The Weatherman by Steve Thayer

Author:Steve Thayer [Thayer, Steve]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Mystery & Detective, General, Psychological
ISBN: 9780878393169
Google: Wy-nPwAACAAJ
Amazon: 0878393161
Publisher: North Star Press of Saint Cloud
Published: 1995-01-01T22:00:00+00:00

THE VISIT

Ramsey County Adult Detention Center-2 West, D Pod, Cell 340. Dixon Bell sat alone on his bunk, staring out the window at the sunny weather above the muddy river. But this window was seven layers thick, with a motion alarm. It was as if he had stepped through the looking glass. His face was all over television, for all the wrong reasons. The district attorney called him a serial killer. The judge denied him bail, and he was locked up like a zoo animal in this high-tech podular jail that hung over the white sandstone cliffs of St. Paul.

Railroad tracks ran directly beneath his cell, so close he could see wisps of engine smoke as the trains chugged by. They chugged by often, and then the whole building shook. If he could somehow smash through that window, it was only a three-story drop to the tracks. He thought about busting out. These days he thought a lot about escape.

It was summertime. Eighty-and ninety-degree temperatures. His window faced south. People were boating right in front of him. Off to his right he could see the High Bridge arched from cliff to cliff. To his left was the Wabasha Street Bridge, and further downriver were the dramatic arches of the Robert Street Bridge. From there the mighty Mississippi wound around Pig’s Eye Bend and started for Vicksburg. If he could bust out he’d just follow the river home.

The brick cell was triangular. Two bunks were attached to the wall. Dixon Bell had the cell to himself, but every once in a while when the jail was full they’d toss a harmless bum in there with him. He had an aluminum toilet that made a lot of noise when flushed; that way the deputies could hear it. If a prisoner flushed his toilet too often the deputies would come up and shake him down. They were sheriff’s deputies and they despised being called guards. He had an aluminum wash basin and a mirror. On the wall was an intercom button. Each prisoner was allowed two sheets, a towel and a wash cloth, a few bathroom items, toothpaste and brush, and a couple of books, paperbacks only.

Cotton cumulus clouds floated across a clear blue sky. High pressure was in control on this day. He could see a refreshing breeze off the water, but he couldn’t feel it. That was the most punishing aspect of all, being removed from the natural elements and locked in climate control. The Weatherman was made to wear jail greens and sandal slippers. He was locked in his cell from ten o’clock at night until five o’clock in the morning. If he was a good boy he’d be promoted to “trustee” and allowed to stay up until 1:00 A.M. and watch television. To date, he hadn’t been very good.

There were ten cells in his pod: five upstairs, five down. They opened up into a day room with a winding staircase, where the prisoners spent most of their time. Meals were served in the day room.

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