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Someone yelled out, “Amen,” And
then another.
The preacher preached the goodness of the Lord and how your
faith would lead you down the path of love for your family and self and a good
life, and in the afterworld, you would be united with the Lord.
The church
congregation sang.
Martin Jr. bowed his head so no one would see his pain.
Even if Sunday was the holy day for G,d, Martin Jr., named after his father,
hated it the worst day of all. He couldn’t understand also why praying had
to be done with so many people and so much shouting. He thought that if it was
to mean something, it should be done quiet like and from the heart, but no
amount of praying could undone what was already done.
After the goodbyes
were said, the Williams gassed up their car before hitting I-35 north to
Highway 7 which turned into 31A east to McAlester.
The first hour of the
drive was hard and their car became hot inside. The rolling hills and heat were
slowly replaced by a cooler breeze and a more mountainous terrain. Once they
had gotten off of the interstate, the Williams’s ’78 Silver/ Brown
Buick went slower, working harder to hug the road as it began to curve and move
up and down through the countryside. Martin Jr. sat in the front seat with the
windows down, his face leaning on his hand almost out the window, the cooler
air against his face.
Martin Jr. imagined himself on a boat in a large sea.
He had never seen the ocean before, or even a really large lake, and he
imagined the wind on his face now like the wind he would feel from a boat,
traveling away. He had no idea where he would go, but now the car rumbled to
Kiamichi Country in southeast Oklahoma, where the mountainous terrain and pine
needled forests spread across the region, where species of bird and deer
thrived and where tourists traveled from the region to come and relax with
their families and enjoy the ancient logging forests and rivers. But this was
not where he wanted to be. He imagined their happy faces and could only imagine
himself smiling when his face pointed into the wind, his boat heading out
somewhere unknown.
After a short time with the wind and the rumbling of the
Buick over the road, Martin Jr. fell asleep and dreamed.
Martin Williams
Sr. had mixed feelings about the praying going on around him. It was subdued,
almost quiet, except for a few loud converts near the front. Father Anthony
Vlosopolous was the visiting preacher to the Oklahoma State Penitentiary, G and
I units. It was the most stressful day of the week for Martin Williams because
it was the one of the times during the week that a lot of the convicts got
together. Guard staffing was increased. There was a general sense, if not an
underlying sense, of alert, that something could happen at any time. Yet, the
same feeling permeated every moment anyways.