The Ghost of Alcatraz

By Ricardo Lebrija

In 1950s New York City, Jake Strummer lives an average life until one day a twist of faith changes everything and sends Jake on a downward spiral. He finds himself in the middle of one of the most gruesome crime scenes ever recorded. He gets arrested, charged with the crime, trialed, and convicted of twenty-two murders, murders he has no recollection of ever having committed.

He is sentenced to life in solitary isolation to be carried out at a maximum-security prison in the middle of the San Francisco Bay, on the island of Alcatraz.

There he plunges into oblivion, where he suffers a gruesome transformation fueled by loneliness, depression, darkness, and despair into this atrocity other inmates call the ghost of Alcatraz.

From the gates of hell, Jake Strummer ascends to redemption aided by an unlikely friend. He finds love, happiness, and peace, and after a race against time, he commits the ultimate sacrifice.

The Ghost of Alcatraz is a tale of deliverance. The penance of the soul to define what's human is proof that happiness is within all of us even in the worst of circumstances.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 30, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524508517

Ricardo Lebrija

Born in Mexico City, Mexico in 1966 and nourished in the bosom of a big loving family, Ricardo Lebrija grew up to become a chemical and sound engineer, prompting a 25-year career in radio and television producing, directing, writing, and performing. As an avid traveller and connoisseur of human relations, Ricardo has had the privilege of discovering the world first-hand, knocking elbows with countless cultures and experiencing the joy of being in places imagined only in dreams. He lives in Los Angeles, California, where he still searches for that elusive love, that glimpse of heaven, that spark that fills your heart with the fire that makes life worth living.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Fall From Grace

The day that I died, was the longest day of my life. It seamed that time negated to stop when overlooking the end. Like longing to prolong this anguish of knowing that the silence will be profound, that the light will dim in gloom and that the sound of my voice will no longer resonate. Wanting to give room to the recount of the traces that form my memory, moments that are taken in, like a celestial mantle flooded by bright stars reflecting each one of the smiles that made my happiness.

The day that I died, I realized that everything I possessed was only there to feed what I loved, that the sum of the damages is only a to do list that will never be done.

The day that I died, I wasn’t alone, with me till the end were all the moments that made me laugh, all the caresses that made me feel and all the I love you’s that now give me fear well.

That was the very end, but my story begins many years back in another life, one just like the one you know, the one you live. Trapped in this everyday mayhem that defines our destiny. I was a single, underpaid insurance claim agent with an average life. Well if you can call it an average life living in a city like New York, wake up, go to work, spent the day lying and cheating people that came to me for help, for comfort, and getting paid for it.

It have been years since I’ve known what it is to have a relationship, to enjoy the seriousness of being true and the honesty of opening up your heart to somebody. Not that I didn’t wanted to, it just seemed I didn’t have time to actually open my heart and nobody that cared for it. Life went by from one scotch to the next, from one blackout to the next and the few little flashes of fortune that lie in between. I probably drank to much, but it was the only way of drowning this numbness I felt.

I sometimes woke up next to a strange woman, in a strange place and the memories were absent. It felt like I was living in sequence, a few vignettes played out in motion with commercials and all. I didn’t have a purpose, just a method of getting thru the days, the weeks, the months, the years. Just living life thru the glass window next to my cubicle drenched with faded light, which makes everything pale. Don’t get me wrong I was a party animal, had lots of friends I exchanged and returned every night like that gift you don’t even open from a friend you don’t even know the last name to. You know the one!

I don’t know if it is a curse or just sarcasm, but humans, we tend to dive into this habit of life. We neglect those things that happen around us. The miracle it is to frisk thru a second of existence, to watch the sunrise or feel the breeze caressing your face, the warmth of a body entangled with yours.

My story begins on February 17th, a Thursday. The beginning of the weekend slump and my classic night at O’Hara’s, this Irish pub on third and Broadway. That particular night the Chelsea was playing, so the crowd was eager to party.

I somehow made my way to the entrance and saw Collin standing at the door. As soon as I got close Collin asked.

How are you mate? Any new stories to tell me this week?

Collin is the type of guy you don’t want as a friend, but even less as an enemy. So I always indulge his sense of curiosity about my precarious life. He seems to envy the fact that I have some luck with the ladies. Or could it be that his six foot three, three hundred pound body and his cut out face that looks like the product of a bad experiment are not precisely what the ladies are looking for to wake up to the next morning?

I took a moment to think about it and replied.

Hey Collin, not a lot to tell this week. I’ve been caught up in the office with this incredibly complicated group of claims from the Priscilla fires downtown.

Collin seemed disappointed, he loved to here about the ladies, but at the same time he was a little bit confused.

The Priscilla fires? Is it a kind of apothecary or something like that? he asked.

I laughed at his ignorance but it was understandable, you wouldn’t expect a man like Collin to know about those things so I answered.

No man, Priscilla Securities is one of the biggest investments group in the city. Their offices burned down last week, mysteriously!! I get to examine the case and decide if they deserve a claim, if we need to pay the damages.

Collin’s face turned into this torrid expression of disapproval.

That sounds boring Jake, I thought you would have some new story to tell me about your conquests he stated.

I could only oblige his curiosity and said:

Not this week Collin, I promise to keep you up to date next week.

Collin laughed, which I am not sure it’s a good or a bad thing. He only has two teeth and I have always been intrigued by the tone of gray matter that they have.

I make it thru the door and go into the Bar. The place is packed, as always, I see my friends at the end of the bar and start making my way to meet them when I get cut off by this amazing blonde with one of the most incredible bodies I have ever seen.

So Jake, I’ve been waiting for your phone call. I’m getting restless she said.

My mind is blank trying to search my limited resources for her name, or a recollection of her at all. A name comes out of my mouth and a couple of seconds of silence from her make me think It’s not the right one.

Heather?

She looked at me as if she was trying to decipher if I was just guessing and said.

At least you remembered that. Do you remember this?

She grabs my balls and squeezes so hard that my whole linage screams in agony. I could only muster enough strength to ask in my defense.

Ahhhh what are you doing?

She doesn’t let go while she calmly says.

Well you seem to like me sucking on them the other night, so I thought I might say hi.

She lets go and I feel my life rush back to me from the great beyond. I take a moment to catch my breath before realizing I am half way on the ground already. So I pick myself up and try to get some composure. While my whole body is recouping from such a blow, my mind comes up with.

I’ve had a rough week.

She looks at me with a sense of disapproval while she says.

It’s been almost a month!

My brain is rushing trying to get over the fact that I am as cocked as can be to come up with a clever answer to get away from this predicament. I am just hoping it’s a clever enough response so that she would leave me alone.

You see? I’ve even lost the sense of time.

She finally seems to be comforted by my answer or she’s already done with her point, her whole intention changes and as she starts walking away she just says.

Very funny Jake. Call me ok? I need some spanking.

The images rush in my head and I think I have a slight recollection of her.

Nah, nothing at all. My friends at the end of the bar are laughing hysterically at my misfortune. So I give them a grin and finally make it to where they are.

Bobby is been my wingman more times that I can remember, so he knows what he is talking about when he says to me.

Well, my friend, that was a full on penalty right there.

They all laugh at me and I have no option but to laugh too.

Apparently the whole bar joins in and now I am the laughing stock of the whole place, I thank Bobby for his wit.

Very funny Bobby. I have no idea who that is.

Bobby seemed surprised when hearing that, he just heard me call her by her name.

Are you kidding me? You called her by her name.

To which I respond as honestly as I could.

That was just damn luck, it’s the most common girl name I know.

Brian steps in, he is probably my oldest friend, which spans for almost a year now, obviously he doesn’t really know me, so that comment caught him by surprise. He can’t understand my apathy.

How can you forget a woman like that? he asks.

When you are in this game for a while you realize that superficial is your best weapon against being hurt. Not getting involved your best policy, so I replied.

Believe me, I am sure there is not a lot to remember.

We start our Thursday night routine and my usual encounter with Mr. Johnny Walker. The night goes into a blur, as it always does and I wake up the next morning in another strange bed in another strange apartment, with another stranger next to me.

I can’t think clearly because of the pulsating headache that over takes my brain. So I just follow the five step program I have done so many times, the one I have perfected down to a tee. Sneak out of bed, gather my clothes, make sure I have my keys and my wallet, get dressed and leave.

I know what you are thinking, this horrible, horrible man. But in my defense, I barely remember half of it. So I am not horrible, just forgetful.

I grab a taxi back to my apartment and jump in the shower like any other day. My mind is just rushing with all this images that blur between the days. I have to have a giant calendar beside my bed just to remind me what day it is. I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve turned into a zombie, but apparently there is no way out of this. I am tainted with a disease that seems to spread like wildfire in me, a progressive terrible disease. I am the victim of a powerful affliction that consumes my soul little by little every day. That is turning me into this blob without feelings, without hope or purpose. Measured by a state of habit that surpasses any will to persist.

I somehow manage to finish getting myself ready and remember that the body also needs some food to get by, so I grab breakfast on the corner of Spring Street and I get to work. And so round goes the wheel. The only good news I’ve had all day is that apparently its Friday, which usually comes after Thursday, and finally tomorrow I will be able to oversleep in someone else’s bed.

That day in particular had a strange stench to it, so pronounced that you wonder all day if it´s actually you, if you forgot a half eaten sandwich inside of your pants or if your transpiration suddenly got drenched with this hideous cheap aftershave smell. Nothing the scent of a scotch can’t fix. So I head after work to this bar at the edge of the city, a place that was suggested by Brian’s fiancee. A very sketchy place, apparently, but hey! I need some adventure in my life, right? So after almost an hour of driving and a few attempts to abandone the mission and return to my comfort zone I finally arrive.

As soon as I see the place I get this strange ¨de ja vu" feeling, I have been in here before at least once. Since I am used to having this absent memories of places I’ve been and things I have done by know I basically just dismiss it and after parking my car around the bend I go in, not after almost being killed on my way in by a couple of motorciclists dressed to kill and riding like bats out of hell, with the costumes for it and all.

Stepping inside a place like this is like going into class your first day of school, your late and your teacher just has to point you out to the whole class and introduce you, making the moment way more embarassing than it has to be. Everyone stares at me while I make my way to the bar, find an empty stool with my name on it and I see the bartender at the other end of the bar.

¨Bartender, can I have a Jack straight up and a beer to go with it?¨

I sit down and I raise my eyes to see the ugliest looking bartender I have ever seen right in front of me, and I have seen a few. Tattooed up to his eye balls, head shaven, no shirt under a leather vest so old the leather has started cracking from use, a set of earrings hang from his ear lobs and nose. He is looking at me the way a predator looks at his prey and at that moment I realize I am not in my element.

He walks to the other end of the bar, pulls out a bottle, he poors the drink in a glass and pushes it along the bar straight at my hand with the presicion of a surgeon, then he craks open a beer bottle with his teeth and repeats the achievement a second time. I put some money on the bar and push it over to him, it doesn´t even get half way. He walks a couple of steps and grabs the bill. I lower my sight to see the drinks in front of me when I hear a deep cut voice like the one I expect to hear at a funeral.

¨Do you want change?¨

I studder for a second and finally, when my brain gets over the shock, I answer.

¨No, keep the change."

I am seriously considering gulping my drinks and heading out the door, I don´t think that this was a good idea. So I do so, first the Jack followed by the beer that seems reduced into one long gulp.

As soon as I am about to get up from the stool I feel a hand grabbing my shoulder and I am thinking ¨This is the end¨ when I hear a sweet voice whisper in my ear.

¨Aren´t you going to buy me a drink?¨ It said.

I turn around to see this gorgeous redhead and my heart stops, I don´t know if it was her red lips or the endless locks of her hair that hypnotized me but suddenly every fear went away and I felt just fine. I know I am supposed to say something but I just stared.

¨May I seat?" she said.

I was mute, taken by her beautiful blue eyes that talked to me and overshadowed everything around her, It was love at first sight.

¨So?¨ she insisted.

I finally reacted.

¨Of course, I am sorry."

I stood up and pulled out the stool next to me and offer it gladdly. I was just stunned looking at her body as she glanced on the stool, every curve was holding my breath as my mind was wondering making up images of our bodies melting together, kissing those luscious lips, entangling my fingers in her hair and being submitted by those never ending legs that seem to grow bolder reaching to the top of that stool.

She was the sexiest thing I have ever seen, my heart started racing like a rabbit, making my whole body yearn her touch, my tongue was entangled and frustrated unable to communicate with my brain that couldn’t stop fantasizing.

Cat ate your tongue? she asked.

I’m sorry, I just, I have never seen anything more beautiful. You took my breath away

Emma laughed and that is all I needed to hear to make sure of my feelings, I was madly in love with this girl.

Slow down Cowboy! We’ll see how the night goes she said.

She turned around and smiled at the bartender.

Shorty, give us a couple of shots.

The bartender served a couple of shots from a strange looking bottle he got from under the bar, no visible tags on it. He performed the same magic trick again and the shots were on her hand in a flash. She handed me the shot glass and toasted with hers.

Salute she said, trying to be fancy.

Bottom’s up I obliged.

I almost chocked, that was one of the strongest drinks I have ever tasted, and the fact that I gulped the drink in a second flat didn’t helped either. I started coughing when my throat tingled while getting numbed. She grinned.

What’s wrong honey? To strong for you? she asked.

I wasn’t expecting that. My face was as red as it could get. I was literally chocking, but I couldn’t let her see me like that. So I pretended everything was fine.

Well maybe you will get used to it, and learn to like it she said.

What is this?

It’s a local brew the owner of the place prepares in the back of the bar.

It’s pretty strong.

That’s the whole idea honey. You are not from around here. Are you? I haven’t seen you around before. Her eyes were roaming me, trying to determine If she had seen me before.

No, I’m from the city. Someone recommended this bar and I thought I would check it out.

So how is it looking so far? She asked.

So far it’s looking great I replied.

Well, I’ll drink to that.

By that point the bartender had already filled our glasses with another shot, she grabbed her drink and raised the glass. I took mine and had to gulp it yet again. That burning sensation that started out in my mouth went all the way down my throat and made my stomach explode. I wasn’t sure I could take any more of that, so I turned to the bartender and asked for something different.

Can I have a bottle of your best scotch?

She smiled at me and said.

Is that the plan for tonight?

That depends entirely on you I replied.

The bartender pulled out a bottle of scotch from under the counter in the back of the bar, grabbed two glasses and asked.

Do you want ice or soda with that?

To which I replied. Just ice, thank you.

He put the bottle in front of me and set the glasses alongside. Grabbed a scoop with ice and poured some in each glass. I took the bottle, opened it up and served us a couple of drinks.

Now, this is my kind of drink I said.

Fancy, I like it.

She grabbed the drink and gave me one of those looks that would bring anyone down to it’s knees. Those beautiful blue eyes undressed me and showed my true colors, every intention was revealed, every secret faltered.

I’m Jake, by the way. What do I call you?

I’m Emma. Her voice was as sweet as any other part of her. Emma suited her perfectly, but it could have been anything and it would have sounded as sweet. So I said.

But of course you are.

We raised our glasses and toasted

The night went on with story after story and her beautiful laughter adorning it all. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her, everything I looked at was perfect. Her lips, her eyes, her hair, her ears, and don’t get me started with her body, that seductive fortress of luscious erotism that got me sweating just by being close, by rubbing against me. I was basically concentrated in saying anything that made her laugh, she had the most contagious, defiant laughter I had ever heard, a voice that threatened my sanity and this wit about her that I just couldn’t ignore. I was trapped and after I don’t know how many more shots and drinks she finally invited me over to her place and I gladly accepted and we headed out the door.

I remember hailing a cab, opening up the door for her and struggling to get inside of it, I fell on the floor of the cab and she helped me to get on the seat. We were laughing hysterically when the cab took off and then everything went blank. Life has a strange way of giving you enough hope of a great moment and then taking it all away as it is developing, probably the biggest form of sarcasm. The one day I really wanted to remember every little detail and this happens, again.

Next thing I remember I was waking up to this classical headache that overcomes my life with grief, this terrible punishment of nature meant to make you regret your wrongdoings. I think it was the smell that woke me up, this incredibly dense and deep smell that slammed the back of my nose and penetrated my brain. My eyes were struggling to open and find the image behind the blur just to realize the darkness wasn’t a fig of my imagination, I was actually in a dark room and while I was trying to get up I started feeling other bodies around me. Where was I? What have I become part of? As I was trying to get up I stepped on someone.

Oh, I’m sorry.

I was trying to be quiet and not wake people up. I saw a light at the end of the room and tried to head out that way but I slept and fell on my back, hit my head and I was out again.

When I finally came to I was still laying on the floor. The floor was flooded, my clothes and my hair drenched in whatever was saturating the floor that felt thicker than water.

My head was pounding which made everything pause in sequence and affected my sense of balance. I tried standing up but the room kept moving around me confusing my sense of up right and the thing that kept me oriented to the ground was the fluidic nature that sodden it down. I got up on my knees and slowly stood up, I instinctively headed towards the light again. I reached the door between the room I was in and the one where the light was and pushed it open. I was blinded by the light of a single bulb on the ceiling, my eyes were still trying to adjust when I tried to grab the bulb, but I only achieved to hit it and it started moving violently all over the place.

When I was able to see clearly I found myself in a basement dark and sinister, the tiny windows at the top of the walls that oversaw the outside were covered. Walls were splattered and covered in whatever