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Falconer 99<br />
As the day of the cardinal’s arrival approached, even the lifers said<br />
they had never seen such excitement. Farragut was kept busy<br />
cutting dittos for order sheets, instructions and commands. Some<br />
of the orders seemed insane. For example: “It is mandatory that all<br />
units of inmates marching to and from the parade grounds will<br />
sing God Bless America.” Common sense killed this one. No one<br />
obeyed the order and no one tried to enforce it. Every day for ten<br />
days the entire population was marshaled out onto the gallows<br />
field, the ball park, and what had now become the parade grounds.<br />
They were made to practice standing at attention, even in the<br />
pouring rain. They remained excited, and there was a large<br />
element of seriousness in the excitement. When Chicken Number<br />
Two did a little hornpipe and sang: “Tomorrow’s the day they give<br />
cardinals away with a half a pound of cheese,” no one laughed, no<br />
one at all. Chicken Number Two was an asshole. On the day<br />
before his arrival, every man took a shower. The hot water ran out<br />
at around eleven in the morning and cellblock F didn’t get into the<br />
showers until after chow. Farragut was back in his cell, shining his<br />
shoes, when Jody returned.<br />
He heard the hooting and whistling and looked up to see Jody<br />
walking toward his cell. Jody had put on weight. He looked well.<br />
He walked toward Farragut with his nice, bouncy jock walk.<br />
Farragut much preferred this to the sinuous hustle Jody put on<br />
when he was hot and his pelvis seemed to grin like a pumpkin. The<br />
sinuous hustle had reminded Farragut of vines, and vines, he<br />
knew, had to be cultivated or they could harass and destroy stone<br />
towers, castles and cathedrals. Vines could pull down a basilica.<br />
Jody came into his cell and kissed him on the mouth. Only<br />
Chicken Number Two whistled. “Goodbye, sweetheart,” he said.<br />
“Goodbye,” said Farragut. His feelings were chaotic and he might<br />
have cried, but he might have cried at the death of a cat, a broken<br />
shoelace, a wild pitch. He could kiss Jody passionately, but not<br />
tenderly. Jody turned and walked away. Farragut had done<br />
nothing with Jody so exciting as to say goodbye. Among the
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