Prodigal Son
Please see the disclaimer on the Synopsis page.
Prisoner 4583927 slumped down on his cot, pain lancing through his midsection. It was a pain that should not be there, and yet the grimace on his face showed that the pain was a reality that could not be ignored.
"Bed check," announced the guard as he and his companion walked the halls. "Prisoner 4489298."
"Here."
"Prisoner 4492933"
"Here."
"Prisoner 2305737"
No answer came.
"Prisoner 2305737, answer."
"Here," came a gruff voice behind the barred door of the cell.
As each prisoner's number was called out, a disembodied voice answered, until the next number was called.
"4583927," Silence filled the void as no answer came. "4583927, answer," the guard called again. Still no answer came. "Perkins, check the cell."
A uniformed officer pulled out his night stick and walked over to the prisoner's cell, preparing to defend himself if there was trouble. Perkins glanced inside.
"Call the Doc,"
A few minutes later, the cell door was being opened and a figure in a white lab coat flanked by two officers entered. Another few minutes went by and the doctor emerged.
"He's not faking it, if that's what you're going to ask. He's in a great deal of pain. I'm going to need to get him to the infirmary."
An hour went by and the Warden came down to discuss the prisoner's condition. "Where's Doctor Greene?"
"He had an unexpected emergency. He asked me to fill in." Before the Warden could ask his name, the new doctor stated, "The prisoner is in a great deal of pain for no apparent reason. I can't find anything wrong with him."
"What do you mean you can't find anything wrong with him."
The doctor waved the Warden to the door and stood where the prisoner could be watched. "That's just it. He says he's in a lot of pain, but I can't find a damn thing wrong with him."
"Well run some tests."
"There's a problem. I don't have the equipment here to be able to do that. All I can do is take blood samples and x-rays. None of which would be conclusive."
As the Warden and the doctor talked, they could hear the prisoner moaning in the background. A couple of times the prisoner would let loose with a blood curdling scream.
"It hurts, man! Please stop it."
The Warden glanced over to where the prisoner lay and saw that the man was turning from side to side. Sweat appeared on the prisoner's forehead and his face was scrunched up, teeth gritting against what seemed like excruciating circumstances. "How did this happen?"
"I don't know. There just isn't any medical reason that I can find."
"Are you sure he's not faking this."
"Believe me Warden, he is in a lot of pain."
"Could he be suffering from some withdrawal symptoms."
"That was the first thing that I checked. Prisoner 4583927 is not an addict. His medical history showed no evidence of being involved with drugs of any kind. There are no needle marks and his cell was searched for contraband. Not even half an aspirin was found in that cell. If I can't find out what's wrong with him, I'm not going to be able to treat him. He needs to go to a hospital with better facilities."
"Out of the question. This man is dangerous."
"Warden, this man needs medical attention that I can't provide."
As if on cue, the prisoner moaned again, a deep raging cry that ran shivers up both men's spines.
"All right. But he's got to be under guard at all times. I'll notify Cleveland Medical Center. They have at least a floor for prisoners. You watch your back Doc."
The Warden left the doctor to his patient. He never saw the look between the two men.
Continues with Part 2
Alisa Joaquin Copyright@2006.
This story cannot be reprinted or sold in any other form without strict permission from
the author. It is being distributed here solely for your enjoyment.
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