The Green Room
I
They called it a Green Room, but Gerald knew a holding cell when he saw one. The walls were painted in mucus green, but they were built out of large cinder blocks, and there were no windows. A single fluorescent bulb glowed from the ceiling. A small square vent near the floor pumped in cool air. He considered the vent, but it only six inches square. He wouldn't be able to squeeze his head in there, much less his entire body.
All he could do was wait. He shifted himself on the narrow bench for better comfort. He thought about taking a nap, but his brain wouldn't shut down. His last meal sat like a lead weight in his stomach. Roast chicken, scalloped potatoes, and buttered peas. At least they knew how to cook here. The peas were fresh and delicious. The chicken was moist and tender. He wondered if there was roast chicken in Heaven. He then considered if he was going to Heaven.
Gerald stopped that thought. It wasn't quite the end. He still had a chance. That was the reason that he was here. The odds were still against him, but it was better than having your demise determined by a group of random strangers. 'Jury of your peers' was complete bullshit, he thought. There was no question of his guilt. He killed that guy in the bar. He didn't plan on killing anyone that night. He was just out celebrating the victory of his favorite football team for winning the Super Bowl. It was a crime of passion, that was what the press called it. That didn't matter. What mattered was that if he had done this just twenty years ago, his options were either filing appeals while sitting on death row, or spending life in prison, where he would have to avoid getting gang-raped in the shower, and not breathing free air until he was an old, used-up con.
The game didn't resolve any arguments between the pro-death penalty and the cruel-and-unusual punishment groups, but it did give a condemned man some choice in his fate, and Gerald took it. He agreed to play. He signed all the release waivers, affidavits, and other paperwork that the system wanted, and he now waited for his turn to play the game that millions of his fellow citizens watched across the country. God bless the U.S.A.
II
The steel door that led into the Green Room opened, and two beefy guards walked in. Gerald was instructed to stand up, face the wall, and place his hands behind his head. He complied and was patted down for any weapons. His hands and ankles were shackled, and when they were satisfied that he was no longer a threat, they walked him out of the room, and down a long corridor. It was dark, but Gerald could hear the excited rumble of hundreds of people from the thin stage wall on his left. People reserved their seats months in advance for the big show, and each show was sold out every time.
The guards stopped him as they approached a heavy curtain, but he could hear the amplified voice of the host. The show had begun.
"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen! I'm Justice Nathan Powell from the Supreme Court of Texas, and it's my great pleasure to host America's most popular reality show...HANGMAN!"
The audience clapped and screamed with approval. Gerald listened while Justice Powell continued with his opening speech.
"That's right! This is the show that let's condemned criminals test their skills to see if they get to live, or let justice prevail! All proceeds go to fund the state's prison system, so the taxpayers don't have to foot the bill!"
The crowd roared at this announcement, and Gerald couldn't blame them. He put his own signature on the petition that allowed this game to be created. Who knew that he would wind up here?
Justice Powell said,"Bob, please introduce tonight's guest!"
A deep voice boomed through the loudspeakers. "Your Honor, tonight's guest is Gerald Smith. Mr. Smith is thirty-two and was working as a drywall contractor when he got into a heated debate with Bill Liddell at a local Hooters. Both men were legally intoxicated, but things turned deadly when Mr. Smith slammed Mr. Liddell's head into the bar with enough force to cause Mr. Liddell's death. Mr. Smith was tried and convicted of first-degree murder, and here he is, ready to risk it all.."
The heavy curtains separated, and the guards pushed him through.
"Ladies and gentlemen, Gerald Smith!"
III
Gerald was blinded by the harsh stage lights, and when his vision cleared, he faced a huge crowd of people that wanted him to lose. They booed and ranted curses at him. Some held their fists above their heads and mimicked being choked in the noose. Thank God for the plexiglass shield that blocked the audience from the stage.
The gallows was on his right. It was a raised platform with an overhanging steel beam. The hangman's noose dangled from the beam and waited to be wrapped around his neck.
The guards led him up the stairs to the platform and positioned him over the trap door.
The noose was wrapped around his neck, and Gerald could feel the nylon threads scratch his skin. The heavy knot was placed behind his right shoulder blade, so his neck could snap if he lost. A wireless mic was snapped to his collar, and with that done, both guards stepped off the platform. Gerald was able to look down at Justice Powell, who stood beside a massive screen that showed a blanked out message:
__ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __
Justice Powell said,"Now Gerald, let me explain the rules. As you can see, there is a hidden message on the screen, and the message refers to a person. You have to choose the correct letters to solve the puzzle. You have thirty seconds to choose each letter. If you choose incorrectly, you lose a point. You can lose up to five points, as seen here."
The message was replaced by a stick picture of a man being hung. Gerald understood the concept. If he chose a wrong letter, or if he took long, one leg would disappear, then another, then the arms, and the torso, and...
The Judge finished with,"If you lose all six points, then..."
"YOU HANG!" the crowd yelled.
Justice Powell smiled at the audience, then looked back up at Gerald. "That's the bad news. However, for every letter you get right, you win a hundred dollars. Vowels are worth double, and if you want to solve the puzzle, just yell 'Go for Broke', and give the answer. If you win, you'll be given a full pardon, a new set of ID, and a relocation to any city of your choice in the U.S.A. But if you try to solve the puzzle and fail, then what happens?" Justice Powell looked at the audience.
The crowd yelled,"YOU HANG!"
Justice Powell asked,"So, Mr. Smith. Are you ready to play?"
"Yes," was all Gerald could say.
"OK! Bob, please give us thirty seconds on the clock...now!"
A clock face appeared on the upper right corner of the screen and started counting. Gerald concentrated on the blanks. A person. There were too many words for a regular name. Maybe it was a celebrity.
He looked at the clock. Shit, he only had fifteen seconds left. In desperation, he yelled,"M!"
Justice Powell looked at his answer card. "Yes! There are two M's. That's two hundred dollars!"
The letters appeared on the screen. The puzzle now read:
__ __ __ __M__ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ M__ __
The clock was reset to thirty seconds and started again.
Gerald stared at the puzzle. The rope had started an itch on his neck, and he knew it would do more than itch if he lost.
"W!"
The Judge said,"Sorry, there is no W. That's one point gone."
The right leg appeared on the hanging stick figure. The clock reset itself and started over.
"O!"
"Sorry, no O's. That's another point!"
Both legs appeared on the screen, and Gerald had to stop his own legs from buckling as he studied the puzzle. Time to try another vowel.
"A!"
The Judge yelled,"Outstanding! There are three A's. Double points mean that you now have eight hundred dollars!"
The puzzle now read:
__ __ __ AMA__ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ MA__
This gave Gerald more confidence as the clock started over. He decided to use another vowel.
"E!"
"Excellent! There are two E's. You are now up to twelve-hundred dollars! Remember, you can solve the puzzle at any time!"
The clock started ticking again. Gerald could feel sweat running down his face. A drop went into his eye, but his hands were chained to his waist. His vision blurred. This wasn't fair!
A buzzer sounded, and the Judge said,"Sorry, Mr. Smith. Time's up. You have now lost three points."
The torso lit up on the stick-figure hangman, and the crowd cheered.
The clock started again. He was getting lucky with vowels.
"I!"
"Correct! There are two I's. You now have sixteen hundred dollars!"
The new letter was added:
__ __ __ AMA__ I __ __ __ __ I __ __ __ MA__
Gerald tried to keep his focus. He was so close now. If he could solve it, he would win his life, his freedom, and sixteen-hundred dollars.
"U!"
"Sorry, there are no U's. That's four points lost now. Keep trying!"
Lord have mercy, he only had one point left. His heart was thumping hard in his chest. He stared at the puzzle. The last word was MAN, so it wasn't a name of a person. A title?
The buzzer sounded again, making him jump. He could feel the trapdoor shift under his weight.
Justice Powell said,"Sorry, Gerald. Time's up again. You have no more points left. You can Go for Broke at any time."
The left arm lit up, and the clock started again. This could be the last thirty seconds of his life. His mind wanted to go into Panic Mode. He didn't want to die. He was so sorry that he killed that guy. It was amazing how fragile life is. Anyone could...
The rest of the puzzle clicked in his mind, and he knew he had the correct answer.
He screamed,"Go for broke!"
The crowd went silent. Gerald saw the clock was stopped at twenty -six seconds. He was just four seconds away from death.
The Judge said,"May we have the answer please?"
Gerald screamed,"The Amazing Spider-Man!"
The Judge looked at his card. "Gerald Smith...that is CORRECT!"
The rest of the letters appeared on the screen, and the audience howled with disappointment. Justice Powell yelled his judgment to grant Gerald Smith a full pardon, and have a check written for the prize money...
But Gerald didn't hear any of this. Black spots appeared before his eyes and started to grow. He felt his knees give out. His last thought was this is what fainting feels like, as the rope tightened, and everything went dark.
IV
The show was over, and Justice Powell knew that he would receive a shitload of calls, emails, and hate-texts on this one. There were press conferences that had to be scheduled, meetings to attend, and that meant no evening of relaxation. No steak for dinner, and he would have to cancel the appointment with his masseuse.
He marched into his office and ordered everyone out. His secretary informed him that the Attorney General was on line one. Fine, he would deal with the big boys now, and everything else later.
He sat behind his oak-paneled desk and picked up the handset. The line connected, and he dived right in. "Hey, Jimmy! How's life in Austin? Did you catch today's show? What? Hey-C'mon, Jimmy. How were we to know he would faint on the stage? Yes, we tried to save him. I was told that when Mr. Smith fainted, the weight of his body was enough to crush his windpipe. I know some will love it, and some will hate it. How's that any different than our past shows? C'mon, not that old 'cruel and usual' argument. We don't force convicts to play. We still have hundreds of prisoners just waiting to get on that stage. Look, don't worry about anything. I'll take care of the press."
He saw his secretary open the door. He said,"Hang on, Jimmy. Give me a minute."
He pressed the receiver against his chest.
His secretary said,"Just FYI, it looks like this is going to be our biggest show ever. We've broken our own rating record from previous shows. Viewers are already fighting over if it was 'tragic irony' or 'poetic justice'."
He waved her out and lifted the receiver back up. "Sorry about that, Jim. I just got some good news. We can go with the 'poetic justice' angle. That's right. I mean, the man was sentenced to be executed, right?"
The judge continued, and he knew that he could sell this to even the bleeding-hearts that hated the show. Maybe he could get that steak after all.