Relaxing with these words, the reverend smiled, "And I'm sure nothing that happens here escapes your attention for long, Warden; that's why I wanted to get your feedback on my idea. I'm still curious, though, because you really haven't told me what you think about my proposal.

"Yes, they told me. That's what made me think of my grandfather's black dog. The parallel between the stories told and the way the dog acted was what made me think of this idea."

"I don't remember you mentioning that the dog threw feces at your grandfather."

"No, of course not. But the attitude, the behavior pattern, the spirit, if you will, of those men seems to be the same. That's my point, I believe my grandfather's story has given me insight, insight that will allow me to help those men up there. I feel called to do so."

"Well, Reverend, I don't claim to know anything about calling. All I can say is you have the privilege to visit those men. I wish you the best of luck in your ministry. I honestly do."

"Thank you, Warden. I will try to keep you posted on my progress."

"That won't be necessary. My staff is always in a position to monitor the third floor. I will receive daily reports on your progress."

Rising and extending his hand, the Reverend said, "Yes, well, thank you for your time. But most of all, Warden, I thank you for the opportunity. I trust something good will come cut of this, something that will assist you in what you are trying to do here."

"Anytime", Reverend, glad to be able to help."

THE MEETING

"If you will, sir, just empty your pockets on this tray and turn around so I can run this wand over you."

"How long have you worked here, Officer?"

"Eighteen years, Reverend."

"I mean on this floor. How long have you worked on this floor?"

"Only about six years--six years next month. I came to this floor in March, 78."

"I expect you've seen a lot since you've been here."

"Yessir, seen a lot."

"And these men. What do you--well, I mean--what can you tell me about them?"

"Just put that stuff back in your pockets, all except the keys; I'll keep the keys out here and give them to you when you come out."

"Okay. Now about these men; can you tell me anything that might help me in establishing a relationship with them?"

"A man learns a few things in eighteen years, Reverend, but to tell the truth, I can't help you with that. My job is to make sure they stay put. Beyond that I don't know what to tell you."

"Okay, right. So you don't speak to them much?"

"I see. Well, is there anything you can suggest I do?"

"Nossir, I just try to keep things as calm as possible."

"Yes, well, I'll try to do the same."

"When the door slides back, you go on through. I'll be out here if you need anything."

"Yes, well then, thank you, thank you very much."

"Sure nuff, Reverend."

The reverend took a tentative step through the steel-barred doorway that slid open before him. He looked down the long, immaculately clean hallway, took a deep breath, and started walking. He stopped at the first occupied cell, "Uh, excuse me, could I talk to you a minute."

"Git out of he-re you mother fucker! Git outta my face! Now!"

Suddenly the reverend heard loud shouts in rapid succession from voices hidden in cells further down the hallway, "Shut up down there! Yeah, shut the fuck up! How many times I got to tell you I'm gonna cut your head off before you believe me? Followed by, "Shut up, you sorry sawed off asshole," from further down the hall were the only intelligible comments the reverend could grasp out of the plethora of sounds reverberating through the concrete and tiled hallway. There was a short lull.

"Both of you shut up or I'll kill you both. I'm trying to beat my meat and you making me lose my hardon.

The reverend felt his muscles tighten and his heart begin to pound. He spoke to the man in the cage, "I seemed to have said the wrong thing."

"Well why don't you get ottta here then?"

"I came here for a reason."

"We don't let nobody come here."

"You seem to be calmer than the others."

"I don't know who you are or why you're here but I tell you for your own good, you best get the fuck out."

"I have a reason for being here."

"I don't care what your reason is. If you don't want to be, covered with shit, you better make your break right now."

"The reason I'm here is that I care what happens to you."

"A preacher, right?"

"That's correct."

The man in the cell raised his voice loud enough to be heard the length of the corridor, "He's a Preacher."

"Well fuck him and the horse he rode in on!"

"And his mama too," another voice added in humorously cruel harmony.

The man in the cell turned his head indicating the voices echoing down the hall, "The warden ain't gonna like you stirring us up. We ain't gave nobody no trouble in a week. You fixing to change all that."

"But I must talk to you. I have something important to tell you."

Again raising his voice, the man in the cell said, "He don't want to cooperate."

"Hey preacher man, look here!"

As the reverend turned to respond to the voice he felt something hit his suit.

"See! I told you you'd git shit on. You want some more?"

"But I must talk to you."

Again the man raised his voice, "He wants some more. He likes that shit."

The guard's voice called out from the end of the hallway, "Reverend, through here!"

After retreating rapidly back through the steel-barred door, the reverend stood shaking before the guard, "Is there anywhere I can wash up?"

"The guard's bathroom is at the end of the hall. There's no way that'll come out of your suit, though, it seems to stick best to wool."

"Yes, well, uh, I really should have stayed. Next time just leave me in there. Please don't call for me to come out."

"Excuse me for grinning, Reverend. I know it's not funny. It's just my way of releasing tension."

"Do they do this often?"

"Just when they get riled up."

"When is that?"

"Anytime they want to."

"I see. Well what would you suggest?"

"I guess you could pray for them."

"No, I mean about the clothes. Which is the easiest to clean?"

"Well, Reverend, if you really plan to come back here, I'd suggest you wear a rubber suit."

"But your clothes are clean. How do you manage it?"

"I only go in when I have food for them or when I have a water hose to keep them back, otherwise I wear coveralls with a riot helmet and mask."

"Food! Of course. Why didn't I remember that7 He fed him before he did anything else."

"Beg your pardon?"

"Nothing, just thinking about a story my grandfather told me."

"Listen, Reverend, I know you mean well, but these people don't want help. All they want is to be left alone. As long as we do that, they're not so bad. You asked me for advice earlier and I didn't say anything. Fact is the only good advice I can give you is to stay away from those people. Some people are best just left alone."

"I'm afraid I can't take that advice, Officer. I'll be back tomorrow at this time. But I assure you, if this keeps up, maybe I will find me a rubber suit somewhere."