Phillip Margolin - Fugitive

Most of his interviews had focused on the prison standoff, and Charlie had been vague when an interviewer asked him about his past. He hadn’t started working with the ghostwriter who would actually write his book, either, so no one knew what he was going to say in his autobiography. Charlie spent the next month revising the outline his agent had suggested he write. By the time he met the ghostwriter, his autobiography contained accounts of knife fights and bare-fisted brawls, in which Charlie emerged victorious, as well as murders and other illegal endeavors. In his introduction, Charlie explained that the details of these incidents had to be kept vague because of potential criminal liability. There were also hints of a childhood in which he had been physically-and perhaps sexually-abused. Charlie knew that this would make his innocent parents look bad, but they were dead, and anyway, wouldn’t a parent be willing to tarnish his or her name a little bit if it helped their child succeed in life after a rocky start?

Of course, the book had an uplifting ending. Charlie talked about the Inner Light” that had infused him during his near-death experience, and how being filled with this light had led him to renounce crime and vow to help everyone else on earth find their own Inner Light”. Getting a trademark for this phrase was another idea of Mickey Keys’s.

There hadn’t really been any light, inner or otherwise. Charlie didn’t have a clear recollection of what had happened during the insane moment when he’d thrown himself between the guard and the shiv. The inner-light business had been Mickey’s suggestion, too. Well, not an outright suggestion, more a “memory” of Charlie’s that had been elicited by some very pointed questions, such as “Did you have any religious experience when you were stabbed? You know, some people who’ve had near-death experiences claim to see a blinding light. Something like that? That would be great, because talk shows love it when you have a religious conversion or a near-death experience.”

Charlie announced the formation of Inner Light, Inc., at the press conference heralding the publication of The Light Within You , which had been hurried into print while the action at the prison was still fresh in the public’s mind. At that conference, Charlie also announced that henceforth he would refer to himself as Gabriel Sun, a new name that would commemorate the death of the bandit Charlie Marsh and his rebirth as a bringer of light.

Charlie’s autobiography became an instant best-seller. It began in his deprived childhood, detailed the way poverty and abuse had made him a criminal, and explained how his experience with his Inner Light while saving Larry Merritt-and Warden Jeffrey Pulliams’s belief in him-had restored his faith in the goodness of man. Charlie told the attending media representatives how he looked forward to holding seminars in the cities on his book tour so he could help troubled people find their Inner Light. There would be a nominal fee for attendance but, Charlie promised, the benefits to an attendee’s personal and spiritual development would far outweigh the price of admission.

The seminars and the concessions that hawked Charlie’s book, CDs featuring Charlie’s words of wisdom, T-shirts, and other Inner Light paraphernalia produced a river of cash. Charlie had made a living swindling people out of their money, and he found a kindred spirit in Mickey Keys. The agent and his new client began sending the cash in the accounts of Inner Light, Inc., to secret bank accounts in Switzerland as quickly as it came in. Mickey, who had an accounting background, worked up a second set of books for the IRS, and Charlie and Mickey’s real financial picture looked very healthy even as it appeared to be anemic in their ledgers.

Charlie held his seminars at each stop on his book tour. They were attended by members of the middle class who longed to be wealthy and successful, and people with wealth who were troubled by their success. If the opportunity presented itself, he would fuck any rich woman who wished to purge her guilt by servicing an all-wise and dangerous ex-con. On occasion, he would have sex with one of the less well off groupies who hung around his book signings. That’s what he was doing after a very lucrative seminar at Yale University when he was startled in mid-thrust by Mickey Keys’s unannounced entry into his hotel bedroom.

“What the fuck!” Charlie shouted, furious at being interrupted. The coed he’d been banging was as delicious as a peach and as tight as a drum.

Keys ignored Charlie and turned on the television. “Watch this.”

“It better be great.”

“It’s better than great, Charlie. Now, pay attention.”

It was night on the screen. Flames could be seen flicking out of a few barred windows, and the spotlight of a police helicopter illuminated the prison grounds and the National Guard and state troopers massed before the high walls.

“Why did you need to interrupt the best fuck I’ve had all year to show me a prison? I’m trying to forget prison.”

“You’ll want to get reacquainted when you hear my idea. This is a shot of the Oregon State Penitentiary. Early this morning, a fight erupted between a Latino gang and members of the Aryan Brotherhood. When guards tried to intervene, several were taken hostage and the fight turned into a full-scale riot.”

“What’s your point?” Charlie whined, upset that his boner had begun to wilt.

“We’re going to Oregon, where you will offer your services as a negotiator to help end the insurrection at the prison.”

“Oregon? I don’t even know where the fuck that is.”

“The national press knows where it is. This is the lead story on every network and all the cable news shows.”

“Mickey, you don’t know squat about this kind of shit. The authorities aren’t going to let me anywhere near the prison.”

Mickey smiled. “That’s probably true but you’ll get tons of free publicity if they do. And if the governor won’t let you talk to the rioters, you look like a good guy who’s just trying to help. No matter how the riot ends, you come out smelling like a rose and you get tons of free air time.”

“What about the book tour?”

“I talked to your publisher. They agree that you should go. They’re already setting up a seminar at the home of a lawyer who published a book with them.”

Charlie lay back in bed. The coed was clutching a sheet to her chest and listening intently to the conversation.

“All right, when do we leave?”

“In about two hours.”

Charlie smiled at the girl. “That gives us enough time to finish what we started, sweet thing.

“Turn off the set and let me get back to my business,” Charlie told Keys.

The agent shook his head and left the room. Charlie felt under the sheets until he found a hot, soft place between the coed’s legs.

“I see you haven’t cooled down.”

The coed rolled over until she was breast-to-breast with Charlie.

“Fuck me hard, Charlie,” she whispered, “and when you’re done, take me with you to Oregon.”

“What?” Charlie said, pulling away a little.

A hand wrapped around his penis.

“I’m wasting my time in college. I’m so unhappy here. I want you to teach me the path to inner peace.”

Charlie wasn’t in the mood for a philosophical discussion. He also didn’t want this broad tagging along to Oregon, even if he had been sincere when he praised her sexual abilities to Mickey Keys.

“I hear you, sister, but…” Charlie started, when the soft, rhythmic motion of her hand made him forget what he was going to say.

“Please, Charlie, let me come. I’m smart. I can help, and there are other things I can do for you.”