The stone and brick walls of the federal prison where always cold – winter, spring, summer, and fall. It didn't matter if it was one hundred degrees above or below; the walls stayed pretty much the same. Perhaps it was the building itself that made them seem so dark and cold – after all it was Kansas State Penitentiary and it was winter.
For William Hatton and Eric Fowler, this would be the last day they would have to walk the corridors and follow the routine they have done for the past ten years. Today they would be free men again. Both men stood in front of the prison warden Hopkins.
Hopkins slowly stood up from behind his desk, "Gentlemen. Today you start your new lives. I trust that you have learned how to be better people now that you have been through this system," he looked at the men while he clasped his hands behind his back. He sauntered out from behind the desk and stood before Hatton and Fowler. Both men nodded to answer Hopkins' question. Hopkins pursed his lips and studied each man, "I also trust that you will be able to put your new skills toward finding a decent job," he said as he turned away and walked to the door where two guards stood.
Hatton and Fowler starred forward and nodded again.
"Excellent," Hopkins smiled. The warden then ticked his head and the two guards opened the heavy wooden door and ushered the two prisoners out into the corridor. The only sound heard was that of their boots in the darkened corridor. They slowly made their way down the long hall to another office where they were met by a clerk who handed the men their street clothing and footwear. "You can change into these," he handed the men their clothing. Without a word form either man, they took their clothes and slipped behind a screen and quickly changed.
The two guards remained in the room with the clerk. Hatton and Fowler finished and stepped back into view. Hatton was the first to hand back the black and white stripped uniform that was his for ten years. Fowler followed. Both men kept their hats in their hands out of curiously and discipline they we made to learn.
The guards then escorted Hatton and Fowler to the front gate where another guard stood. Both men produced their paperwork and handed it to the guard at the gate. He read the forms and looked at each man, "Good luck," he said handing the pages back to Hatton and Fowler before he motioned to another guard to open the massive front door of the penitentiary.
Hatton and Fowler quickly stepped through the gate then watched the door close behind them. Hatton placed his hat on his head and looked at Fowler as he pulled tight on the light jacket he wore when he entered the prison, "Let's get out of here," he said as he walked across the street with Fowler in tow. They both needed winter coats and the few dollars they earned would be enough to buy them their coats and more.
Fowler stopped and looked into a shop window, "They sell coats in there," he pointed out. Hatton looked through the glass and shook his head, "They cost too much," he stated. "There has to be another place around that sells coats," he motioned for Fowler to follow him up the Kansas City street and further away from the penitentiary.
It was getting on toward supper time and the two men finally stopped at a general store which was located near the train station. Hatton and Fowler entered the store and casually looked round when Fowler stopped at a rack of coats.
The woman clerk in the store walked over to Fowler, "Can I help you?" she asked.
Fowler jumped. It was the first time in more than ten years he'd heard a female voice. Fowler stammered as he looked at the clerk and then to the coat. Hatton smiled as he walked over to the clerk, "We're in need of coats," he said as his eyes scanned the woman from head to toe.
"These are all we have," the woman pointed out.
"I guess beggars can't be choosers," Hatton said.
"They are all three dollars," the woman said as she eyed the two men. Hatton nodded, "We'll each take one," he said pulling some money from his pocket. He hoped to be able to afford some thing for supper as well as train tickets west. Hatton handed over the money and nudged Fowler to take a coat. Hatton, himself took one off the rack and pulled in over his shoulders, "Where's a cheep place to grab a bite?" he asked the clerk.
"Just across the street," the clerk pointed out. "The food isn't too bad. At least it will fill your stomachs on a cold day," she smiled slightly.
Hatton tipped his hat and moved to the door. He slowly turned back, "When's the next train leave for Wichita?" he asked.
The clerk shrugged, "I don't know. The schedule should be posted at the station," she pointed out the door.
"Thanks," Hatton said as he and Fowler left the store.
"What do you want in Wichita?" Fowler asked as he walked along the boardwalk next to William Hatton.
"Nothing," he said under his breath.
"Then why are you going there?" Fowler asked in a hushed voice as he noted the look on Hatton's face.
"It's going to get us closer to Pratt," Hatton stated. Fowler stopped in his tracks and looked at Hatton who had also stopped. "You want that sheriff, don't you?"
Hatton said nothing, but the look in his eyes said it all. "I've wanted him for ten years," he sneered. Hatton's eyes looked over to the train station and an evil look came across his face.
"Look, Will. We just spent ten years behind those rock walls," Fowler whispered.
Hatton's eyes came back to his friend, "That's right. And the way I have it planned, we wont be going back," he smiled broader. Slowly Eric Fowler began to smile and he nodded as the two men headed to the railway station to find out about the schedule.
Hatton stopped at the wicket, "Hey, you!" he called through the metal gate.
The old man behind the wicket turned, "What can I do for you?" he asked.
Hatton looked at Fowler and then back at the little man with the visor on his head and glasses perched on his nose. "We'd like to get to Pratt. When's the next train out?" Hatton asked.
The clerk looked up at the chalkboard and squinted at the times, "Looks like it will be leaving in twenty minutes," he said as he looked back at the two men.
"Here's some money," Hatton said as he frantically dumped the money he had out on the counter, "Take what you need for two," the pushed the money through the arched opening at the desk level.
"Whoa, sonny. I don't need that much," the man said as he picked through and took what he needed. He pushed the rest back, "This is yours and here's you tickets," he smiled.
"Thanks," both Hatton and Fowler said as they scooped up the money and the tickets and went to wait for the train instead of eating for they were hungry for something else.