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They walked together the 100 feet to the death chamber. It was a slow walk, and Sam was trying to bargain in his head with God, but it was too late fo... that. He knew he had killed that man (actually those men, but he was convicted for one in particular), and this was a consequence of his action. He owned up to it. But death ... is so final.The death chamber was unlocked, and he was escorted to the chair, stripped, and strapped in. When the guards were done, he could open his mouth, but he could. I'd been burned enough. I was out of the fishing business.I didn't know what the hell to do with myself. I'd been fishing for a living since I was old enough to stand on a ship's deck. I did know one thing--I wasn't going to live with some noisy stomping bastard living on my ceiling, an alcoholic chick on the dole with a screaming baby or four screaming pre-teen brats trying to kill each other next door. I took my checkbooks, my bad attitude and my zimmer frame shopping for a new boat.I checked. He looked so different now compared to how he was earlier in the meeting room. So relaxed and easy, just like how he was when I met him at the grocery store. He must have known I didn’t want to talk about what happened at work earlier and didn't push. We exchanged stories about our families and friends. He amazed me with his insights and I shocked him with mine. He told me about the mischief of his school days and I told him about my geeky spectacles. The night passed quickly without us. It's Caleb Jackson. I need ta talk ta ya without rousing the whole town."Henry opened the door and said, "Come in, Caleb. Man, I'm glad ta see ya. I hear ya got a might of trouble with the law." There was the usual shaking of hands and backslapping for a minute or two, then Caleb explained what had happened to cause the warrant."Hell, Caleb, I figured it was sumpthin' like that. Ya always did stick up fer yer friends. I remember a couple of times ya he'ped me outa some scrapes. Here, have a.
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