They have come to The Parchman Penitentiary Farm to interview Mr. Claude "Smiley" Jenkins. His refusal of a Governor’s pardon should have been big news and one of the experienced reporters should have taken this story. However two terrorist attacks, and more Presidential shenanigans by the newly elected alcoholic in D.C. have all the top reporters occupied.
However this is a piece the papers owners want covered so the junior reporters are on their way. The electronic buzzing, the slamming of metal bars, and the constant screaming and catcalls grate both women’s nerves as they are lead to the interview room.
Smiley is earning his nickname as the two young women are lead into the room.
He stands and the knit hat with a faded M.D.O.C. is snatched off and folded into his hands behind his back. “Hello ladies, how y’all doing today? It’s a hot un anit it? Y’all forgive me if I am running on I anit had no company in a while.”
It’s an understatement Tonya knows from doing her research that Smiley has not had a visit in 7 years.
His dentures fit badly and the older man tries desperately to keep them intact. Smiley’s sense of pride and concern with his appearance is evident from his gleaming state issued boots, and the defined crease in his uniform. Claude could easily pass a military inspection.
“I reckon y’all is here cause I turnt down the governor’s pardon?” The inexperienced pair simply nod, and Smiley has to remind them to turn on their recorder.
“Listen it seem to me like y’all gals is new ta this reporting thang, I am gone help ya stead y’all axing me questions I’m tell you my story?”
The old man doesn’t wait for a further prompt. He begins his tale.
Nineteen hundred and 69 I was bout 24 or 25. I had worked all day hauling pulpwood. We had managed to get 6 loads that day and I was getting drunk. All a sudden like this gal I had been courting comes up to the café, now I weren’t the jealous type and I always reckoned my woman could handle her own scandal, if’n it get mo than she can handle then she ought call me. Well this ole pretty boy fella he keeps sniffing after my gal and like I say I’m just seeing how she gone handle thangs. Well I see this fella go to man handle Nadine. That was her name Nadine Whiterspoon and she was finer then young mosquito’s mustache. Well this fella I anit know his name till we came to court, but this fella he grabbed her by her lady parts and well I sliced him up pretty bad with my razor.
I kilt again in here these two fella’s thought that I might make a good substitute for a woman, I kilt both them sum bitches with a shank I had made outta broke mop handle. They gave me another life sentence for that. My son Claude Junior was made right over yonder in the tunk houses. I got his momma pregnant on a conjugal visit. When he was 20 he came here. We was in camp together a few years ago. He is on lock down now, he kilt somebody during visitation for calling his sister a bitch. She anit wanna see me without him so when she come up here she normally only visit him. I promise you honey I’m getting to the point.
The point is I’m bout to be 65 years old. I don’t have nothing or nobody in the free world. I am like everybody daddy in here. I am respected and I know what to expect. Take for instance today Friday. We gone play dominoes till supper and supper is gone be baked chicken with rice and greens and cornbread. Lockdown is later tonight so the youngins gone be singing and rapping and then in the morning it’s Pancake Day. If I go out in that free world what I’m supposed to do? I anit got no money my people anit got no money and who gone hire a 65 year old with three bodies under his belt. I’ll tell you who No and Body. Nah. I’m fine right where in the hell I’m at. If they want me out of here they gone have to force me out.
The State decided to do just that force Smiley out of the penitentiary.
Smiley now has four bodies under his belt.
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