Behind the Gates of Gomorrah by Stephen Seager

Author:Stephen Seager
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gallery Books

“WE’LL FORM UP at three,” Larsen said after Friday rounds. “And walk the guys down to the parade.”

“A parade?” I asked.

“Santa’s coming,” Monabong said. “You have to have a parade.”

“He’s traveled a long way,” Cohen added. “He expects it.”

“Who’s playing Santa this year?” Palanqui asked.

“Mr. Watson from upstairs,” Xiang said.

“Watson?” Palanqui chimed in. “He’s just a little bitty guy.” She held her hand out at shoulder height.

“He’s the only man all year,” Xiang said, “without an alarm incident.”

After lunch, Cohen and I passed Palanqui and Monabong heading toward the sally port. They wore green felt elf costumes with red striped socks, pointy hats, and curled shoes. We waved. They did a spontaneous elf dance and waved back.

In the center of the STA, on a large patch of green fronting the D Units, a wooden stage had been erected. On top of it stood a twenty-foot Christmas tree, decorated with dozens of big white-and-blue papier-mâché ornaments and three thick, twining ropes of silver bunting. A canvas tree skirt circled the bottom, and a pile of brightly painted, outsize wooden boxes topped with enormous colored bows lay on the skirt. To the right of the tree was a podium and behind that two rows of folding chairs.

Back on the unit, Cohen and I joined the rest of the staff and most of the Unit C men; a few patients elected to remain behind and two night nurses had agreed to stay with them. Xiang checked everyone’s name off a list, then Cohen unlocked the door and we headed out.

I walked with Boudreaux while Caruthers pushed Ortega behind us. The rest of the staff wandered ahead, interspersed among the other Unit C men. From across the campus, like streams collecting in a storm, patients flowed toward the giant green tree. A large crowd gathered in front of the stage.

Like Christmas anywhere, everyone was excited. Unlike Christmas anywhere else, a full-force police presence encircled the revelers. “White Christmas” and “Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer” rang out from speakers appended to nearby tree trunks. People sang along. Finally, Dr. Francis rose and tapped a microphone on the thin lectern.

“Welcome to Napa State Hospital’s annual Christmas celebration,” she said. “Is everyone having a good time?”

A general “Yeah” rang out.

Dr. Francis thanked the hospital dignitaries on hand, then the workers who’d done the stage construction and tree decoration. “Without further ado,” she said, “Marla Castle from the women’s unit will light our official Napa State tree.”

A large white woman with short-cropped brown hair stood next to Dr. Francis.

“Let’s count down,” Dr. Francis said. “Five, four, three . . .” she called, and the crowd echoed. Just after “three,” Castle excitedly threw the lever and the tree exploded in light.

“. . . Two, one,” Dr. Francis concluded but was drowned out by a collective gasp and applause.

Dr. Francis turned and pointed toward the sally port. “I think our guest of honor has arrived.”

Onto the main drag pulled two immaculately restored 1958 long-finned Cadillac convertibles, each driven by a smiling policeman.

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