Ronald could not remember a hotter day. Though he was accustomed to the hot summers that inevitably found their way to the Deep South, Ronald had never withstood one while standing guard over some hot tar. Ronald wiped the sweat from his brow and began pacing up and down the side of the unfinished road. Such was life on the chain gang.
Ronald was grateful to have his new job as a guard for the rural prison. For a young man from the Deep South in the early 1950s it was a steady, well paying job. Like all of the other prison guards, Ronald was relatively handsome, had short brown hair and was white. This was in direct contrast to all of the prisoners that he watched over, who were generally poor, uneducated black men. Ronald felt sympathy for most of the prisoners, feeling that they had never been given a fair shake in the region. He knew that many in the area were highly racist, particularly his fellow guards, and he had no doubt that some of the black prisoners were unfairly incarcerated. This did not mean that all of the prisoners were saints, as Ronald knew from newspapers that a few had been caught in the act of committing their crimes. Always conscientious, Ronald tried his hardest to be fair to the prisoners, regardless of race or crime.
Strolling along the worksite, and trying to avoid the tar fumes by covering his face with a cloth, Ronald looked at the prisoners. The black men were slowly working, some pushing the tar across the road while others cleared sections up ahead. Ronald twirled his black club as he walked. A few of the guards had rifles, the sight of which kept thoughts of fleeing from entering the minds of most prisoners. The newer guards like Ronald carried the black clubs, mainly to defend themselves if a prisoner attacked or to punish someone who talked back. Looking at the prisoners once again, Ronald did not think it was a problem. Most of the prisoners were either old, fat or young and scrawny. The prisoners who actually looked somewhat threatening physically were all chained at the ankles in order to keep them from getting any ideas. All, except for one.
The biggest, proudest prisoner on the chain gang wore no chains. Ronald had been told about Luke before starting his first shift. A giant of a man at 6'6 and seemingly stronger than any man Ronald had ever seen, Luke had developed an unspoken understanding with the guards. When they initially tried to chain his ankles, the black man proved too strong for even three or four guards to overpower. No amount of beatings would dissuade him from defying the guards. Still, the guards quickly noticed the effect that he had on the other prisoners, as Luke generally kept them in line with just a hard look from his coal black eyes. Although they would never admit it, their jobs were made easier by letting Luke take charge of the other prisoners. Luke continued to defiantly work chainless, while also breaking from the others by not wearing the tattered grey shirt that had been assigned to him. The tremendous heat, both from the sun above and the tar below, seemed not to affect Luke as strongly as it did the others. He was covered in sweat, but his head remained high and his shoulders unbowed. Ronald admired the quiet way that Luke managed to exert control on the others, and hoped that he would never cross paths with that particular prisoner if he tried to escape.
Ronald continued walking along the unfinished road until he heard a loud, harsh bellow.
"Ronald! Got a job for y'all!" A man's voice carried down the road.
Ronald hurried over to his superior. Known by the guards and prisoners alike only as The Captain, he was the chief guard for the prison and one of the more fearsome individuals Ronald had ever seen. The Captain had an impressive build, but his fearsome aura came mainly from his attire. Wearing the regular guard uniform with a large golden star over his heart, The Captain also wore a large black cowboy hat and extremely dark sunglasses that reflected everything. He intimidated everyone on the chain gang with the exception of Luke, guards included.
"Yes Captain?" Ronald said, his voice cracking slightly as he spoke.
"Got us a new prisoner today. Just our luck. Go over to the shack and fetch that nigger like a good boy." The Captain responded, his harsh expression never changing.
Ronald rushed down the dirt path that lead to the prison camp, arriving in only a few minutes. The prisoners were kept in a long wooden shack, which had grown quite squalid over the years. Ronald entered the shack just as the prisoner was being given the rules of the prison by the warden, an old fat man referred to as Big Daddy.
"So now you got it, boy? Lights out at 11, no work on the holy day, no noise and no funny business after dark. You just do as your told and we ain't gunna have no trouble." Big Daddy said in his thick southern drawl before giving the new prisoner two light slaps on the cheek. Wearing a white suit that somehow managed to contain his impressive girth, Big Daddy waddled back down the hallway toward the exit, the floorboards creaking underneath him with every step. Already in his 60s and quite heavy, Big Daddy's breathing was labored by the time he reached Ronald.
"Well you must be the new guard. I expect you and I are going to get along just fine, so long as you do your job and stay away from Big Daddy's little girl!" He said with a laugh as he slapped Ronald on the back.
"Yes sir, I will! I mean I won't! I mean..." Ronald stumbled with his words.
"Calm down son. You just take this nigger down to the road so we get some work out of him." The old warden stated before finally leaving the shack.
Always one to do as he was told, Ronald escorted the new prisoner out of the shack. They both looked back at the prisoner's new home. The decrepit shack did not look remotely like a welcoming home, particularly compared with Big Daddy's large, white plantation style manor visible in the distance behind it. After a few moments, Ronald directed the prisoner toward to the dirt path and then to the road.
"What exactly is your name?" Ronald asked the new prisoner, hoping to help both of them get off to a good start at the prison camp.
"Re... Re... Reggie." The prisoner studdered as he responded. He was clearly terrified to be at the prison, which Ronald completely understood.