Fantasy Locked in a Criminal Mind

By Stan Briney

One vexatious thought always remained deep within Jeremy’s dysfunctional mind.  It was the perpetual fantasy of his unquestionable inheritance of the large, beautiful Oklahoma ranch that he knew was sitting atop that huge chasm of natural gas.

                        &n

• Language: English
• Publisher: LitFire Publishing
• Release date: Dec 20, 2019
• ISBN: 9781641514651

Stan Briney

Stan Briney's penchant for creativity and detail is clearly shown in his work as a professional artist and in his recent works in freelance writing. This is his first novel. The author obtained Bachelor and Master of Science degrees from the State University of Iowa followed later by his graduation from medical school. His medical specialty in Diagnostic Radiology provided him a long and distinguished professional career in both clinical and academic medicine. Since early childhood and without formal art training, his natural born talent in art has earned him recognition and honors. Following his retirement from medicine in 1995, he has developed a very successful second career as an award-winning professional artist. His realistic bronze sculptures and illustrations can be found in private art collections, homes, offices and schools within the United States. Briney and his wife reside in the cattle ranching country of north central Texas where he has a small art studio and gallery in their country home. The Briney's have three children, five grown grandchildren, and two great grandchildren.

Book preview

front.jpg

Fantasy Locked in a Criminal Mind

Copyright © 2018 by Stan Briney

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher or author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Although every precaution has been taken to verify the accuracy of the information contained herein, the author and publisher assume no responsibility for any errors or omissions. No liability is assumed for damages that may result from the use of information contained within.

ISBN: 978-1-64151-465-1

Printed in the United States of America

LitFire LLC

1-800-511-9787

www.litfirepublishing.com

[e-mail]

Fantasy Locked in a

Criminal Mind

Stan Briney

Contents

Acknowledgements

A Note From the Author

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

About the Author

Acknowledgements

First and foremost, I must express my thanks and appreciation to my family for their continued love, respect, and understanding that each one has shown me over the years. Without them, my life would be much less special and far less rewarding. Special gratitude must go to Priscilla, my wife of over sixty-years, who has provided continued love, understanding, and encouragement during my long difficult years of formal education, my medical career and the good times since.

I am indebted to Charlene Pung, a longtime friend and accomplished artist. After reading my self-published short stories, Charlene encouraged me to write a novel. After pondering the task for several months, I listened to her advice and began to write the pages herein.

Judy Alter, a longtime friend and award-winning author of several books, offered helpful and constructive criticism during my first feeble attempts with free-lance writing. I owe her my thanks and appreciation.

John Temple must also receive my appreciation for the many hours he devoted to the initial manuscript’s pre-editing phase. Sharing his literary knowledge was helpful in the development of the story as well.

Resource material for this novel came from a wide number of publications and source material taken from the Internet. To create in my reader’s mind a sense of realism, suspense and a feeling of being there beside my fictional characters, I’ve used authentic events, times and locations. Through these pages, some readers may find my writing to be considered offensive by the exceptionally vivid and graphic detail. This is simply for creating realism and certainly not to be offensive in any way to the reader.

Finally, I wish to thank LitFire Publishing and their employees, especially Isabel Sanders, for their professional expertise and co-operation before, during, and following this book’s revised second publication. My appreciation to everyone.

A Note From the Author

After first publishing an anthology of eight fictional short stories under the title Dead End Roads, I chose to expand one of the stories into this novel of fiction.

We must ask ourselves. What makes an intelligent and honorable boy become an evil adult man? This question has baffled many professional experts for years. It has led them to ask, argue and discuss the subject, yet in the end there is never a really true answer. Multiple facts have been proposed. Perhaps it might have been the frequent vivid childhood imagination with an associated fantasy that would play a role as described in the following pages.

Although strictly fiction, I believe this novel conveys a very realistic, true-to-life story. I have endeavored to keep this crystal clear and also graphic for my reader. My goal has been to extol this realism, not only to provoke the reader’s attention, but to also provide reading enjoyment.

As the story of Jeremy Kendall unfolds in these pages, his teen years’ fantasy eventually becomes an obsession and ultimately a daemon inside his intelligent mind from which he can never escape. This daemon pushes him down a path of criminal activity, self-destruction, isolation and death. I believe a lesson can be learned.

Enjoy.

S. Briney

Chapter One

* * *

The white multi-passenger Ford van moves slowly down the concrete drive and away from 12 Building. The two-story concrete and steel building with its high-tech interior design sits somewhat isolated from the other buildings that comprise the Allan B. Polunsky unit of the Texas Department of Criminal Justice. This male prison complex, once known as the Terrell unit, is located approximately five miles outside of Livingston, a small town in east central Texas, less than a hundred miles from Houston.

The Polunsky unit has a capacity for 2,900 inmates. Some areas inside the prison have super maximum security. All condemned Texas Death Row inmates are confined to 12 Building. For some of them sentenced to Death Row prior to 1999, this building is their second home while for others sentenced after that year, 12 Building has been their only home.

On this overcast November day a few patchy areas of fog are mixed with a cold drizzle of rain. A biting northwesterly wind adds to the discomfort of the morning. As the van pulls onto the road that fronts the prison, the driver turns a knob for some interior heat and another to engage the windshield wiper blades.

Eight years have passed since Jeremy Lee Kendall’s arrival at Polunsky on Death Row. Today marks his first exposure to the outside world since his arrival here; and also the last. For the past eight long years he has had all the time in the world, but with no place to go. Today, he has a place to go. This cold dreary day is ordained to be his last spent on earth.

Kendall is keenly aware of the van’s destination while he sits sullen in the rear with eyes closed. Early this afternoon, he will be escorted into what has been labeled Death House at the Wall’s unit in Huntsville. His execution by lethal injection is scheduled for shortly after 6:00 p.m. this evening.

The middle-aged Caucasian inmate is of slender build, but in the face, he appears older than his years. He is clean-shaven while his thick wavy brown hair is showing considerable graying at the temples. Throughout Jeremy’s adult life, a fair number of women have found his ruggedly handsome features and charismatic personality appealing. Yet, in Jeremy’s mind, women are for sexual gratification only, whenever and wherever he chooses.

Jeremy is wearing his usual prison uniform this morning. His white cotton pullover shirt bears two black letters "DR" stamped across the back. White cotton trousers with elastic waist complete his uniform, in addition to the thin soft slippers that cover his bare feet.

Kendall sits shackled with ankle irons and belly chain. Next to his feet on the floor of the van is a small cardboard carton that contains the only remaining items of his life, a few minor toiletries, and his favorite leather bedroom slippers. When leaving this morning, prison guards cleaned out his cell and placed his few belongings in the carton that is to accompany him to Huntsville.

Seated directly across from Kendall is a tall robust Polunsky Corrections Officer with holstered weapon. A second officer is riding in the front passenger seat, next to the driver. A steady conversation can be heard from the two men in front, but in the rear, only a haunting silence.

The usual and always anticipated dark cloud of nervous tension has been building for several days prior to this dreary November morning. Kendall’s fellow Death Row inmates have received word through their grapevine that one of their own is scheduled for imminent execution any day. Individual reaction to this news varies greatly. Some inmates display hostility, anger, and continual explosive condemnation of execution. Others accept their own pending fate; sometimes even harboring a degree of envy. If this were to be their day, the agonizing isolation would have finally come to an end.

Like some of the others on the cellblock, the solitude and despair Kendall has experienced during his years of isolation from the outside world have taken their toll. Years of confinement have provided abundant time for his reawakening about the many decisive events that transpired at critical times during his life.

On numerous occasions out of shear anguish, he has scribbled his thoughts on paper; some rational while others bordered on the bizarre. Moments later, he would angrily tear the paper to shreds. This non-productive exercise had at least awarded him an opportunity to pass away some of the wrenching minutes and hours of boredom.

Unfortunately, as the last hours of his troubled life have been ticking down, he is still unable to reconcile why his life’s journey lead him down a road of self-destruction. Today, he does have consolation in knowing that the finality of it all is only hours away.

Kendall’s same tiny lockup on the second floor cellblock of 12 Building has remained his quarters since arriving at Polunsky. It measured 6x10 feet with a single glass window to the outside world that measures three inches in height by four feet in length. Its location on the exterior wall but adjacent to the ceiling permitted some welcomed interior light each day, but permitted no visual access to the outside world. A single overhead fluorescent light fixture provided the only other interior lighting. Each of his meals was pushed through the infamous bean slot in his cell’s heavy steel door.

Until this morning, Jeremy has been confined twenty-two out of every twenty-four hours in this little room. Each scheduled release outside the confines of this cell, whether for a shower, exercise period, or for whatever reason, was always precluded with a guard’s strip search of his body for contraband. This dehumanizing routine practice had long since prompted loss of any modesty or personal inhibition that he might have once possessed.

Some DR inmates are permitted use of a small radio; Kendall has been fortunate to have one. He has listened to country western music daily while trying to block out the continual loud chaotic noise coming from the other inmates all hours of the day and night. He has also appreciated the books and writing materials that were made available to him on a regular basis. Day after day, year after year, Jeremy has remained completely isolated from all other inmates even during his scheduled daily exercise period. The welcomed exercise periods took place in a separate secured area. His only daily conversation was with prison guards and personnel.

As the van continues its journey towards Huntsville, thoughts linger in Jeremy’s mind. Some relate to the pleasant times and experiences of his life while others bring back painful and tragic memories and events. A major part of his entire adult life has been interlaced with alcohol, drugs, sex and crime.

Only recently has Jeremy barely begun to grasp the magnitude of his youth’s vivid imagination and fantasy. His imagination played tricks on his mind with the tormenting and unrelenting fantasy which was partly responsible for the path he followed. Yet, it was a path he was powerless to avoid. For the prisoner, it is too late to worry about that now.

Following his widely publicized murder trial, Kendall’s defense attorney, Graford Jones, began preparing an exhaustive assortment of appeal documents in an attempt to have the death sentence commuted to life. At various times through the years Jones submitted his appeals, yet each time they were rejected by the courts. Meanwhile, Jeremy remained confined in his cell at Polunsky. Frantic appeals submitted to the Texas Governor’s office as recently as this morning failed to bring forth a stay for this evening’s scheduled execution.

With noted frequency Jeremy is seen twisting his tense and aching body in an attempt to rid some of the discomfort from the belly chain pulling at his waist. He has become aware of clammy sweat developing beneath his cotton shirt. Discerning his fate, Jeremy is anxious to have this day end—the sooner the better.

* * *

Since his arrival on the Death Row cellblock, Jeremy has read several of the books from the prison library, some containing historical information about the Texas Penal System and capital punishment in the state. From his early reading it became crystal clear how the system was holding his fate within their hands. After the first several weeks of confinement, he was forced to accept the lot with which he had been dealt.’

The officer seated across from Jeremy turned to him, commenting in a deep voice, We’re just now entering the edge of Huntsville. We’ll be arriving at the Walls unit shortly.

When Jeremy glances through the van’s steel-barred window, he can see that the weather has remained gray and overcast since their leaving Livingston. Within minutes the van comes to a stop a short distance outside the rear of a large dark masonry building. The Polunsky officer who has been seated in front quickly jumps out, unlocks and slides open the van’s passenger door. The officer seated next to Jeremy quickly exits and offers his hand to assist Kendall’s somewhat awkward exit because of his ankle chains.

When stepping out onto the wet concrete, Jeremy stands motionless for a moment and welcomes comfort of the chilly damp air. Take a few deep breaths, Kendall, urged one of the officers. Jeremy complied and took in several deep breaths while casting a slow sweeping glance at the compelling surroundings. The day’s dreary weather has only amplified the stark, yet eerie features of Texas Death House.

Flanked by the two Polunsky officers while making their way to the building’s rear entrance, the doomed man finds once again how the ankle irons and chain restrict his gait. Once arriving outside the large entrance doors, Kendall stops suddenly, turns around and takes in several more deep breaths as he glances back across the wet concrete walkway that he and the officers have just navigated. Turning to one of the officers he says, Let’s go. One escort holds open the large door as Kendall enters the historic and infamous building.

With head lowered and eyes nearly closed, Jeremy is guided slowly through the large entry way and finally inside the holding room area. A large wall clock on the entry wall shows it to be a few minutes past 1:00 p.m. Kendall has arrived precisely on time.

Several of the institution’s uniformed personnel are present in the room when Jeremy enters. Their mixed conversations hush upon his entrance. One of them steps forward and instructs Kendall to take the seat by a small table. Routine protocol calls for the condemned prisoner to be confined in one of the holding room’s small cells until finally being led down a short corridor and into the chamber just prior to his scheduled time of execution.

Moments later, the prison Deputy Warden enters the room and briefly acknowledges each of the Polunsky Correctional officers. He then approaches to where Kendall is seated. His demeanor and physical appearance suggest that he is an all-business type of person and is conditioned on the task that is at hand after several years’ experience.

Remaining silent for a few moments, the Deputy looks down at a subdued Jeremy, slumped in his chair. After his study of the man, he then announces in a heavy southern drawl, Kendall, I’m the Deputy Warden here. It’s my duty to tell y’all what will take place now that you’re here with us. It’s important that y’all listen to me carefully and that you understand why you’ve been brought here. You have come from the Polunsky unit for just one reason only and that’s for your scheduled execution by lethal injection that’ll occur at 6:00 p.m. this evenin’. Am I makin’ myself clear and do ya understand?

Jeremy remains silent but gives a sneering nod. Since entering the holding area and now for the first time, he looks up and glances slowly around while noting the handful of prison personnel. He then looks up and stares for a moment at the somber face of the heavy-set warden who is standing at his side.

Kendall once again lowers his head and closes his eyes as before when the deputy begins a lengthy discourse about what he is about to experience for the remaining hours of his life. Instead of a lecture, all Kendall wants is for this day to end. He has little interest for what the deputy is saying. Nevertheless, the deputy drawls on.

"For the next few hours while you are confined in one of these holding cells, you are permitted to say or make whatever statement you might choose to any of us. During this time, we also permit and strongly encourage that y’all have as much private time and conversation as you’d like with one of our prison chaplains. He is here for you during these last hours. And if y’all want, he’ll remain