Читать книгу The Ultimate Pursuit - Carl D. Smith - Страница 14

When I was booked into jail, there was this huge Samoan guard, the largest person I have ever seen. He put the man I had assaulted and me into a cell together and called the other guards to watch. The guards said to us, “O.K., you guys want to kill each other? Go ahead. We want to watch.” We looked at each other, shook our heads no and did not concede. As angry as we were with one another, we were not going to let the guards use us for their entertainment. The guards were disappointed and then moved him to another cell.

I laid down on the concrete floor. That’s all there was—no bunk, no sink, just concrete and the steel bars that separated the prisoners from the outside. I could see the jungle approximately 100 yards away. When the sun went down, the mosquitoes were thick and they came right through those bars and devoured me. A guard brought me a single sheet that night which I wrapped tightly around my body. The mosquitoes were so many, they found a way in and I was swollen all over my face and neck for days.

I had no heroin in my cell and the withdrawals made me wish I could die. I truly wished that the misery would end. The only food given to us was one bowl of rice a day, and one bowl of water. Some of the local men in that jail had family who dropped off food for them, but I had no family, only the basic food given to keep me alive. At 19 years old, I was learning some hard lessons. I found myself thinking about God…if I took my life somehow, would God forgive me? I laid on the hard cement floor and found that a peace and comfort came over me when I prayed or talked to God. I said things to Him from my heart; I said I was sorry. If He would help me, I sure would try to live my life in a better way.

A message came to me early in the morning on the fourth day. A Navy lawyer from the Communications Station had met with the District Attorney and arranged for my release. Someone from the base would come for me today. I thought, all right, maybe everything will work out somehow. The guard came to my cell around noon and opened the steel bar door and said something to the effect that he had better not see me again in his jail. He said they did not like us honkies and threatened that the next time something might happen to me. He took me to the R&R center (Receiving and Releasing), where I was released to a Navy driver.

He drove me to the Navy base. I hoped that my wife would meet me and say something like, “Are you alright?” Or maybe, “I missed you and am glad you’re home.” No, there was nothing like that. I cleaned up at our house after a few days in jail without being able to shower or change clothes. She called me from work. She said someone had called her and told her I was out of jail and back on the base. She said, “Carl, you are destroying your life. I want out of the marriage,” and then she hung up. I felt like everything had been knocked out from under me.

A week later, the District Attorney called me for a meeting at his office in downtown Agana, Guam. I was scared. I could not even imagine what it would be like if I got convicted in this place and sentenced to who knows how long. The District Attorney explained to me that the young man who came after me was someone who had a long record with them. They were not happy that we had thrown a pie provoking him. However, they were offering to drop all charges if I would not file charges against him. I said, “Sure thing, where do I sign?” It was a done deal; I went back to the Navy base feeling that something unusual had just happened. I felt very lucky, but something was telling me it was more than luck. Could that little prayer inside that cell have made a difference? Something sure made a very big difference.