Life After Death: The Shocking True Story of a Innocent Man on Death Row

messages in bottles. They come from downstream with a ghost inside each one. I don’t know who or what casts those bottles, at least not yet. Those with less curiosity or ambition just mumble that God works in mysterious ways. I intend to catch him in the act.

Eight
    E ventually, Jason Baldwin came over nearly every single day after school, and we’d sit in my room listening to music, talking, and laughing at other people until we reached a fevered, manic pitch. I laughed harder in those early days than I have ever since. It was the kind of laughter that causes you to lose all control and fall over. Years later, Jason and I talk about those days, trying to remember exactly what was so funny. Neither of us knows; we only recall that it was the most hilarious period of our lives.
    Soon every weekend would find either me sleeping at Jason’s house or him sleeping at mine. When we were at my place we’d stay in my room, eating chips, drinking cans of generic soda, and listening to heavy metal cassettes. We were always trying to be quiet so that Jack wouldn’t hear us—if he heard even the slightest sound he’d go into a rage. He automatically hated anyone I befriended and went out of his way to make it unpleasant for all of us.
    The very first night I stayed at Jason’s we decided to sneak out. I had never done this before, so I was doing it more for the thrill than to go anywhere in particular. The evening started out with Jason’s mom, Gail, dropping us off at the bowling alley in West Memphis, with the instruction to go nowhere else. As soon as she left the parking lot, Jason’s younger brother Matt departed the scene in search of other excitement. Jason and I went inside to play pool and associate with all the other hoodlums. This was the hangout for degenerates, and there were mullets everywhere you turned.
    After playing a couple games and exchanging greetings with the locals, we decided to go find Matt. Perhaps there were more interesting things to be found wherever he was. We crossed the parking lots of grocery stores and strip malls to reach Walmart, which we knew to be his most likely location. While there we paid a visit to the music section, put our money together, and bought the newest Metallica tape, then sat down to read the lyrics. We finally found Matt playing video games, and all three of us made our way back to the bowling alley, where Gail soon picked us up.
    The night was so cold that everything seemed crystal clear, magickal, and a little scary. The world suddenly felt very large. I remember every detail because that was the first time I had so wantonly and completely disobeyed all orders. We were free to do whatever we wanted, with no interference or adult supervision. A whole new world had opened up. The feeling of adventure and absolute freedom was amazing.
    When Gail pulled up we quickly piled into the car and made our way back to Lakeshore. Back at Jason’s place we all three went into his room to listen to the new Metallica tape and play video games on the Nintendo system and old television that sat on the dresser. I can’t remember who first suggested sneaking out, but we immediately seized upon the idea. Time seemed to tick by at an agonizingly slow pace as we waited for Jason’s mom and stepfather to go to bed. After the lights went out we gave them another hour just to be certain they were sleeping.
    We made our exit through the window in Matt’s room, because it was bigger than the one in Jason’s room. We could also step out onto the fence by stretching our legs out as far as possible, and from the fence it was only a short hop to the ground. Jason and Matt had both done this before and had no difficulty. I, on the other hand, got hung up with one leg inside and one leg outside. They decided to “help” me by yanking on the leg that was outside, and nearly crushed my testicles in the process.
    We had no particular destination in mind, so we walked the streets of Lakeshore for a while, leaving a trail of barking dogs in our wake. It was so cold that all the puddles next to the street had thin sheets of ice over them, and the streetlights sparkled on them like diamonds. I was giddy with excitement and considered Jason to be wise in the ways of the world for having done this before.
    We decided to pay a visit to the nearby train tracks, where Jason said there was a tree house in which people sometimes left bottles of wine. To get there we had to cross an empty field, and