John and the story of a wrongful conviction (from my novel "The children of yesterday")

John and the story of a wrongful conviction (from my novel The children of yesterday)

 

(Background: John is a young death-row inmate of the maximum security prison of Raiford, Florida. He is renown among his fellow-prisoners for his intelligence and competence in law, so that he often helps other inmates. Here is the story of his neighbor, Tobias, unfortunately based on true facts).

 

In the new corridor, John felt comfortable. It was inhabited by old prisoners, so it was quiet, and several of them looked like interesting people, people he could learn something from. His cell was the last one in the line, so he had only one neighbor: Tobias Keller, one of oldest in the whole death-row. John knew his story, like that of many others: he had read it in judgments and considered it even more shocking than his own.

It was a quiet and sleepy afternoon, after lunch: it was hot, and John was lying on his bed reading yet another book (a thriller by Dennis Lehane, a son of Irish people, like him). The heat was such that he was wearing only boxers and, over these, shorts: he heard nothing from the cell to his left and supposed Tobias was sleeping. At about 3 pm, however, he heard a rustling and some slow movements, as if his neighbor were cautiously approaching the bars. The young man left the book open on his chest, crossed his arms under his head and began to reflect.

Keller (his surname must be German) lived in Pensacola, had been on death row since the distant 1977: for almost 30 years. And he was innocent. Anyone would have noticed it, reading the papers relating to him: but, obviously, that was not enough for those who had put him behind bars. His story was so absurd that the same John, after all what he had witnessed, could hardly believe it.

 

 

In Pensacola, Keller was a wealthy fabrics and clothing merchant, well-liked in the community, and he owned a large warehouse next to his house. One December evening, on December 31st, 1976, to be precise, Tobias returned home after a short business trip and first came into the warehouse. According to his story, when he got in the dark, while still looking for the switch to turn on the light, he suddenly felt someone pouncing on him and defended himself as best as he could. He heard a gunshot and, being armed himself, fired blindly against his attacker; at the same instant, he felt a sharp pain in his abdomen and fell unconscious, while the weight of his assailant slumped on him like a sack.

He recovered after a while, moved his hand to the spot of his stabbing pain and his fingers were wetted by something warm. With the energy of despair, he painfully dragged himself towards the phone, fortunately located a yard or two from the entrance, on the counter: still lying on the floor, he pulled the wire and the receiver fell on his head. He managed to dial 911 and waited, feeling lost in a dead silence. What Tobias didn’t know was that, in the back room of the store, there were the corpses of his wife, Ava as well, and of her sister, Laureen, and in the kitchen, which was the first room of the house overlooking the shop, that of his mother-in-law Lisa: all of them killed by a dozen gunshots. After miraculously escaping death, after two months in intensive care at the hospital, Keller was charged with the quadruple murder of his wife, his sister-in-law, his mother-in-law and the man who had attacked him, who finally turned out to be the brother of his clerk. And so, after what was, obviously, a robbery gone tragically wrong, Tobias had been accused of being the author, for unspecified reasons, of the massacre of his own family, including the brother of his cashier (it was hardly clear what he was doing there on the night of 31st December): in June 1977 he had been finally sentenced. To death. Apart from a volunteers' association which had taken his case to heart, he had no one left.

John heard him gasping. He knew that Tobias, in addition to suffering particularly from heat and having a weak heart, was affected with asthma. He got out of his bed and walked over to the bars to check if he was all right.

- Hi, Toby. All right?

Looking through the bars, to the side, he glimpsed the emaciated profile of his fellow prisoner and the rhythmic, wheezing lifting of his chin. John had a great consideration for Tobias: he was a fine man, quiet, well-educated. Every time he had to deal with him, he learned something useful and interesting. And then, he felt deep compassion for him: after all, he felt almost luckier than him, because he was younger and still had his wife, his beautiful Ada. But Toby was completely alone.

- Yes, Double-u, thank you. All right -. The answer was calm, but gasping and the content did not seem to correspond exactly to his situation. Of course, it was not an asthma attack itself: in that case, John would be clinging to the bars and start yelling or banging a metal object against them. It was, however one of those circumstances when one feels the discomfort of the other, a real uneasiness, but not enough to generate a real alarm and so, it will not be taken seriously. If Keller had had a real asthma attack, the guards would have called a nurse; but Tobias' suffering stemmed largely from the sweltering heat and his weak heart. It was still not enough to get help. John felt helpless: he wanted to help his companion, but did not know how to. So he had to remain there, motionless and silent, without having the slightest idea what to do. Suddenly, he surprised himself by thinking:

- Lord, help him ... I beg you to help him. This poor man needs your help. Have mercy on him. He has nothing ...- and he stayed like that, in simple listening, feeling empty. John was a believer, and he came from a Catholic family, like Ada: but as a boy, during his tumultuous adolescence, he had lost the thread of his contacts with the transcendent. Moreover, in the past, even when that thought crept into his mind, he tried to not care. Ever since his problems had begun at school, in middle school, and then gradually throughout his teens, when he faced a sacred image - especially those of Christ, but also the Holy Virgin - he felt he deserved only reproaches. He had known his Ada for years now, and she, so cheerful, affectionate, and loving, spontaneously conveyed a very different image of faith; for her and, surely, also for others, God was mercy, tenderness. And she showed him all the time. But John, although he clung to the love of his girlfriend with all his strength, could not perceive for himself other possibilities of affection beyond her. And when she shared her experience of faith with him, so bright and full of hope, although not immune from difficulties or arid moments, he felt the desire and a burning longing for that tenderness, but he also felt how far it was from him. He felt unworthy: as a too-poor child contemplating the window of a candy store from the outside, knowing that he is not allowed to enter.

John shook himself from his thoughts for a moment to keep interested in his cell neighbor. Little by little, Tobias' breath seemed to subside; the young man felt a genuine relief. A little longer and a light breeze, coming no one knew from where, started to blow in the hallway. It must be a coincidence, John thought: God does not deal with such insignificant prayers as his. However, he felt some relief in that unexpected gust of wind and a hint of hope.

- Thank you, John - Tobias muttered. The young man was surprised: why was his neighbor thanking him? He had not done anything special. In addition, he was surprised to hear himself called by name: now, only Ada did it.

- You have nothing to thank me for. Is it going a bit better?

- Yes, it’s better, thanks. - Then Tobias admitted he did not feel well, despite what he had just said. They were silent for a long time, staring at the patch of clear sky through the windows opening on the opposite wall. John felt that, with Tobias, there was no need for words: simply staying close to each other in silence created a climate of human proximity between them which the young man had not felt for a long time. He realized that, to Keller, he would have gladly given his trust: a feeling he had not experienced seriously in years, with any other inmate.

A slight flutter of wings slammed against the opposite window and the two men just glimpsed a little sparrow coming up to the glass and then flying away immediately. Keller's face softened into a gentle smile.

- When I lived in Pensacola - he began - I owned a boat. Weekends, from April, I really loved going out to sea and Ava often came with me. The sea was something fabulous in the sun: it seemed an expanse of white gold flakes. Sometimes we glimpsed dolphins. Their silver backs suddenly emerged in our wake and wham! When I stretched my hand and I seemed to be very close to them, almost touching them, there they dived and disappeared.

- Dolphins are spectacular animals - John added - they come to the rescue of swimmers in distress.
- True - Tobias nodded. Then he was silent. More silence, that John did not dare to interrupt.

- See - he suddenly started again - when they arrested me, it had been a bit of a while that many neighbors didn't greet me anymore. I had defended a black man, who was trying to start his own business in my own field, fabrics. He wanted to open a small shop near the downtown. I gave him a hand, advice, and defended him against other traders. The shop even suffered some acts of vandalism; but I believe it's still there.

- Did they frame you for that?

- I don't know; maybe. I was known in the city and, after those events, I became inconvenient. I realized during the trial that many looked at me askance and would rather draw a pen stroke on me. I never told anyone.

John remained absorbed, but smiled instinctively. He was able to measure all the extraordinary nature of this confidence: he felt his heart swelling with sudden gratitude. Besides, he had never felt any sympathy for racists and instinctively sympathized with the poor. However, almost embarrassed by that unexpected moment of confidence, he wanted to give their speech a note of youthful optimism.

- Come on, Toby - he laughed - one day, if we get out, my wife will prepare lasagna and roast beef. What do you say? Would you come to our house as a guest?

Tobias laughed in turn. - Sure! Your wife, besides, must be a good cook anyway. And you, you are invited from now on onto my boat, even if I've to buy it again. Don't you like the sea, Captain? The beaches of Escambia County are very white and it's a wonder walking along them ...