The Two Dawns

The Two Dawns

“I can’t sleep, Jimmy.”

Jimmy Falco spun on his heel and walked toward me. It was four a.m., and he’d just started his shift. “You thinking about tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah. Wouldn’t you be?”

Jimmy nodded. Neither of us said anything for a minute. The only sound was the fluorescent light buzzing and blinking overhead, occasionally punctuated by Crazy Larry’s staccato screams echoing in the darkness beyond.

“Doesn’t he ever shut up?” Jimmy asked. 

I smiled. Jimmy had been here three years now.  I’d been here three times that, and Crazy Larry was here when I arrived. An institutionalized institution. “Nothing ever changes here, Jimmy.” In nine years, there was only Larry and me.

“Ain’t that the truth.”

“Except tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah. Well, you know what I think about that whole—

I waved him off. “Let’s not plow the same ground again. How’s school going?”

“Real good. Taking the LSAT next week and got my application sent off for law school.”

“That’s great! Proud of you.”

“Thanks.”

“What time’s the sunrise tomorrow?”

“Six thirty-seven. I’ll let you know later today what the boss man decides.”

“Thanks, Jimmy.”

“I’m awfully sorry about all this.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about. I can’t begin to tell you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

“Still though. If not for me…” Jimmy trailed off a moment, then said, “Down by four, ball on the fifty, three seconds left. I’ve still got one more Hail Mary to throw.”

I shook my head. “I told you; I’ve already seen my second dawn.”

“Let’s not plow the same ground again,” Jimmy said with a faint smile. “I’d better get going. I’ll be back around after a while. You need anything?”

“Besides a cake with a file in it?”

Jimmy smiled politely at my stale joke. “See you later, Uncle Tommy.”

Jimmy wasn’t actually my nephew. He lived in the house next door when we were growing up. He and his mother moved in when I was a senior in high school and Jimmy was in the eighth grade. The other kids picked on him until I stepped in. He immediately went from being preyed upon to one of the cool kids. He didn’t have a father, and I frequently saw random men coming and going from their place.  Jimmy would come over to escape, and we’d talk for hours about football, V8 engines, and girls. Usually in that order, but not always. 

Everything changed that frigid night ten years ago. I’ve replayed the events a thousand times in my head.  I can still see that moment when—

Larry let out another scream.

“Hey Larry? You’re all right, buddy. I’m here.”

“Tommy?”

“I’m here, Larry.” I looked at my watch. Ten past four in the morning. “You’d best try to get some sleep now.”

“OK. And um, thanks Tommy. I don’t think I could cut it here without you.”

Poor Larry tells me this every day. I couldn’t find the heart to tell him about what was happening tomorrow morning. I asked Jimmy and the other guards not to tell him either. Why give him something else to torment him? Tomorrow morning will come and go, and I’ll be gone with it.

I had two requests for the warden. Instead of fixing me a traditional last meal, I asked them to make a special meal for Larry. He talked incessantly about a big stack of waffles with maple syrup and bacon. I’d asked if they would fix that for him and escort him to another area to eat his special meal. I didn’t want him to have to see me take “The Walk” past his cell. My second request was to see the sunrise. I’d not seen one in the nine years I’d been locked up with Larry on death row.

I laid back on my bunk for a moment, but sleep had gone over the wall and wasn’t coming back today. I went to my tiny desk and switched on the little battery powered desk light Jimmy bought me. Might as well read a bit.

The irony hit me. A while back, I’d told Jimmy my theory of a man having two dawns in his life. Now, I find myself with two actual dawns left.  Two more sunrises. I won’t see today’s. I hope to see tomorrow’s. It’s my last chance. It’s all I have left.

Larry hadn’t experienced his second dawn. He still thought he’d get off the row someday. Poor fella likely isn’t capable of understanding. Probably for the best, at least in his current state. 

Undoubtedly, I’d experienced my second dawn. 

As I explained to Jimmy, the first dawn happens over and over in a man’s life. It’s waking up every day with hope that this day, or one in the future, will bring joy, success, family, peace; whatever quality of life you seek. That things will get better someday. 

The second dawn comes when you wake up and realize the first will never happen. It’s what you do in the aftermath of that second dawn that counts. At least that’s how I see it. 

Jimmy doesn’t see it that way.  And he shouldn’t. He still has hopes and dreams, just as it should be.

-----

Jimmy came to the end of the block and hit the button. Old Sergeant Wilson buzzed him in. The door locked behind him as Jimmy sat in a tattered chair next to the sergeant.

“Big day on the row,” Wilson said in a somber tone. “How’s Tommy doin’, he awake?”

“Sarge, you know Tommy, always up before dawn.”

“How are you doin’, Jimmy?” 

“I’m all right, I guess.”

“Did you upload that video you told me about?”

Jimmy nodded. “YouTube, Tik Tok, Instagram, Facebook. Anywhere I could think to upload it, I did.”

Jimmy had made a short video, pleading Tommy’s case. He’d tagged several nonprofit organizations that investigated cases of wrongfully convicted inmates on death row. He’d even tagged the Governor.

“Got any responses?”

“I’ve been kind of afraid to look, I guess I’d better do that now,” Jimmy said as he fished in his pocket for his smartphone. 

Jimmy’s face fell. “Less than a hundred views on every website. Worst of all, no messages from the organizations I tagged.”

Wilson clapped him on the shoulder. “No one can say you haven’t tried, kid.”

Jimmy nodded. After Tommy’s conviction, he’d managed to get a job with the prison. While working himself up to guard duty on death row, he’d enrolled at the university, with the goal of graduating from law school, passing the bar and appealing Tommy’s case. Death row cases stretched out sometimes for decades before execution was carried out.  

However, Tommy’s lawyers had exhausted their appeals and tomorrow’s date with the electric chair loomed. 

“After what he did for me back then, how could I sit by and do nothing?”

“You’re a good man, Jimmy Falco,” Wilson said as he buzzed open the other door. Jimmy said goodbye and made his way to the warden’s office. 

On the way, he stopped and looked out a small window overlooking the yard at the rising sun. He’d felt his hope fade, from acquittal on appeal, to a last chance governor’s pardon, and now, he just prayed they’d let Tommy watch his last sunrise. 

-----

It was noon and I laid back on my bunk with a smoke. Jimmy would be around with lunch for Larry and me soon. I hope that he’ll tell me the warden agreed to push my time back, allowing me to see the sunrise. 

The door buzzed down the block. “Lunchtime, boys!” Jimmy yells. 

“Think we’ll have waffles today, Tommy?” Larry yells from his cell.

We haven’t had waffles in the nine years I’ve been here. “I bet we will soon, Larry. They gotta serve that one of these days, right?”

Jimmy nodded at me as he passed my cell. It worked better for everyone if Larry was served first. He slid in his tray, then headed back to me.

“It’s not waffles, Tommy!”

“Well, maybe tomorrow, Larry!”

“You have the patience of Job, Uncle,” Jimmy said as he slid my tray inside.

“I’d say you do as well.” I took the tray and set it aside. Jimmy would want to talk for a minute.

“You holding up all right, Uncle?”

“Yeah. Got your ringer turned on? I expect the Governor will be calling you any minute now, telling them to turn me loose,” I said with a grin.

Jimmy looked at his shoes. “No one’s responded to the videos, Tommy. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You tried.”

“I got some good news from the warden. He’s moving it to eight, so you can be outside from six to seven to watch the sunrise.”

I nodded. “That’s great, thank you.” Jimmy looked tired. “About time for you to go home now, isn’t it, Big Jim?” He worked from four in the morning to noon, but frequently stuck around another hour or so if he had time before class. 

“Yeah. I need to go soon. I’ll see you tomorrow, Tommy.”

I felt a lump in my throat. “See you tomorrow, Jimmy.”

I slept in fitful segments and finally got up. Three o’clock always seemed a strange, yet hopeful time. The night was mostly over, and the next day had yet to begin. My mind felt fertile, enough to plow over some familiar ground. Before the sun rose, somewhere out there, was the perfect opportunity to drift back in time. Ten years to be exact.

I’d stepped out onto the porch to have a smoke and some fresh air. Mom and Dad’s 2012 Christmas party was going full bore. I listened to the house full of cheerful relatives and friends enjoying each other’s company. It was a wonderful tradition we relished each year. 

My folks and I had invited Jimmy. He wanted to come so badly, but his mother insisted he stay home. She wanted to have Christmas Eve as a family.  As much family as a liquor-soaked abusive boyfriend and his derelict mother could provide, that is. 

I heard screaming coming from next door. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an unusual event at the Falcos’ home. But I realized, this was different. Jimmy was screaming, usually it was his mother. It wasn’t screaming in anger. It sounded like sheer terror. And pain. 

I stubbed the butt out, ran through the snow to Jimmy’s and knocked on the door. No answer. The screaming, if anything, intensified. 

I reared back and kicked the door in. Mrs. Falco was passed out on the living room floor. Toward the dining room, Jimmy was bleeding from several cuts as the mother’s scumbag boyfriend held him down, a knife at his throat, trying to pull his jeans down.  

I saw red. I kicked the large man off Jimmy; he growled and came at me with the knife.  I grabbed his wrists and for a moment we were locked in an upright stalemate. Suddenly, I fell, and he’s rolled up on top of me, the knife slowly pushing down toward my neck. I struggled to get a leg free and kneed him in the crotch. He groaned, and as I rolled and fought to subdue him, somehow the knife plunged deep into his chest. He bled out on the dirty shag carpet as I called 911. 

The police came and I was arrested. The trial happened quickly and for reasons I still don’t understand, I was convicted of first-degree murder of that rapist scumbag. The jury sentenced me to death.

All I have to show for it, besides Jimmy’s undying friendship, is one more sunrise in a few hours. 

The row is peaceful; the night guard just sits on his can, reading magazines, and Larry’s quiet since his nighttime medicine hasn’t worn off yet. I’ve always liked the peaceful hour between three and four. Somehow, this last one feels bittersweet.

Not that I mind Larry. He shouldn’t be on the row either. He was an eighteen-year-old kid when he was arrested for killing a carload of passengers.  They’d all been drinking heavily. Larry missed a turn, flipped the car into a ravine, and five of six kids died, Larry the lone survivor. Between bashing his head through the windshield, the intense survivor’s guilt, and the years of lockup, somewhere along the line he’d become Crazy Larry.

“Morning Uncle Tommy.” Jimmy’s voice shook me out of my daydream. 

“Hello, Jimmy. How are you this fine morning?”

Jimmy’s hand went to the corner of his eye, and I pretended to not see it. 

“Fine,” he said, clearing his throat. “How are you?”

“I’m good. I’m going to see my first sunrise in nine years. My last one too, I guess.”

“I still haven’t gotten any traction on the videos. I’m sorry.”

I nodded. “Don’t worry about it. Better go check on Larry.”

At five forty-five, Jimmy and another guard walked Larry out of his cell and down the block. As he passed my cell, he said, excitedly, “Waffles, Tommy! I’m finally getting waffles!”

I smiled. “That’s great, Larry! You enjoy that, and never forget how sweet they taste.”

“I won’t, Tommy! Bye, Tommy,” he said over his shoulder as they walked him out of the block. 

“Goodbye, Larry.”

Jimmy and a couple of other guards arrived at my cell at six sharp. “Ready to go see that sunrise, Uncle T.?”

“You bet.” I stuck my hands through the opening and Jimmy put the cuffs on me, then the leg irons. The warden and his staff arrived and we walked past Larry’s empty cell and off the block. A few more door buzzes and we were in the yard.

The walls were high, but the warden had arranged for a small section of bleachers to be placed in the yard, facing east. Climbing to the top, flanked by the guards, I could see the sky touch the earth. 

I looked above and reveled in the clear night sky. How long since I’d seen the stars! I found Polaris, the North Star. From that I found both big and little dippers, Orion, Venus, and Mars. Such beauty contrasted vividly with the stark environment of the row. Choked up, I was glad it was still dark. 

Jimmy sat next to me. He didn’t speak. He knew how much this second dawn meant to me, and I drank it all in. Soon, oranges and pinks began appearing under the deep blue hue, and I thanked God for a nearly cloudless canvas to witness His celestial art. 

As the orange and pink light intensified into a brilliant display overhead, I thanked everyone for making this happen. Especially Jimmy.

What happened in the next hour or so is inconsequential. I had run my course. Life doesn’t always turn out. 

But sometimes, just sometimes, it does. 

Jimmy comes to talk to me in the graveyard. We’ve all had those moments in the cemetery, wondering if our beloved people who’ve moved on can hear us. 

I’m here to tell you, we can.

Jimmy shows up a lot in that magical time, just before the sun rises. He says it reminds him of me. He tells me what’s going on in his life.  He’s happily married now, two boys and another child on the way.  He passed the bar with flying colors.  He has a successful law practice, and he heads up a new nonprofit dedicated to helping the wrongfully condemned.

He says he couldn’t have done it without me. And somehow, that makes it all worthwhile.

He also told me my parents were doing well and that they loved me and missed me greatly. I wish Jimmy had experienced that deep parental love, but he and his family have forged a beautiful relationship with my parents, which makes me happy for them all.

I couldn’t be prouder. Jimmy’s come such a long way since he was the skinny new kid on the block. 

Oh, there’s one more thing he told me just this morning. He’d gotten a new trial for Larry, and his death sentence was commuted. There was a lot of discussion of where to put Larry. He still needed to be in some sort of institution. 

The judge agreed with the warden’s suggestion. He was made a trustee. Larry works for the prison, he mops floors, does laundry, helps in the kitchen, and delivers books to the prisoners. They’ve adjusted his meds; he’s at peace now, he hasn’t had a screaming session in years. 

And they have waffles every Tuesday.