The True Believer

Now

Tick Tock its 6pm. Time for my last meal. I ordered out. Way out! I knew the cooks here in MSP would only fix whatever synthetic shit they had in the cafeteria freezer. I'm not going out with that crap. I'm going out with style. You see about 3 weeks ago, after the last of my appeals flamed out, a high school buddy Paul Vachon, from the old neighborhood sent me an email with his condolences and asked if there was anything he could do. I snail mailed Paul back asking him for a Polish last meal. I figured I had as much chance of getting an old-world meal here on the row as I would of winning the national lottery. Well, old Pauly came through. A friend of a friend knew somebody, who knew somebody who contacted the warden here and got the approval. The deal is the food has to be legit and on the down low. No file-in-a-cake bullshit. And nothing in the media.

Big Tony came to me all hush-hush three days ago. "Hey Doc, you got a special delivery," he whispered as he escorted me to my hour of yard time. "Came down from yoh' friend up north via e-train. They done scanned it, x-rayed it, and taste tested some of it. Man said it tasted good! Not like that shit in the caf. Real food. You got yehself a fine final meal. They said they got cookin' 'structions so they know how to make it right."

That's right, in a few, I will enjoy the meal to literally die for: Kielbasa, Pierogi with Rosol soup. All made with real pork and chicken and surrounded by cooked potatoes, carrots, and onions. But the piece de resistance is – wait for it - fresh baked bread!! With dough from the Leonard Street Bakery!! I'm not sure what my old man would think of what is about to happen but I'm sure he would be proud I was enjoying bread from his old bakery before I joined him. I'll probably have to give him a full report on it. Hah! I sure hope those boneheads in the kitchen can read well enough to follow Pauly's instructions. I have my doubts.

I'm allowed a visitor to share my last meal. Typically, family members or a religious figure join the condemned. I said goodbye to Elsie and the kids this morning on a v-call. The truth is, it's been painful enough for them these past five years. Despite how much I would love to see them and touch them one last time, I couldn't bear to bring them to my hell here. Better they remember me as I was. No man of the cloth needed either. Seems organized religion has done more to divide people than unite them anyway, what with evangelist preachers backing want-a-be dictators. No, my final dining guest is Big Tony. He has been a good friend and made walking the last mile tolerable. And yes, he is big, all six feet four inches, two hundred and sixty pounds of him. Played defensive end for Alcorn State in the late teens when they still had an American football program. Yes, he is big and he walks and talks slow, but he sure ain't dumb. Probably the most learned man I have ever known. He has supplied me with a steady diet of classic English literature – Pope, Shakespeare, Chaucer, Twain, you name it. All from his own personal library.

"Doc, you should see what is going on ou'side da' gate," Tony told me during dinner. "They laid on extra-s'curity on account of da' crowds. Must have the 'ntire state police out 'der." He told me there are protests outside both in favor and against and it sounds like it has gotten ugly. He told me there were clashes and a number of injuries including at least one death. I have previously released statements to the press through my very expensive lawyer that I do not wish for people to protest in my name. It sickens me that my plight could be the cause of more pain. I can be cavalier with my own life, but I can't feel the same for others whether they support me or not.

After my last appeal was denied and my execution date was set, a strange thing occurred. They loosened the rules about what I can see. Big Tony gave me a news tablet. It feels weird that I'm catching up on all the goings on in the world just as I'm about to leave it. Top news topic of the day is the climate. Same as before I came here. The Shanghai sea wall was breached by a Super Typhoon. There are terrible food riots in India as droughts have caused crop failures again. A bill for resettlement money for Gulf coast states is bogged down in the US Congress. It is symbolic anyway. Since the US defaulted on debt in the 30's, the states are largely on their own. The last mayor of New Orleans, now living in Baton Rouge, lamented the loss of his city almost 5 years ago by blasting the terrible support from the federal government going all the way back to Katrina in 2005. There is another flair up in the never-ending struggle in Palestine. Some things never change. They are approaching a century of on and off conflict with no peace. I wonder if there will be an anniversary celebration.

When I was in high school, Israel built more settlements in the West Bank causing another intifada, as they called it then. I expressed support for the Palestinian's right to a homeland to my parents. It was then I learned the truth about Babcia and JaJo. I was raised with the story that they were Polish Catholic orphans of World War II and adopted through St Adalbert's parish after the war. They both attended the parish school where they met and married soon after high school. The old high school sweethearts celebrated 62 years together before JaJo passed in 2018. All that was true except the Catholic part. They both came from the same village, Otwock south of Warsaw, from prominent Jewish families but never knew each other as kids. When the Germans rounded up the Jews moving them first to Warsaw, then to Auschwitz, Babcia and JaJo were "adopted" into separate catholic homes to keep them safe. They were told by their parents to pretend to be good Catholics until they returned. When their parents didn't return, the good Catholic families that hid them, put them up for adoption through Catholic adoption programs in America, never mentioning the children were actually Jewish. As luck would have it both were adopted through the same parish in Grand Rapids to two wonderful families. Neither told their new parents the secret both held. By the time Babcia and JaJo married they were part of the tightknit Polish community around the neighborhood church. They didn't know any Jewish families. So Catholic they stayed. After learning this, I spent a summer checking out Judaism but let it slide, and for what it's worth, I still support the Palestinian's right to a homeland. I was never secretive about my family's Jewish past and it was never a problem until that Thanksgiving dinner at the Baumgarten's home.

Yesterday Tony came by and asked, "Doc, you want a priest or a rabbi to help you get right with the Lord?" I thought about it, thanked him for asking but said no thanks. As he was walking away, I joked, "Hey, can I get a imam?" He turned around with a puzzled look and asked, "You gone Moslem an' didn't tell me?" I replied, "Nope, but it would be fun to know the warden was chasing his tail scrambling to find an imam before the execution." Tony is always good for a laugh. I'm not going to miss this place but I will miss him.