Adam was lonely and needed some help around the home. So, God decided to create a helper for Adam: Eve. That was her purpose, you see! She was to help him, and keep him from being lonely. Do you understand?”
Everyone nodded and Grace nodded as well but thought “Oh I understand all right. You’re a misogynist asshole who hates women and maybe you even have repressed homosexual tendencies."
Hayes was winding himself up. “But SATAN didn’t like that! He approached the weak-willed Eve and easily led her to SIN! And she used her feminine whiles to lead poor Adam into SIN as WELL!!!”
“You SEE, my friends! From the feminine nature springs temptation and wickedness! Without a FIRM hand, Satan gets his foot in the door! You so-called “transgendered” fags try to be women! It’s the evil of SATAN in your SOUL! A man is set above a woman for a PURPOSE! It’s GOD’s WILL!!!”
Grace made another mistake but she just couldn’t help it.
Hayes paused in his tirade. “Carson! What did you say? Repeat that?”
In for a penny… “I said that you should probably convert to Islam.”
“WHAT? WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?”
“Well, the more fundamentalist Muslims hate women and treat them as property rather than people. And they even cover their bodies since they are evil, and all that. You’d fit right in.”
Grace sat stoically, waiting to be given 10 demerits or more. Or maybe locked in ‘Solitary Confinement’ — something she’d heard of offhandedly but knew nothing about yet.
But Hayes surprised her. He laughed at her!
“Carson you are so pitiful. You listen to Satan’s lies and parrot them like a trained bird. You expected a demerit didn’t you? Well, you got one! But you’re not going to bait me in my class. Smart off again like that and you WILL get ten demerits. Understood?”
Grace nodded. The class went on and she endured. What else could she do?
The mower was an old-fashioned manual rotary-type push mower, which was not a surprise to Grace in the least. She mowed until dinner, and met Pete outside the Mess Hall.
Pete gave her a sunny smile. “How did your work for Jimbo go last night, Carson?”
Grace responded, “Oh, it was quite a rough evening. I busted my butt and really impressed Jimbo with my talents, I do believe.”
“Carson that’s great! I am so glad to see you fitting in around here at last!”
“Well, Jimbo fits in whether he’s wanted there or not!”
Poor Pete looked confused so Grace let her innuendo drop. She said “Yeah, Jimbo is certainly a character, isn’t he?”
Pete nodded. “He had a rough time when he came here. He lost his wife and son in a fire and he’s never been the same since. I hope he can get over it.”
Grace nodded; surprised she could feel sympathy for even Jimbo.
She pulled on the side door of the garage and found it unlocked, as she expected that it would be. She slipped in quickly, closed the door and locked it. She then walked swiftly across the concrete floor to the door that led to Jimbo’s quarters and rapped softly on it. The door opened immediately and Jimbo stepped out. He looked at her for a moment then pointed over to the sawhorse without a word. Grace bit back a sigh and did as instructed.
Jimbo pulled something out of his pocket and held it out to Grace. “Here, take this, for next time. Use it when you get in here, before you knock on my door.” Grace took the object and was quite shocked to see what it was. She slipped it into her pocket and nodded.
Jimbo seemed pleased that she didn’t comment on the request so Grace decided to press her luck.
“Jimbo?”
He had started to turn to go back into his quarters but he stopped and said “What?”
“I was thinking about what you told me last time. And, I was wondering if I could ask you a really big favor?”
Jimbo replied “And what would that be?”
Grace wasn’t about to ask him for his help for her escape plans, because she knew that would just get her beaten. She had her sights set much lower than that, hoping the degradation of being used as a sex toy would at least gain her something besides humiliation.
“You told me how I don’t have any hope… how I am bound for Hell. Maybe you are right about that, I don’t know.”
Jimbo nodded, pleased that she had paid attention. “Go on.”
“But, you know this place is driving me crazy. I really miss having a cigarette from time to time. Could you see your way to get me some?”
He started laughing at her as if she’d told him something hilarious. “Yeah you came in here with those cancer sticks didn’t you? And still wanting them after being without for all this time? See, I was right about the evil inside you wasn’t I, Carson?”
Grace nodded quickly in agreement. “I am, sir. And, I know it. I just want a little pleasure before… you know… Hell.”
That made Jimbo laugh even harder. “Oh you’re a real hoot, Carson. Well, to answer your question: no, I won’t buy you any cigarettes nor anything else like that! The Reverend would have my hide if he found out.”
Grace looked at the floor, dejected that he wouldn’t even do that much.
Jimbo walked over and looked down at her. “However, If you would happen to come across any, on your own… I’d let you smoke in the garage here, after… Nobody comes in here but me.”
He paused for a minute in thought. “Matter of fact, if we confiscate any from an intake I might see my way to bringing them to you. Maybe. You keep old Jimbo happy and I just might come up with some. Either way, you can smoke ‘em in here, I guess, as long as you do it in here and hide them here too. Okay?”
Grace smiled up at him and nodded. “I understand. And, thank you, Jimbo.”
“Don’t thank me too quick, Carson. Just remember: if you get caught smoking or doing anything else you shouldn’t it’s all on you. One word about me and you don’t even want to think about what I will do to you. Got it?”
“Yes, sir, I do.”
He nodded and went to his door and was gone.
Grace sat on her cot and thought a lot about the object Jimbo had given her. She held it in her hands, took the lid off for the fifth time and stared at the cherry red Maybelline lipstick before slipping the lid back on. Maybe he wants me to look more feminine so that in his mind he is less ‘gay’ when he is fucking my ass? Or maybe he just has a thing for trannies? Either way, I guess I will wear it if it keeps him more civil and gives me a tiny bit of freedom. And I am kind of proud of my acting for him… maybe I have a future as an actress!
She slept well that night, her aching rear end starting to ease off.
The days passed, and another week was gone. Everything was becoming a blur to Grace. Her world revolved around the stupid chores calendar on the blackboard. She was beginning to have bizarre dreams, and in them, the camp became Stalag 13 from the old sixties show “Hogan’s Heroes.” Pete would make a good Sgt. Schultz, anyways, I suppose.
Grace was more than a little concerned about her bizarre dreams and her lost sense of time.
Emily greeted Grace with a hug and Grace thought she smelled cigarette smoke on the woman. But, she decided that wasn’t the case and she was imagining it.
But, later as they were breaking beans and talking Emily leaned in close to talk to her. Grace’s nose caught another whiff of that tantalizing scent and then she realized: Emily had recently had a cigarette!
“Emily, you smoke, don’t you?” Grace asked.
The woman showed a guarded expression and said “Yes, though they fuss at me often for it. I keep it out of sight of everyone here as much as I can. I often wish I could quit but I’d miss it too much. Why do you ask?”
“Since you offered to help me any way you can, could you possibly get me a pack of cigarettes?”
Emily gasped “Grace I can’t do that! If they caught you with them they’d want to know where you got them and they’d beat it out of you. And then I’d be in a world of hurt! I keep my own smoking as secret as I can. It’s not looked on here very well.”
“I won’t get caught, Emily. I have an… understanding, with someone here. I have a place to hide them and to smoke them safely. Please, Emily, I need them. I am going fucking insane in this nuthouse!”
Grace watched Emily closely as the woman was obviously thinking things over. Her face had been troubled but her expression lightened a bit as she finally said “Okay, Grace. I will slip a pack in my purse and bring it to you. Some matches, too? Or a lighter? And what brand do you want me to bring you?”
“A lighter would be good. And Virginia Slims, regulars, please.”
Emily snorted and replied “I should have known!”
Grace grinned in response.
“If you get caught with them, please, for the love of God, don’t tell them I gave them to you. Okay?”
Grace’s face went solemn. “I promise that I will not under any circumstance tell them, Emily. If I were to get caught, I will say I stole them from some woman’s purse in the Admin building.”
“I’ll have them for you tomorrow, honey.”
Grace grinned. One small victory, at least. Right now she would take whatever small victories she could get.
Grace tore the cellophane off the pack of Virginia Slims and then the foil and with shaking hands pulled one out. She placed it in her lips and lit the cigarette and took a long drag. After inhaling she felt her head spinning and the much anticipated sense of relief that it brought. Grace felt nothing but pure ecstasy as she drew on the rapidly shrinking cigarette again and again.
Jimbo stood watching her with contempt as she took one drag after another.
“See that’s just one more thing that shows how weak you are Carson. You’ve been off those cancer sticks for well over a month and the first chance you get here you are sucking on them again. A real man isn’t weak like you! A real man resists letting a little stick of tobacco take over his life. But you’re not a man any more are you?”
Grace didn’t know what response would be wise so she just nodded and took another deep drag.
Jimbo smirked at her and shook his head. “You know you are bound for Hell when you die, and here you are making sure you shorten your life so you can get to Hell faster.”
“I needed these, Jimbo. I’m going crazy in this place and any relief I can find I will take.”
Jimbo snorted. “You should be looking for relief in the Bible. Reverend Hayes says that is the only way to find happiness and peace, you know.”
Grace took a drag and asked Jimbo “What about you, Jimbo? Has this place and Hayes and his people brought you that?”
Jimbo looked troubled. “My problems are my own entire fault. The reverend just tries to help me. Not his fault that he can’t fix some things.”
“Seems to me, Jimbo, that maybe he doesn’t have all the answers after all?” she asked, softly.
Jimbo grunted. “Maybe, maybe not.”
“Maybe he sells hate, bigotry, and damnation because that is all he has to sell?” she pushed.
Jimbo looked slightly uncomfortable but the comment hit right on target, it was obvious.
He turned to go but couldn’t resist a bit more commentary. “Make sure and turn off the lights and don’t let anyone see you leave. I’ll leave you here to work on getting to Hell faster!” He laughed, shook his head, and went through the door and it closed behind him.
Grace took a final drag and walked over to the small garage bathroom and entered, dropped the spent butt in the toilet, then flushed and replied in a whisper “I am in Hell, Jimbo. But, I hope to find a way out of it.”
After breakfast, Grace was surprised to find Pete leading her to the camp bus. She raised an eyebrow and he said “Public Service, Carson. The camp sends out workers from time to time. They clean, paint, wash houses and cars. A little of everything. I’ll see you when you get back!”
Grace nodded and followed the waiting guard onto the bus, where she found seven others. Some smiled and nodded, others just stared at her with hateful or blank expressions.
She looked towards the front of the bus, seeing that the guards were not paying attention at all — they were all laughing and talking amongst themselves. She turned back to the other inmates and smirked.
“I can tell which of you are ‘converted’ and which are not, just by how you treat me. You converted are full of hate and fear, and the unconverted are nice to me. Isn’t that ironic?”
That got her more glares from some and a few snickers and chuckles from the rest.
The bus dropped her and one other off along with one guard. She was assigned to Mrs. Owen’s house. She was led around to the side where cans of paint and a roller, tray, and brushes awaited.
“All right fag. Start painting this house. You fags are supposed to be artistic! Well, let’s see you in action!”
The guard laughed uproariously at his pathetic humor. Grace did the smart thing and got to work. Putting him down with a cutting remark would only earn her a demerit.
Grace was not only exhausted but her shirt was soaked with sweat and splattered with paint, her pants were in the same condition. She was debating on whether or not to request a drink of water when Mrs. Owen came out with a tall glass and approached the guard.
“Lance, it sure is hot out here. I thought you could use a glass of lemonade!”
“Awww, thanks Mrs. Owen, I really appreciate it!”
Grace worked up the courage and looked at the old woman and said “Could I have a glass of water, Mrs. Owen?”
The woman ignored her and looked at the deputy and said “Imagine, a fag asking me for a favor. It will ask for a lot of water in Hell, won’t it?”
Lance brayed laughter and brandished the cattle prod at Grace in an obvious “get back to work” gesture.
Mrs. Owen went back in her house and Grace glanced back at the guard and said “Really nice people you have here in your town.”
“Shut up, fag. She’s a nice lady, but since you don’t know I’ll lay it out for you. Her husband ran off with some perverted tranny like you three years ago. Your kind ruined her marriage and her life. So just shut your yap and get your painting done.”
Riding back from church on Sunday, Maddy and Grace managed to get a little time together. Maddy wasted no time bring her up to speed on things. “One more disappeared, Grace. I don’t think you knew her, Patty Tomlinson?”
Grace shook her head.
“She’s a lesbian, put in here the same way you and I were, as an inmate. She was usually in the laundry detail with me. We’d iron and starch and work together a lot. She’s just… gone.” Maddy trailed off, obviously very troubled.
Grace pondered things for a short while. “It might be good for us to try to find out what is going on. Emily doesn’t know, and I doubt Pete would. I’ll talk to Jimbo about it.”
Maddy gasped. “Jimbo! That redneck jerk? He wouldn’t tell you the time of day!”
Grace smiled. “I think he’s starting to like me, a little. Even though sometimes I’d like to toss him off a cliff after what he did to me.” Maddy was shocked and appalled when Grace gave her a short rundown of her rape by Jimbo and then stunned to learn that he was actually being nicer to her as time went by.
The bus reached camp, and after a quick hand squeeze they each returned to their cots for their Happy Fun-time Bible Study Hours (as Grace referred to it).
Grace fell into a routine where she mostly dreaded Fridays and Sundays. Fridays because of the perpetually-pissed Ray; and Sundays because she had to sit through two sessions of the insanity spewed by Hayes. Time passed, and Grace wondered if they would really let her go when her time had been served.
As part of her Maintenance duties today, Grace was informed that she would be emptying wastebaskets, sweeping, mopping, and dusting various offices in the Admin building. She had plenty of time to complete this before her rendezvous with Jimbo in the garage.
She indulged her curiosity while cleaning, snooping through papers, drawers, and closets. Nothing much was found of interest until she prowled in a closet in a room that was obviously used to record video and audio. Apparently it was the room that Hayes used to do his weekly radio sermons. In the closet she found two video cameras — one was a huge beast, obviously from the last decade. One was still nestled in the box it came in, having been taken out perhaps once then put back.
Grace toyed with the idea of taking the little camera and filming some kind of expose of the camp. But, where would she hide the camera? And use it? How would she get the recording out to the world?
She decided to risk taking the camera and would hide it away somewhere in the garage.
Grace did find one other treasure while cleaning the offices, and she slipped it into her pocket before leaving. It was a large wide-tipped black Sharpie.
“Jimbo, I have a question for you.”
He nodded. “Go ahead.”
“Where do those who vanish end up? I know that people just vanish here, and that nobody will talk about it. Please, tell me?”
They had just finished what Grace, in the privacy of her own head, only, labeled “Jimbo’s Sexy Time”. She still had her lipstick on and was smoking. Jimbo had been watching her closely, she had noticed. She knew many men liked to watch a woman smoke, and it seemed that Jimbo might be one of them. One more weapon in my arsenal, I suppose?
Grace knew the answer was not a good one as Jimbo did not even look at her after she asked. Instead, he looked down at the floor and was silent, obviously debating what to tell her.
He sighed and said in a very low voice “Reverend Hayes gives all our, let’s say, non-consensual prisoners? Yeah, that’s a pretty good way to put it. He gives them a certain amount of time and chances to make things right with God, and come to Jesus, and repent. If they don’t do it in good time… well, that’s that. I can’t say no more.”
Grace puffed and though about that. It didn’t sound good.
“Jimbo, how does the Reverend decide that someone’s time is up?”
Jimbo shook his head. “I dunno, Grace, err, Carson. He’s never told me”
“VERY interesting slip there on his part!” Grace thought. She walked over to the garage bathroom to ditch the butt and considered that since Jimbo had started using her for ‘relief’ that he’d been treating her more like a woman and less like a ‘fag’ male. Of course, that’s a small step up for his type. Women, to men like him, are barely above ‘dog’ and ‘horse’ on the hierarchy. Still, it’s some improvement I guess.
“I wonder if I will ever be allowed to leave here?” she asked.
“Well, see, I don’t really know. You’re supposed to serve your 11-29 and get out but a lot of that is up to the County Liaison,” he answered.
“Oh. Well, who is that?”
Jimbo laughed. “I hate to say it, but it is Mrs. Watson!”
Grace groaned. “I’ll be here for 400 years!”
Jimbo nodded, still laughing but also giving her a sympathetic look. Grace started laughing, too. It all really was just too much.
Jimbo gave her a friendly wave and disappeared back into his quarters. She went ahead and lit another cigarette and sat on one of the stools. It was time to seriously think about how to get out of here. Beyond that, get out of here as a non-felon, without an outstanding arrest warrant as an escapee.
The next morning, as the recording of reveille played, and the inmates dressed, Grace had a small smile on her face. Pete didn’t appear, instead Grace was treated to an angry Mrs. Watson. “All of you, outside, and line up!”
The prisoners walked outside and lined up in two lines, facing an angry Mrs. Watson and a red-faced Reverend Hayes, along with two of the guards. None of them appeared to be happy.
“I want to know, right now, WHO DID THIS?” Hayes thundered.
The prisoners, including Grace, looked around innocently.
Hayes’ red face turned redder. “THIS!” He pointed at the various buildings. Each had a new label. The men’s barracks was labeled “AUSHCWITZ” in block capitals. The Mess Hall was labeled “HELL’s KITCHEN”.’ The women’s barracks had a new label as well “DACHAU.” The Admin building even had a new label: “ABANDON HOPE, YE WHO ENTER HERE.”
Written under the AUSCHWITZ caption was the phrase “ARBEIT MACHT FREI.” Grace glanced at Jay, who certainly got the reference. Quite a few of them were trying to hide smirks.
As nobody had stepped forward to claim responsibility, Hayes was apoplectic. “If someone doesn’t come forward or if I don’t hear who did this you will ALL suffer punishment!”
Grace decided to walk forward, but before she did Jay took two steps ahead of her. “I did it, Reverend Hayes.”
“Did you, now? Somehow I don’t believe you.”
“Nevertheless, it was me.”
Hayes didn’t look happy, as if he knew Jay was covering for someone. “Five demerits! We’ll see you at Discipline next week!” He stormed off, and Mrs. Watson marked his demerits in her book with a scowl, then stomped back to her office as the inmates all headed to breakfast.
Grace slid up next to Jay as they walked. “Jay… why? You knew that I did it. I was going to step forward and take my punishment before I let all of you face it for me.”
Jay grinned at her. “Grace, we all needed a laugh at their expense. It’s worth it to me. You can owe me one!”
After breakfast, Pete said he had a surprise for Grace.
“Oh, really? Let me guess, ok?”
“Sure, try to guess!”
“A horse-whipping!”
“Wha- NO!”
“Umm, ok. Water-boarding?”
“NO! C’mon Carson, be serious!”
“Oh, I am serious as a heart-attack, Petey. Ooh, I know. They’ll hook up a chain to each hand and foot, and each one hooked to a different car, and pull me apart!”
Pete gaped at her. “Where do you get such crazy ideas, Carson? No! Your first parole hearing is today! You’ve been here a month now!”
The ‘parole hearing’ was a farce, as she expected. But it was also a break in the monotony, so that was all right. Her ‘parole board’ was a grim sight: Reverend Hayes, Mrs. Watson, and good old Pete.
Grace bit on her tongue to stop from laughing at the absurdity.
Hayes started right off. “Well, Carson, one month here now for you! How about that!” He made it sound like the time just flies when such fun is to be had!
Grace fired right back. “Oh, I know! It seems like I just got here yesterday! I’ve been so busy and met so many new and interesting friends that I just plumb forgot how long I’d been here!”
That got her a smile from Pete, a glare from Mrs. Watson, and a confused look from Hayes.
Hayes shook his head and went on. “Ahem. The question before us is: have you rehabilitated yourself. You came to us as a cocaine-using fag, masquerading as a woman. Do you still consider yourself a woman, Carson?”
Grace discarded the first half-dozen responses that came to mind. Finally, she decided to just barrel ahead.
“I could go into a long discussion of gender dysphoria, XXY chromosomes, chemical estrogen enhancement caused by our polluted environment, and all that. But, it would get me nowhere. It would piss off at least two of you and I still wouldn’t get out of here. So, yeah, I am a woman, always have been. Always will be. I can’t change that. Oh, and we both know that the Sheriff planted that cocaine in my car so that I would be put here. You’re not fooling anyone.”
Mrs. Watson smirked. “You can throw all that satanic gobbledygook at us you want, you fag. We know what the truth is. You don’t have real breasts. You don’t have a vagina. You don’t have ovaries. You’re NOT a woman!”
Grace responded softly “Ah, I see. So if a woman has a hysterectomy and/or a mastectomy she is no longer a woman?”
Mrs. Watson glared and Hayes thundered “Don’t start trying to twist things around like your worldly father, Satan! If you want to continue to pretend you are a woman, then so be it. Parole will be denied!”
Mrs. Watson chimed in, “It should be obvious to you that you are a sickening fag after all we’ve done to help you see the light. We have opened the door but YOU have to walk through it!”
Back to Hayes, who nodded in agreement. “We unlock the door from the dark cage of sin but you have to come out into the light, my friend.”
And back to Mrs. Watson, who also nodded and then said, “We only want to save your soul!”
Grace felt almost as if she was watching a tennis match. This spiel seemed so pat and practiced she figured they’d used it many times before.
Hayes spoke up. “There is a way you can help yourself, Carson.”
Grace nodded and listened.
Hayes continued, “We do radio services that I tape on Saturday. We also sometimes do TV spots for the local cable companies. If you’d be willing to record a spot for radio and TV repenting and explaining how you have been duped by Satan into pretending to be a woman, seducing men by fooling them and turning them into sodomites, well then! That changes things, you see, and we could see fit to stamp an “OK” on your parole request. What do you say?”
Grace kept her temper, barely. “Let me see if I have this correct. You want me to get on television and tell the world that my entire life since high school has been one big lie, and that I was some kind of sick Satan-worshiping transvestite whore? And you have shown me the error of my ways?”
Both Mrs. Watson and Hayes saw that she had gotten it! They both smiled and Hayes said “Exactly, Carson! Oh, we’d type your confession and repentance up for you. All you’d need to do is read it and smile for the camera!”
Mrs. Watson nodded.
Grace didn’t hesitate, though she did reign in her temper. “No, I won’t do that. It would not only be a lie, but might actually hurt someone who has gender dysphoria like I do. I can’t do that.”
The smiles vanished as soon as she had started talking. Mrs. Watson’s expression went back to her usual ‘I just ate a lemon’ and Hayes glowered at her.
Hayes stood up. “Very well, if that is how you want it, Carson. Your parole is denied. Your next hearing will be in six months — IF you can avoid further demerits. Somehow, I don’t think you will.”
Mrs. Watson laughed. “I know he won’t!”
Mrs. Watson smirked and pointed at the door. Pete looked sad as he left with Grace.
Later that week she filled Emily in on her so-called ‘parole hearing’ and the offer that had been made.
“Emily, as badly as I want to get out of here, I can’t betray who I am and the road I’ve traveled. Not to mention, the thought of me on television telling some poor teenager who is gender dysphoric that they are just a ‘fag’ who has been tricked by Satan and must conform to gender norms? I could never live with myself if I did that!”
Emily hugged her and said, “I agree with you, Grace. That would be trading your self-respect for your freedom. Not a good bargain in my book.”
Chapter 5: But Now Am Found
And I'm telling you son,
Well, it ain't no fun
Staring straight down a forty-four.
- Gimme Three Steps, Lynyrd Skynyrd
After their ‘session’, Jimbo waited while Grace retrieved her cigarettes and shocked the hell out of her by offering her a light.
He’d been getting friendlier by the day and while she suspected that he was starting to see her as a woman now, what he said nearly made her faint.
“Listen, Grace. We need to talk.”
Grace nodded, quite beyond words already. What he said next took things further into unreality.
“I… I want to apologize to you. I’m sorry. Sorry for calling you names, sorry for hitting you, and sorry for... well, for raping you.”
What the hell do I say to that? ‘Oh, forget the rape, dear. No biggie!’
Grace stood holding her cigarette and looking down at Jimbo, who had sunk to the floor. “Well, Jimbo, umm, I appreciate you saying that.”
Jimbo started crying!
“Reverend Hayes and Phelps and all the rest… they’ve taught me that you are a freak. Everyone’s told me you’re sick and perverted and filthy. But, you’re not. You’re just a… woman. A woman that’s kinda weird, what with the cock and balls and ..”
Grace held up her hand. “You were doing fine, let’s go with that and not get into my weirdness, ok? I have a birth defect.”
Jimbo looked mortified and nodded.
She thought and smoked for a few while Jimbo sat there. Finally she said “Jimbo, I don’t know if I can forgive you right now. But, I will tell you this. I WILL bring this place down, one way or another. I hope you don’t get caught up in whatever happens.”
Jimbo nodded sadly. “I don’t demand it of you, Grace. I just wanted to apologize, and hope you can forgive me one day. My life has been a train wreck since…”
He fell silent.
“Since the fire?” Grace said softly.
“You heard about it, huh? Yeah, lost my wife and my little boy at the same time. Started drinking after that, drifting around doing odd jobs. Ended up here. I thought the Reverend was the answer but lately I been doubting that he is.”
Grace prompted him with “Why?”
“Well, it’s a lot of little things. The beatings. The people who just up and vanish. Oh, I asked ‘bout it and all I get from the Reverend on that was to hush up and not worry about it. He said if I ‘toe the line’ and ‘stay right with God’ I will be more involved in this place and will participate as a ‘Cleansing Scourge of God’ — whatever that means.”
Grace frowned, as this sounded like some kind of bizarre conspiracy that Jimbo was hovering on the edge of.
Jimbo went on. “See, I am supposed to hate you, Grace. Hate anyone who is like you or is a fag, or lezbo or whatever. And I’ve been taught it and soaked it up like a sponge. But it takes a lot out of me to hate all the time. And I keep thinking of Joanie, she never hated anybody. She would be plumb disgusted to see me now!”
Grace nodded, figuring Joanie was his deceased wife. She left and went back to her barracks and off to sleep.
Grace was coming back from the garden when she heard sobbing. She looked around but couldn’t find the source at first. Finally, she figured out where it was coming from: The Box.
She’d heard of it but never really looked closely or came near it. She had been told that the Box was where inmates were sometimes put in solitary confinement. She looked at it closely, disgust on her face. It was an aluminum cage, a four foot square cube with a padlocked door on one end and a few air-holes drilled randomly on all sides.
She glanced around to make sure the guards were not looking and then darted around to the back and crouched down. She tapped in the metal wall and someone inside whispered “Who’s there?”
“It’s Grace Carson. Who are you? Why did they put you in here?”
The voice replied, “Carla Finch — though they call me ‘Carl’. And I am in here for arguing with the Reverend in class, Grace.”
“Can I help you somehow, Carla? Do you know who has the key?”
Carla laughed. “No, no, Grace. I get out tomorrow. One of the guards has the key, and I don’t want you getting into any trouble on my account. You’re really becoming a legend around here, Grace. We all look up to you. Don’t mess up and end up in here like me, honey.”
The next few days passed uneventfully, with Grace dedicated to mostly surviving, keeping herself off the radar of Mrs. Watson, and collecting information. She really didn’t know what information she should be looking for, but she tried to make sure and see every square inch of the camp. She learned where the guards like to hang out at night. She noted every single camera in the camp and took pains to figure out the field of vision for each one.
She hoped that, one day, all of this data would be useful to her.
She’d just left the garage, after an almost tender session with Jimbo. I think he is getting a crush on me! She shuddered at that, but had to admit that with Jimbo, Pete, and Emily’s help this place was not getting to her as badly as it was before.
She was about to head back to her barracks when she saw a flash of light in the woods. She stopped and watched and saw it again, in two places. It looked like bobbing flashlights.
Throwing caution to the wind, she quietly followed the lights. It turned out to be a very long hike through a meandering path in the woods. After a long walk the lights ahead stopped and she heard muffled conversation. She’d never been this far from the camp proper before.
She came upon a forest clearing and noticed there were five people huddle around someone on the ground, spread out. She couldn’t identify the person, as their head was covered by a black bag. Two guards were on either side, each with a foot pressing down on the person’s left and right arms. Both guards had what looked like AK47 rifles. She spotted Hayes and Mrs. Watson and then noted Ray down at the foot of the unknown person. The last one she spotted should have been a surprise but wasn’t: the Sheriff.
She gasped and held her hand over her mouth in total horror as she saw what the person was laying on. It was a cross! Are they crucifying somebody! Oh no, surely that can’t be what is going on!
Hayes was ranting so she made a snap decision. She crept away, and then ran as fast as she could back to the Garage. She entered, saw no sign of Jimbo or anyone else, and retrieved the video camera. She checked the battery then hurried back as fast as she could quietly move.
I’ll get a recording of this. I can’t do anything about it, with them armed… but if I can get a video out I will bring this place down!
She slowly worked her way back in and found a good vantage point. Luckily someone had brought one of those electric lanterns with movable shades on each side, and had only opened the shade on the side facing the group. The glade would hide her — she hoped. And the light might be enough to record a decent video.
Hayes had stopped ranting and was holding a hammer in one hand and a metal spike in the other. He roared, “In the name of Jesus!” and set the spike at the wrist of his victim and began driving it in. Grace recorded it and zoomed in as much as possible, making sure to get Hayes, Watson, the Sheriff, and the faces of the guards as well in her recording.
His victim made muffled screams and his or her body jerked and thrashed while the guards held on tight. Under the hood, he or she must be gagged, she thought.
He drove the spike in the person’s other arm then handed the hammer to the Sheriff, who drove one into their feet. Grace fought nausea watching through the viewfinder of the camera. She zoomed in on the delighted grin of Mrs. Watson.
Hayes started spouting some more bible verses so she panned the camera around and saw that there were four other crosses in the clearing, all upright. One held a decomposing body. She recorded that then moved back to Hayes.
Hayes, Robinson, and the two guards drug the cross over to a certain spot and tilted it into the hole there. The victim was wearing the same clothes that Grace had on so she knew it was either a gay man or a transgendered woman like herself. She could hear the muffled screams of agony but couldn’t tell anything more.
Hayes and his flock stood there watching, and Hayes started preaching about damnation for all fags, eternity in Hell, and the usual things he spouted. Grace didn’t pay much attention; she just silently recorded it all.
The two guards who had helped secure the prisoner pulled out sleeping bags and looked to be getting ready to sleep here at the clearing, while Hayes and the rest were getting ready to go.
Grace had been planning to wait them out, then go over and try to help but with the guards and their automatic weapons remaining behind, this was going to be impossible.
Grace stopped recording, and made her way back to camp as fast as she could. On reaching the garage she hid the small video cassette in her hiding place where she kept her cigarettes. She then put the camera away inside the toolbox where she had been keeping it. She knew Mrs. Watson was a slow walker, so she lit a cigarette and tried to calm herself down.
Her hands were shaking but she was also thinking about getting that tape out to the world. Perhaps Emily could help? And, was there some way to get word out before that poor person died out there? She knew the office phones were not in service at night. She’d tried them.
What can I do? I can’t take on two people armed with automatic rifles! Jimbo and Pete, maybe? I don’t know if they’d help or not?
She walked back to the barracks, alternating between feeling horror and anger — and mind working furiously on some way to save that person on the cross.
“Mrs. Watson?” she asked, timidly.
“What do you want, Carson?” the woman snapped at her.
“I just wanted to ask where Maddy Seaver is? Her bunk was not slept in and she’s not anywhere around that I can find? Is she in solitary?”
Mrs. Watson replied “Marcus Seaver was paroled. He’s gone. And it’s none of your business anyway, Carson. Get to breakfast before you earn another demerit.”
“Another demerit?” Grace said.
The woman smiled hatefully as she wrote in her book. "You earned one by putting your nose where it don’t belong. Now, get out of here!”
Grace walked out of the building, numb. She knew who that unknown person being crucified was, now. She knew where people vanished to. She knew exactly what a ‘Scourge of God’ did. Tears rolled down her face as she stumbled along towards the Mess Hall. She ran into Pete, while even more furiously trying to think of a way to rescue Maddy.
“Grace, umm, Carson. What’s wrong? Why are you crying? What is it?”
Grace shook her head and continued crying as they entered. She was spotted by Emily and the woman rushed out and escorted Grace back into the rear of the kitchen.
“Grace, honey, what is wrong?”
Grace began sobbing. “They… they c-crucified her! Those sons of bitches are m-murdering my best friend!”
Emily was lost for what to say or do. “Grace, what do you mean? Are you talking about Maddy?”
“Y-yes. I saw them do it. I saw the whole thing. Those murdering b-bastards!”
“Oh honey!” Emily grabbed Grace into her arms as Grace bawled her eyes out.
After Grace had cried herself out, Emily said “Honey we have to get you out of here, somehow. This has to be ended. Maybe I could drive to the nearest State Police and bring them back here?”
Grace stopped crying. “No, Emily, we have to rescue Maddy before it is too late.”
Emily nodded. “How can I help?”
Grace told her. Emily nodded and they both headed out.
Grace and Emily marched into Jimbo’s quarters, surprising him. Jimbo was holding a picture of a beautiful woman with a grinning boy in her arms. She was herself surprised to see a half-empty bottled of vodka sitting beside him and an empty glass. He was not drunk but was not far from it.
“Jimbo! You have a key to most everything here, don’t you?”
“Well, yeah, I’m in charge of Maintenance and-“
“Give me the key to the basement of the Mess Hall, please.”
“Uh, Grace, you could get in a lot of trouble going down there, cause I think that is where they keep -“
“I am pretty sure they keep weapons there. Please. Give me the key, now.”
Jimbo looked troubled. “Grace... murder is a sin. I mean, it’s just wrong. I know they are hurting you and I’ve hurt you but I can’t let you go on some shooting rampage, ya know?”
Grace took a deep breath. “Jimbo, I do not plan to murder anyone. But... you have to understand something. I know where the people who vanish go, now.”
Jimbo looked surprised. “Where?”
“These sick fucks are crucifying them in the woods!” Grace nearly screamed it out.
“W-what? Surely you must be mistaken, Reverend Hayes would never-“
“I SAW IT HAPPEN!”
“Who… who was there, doing it?”
“My favorite people from here in camp, of course! Hayes. Mrs. Watson. Some of the guards. Oh, and yeah, your fine Sheriff as well!”
“The Reverend was there?”
“That sick son of a bitch was driving the nails into Maddy’s wrists!”
Jimbo sat in horror as his world unraveled.
Finally, he reached into his jean pocket and pulled out a keyring. He held it out to Grace. “Here. I’ll come along. This ain’t right.”
Grace took the key and squeezed Jimbo’s shoulder with her free hand. “I promise you, I won’t murder anyone, Jimbo. I will defend myself. But, this shit ends right now, one way or another. And we are going to save my best friend.”
Grace had noticed, in the two months she’d been here, that the lower level of the kitchen-slash-mess hall was inaccessible during her prowling. There was a door in the kitchen that presumably led downstairs but it had a deadbolt and she’d never seen it opened even once. A trash can was kept in front of it and she doubted that it was very much trafficked at all.
Outside the building, to the rear, was a door that led directly into the basement but it, too, was dead bolted. Grace had been in every building in the camp, with and without official approval — save for this one.
She slipped up to the outside door and tried the key. It worked! Grace opened the door carefully and went inside, followed by Jimbo, and Emily. She found a light switch and, not noting any windows, risked flipping it on.
What she found didn’t surprise her, after what she’d seen in the hands of the guards in the clearing. There were racks of rifles, shotguns, and pistols. Metal tins and cardboard boxes lined a shelving unit, labeled in various calibers of ammunition. Jimbo whistled in shock at how much was stockpiled.
Grace sat down to think for a moment. After spotting a hand truck, she knew just what to do. She pulled aside several boxes of 7.62 mm ammunition and then got Jimbo to help load all of the rest onto the hand truck. She also went down the racks, making sure that none of the weapons were loaded.
She shut off the light, peeked outside, then rolled her load of ammo to the woods. A quick search found a good hiding place and soon she and Emily had it buried under brush and leaves. The empty hand truck was returned to the weapons storage. She returned to the room to find Jimbo had picked out two AK-47s and a 9MM pistol. He handed the pistol to Emily and raised an eyebrow at Grace and offered an AK. “Do you know how to shoot this, Grace?”
Grace smiled grimly and nodded, and took the rifle.
Together, the three of them followed the trail back to the clearing. Jimbo told Emily to hang back as their backup, and she agreed and slid behind a tree.
Grace and Jimbo slowly crept up on the guards. Both seemed to be asleep. Jimbo signaled and moved on one guard while Grace snuck up to the other one. Within minutes both guards were tied up tightly and gagged.
Jimbo whistled for Emily and they all three rushed to the cross. After much straining they pulled it down and laid it flat and Grace untied the black cloth bag that was over the victim’s head.
It was indeed Maddy.
Grace wanted to break down crying but she forced herself to remain calm. Maddy’s face was bone white and she was not conscious. Her skin was icy to the touch, and when Grace found her pulse it was weak and rapid.
Jimbo pointed to Maddy’s feet and the blood staining the base of the cross. “She’s lost a lot of blood, Grace. I’m sorry but I don’t think-“
“NO! We are going to save her, Jimbo!”
Jimbo looked troubled but nodded in agreement. He worked on one side, Grace the other, removing the nails from Maddy’s wrists. Her lack of reaction to the operation told Grace that she was nearly gone. Emily ripped one of the guard’s shirts and bandaged both of Maddy’s wrists while Jimbo and Grace got the nail out of her feet. “Guttering nails,” Jimbo remarked.
Maddy began to hyperventilate and convulse. Grace and Emily held her tightly while Jimbo stood and shook his head sadly. He’d seen death before, and he knew it was here. Within a minute, she was gone.
Grace held her AK in shaky hands, barrel pressed against the forehead of a crying guard. He was still gagged, but begging for mercy, tears pouring from his eyes.
Emily spoke softly. “Grace, don’t do it, honey. It would be murder.”
Her hands kept shaking as Grace answered, “Emily I am doing all that I can not to pull this trigger, and then go back to camp and fill quite a few people with bullets. These murdering, twisted fucks killed Maddy!”
“You’re not like that, Grace, neither am I. We’d both shoot them in the act of something this vile, but in cold blood like this? No.” Emily laid a hand on Grace’s shoulder.
Grace pulled away from the guard and dropped to the ground sobbing. Emily held her and made soothing sounds and rocked her gently back and forth. Jimbo kept an eye on the guards and said nothing.
After a while, Grace rose and walked over to Jimbo. “Jimbo, would you do me a favor?”
“Sure, Grace. What do you want me to do?”
“March these two back to your garage, and tie them up there. I’ll let the police handle them, I suppose.” Grace didn’t look happy about it, but she knew this was the right thing to do.
“I’ll do it, Grace. I’m sorry about your friend. What are you going to do now?”
She glanced at Emily, then back at Jimbo. “I am bringing these sorry fucks to justice.”
Grace snuck back in to the barracks and headed straight for Jay’s cot. Looking around, she gently nudged him awake. He let out a soft cry — nobody in this hellhole slept soundly — and asked her what was wrong.
Whispering furiously, she pointed at the floor to her stolen firearms, told him what went on in the woods, and asked if he would join her in taking this place down. He smiled at her and nodded. “I was hoping this day would come, Grace. I’ll be glad to help in any way I can.”
“Thank you, Jay. Have you ever fired an AK-47?”
“No, but I’ve fired AR-15s, shotguns, and other types of rifle. I’ll do fine. What about you?”
Grace grinned. “In my previous gender I worked one summer at a rifle range. Don’t worry about me!”
She started to outline her plan when a flashlight snapped on in her face. She couldn’t see who it was until she heard a pleased voice say “Caught you, you miserable fag. Running around at night after curfew! Where did you steal the flashlight? You are getting twenty demerits this time! I can’t wait to see the whipping you are gonna get for this!” Mrs. Watson was ecstatic to finally bust Grace.
Grace didn’t look scared, or even particularly worried. She scooped up one of the rifles and stood, swinging the barrel around to point right between Mrs. Watson’s eyes.
The woman looked horror-struck. “Where... where did you get that gun?”
“It’s a rifle, not a gun, you retarded hateful bat. Now, let’s head to your office. One word or wrong move and I WILL shoot you. Count on that.”
Jay giggled and picked up his own AK, checked the change-lever, and looked at Grace.
“Set it all the way down, to semi-auto. I couldn’t bring a lot of ammo.”
He nodded and they marched Mrs. Watson into her office, Jay bringing up the rear and closing the door.
Mrs. Watson started to speak and received the butt of Grace’s AK upside her head. “I told you, no talking! You are a despicable excuse for a human being. By all rights you should be the one crucified, not Maddy.”
Mrs. Watson’s eyes got bigger.
“Oh, yes, I know. I was there, you piece of shit. I saw what you and that fat fuck Hayes did to my friend.”
The woman looked terrified. Grace looked around and her eyes settling on a roll of duct tape. “Perfect! Jay, let’s tape her to her chair, and be liberal with the tape. I don’t want her going anywhere tonight.”
Soon they had her completely immobilized. Jay looked at Grace. “Now what, Grace?”
Grace smiled grimly. “Now, we get the head of this serpent.”
Grace led Jay across the compound, flitting from building to building in the shadows. She really did not want to shoot anyone or start a fire-fight. They went on past the Admin building to a small gate with one guard. She pantomimed what she wanted and Jay nodded and headed toward the guard. He walked up slowly and asked the guard a question while Grace slipped behind.
Just as the guard started to answer, Grace’s AK crashed into his head and he went down like a sack of flour. She pulled the keys off his belt and after a few false tries they had the little gate open.
They walked up the path to the ‘parsonage’, as Hayes called it. It was a palatial mansion, in reality. It was set back nearly a half-mile from the camp. That played into Grace’s plans well. If things got chaotic and there was shooting she didn’t want the guards alarmed.
She motioned Jay to head to the back while she went to the front door. She tried the door but it was locked, so she rang the doorbell.
She kept ringing it until she heard motion in the house and moved to the side of the door, so she wouldn’t be seen. She wanted him to open the door and come out.
Hayes opened the door and looked out, a puzzled expression on his face. Unfortunately he had a pistol in his hand, but Grace didn’t see it until she’d already stepped into his sight. His eyes widened and he started to raise the pistol.
Without hesitation, Grace fired three rounds into his legs, shattering one of his kneecaps. He dropped the pistol and screamed, and she scooped it up and put it in her pocket. She then dragged the howling Hayes inside and shut the door.
Thirty minutes later found Grace relaxing in a recliner, smoking a cigarette and watching Hayes, who sat on the sofa, tied up in rope they’d found in his garage. She had hastily bandaged his legs to stop the bleeding.
Jay stood beside her, cradling the AK he’d brought. “Now what, Grace? I have to admit, you throw a hell of a party, girl!”
Grace giggled. “Oh, but there’s other guests coming to this party, Jay. I need you to go back to camp and bring them, if you wouldn’t mind?”
“Anything for you, doll! Who did you have in mind?”
Grace told him, and he nodded thoughtfully. “Okay, I’ll be back with them as quick as I can!”
“Be careful and watch out for the guards, Jay. I don’t want you hurt.”
She ground her finished cigarette out in the rich pile carpet with her foot while Hayes just glared at her.
“Bet that knees hurts, doesn’t it, Jonny-Boy?” She pulled out a fresh cigarette and lit up, actually enjoying the moment.
“You will PAY for this, you Satan-worshiping fag! I’ll see you BURN for this!”
He would have gone on but Grace slapped a strip of duct tape over his mouth. “Ya know, Jonny, this stuff is just too handy! Ah, so much better. They say that silence is golden, don’t they? And I have heard enough of your sick sermonizing to last me a lifetime!”
She sat back down and looked at him. “So, Jon-Boy, crucified anyone lately?” She said it lightly but her face was anything but light. His eyes grew wide.
“Ah, yes. You have, haven’t you? Yeah, I saw it all you know. Your fat ass is going to prison, Jonny. Probably for life. If there’s any justice at all in this world, you will have a huge well-hung cellmate named Tyrone who will introduce you to the joy of sodomy! You like to talk about it so much; it is high time you did some… research… on the subject.”
Grace was enjoying watching his eyes as she talked. He looked terrified, then angry, then terrified again.
She managed to smoke three more cigarettes before Jay reappeared with her guest list in tow. Emily took the scene in, then rushed over to Grace and hugged her tightly. “Oh, Grace, thank God you are alright! And look what you’ve done! You’re amazing!” Grace grinned at her friend and offered her a cigarette, which Emily eagerly took.
Pete looked dumbstruck. “Grace… you shot the Reverend? You tied him up? And Mrs. Watson? I don’t… I don’t understand?”
The aforementioned Mrs. Watson was shoved onto the sofa beside Hayes.
“Petey… they’ve been murdering people in the woods. Crucifying them, to be precise. They killed Maddy, and they should consider themselves lucky they are still breathing. I am ending the murdering, and this terrible death camp, now.”
Pete’s eyes became huge and his mouth formed an ‘O’ of horror. “They were KILLING people?! Oh My God!” He sat down in a chair, stunned.
Her fourth guest lumbered into the room, not drunk but not feeling too much pain either. Jimbo looked around and started laughing. “Grace. You’re a crazy bitch, ya know that? Can’t believe you got Hayes!”
Grace grinned and said “Oh, I am not done, yet. How are your two guests?”
Jimbo kept laughing and sat down on the arm of the sofa, away from Hayes and his glaring flunky. “Oh, they are a bit tied up. Well, more than a bit. They won’t be going anywhere for a long time. So, what now? You’ve got the Bad Guys, don’t you?”
Jay spoke up “Yeah, Grace, what now? Do we make our getaway?”
Grace shook her head. “Nope. We would just end up chased by the Sheriff and even the State Cops. He’d put out an APB on us as murderers or drug dealers or who knows what. No, my plan hasn’t come to fruition, yet.”
They all stared at her, waiting. She paused dramatically, lit a cigarette, and blew smoke into Mrs. Watson’s face. “Kids, we’re all going to church!”
Emily said “What, you mean right now?”
Grace giggled. “No, silly, we are going in the morning. Right now, I think we should enjoy the good Reverend’s hospitality. We can whip up a nice breakfast and have some fun before the sermon.”
Pete looked puzzled. “You’re going to let him preach?”
That set Grace giggling even more. “Oh, Petey you are a trip. No, tomorrow’s sermon will be delivered by Reverend Grace Carson.”
Grace and Emily went in the huge kitchen to work on a meal for them all. She had a thought and asked Emily “Did you get Sarah to cover for you?”
Emily nodded. “Yes, she usually fills in for me at least two Sundays a month, and this happens to be one of them. So, nobody should notice a thing wrong.”
Emily and Grace cooked a large meal and served it just before sunrise. Emily had wanted Grace to rest and let her cook alone but Grace insisted on helping. “It takes my mind off things. I need to stay busy.”
The food was delicious, and they all enjoyed the meal. Grace became melancholy a few times thinking about Maddy, but Emily stayed close and kept an eye on her. After eating, the women enjoyed cigarettes and blowing smoke into Watson and Hayes faces while chatting.
“Emily, when I am done here this camp is history. I hope that you can find a new job.”
“Don’t worry about that, Grace dear. Let’s just get through this and come out safe and I will be fine.”
After resting, Grace went prowling until she found the treasure she was after: Hayes cell phone. She’d seen him talking on it while roaring into camp in his SUV many times. And, wonder of wonders, it had service here at his home! She made herself comfortable at his desk and dialed ‘Long Distance Information’.
She ended up making many phone calls until she tracked down the people she was looking for. She smoked and talked for almost an hour, and when she was done, she hung up with a smile.
In the spacious garage was the 2004 Cadillac Escalade Platinum SUV that Hayes used for day-to-day running about. Next to it was a Porsche. Grace rolled her eyes.
“It seems the Lord takes good care of murdering douchebags, doesn’t He? Or, maybe, just maybe, someone has been living it up on the donations of people who ought to know better?”
Hayes was still groaning but he shot her a venomous look. “You… filthy… fag. You won’t get away with this. The Sheriff works… for me! He will take you down and send you to Hell where you belong!”
“Yeah, yeah. Heard all of your shit way too many times, Jon-Boy. I’m done with you, you know. So kindly shut the fuck up. On second thought, I don’t want to chance hearing any more of your hate, so…” She slapped a fresh strip of tape over his mouth. She'd tried to be nice and let him be free of the tape. Shows me what good impulses will do for me with this particular idiot!
They pushed Hayes and Mrs. Watson into the rear of the Escalade. Jimbo taped their wrists behind their backs as a final touch.
They all got in the car, and Jimbo drove. Grace and Emily smoked while Pete and Jay kept an eye on their ‘guests’ in the rear from the second row of seats.
Services started at 10:30 AM sharp, so Grace timed it so that they would arrive about five minutes late to the church. She had Jimbo pull up to the front of the church, first. She, Emily, and Jimbo got out. Jay and Pete remained in the car with their cargo.
“Ok, Emily, do your song and dance, honey. Just get him out here and we’ll do the rest.”
Emily nodded and headed into the church. After a few minutes she came back out, leading the Sheriff. At the sight of two rifles pointed at him he meekly surrendered his gun.
Grace addressed her group. “All right, Emily didn’t see anyone else armed, and you all are certain the Sheriff is usually the only armed person at church?”
Everyone agreed and Grace decided it was time for the sermon. They all piled in the Escalade, save for Jimbo and Emily, who remained at the entrance. Grace drove around to the back entrance and parked in the Reverend’s parking space. She and Jay entered by the back door, rifles in hand.
Grace had taken the opportunity to put on makeup and lipstick at the Parsonage before they headed out. She’d fluffed her hair out somewhat, though it was still much too short to suit her. She figured she looked the best she could, considering the circumstances.
Emily shocked her by pulling out a dress, one of several she found in a guest room. It fit decently, so Grace decided to wear it. After all, she was going to church, shouldn’t she dress up?
She walked through a short hallway and came to the door that opened to the side of the pulpit area. After a glance at Jay, who had Hayes in hand, she grabbed Mrs. Watson and propelled her forward. “Put all the slime in the same bucket” she had said.
There were gasps and people began to stand up as the little procession walked out the door and into sight. Grace lifted her AK and fired a few rounds into the ceiling and yelled “Quiet! And SIT DOWN!”
The congregation all dropped back into their seats.
Jay dumped Hayes beside the podium and Grace shoved Mrs. Watson towards the crowd. The inmates on the front four rows were in total shock. Grace eyed them all and winked at them, trying to reassure them.
She stepped up to the podium and flipped the microphone amplifier to “ON.”
Her first words were direct and to the point. “I have a few things to say. I’d appreciate not being interrupted, and no, you can’t leave. You’re a captive audience, indeed!”
She addressed her fellow inmates first. “As of today you are all free men and women. You don’t have to put up with this garbage any longer.” She looked back out to the rest and delivered her sermon.
Chapter 6: Was Blind, But Now I See
“Now there is a final reason I think that Jesus says, "Love your enemies." It is this: that love has within it a redemptive power. And there is a power there that eventually transforms individuals. Just keep being friendly to that person. Just keep loving them, and they can’t stand it too long. Oh, they react in many ways in the beginning. They react with guilt feelings, and sometimes they’ll hate you a little more at that transition period, but just keep loving them. And by the power of your love they will break down under the load. That’s love, you see. It is redemptive, and this is why Jesus says love. There’s something about love that builds up and is creative. There is something about hate that tears down and is destructive. So love your enemies.” — Martin Luther King, Jr.
“You know, it occurred to me to burn this hate-filled house of horror down with all of you in it. You deserve no less. Burn the camp down, too. Shoot the guards, shoot that hate-filled broken bitch there, and blow Hayes away. But, that is the kind of thing that you people do. I am not like you. I don’t want to be like you. I come from a different place, you see. I believe in love, honor, and doing unto others as you’d like them to do unto you.”
She heard several whispered comments and caught the word “fag” several times. Grace frowned, raised the AK up to the ceiling and fired a three-round burst. Things got very quiet again after the shrieks from the women. Mrs. Watson was glaring at her with a face full of pure hatred.
“Kindly shut the fuck up while I am talking or I will be quite happy to shoot some of you losers. I’m quite good with guns; I worked at a shooting range once, you know.”
Grace smiled and nodded as the room went dead silent. “That’s better. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, your despicable hate-filled existence. You hate gays, lesbians, and transgendered people. You don’t even know why! You fear us, loathe us, wish us dead, even murder us! All because we are different from you.”
She paused and lit a cigarette, smirking at the audible sniffs and glares from her audience, and then continued. “My best friend in the world was dragged in here and turned into a slave by you people. When she wouldn’t conform, what did you do? You murdered her. You didn’t just shoot her, oh no, you fucking crucified her!“
She bit back a sob and took a deep breath, then glared at the entire congregation and had to mentally calm herself before continuing. They had no idea how close to just blowing every one of them away she really was.
“Most of you people knew what was going on, I am sure!” She pointed at Mrs. Owen. “And some of you deserve to be riding a cross a lot more than Maddy did. Like Mrs. Owen here. You are filled with hatred and not an ounce of compassion. You deserve death far more than my friend did!” Mrs. Owen glared at Grace but didn't respond.
“You are all worthless scum! You knew what was going on in that Camp-From-Hell, and yet you turned a blind eye to it. You are no better than the Germans who lived near the concentration camps and ignored the horrible things going on. No better!” She slapped the podium hard, making the people jump.
“I’ve heard of the ‘banality of evil’, where your average person will embrace doing despicable things to other human beings just because some figure in authority told them to do it. The Nazis who slaughtered eleven million people said that they were merely following orders. You are no different! You let this fat hypocritical fuck that calls himself a ‘reverend’ order your life as he pleased and murder people just for being different!” She kicked Hayes in the crotch and smirked at his wheeze and moaning.
“You all came together under this pig for one reason: hate! Have any of you ever actually READ A BIBLE?! Jesus was all about love and caring for other people and doing unto others. This slime-ball laying here perverted the word of Jesus! And you all followed him! If the Bible is true, don’t you think that Hayes and those of you who followed him are in for it with the Big Guy?”
“Let me share something with you pathetic cretins. Gay, lesbian, and transgendered people are just that: people. None of us asked to be as we are. We just are. But Hayes cherry-picks a few phrases from the Bible and suddenly we deserve death?! I can’t heap enough condemnation upon this pile of shit here. But you people! You should have known better. What is the matter with you all?”
“I wish I could just mow your pathetic bodies down as you deserve; but as I said before, I am not like you. I cherish human life, dignity, and love, and I cannot lower myself down to your level.”
Her eyes bored a hole into each and every one of them. “Ignorance can be fixed, you know. But stupidity is terminal! And you are some of the stupidest people I’ve ever had the misfortune to interact with!”
“So, I am going to do the worst thing that I can do to you worthless hate-filled idiots. I am going to leave you to live your shitty lives. Live with the knowledge of all the murders you were a part of. The lives you helped ruin through your hate and your bigotry. Keep wallowing in your self-righteous bullshit. Waste your lives on hate and idiocy all that you wish. Karma is a bitch, and I hope that each and every one of you finds that out. The rest of our country will move on without you.”
She looked around at the people in the room and didn’t see much in the way of contrition or even sadness over what they’d condoned and been part of. They mostly stared at her with either fear or hatred. She wasn’t particularly surprised to not find any remorse in this bunch. Hayes chose his flock well.
Grace started to step away from the podium but leaned back to the microphone one last time. “Oh, I’d advise all of you very strongly to not show your face outside the door of this place until we are long gone. If any of us sees your ass outside, we will shoot to kill. Fuck you all, and goodbye.”
She flicked her cigarette butt at Hayes and marched down the aisle with Jay right behind her. The Sheriff started to rise when she reached his pew but her rifle swung towards him and he sat back down. He said “You know you won’t get away for long. You’ll be tracked down and go to prison or end up shot. You’re armed and dangerous. You already shot the Reverend.”
Grace didn’t trust herself to respond, fearing she’d become violent. And while holding this rifle that would be a bad thing so she just walked on.
They reached the doors and went out, and she pointed Jay at the old F-150. He nodded, and as they had discussed, he started it and ran it up the steps tight against the doors, barricading the congregation inside.
Luckily for Grace, Hayes had decided that windows would let ‘worldly distractions’ into his church and mess with his captive audience. So, there were no windows. Just the front double-doors and the back door she’d entered by. That door was barricaded shut now, as well.
“That should hold them for a while!”
Emily, Jimbo, and Pete walked away from the church entrance and over to Grace and Jay. Emily smiled. “We heard every word, dear. That was inspiring!”
Jimbo grinned and nodded. “I hope I was just ignorant and not stupid, Grace. I can’t make up for my hate and for…”
Grace shook her head. “Jimbo, the worst you did to me pales beside their overall hatred and bigotry. You changed once you got to know me. You tried to make up for it. That counts a lot, with me.”
Pete asked “What now, Grace?”
“Now, we wait a little while.”
Hours passed, and Grace amused herself by plunking a shot into the roof of the church anytime she heard sounds of someone trying to open the doors. Things always got quiet after that.
Eventually a helicopter appeared and circled down in a field near the church and landed. It was a State Police helicopter. Three men hopped out and walked over to Grace and her motley crew.
“Grace Carson?” the man in aviator sunglasses, suit and tie, and a badge in hand said. Grace nodded. “I’m Special Agent Roy Jackson.” He gestured to the black man at his right. “This is Agent Cal Stevens, ATF.” He gestured left. “This is John Calhoun, Deputy Attorney General.”
They all shook hands with Grace. “So, where are our problem children that you told us about, Grace?”
She smiled and gestured at the church. “They’re in there, just waiting for you guys!”
Grace introduced her group and then said “Emily, give Agent Jackson the tape, please.” Emily pulled out the videotape that Emily had been holding for her.
“That’s the tape I told you of on the phone. I recorded their leaders crucifying my best friend. There’s a clearing deep in the woods where you will find the crosses, a few corpses, and unless I am much mistaken several dozen graves.”
“We’ll make sure justice is served here, Grace. Would all of you be willing to testify in court as to the events here?”
“Damned right we will,” Jimbo answered. Pete nodded, Jay said “Try and stop me.”
Emily said “I have a duty to testify. You just tell me when and where.”
Grace grinned. “I don’t think you will have any problems getting us to talk about this mess, Agent.”
“I am so glad to see you guys!” Grace said. “I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to get anyone to come. The local Sheriff was up to his ears in it, as was his deputies.”
“That’s one of our functions, Grace,” Stevens spoke up. “When the local LEOs are knee-deep in the conspiracy and are in there committing crimes hand-in-hand with the bad guys; the Feds are here to come in and clean house.”
Jackson added “Grace, camps like this have sprung up all over the Midwest and South. In most cases, they stay on the edge of the law and we can’t do anything about it. I am sorry for the loss of your friend. But let me assure you that this particular camp and the crazies who were running it are toast.”
Police and ATF cars and vans began pulling in and discharging officers armed and in full gear. The agents left Grace and her friends and began directing their new arrivals to the church. One agent moved the pickup truck and agents moved in, pistols drawn. Soon, Hayes was led out by two agents. Mrs. Watson and the Sheriff followed.
Grace was pleased to see handcuffs on the unholy trio.
The agents in charge had vanished into an FBI van but soon Agent Stevens came back to Grace. “We watched the tape you provided, Grace. These are some sick people. We’ll get a forensics team into those woods and recover the bodies. I’ll need everyone’s contact information. We will set up a debriefing in a few days with each of you at your convenience.”
Grace nodded and the agent headed back to his team.
“Emily, I am exhausted. I guess I could go to the motel if you’d give me a ride?”
Emily snorted. “You’re coming to my house, Grace Carson. Where you will be pampered and fussed over within an inch of your life!”
Grace looked at Jimbo and Pete and Jay. “What about you guys?”
Jimbo answered, “They can hang out with me at my uncle’s house if they want. He has spare bedrooms.”
The two men looked happy with that arrangement, so Grace smiled and thanked Jimbo.
“I’ll see you all later I am sure. Thank you for helping put an end to this madness.”
Epilogue
It is not tolerable, it is not possible, that from so much death, so much sacrifice and ruin, so much heroism, a greater and better humanity shall not emerge. - Charles de Gaulle
The day was gorgeous with blue skies and bright sunshine. Flowers decorated many of the plots. It truly was a beautiful cemetery.
Grace walked up to the headstone and stood looking at it. It was simple and brought her to tears as she read it.
In her hand was a canvas shopping bag. She pulled a quilt out and spread it by the headstone. She then pulled out a bottle of Chardonnay and a wine glass. She grabbed the corkscrew from her purse and opened the wine, then poured herself a glass. Lastly, she lit one of her cigarettes, the 120mm version of Virginia Slims that Maddy always preferred. She sat down on the quilt, tailor-fashion.
“I won’t ever forget you. Every time I smoke one of these I’ll remember you — which will be often! And I will always keep a bottle of this stuff around in your memory as well.”
She took a sip and continued. “You always encouraged me to get my surgery, something you never managed to save up for but wanted to? Well, I am going to do it, Maddy. I hope that you will be proud of me!”
She took the bottle of wine and turned it upside down over Maddy’s grave. “You’d say I just wasted good wine, but I feel that somehow, somewhere, you know that I am sharing your favorite wine with you.”
She sat silently for a while, smoking and sipping the wine. Her thoughts touched on many happy times with Maddy.
“I’ve been busy since getting out of that hellhole. I was accepted at a job out in California, in Silicon Valley! With a good income, and they will help pay for my GRS. I just wish you could be here to share all this with me, honey.”
Grace grimaced and said softly, “You were always a leader, Maddy. I was always the one who stayed in the background and never ever called attention to myself. I had to become a leader, of sorts, to get through this. I had to step forward and make things happen. I’d like to think I followed your examples.”
“All of the inner circle from that horrible place are in jail, now. Hayes will never walk well again. I can’t say I am sorry for that. The Sheriff and Judge are doing time, as well. I hope you can rest in peace, knowing that the evil people who did this to you are in jail. I suppose you could call it justice.”
“I wanted to shoot them Maddy! I wanted to kill them so badly for what they did to you! But, I just couldn’t bring myself to murder. I know that you’d understand and agree with me. We aren’t like them, and we never wanted to become like them, either.”
“I could have killed them, yes. And yes I hate them with every fiber of my being. But, I couldn’t kill them for that hate.”
“I owe so much to you. I am the person I am today because of your love and support. I hope that you knew.”
She tipped the glass and drained the wine inside, then set the glass on Maddy’s headstone.
“I’m going to be leaving now, hon. I’ve got to finish packing and get started moving. I will miss you so much! Goodbye, and know that I loved you, my dearest friend!”
She stood, picked up the quilt and put it away. She decided to leave the wine bottle, standing beside the glass.
The End.
Afterword
I appreciate all comments made and any yet to be made, and of course the Kudos you’ve awarded this story. I hope this story was not too much of a “downer” for this site. I certainly know that it would be a poor fit at some of the other TG sites!
I wrote this story because I felt it needed to be written. Grace’s story is not at all fanciful, magical, or unbelievable. I love fantasy, but Grace’s story just popped out. It is the 21st Century, and we still have people around like Reverend Hayes, Mrs. Watson, et al. Sad, isn’t it?
But, that IS balanced with people like Emily, Pete, Maddy, and Grace herself. In the end, I do believe that love, honor, and respect will win out against hatred.
J.S.