Lanterns of Babylon

CHAPTER TWENTY - Convicted
This is Chapter 20 of Lanterns of Babylon. If you would like to read the story from the beginning, please click on the pink tabs above.

Betty came and bailed Josh out of jail. They walked down the long corridor of the police department past pictures of Officers of the Month. Betty was not happy.

“I don’t mind these late afternoon visits to the drunk tank, but could you tell me why you turned down Coppola?”

“I didn’t like the script.”

“You haven’t liked a script since “Street Shadow”.”

“I need a challenge, Betty. The last script I saw that I liked was “Bound for Glory”, but Carradine tied that one up.” Betty shook her head. Josh Smythe was on top of the world. He won an Oscar for the role of Speedo. Five of the top ten all time grossing movies starred Josh Smythe. He was briefly married to Carlise St. James, regarded by many as the world’s most beautiful woman. After six months, they had an amicable divorce, citing career interference. Josh wanted to act. Carlise wanted to continue modeling in France.

There was nothing Josh couldn’t have, but he’d become very choosy with scripts. It was becoming harder and harder to top himself.

“At least you don’t need to work,” said Betty. 

A more sober Josh looked at her. “What do you mean?”

“Remember what the judge said last time? You will have your license suspended. That’s going to go on for a year. I’ll call Malibu Limo and arrange a chauffeur for you.” 

He gave her a dismissive wave. “Whatever floats your boat.”

As they came out of the station, a half dozen photographers were waiting for him. Light bulbs flashed as Josh waved at them.

“I can’t seem to lose you guys,” he said with a smile.

“This way!” shouted a photographer.

“Over here, Josh!” screamed another one.

“They must have all radios with police bands” sniffed Betty. “Let’s get you home.”

On the way to his house, Betty stopped for groceries.

“You’re going to need some solid food in you,” she said.

“Yes mother,” he replied.

While she was in the market, Josh pulled the car seat back and fell asleep. He had a hangover that was turning mean. Just as he was about to drift off to sleep, Betty returned, tossing the full bags on the back seat.

“Let’s go Mr. Smythe, before the ice cream melts.” 

Twenty minutes later, they pulled up in Josh’s driveway and Betty turned her engine off.

“Thanks Betty. I’ll get the groceries.” He reached into the back for a bag.

“Listen Josh, I want to thank you.”

“It’s no problem, I’ve got the light bag.”

 She shook her head. “That’s not why I’m thanking you.” There was something in her voice that got his attention.

“What is it?” 

She took a breath. “You are my biggest client. You’ve made me a millionaire several times over.  But it’s time I got out.” This was a surprise.

“You’re getting out? But you’re only in your…late forties?”  he said, taking a guess.

“More like fifty-four, but thanks. I’m going to announce it to the agency tomorrow.” Josh sat in the front seat, holding the grocery sack. This was more of a shock than a surprise.

“Nothing I’ve done I hope.” This bit of news was sobering him up fast.

“Of course not. You’ve been a lot less trouble than some I’ve had. I just want to spend time with my family and do a little traveling.”

“Who’s going to handle me?”

“Abe Firestone has been slobbering over you for years. Charles and Tina are taking over at the agency. I’d recommend you stay with them, but Abe’s good too.” 

He nodded. “I trust your advice Betty. You know I do.” On shaky legs, he hefted the groceries and got out of the car. As he got out, she started her engine. Josh didn’t miss the tears welling up in Betty’s eyes.

“Gotta go Josh. Bye.”

“So long Betty. You’re welcome here anytime.” He changed arms with the groceries and watched her drive off. Then he found his keys and entered the Malibu house. “Good old Betty,”  he said to himself.

He checked his handsome features in the entry way mirror. His head throbbed. He had become a health nut, swearing off drugs and exercising regularly. He still had his occasional drinking binges, but at thirty-three, he was in pretty good shape. Maybe I’ll grow my hair out again, he thought.

Yep, he was on top of the world. And despite dozens of affairs and a six-month marriage, he realized that his agent was the best friend he’d ever had. And while she mentioned her family, he only knew about her husband. Did Betty have any kids? How old were they? Yes sir, she was his closest friend. And she was getting out of his life.

Judd dreamed about Goldie. They were having a picnic in a meadow. He could hear children playing near by, but he couldn’t see them. In his dream, Goldie was tugging at his sleeve.

“Judd?” He turned, but Goldie wasn’t there. He could hear her voice and feel the tug at his sleeve. “Judd?” He kept looking out at the meadow, looking for Goldie. Where was she? “Judd.” 

Jerry stood over him. A doctor was also standing over him, speaking French.

“Where am I?” 

Jerry turned and spoke to someone. “He’s conscious.” Mickey Yulin and Lena Welch, the cinematographer came into view.

“How are you feeling, Judd?” Judd couldn’t clear his head. His vision was blurred. The doctor was doing something to his leg. His eyes moved to his right leg. It was heavily bandaged and in a splint.

“What happened?” Then he went back to the dream meadow.

The second time he woke up, Judd recognized Lena.

“Hey lady, why aren’t you on the location shooting?” Lena, one of the finest cinematographers from Norway, reached over and patted him on the shoulder.

“It’s Sunday,” she said in her thick, Norwegian accent. “Jerry just left. It’s my turn to watch you.” 

Judd was doing the math in his head. Sunday. Now he remembered. The stunt…gag, had been performed on Friday.

“I’ve been out three days?”

“You’ve been out for nine days. I’ll go see the doctor.”

“Hey,” he said in a weak, unfamiliar voice. She turned. “Did you get the shot?” 

She gave him a pained smile. “We had four cameras rolling. We got it.”

She left the room. He had never been so thirsty. He looked around for a glass. There was a buzzer to call the nurse. He reached for it. At least he tried to reach for it, but his arm wouldn’t move. In fact, he couldn’t even feel his arms…or anything below his neck for that matter.

“Get me some cigarettes.” Senta looked into Kayla’s dark, angry eyes. This was not a polite request. It was a demand.

When the women’s unit got a weightlifting room, Kayla was the first customer. In eighteen months, she built an already impressive figure into a super human. At five-ten and a hundred and sixty-five pounds, she was solid muscle and stronger than a lot of men. Her white, blond hair was barely a crew cut. At first glance, Kayla looked like a muscle bound male. Her temper and physicality was as strong as any male.

Senta’s only contact with the woman was drug transactions only. Now they were in the cafeteria and Kayla was sitting opposite Senta, making her demand.

“Get me some cigarettes now or you’ll regret it.” Senta looked helplessly at her fellow inmates who were suddenly interested in their food.

“Anyone here have cigarettes?” she asked those nearest her. All of a sudden, the whole table was full of non-smokers. Kayla’s nostrils flared and her eyes burned a hole in her.

“You get me some cigarettes or I’ll break your pretty little neck.”

Senta got up and looked around. Who had cigarettes on them? That new girl, the one they’d brought in yesterday. New ones always had cigarettes. She walked to a couple of tables over.

“Hey you!” Senta cried harshly. With eyes full of fear, the girl looked up. “Give me your cigarettes.” The girl started to say something and Senta took a threatening step closer. “Now!” The girl shook her head.

“I…I don’t smoke.” Great. Five hundred women and she picked the only one with clean lungs.

Senta looked desperately over to the next table. She picked out Tonia, a weak, timid woman. Tonia would give her a cigarette, or she’d be sorry.

“Hey, Tonia!” Senta felt a hand on her shoulder. She froze.

“Take mine.” Senta turned to face Anna, a woman about fifty five years old. She was bird-thin and had iron-grey hair. Her gray eyes, however, always looked soft and friendly. Senta grabbed the four cigarettes that were in Anna’s hand.

“That all you got?” 

Anna nodded. “If I had more, you could have them.” Senta gave Anna a curt nod and headed back over to Kayla. Kayla took the cigarettes with a sneer.

“These aren’t my normal brand,” said Kayla. Senta did a mental somersault. She was dealing with a violent, crazy lady. Before she could reply, Kayla turned on her heels and headed for the weight room. Senta sat back down at the table. Suddenly she wasn’t hungry.

Two days later, Senta was on mop detail in the prison library. She saw Anna working the counter, checking a book out to another inmate. The woman was a pleasant sort. Senta didn’t really know her. As she squeezed the mop out, Anna called over to her.

“Do you need any more ammonia?” Senta shook her head and continued mopping. After a few moments, Anna spoke to her again. “You’re lucky to have mop duty today.”

“Yeah? How’s that?” 

Anna gave her a broad smile. “Someone stopped up the toilets last night. Cleaning out those toilets wouldn’t be fun today. Phew!”

 Senta laughed. “I suppose you had something to do with that?”

“No ma’am,” said Anna. “A couple of girls from D Block stuffed ‘em up as a protest for the prison conditions.”

“Oh, I’m sure that’ll change things,” Senta muttered sarcastically. 

Anna flipped through some cards and re-organized them. “A church in Brentwood sent us some books. I can’t wait to get my hands on that Billy Graham biography.”

 Senta spoke as she mopped. “What’s so great about that book?”

“He inspires me…makes me feel good.”

“How can you be inspired in this place?”

“I don’t know. This is a good place to be inspired, I guess.”

 Senta dunked the mop into the dirty water, then squeezed it out. “You’ve been here too long.  It’s made you crazy.”

“Since 1956,” was Anna’s reply.

“What did you do, knock over a bank?”

“Something like that.”

“I don’t know how you’ve survived this hole. I feel like I’ve been here all my life.” 

Anna put the card file up. “Once I accepted Jesus as my savior, it’s been a lot easier.” 

Senta put a hand on her hip and scowled at the woman. “What’s with you holy rollers? Jesus always seems to be the answer. Look at you.  Look at where you are. You’re in prison honey. What can Jesus do for you in here?”

 Anna looked Senta in the eye. Her gray eyes sparkled. “I have peace. I don’t fear the future. In fact, I look forward to being immortal.” 

Senta shook her head. “You’re a religious nut.”

Anna walked around the counter and took the mop from Senta. “Let me.”

 Senta gestured to the grey, institutional floor. “Knock yourself out.” 

As Anna mopped, she spoke softly, reverently. “I hated with all my heart. No one could help me.”  Anna looked up at her. “I wasn’t anything like you Senta. I was you.”

“You don’t even know me,” sniffed Senta. 

Anna continued mopping. “I was a lot harder case than you are sweetie. You want to know evil? You’d find my picture in the dictionary right by that word.”

Senta sat down at the table and took out some gum. She propped her feet up in a chair and popped a piece of Juicy Fruit in her mouth.

“Okay, you were a bad kitty cat, so what?” 

Anna’s voice was patient, kind. “I was given a Bible by the prison chaplain. One night, out of pure boredom, I started to read it. I read the book of Matthew. It told a wonderful story about how Jesus came to this world and taught goodness. And the part that always grabbed me was how he treated sinners.” 

Senta gave her a mean smile. “I’ll bet He gave them what for.” 

Anna shook her head. “No. That’s just it. He was kind to sinners. He opened His heart up to them.”

“Then He was a big sucker.”

“No Senta. He had such understanding, they were drawn to him.” Senta silently chewed on her gum. Anna continued. “You think cocaine’s great? I’ll tell you what’s great. I read the book of Matthew, and I wanted more. I read the other gospels, then the books written by Paul.”

At the mention of Paul, Senta’s mind instantly went to her friend of the same name.

“Paul was even worse than we were, Senta. He persecuted Christians. He was full of hate and sin. He crusaded against Christians, he held the coats of those who stoned Stephen, a servant of Christ. But Jesus changed his heart like He changed mine.”

“Paul,” Senta said thoughtfully.

“And God forgave me of my sins, Senta.” 

Senta stared at this frail woman who held the mop. “God forgave you? Well that’s great. That’s really great. Are you saying He can forgive me?”

“Of course. You just need to acknowledge Him as Lord.”

Senta felt overwhelming sadness for this woman. She was delusional. “Let me tell you something, Anna. You’re a nice lady, but your God won’t forgive me.”

“He doesn’t care about your past.”

“My past? What do you know about my past? What does He know? I was a prostitute in Vegas. During that time, I took drugs, I sold drugs, I shot drugs, inhaled them, swallowed them and I can’t begin to tell you about the other rotten things I did.” Senta let that sink in, then continued. “I’ve cheated, lied and stole money, jewelry, anything I could get my hands on.”

“God doesn’t care about any of that, Senta. You just have to confess Jesus as your savior. God will forgive you if you are truly a believer.” 

Senta tried to stifle a laugh. It came out as a snort. “Try this for size. I got pregnant. The precautions I took didn’t work. When I found out, I immediately did something. I got an abortion.” She watched Anna’s face, waiting to see shock and disgust, but Anna remained passive, sympathetic. Senta continued. “Does God forgive abortion? From what I hear, He doesn’t.”

Anna walked over to the counter and pulled out a small, tattered purse. She fished around and pulled out a picture.

“Here,” said Anna. She showed Senta the picture of a little three-year-old girl. It was black and white with wavy edges around it. The little girl was chubby and wore a ribbon in her hair. She smiled at the camera, showing deep, friendly dimples. “That was Susan. Cheerful, sweet Susan. She was deaf. Couldn’t hear a thing. When I had her, and found out she couldn’t hear, I blamed God. But I took it out on her.” Anna let Senta hold the picture of Susan. Then she turned away. “I took it out on her and I killed my little girl.”