Cell 13
These bars won't hold me, yu'll see. Jimmy Duncan comes an' goes as he pleases. An' Jimmy Duncan is always ready to rock and roll. Go ahead an' walk down the catwalk looking down through the grates, up there all high and mighty. Why don't ya come down here and visit with old Jimmy Duncan, huh screw?
Nah, course ya won't. Ya won't because yer yella'. Ya were probly yella' all through school. Yer the guy I took the lunch from, the momma's boy who cried when I smacked ya in the mouth, then stood over ya and spit in yer face. Well go ahead and walk up there, momma's boy, but if ya come down here ya better bring that stick ya been bangin' on the bars, cause Jimmy Duncan's got a saprise for ya.
They're all convinced that I'll be dyin' tamarra, but I got a secret. Lean closer an' I'll tell ya. Don't be afraid, Jimmy Duncan wouldn't hurt ya, he wouldn't hurt a fly. Ya see I'm already dead. Don't be like that. Don't crawl off in yer corner, an' run away from me. I'm here to tell ya what its like on the other side.
My time came bout forty year ago. I kilt me tirteen chillin', and they hung me in that barn where they'll be takin' ya tamarra. That's why my head hangs so funny over to the side like. When ya drop, yer neck makes a kinda crackin' noise and ya start floppin' all around like a chicken er sumthin'. But don't worry, it only lasts bout ten minutes er so. They think yer already dead but yer not.
They put this black hood over yer head, so they don't hafta look at yer face when yer tongue sticks outta yer mouth an' ya bite it off. That's no problem though, cause yer tongue grows back after yer dead. Then ya get to walk around like Jimmy Duncan here, and talk ta cons who're jest about to die. Sometimes yer tongue kinda sticks out when yer not talkin' but ya git used to it.
Whatcha shaking fer? You kilt them chillin' didn't ya? Well alright then, be a man. Ya aint gonna be wettin' yer pants like that last feller are ya? Ok then, that's better. I guess I should tell ya about what happens after yer dead. They take yer body and put it in a box and bury it out at Potter's field. The only people to visit ya out there jest spit er piss on yer grave, so unless ya wanna see a lot a that, I'd stay away from the graveyard.
Oh another thang, all those chillin' ya kilt, they foller ya around all the time. Jimmy Duncan got tirteen follering him. It kinda takes the fun outta being dead. Yu'll be gitting yers purty soon. It takes a little gitting used to. They don't talk to ya, they jest talk to each other sometimes so ya cain't hear. They git all huddled up and look over at ya, but usually all they do is stare.
Why don't ya try an' go ta sleep? Mornin'll be here afore ya know it, an' then it'll be time to go to the barn. Me, I'm jest gonna sit here with ya fer a spell an' tell ya more about what it's like to be dead. I forgot to tell ya that yer neck never stops hurtin'.
What's that? I should leave? No, I think ya need me aroun' to cheer ya up. Yer lookin' a mite peak-ed. What? Oh this? That's jest the rope they hanged me with. I haven't been able ta git it off a my neck all this time. Do ya think ya could help me? No? Well alright then, I guess I'll jest see ya in the mornin'. Course you'll see me ever time ya close yer eyes. Oh look, yer chillin' got here early! Come on in chillin' Jimmy Duncan was jest leavin'.
*
Correctional officers Bill James and George Matthews looked down through the grate at the serial killer who was due to be hanged in the morning. There was something about cell 13 that drove convicts to act strangely. Not that facing death was an experience that was easy to endure, but if that piece of human garbage expected sympathy from them he was going to be disappointed. Death row was a place where sympathy checked its hat at the front door.
But still, there was something different about cell 13. Maybe it was that the warden saved it for the worst of criminals; serial killers who preyed on kids. Or maybe it was the sounds they heard sometimes late at night coming from down below in the dark. Whatever it was, the deserving felons who ended up occupying that enclosed space seemed edgier, and more stressed than any of the other condemned.
Even now they could hear the killer in cell 13 gibbering away like a raving lunatic.
"Don't feel sorry for him, George," Bill said to the rookie. "For some folks, even losing their life isn't enough of a punishment for what they've done. In my opinion he's getting off easy."