Chapter 4

She was tapping her fingers on the eight-by-two oakwood table situated under the picture window that faced out on to the sprawling front lawn and the long driveway that flanked it. She saw him drive slowly up towards her, towards the almost patio-like front porch. He parked and came up and into the house.

He plopped down in the big recliner he sometimes used to read or watch movies on the seemingly theater size TV screen across the room.

“Not good?” she said, sensing his mood. He shrugged.

“Neither good nor bad. But we do have to talk,” he said. “Oh yeah, talk is definitely on the agenda.” She nodded. It was clear the news was mostly bad regardless of the man’s words.

“Let me guess, he never wants to see me again. He hates me,” she said.

“In reverse order, he loves you with all his heart, his own words actually. And, I’m here to tell you; he meant them. And, he is willing to see you, let you visit him anytime you like. He does say he doesn’t have much to say to you, but will listen to anything you have to say. I had the feeling that he wants to hear about Barbie more than anything else, and maybe how well you’re doing. Those were clearly important things to him. But, that said, he doesn’t want to talk much about his situation or really how he feels about you or Barbie or me or anything else really,” he said.

“So, he isn’t cutting me out of his life, then,” she said. The man looked down. He looked up.

“Once he gets out, he doesn’t ever want to see you again. He thinks it would be too hard on him,” he said.

“Doesn’t he realize how grateful I am to him for everything, how infinitely grateful!” she said.

“Oh yes, again, his exact words actually. He says he knows your grateful, and oddly he wants you to be. He thinks that if you feel grateful you won’t diss him or say bad things about him behind his back. But what he doesn’t want is for you to feel guilty. He doesn’t blame you for anything that went down that day. He blames the bad guys; and in that I agree with him a hundred percent,” he said.

“Diss him! Say bad things about him! Like that would ever fucking!” she screamed. The man nodded.

“And when he gets out? I need to do for him when he gets out!” she said.

“He maybe is willing to accept my job offer. But he says he will never accept it, or quit once he starts if he ever sees you. He says that seeing you would invade his dreams worse than they already do, and make it impossible for him to ever get over it all. He needs you to be a fading memory, so he can start anew.

“Will he soften his position over time? Will time harden it, his position? I don’t know. I don’t think he really knows.

“As for Barbie. He definitely wants to be around for her, physically around her. Maybe a lot. But what he doesn’t want is for her to know about that day; that’s set-in stone. I disagree with him. I think that when she gets older, maybe a lot older, she needs to know, but he says no, and we have to respect that, at least for now,” he said.

“Shit!” she said.

“When you go to see him, do not pressure him to talk or to forgive or forget or do anything whatever. He has to set the agenda. Tell him everything he wants to know even if he doesn’t exactly ask for you to. And, yes, that means you’ll have to be a bit of mind reader. Read his eyes, his body language. Let the man set the agenda even if he doesn’t know he’s doing it. That might be the key, in the long run, of cutting you some slack. And, Stephanie, it will be the long run. Maybe the very long run,” said Herbert. She nodded.

“Okay,” she said. “So, what else.”

“He complained about his friends never having been around to see him. And, he says he has no family left.

“I assured him that we were his family, and convinced him, I think, to put some of his old friends on his approved visitor list. I think he will,” he said.

“Anything else?” she said.

“Like I said, he sort of insinuated that his dreams, nightmares really, were of you and me getting it on. I could understand that. One day, he or we will have to see about getting him a woman of his own. But for now, I think you and I have to prove that one thing he said was true,” he said, and he smiled. Then she smiled.

He got up from the recliner and crossed the space to the couch. He stretched his hand out in front of him inviting her to join him. She got up from the table and did so.

She slid in next to her man and laid her head on his shoulder. He leaned in and kissed her oh so gently.

“I love you Mister. I love you to pieces. You saved me. You are one of my two saviors. I’m yours forever, sir,” she said.

“As am I yours,” he said. His hand slid down her arm and brushed her breasts, also gently. She let her hand fall to his thigh just inches from the bulge in his pants. She began to unbuckle his belt and then to unzip his pants. He rose up slightly to allow her to pull his pants down. The bulge in his jockey shorts threatened to break through the cloth. She grasped that bulge and squeezed the muscle hard.

“Excited are we?” she said.

“You have no idea,” he said. She smiled.

“Oh yes I do,” she said.

She stood and slowly, very slowly, disrobed. He watched mesmerized, licking his lips continuously in the process. Her nakedness now complete, she giggled as her man struggled in his hurry to match her state of undress.

Soon they were entwined with each other feeling, tasting, pushing, pulling. Finally, she pushed him back and knelt on the couch with her butt towards him. He for his part got down on his knees behind her and licked and sucked at her secret places.

Finally, standing, he pushed himself into her and ruthlessly slammed in and out of her; a man taking his she as he was meant to do. He stiffened and spewed his seed inside of her. She shook violently in answer to his attack.

“My God that was good,” he said, collapsing onto the floor.

She lay back on the couch, her knees pulled back into her bosom.

“Hmm,” she said. “I really, really feel for our man right now. Is that bad of me?” she said.

“If it is, I’m as bad as you are,” he said. “And yes, I think we are a little bad, there’s no getting around it.” He didn’t see her, but she nodded.

Well it was February of ‘95, and I finally got the papers announcing my divorce from the love of my life. It was a very sad day for me. I didn’t sign them. I didn’t even read them. I didn’t need to. Whatever they were going to do to me or presumably for me, I had no power to resist or influence. I could beg them of course for this or that, especially in terms of my baby girl. But that would be essentially a useless exercise. So, I just endured, and waited. I wondered what my so-called soon to arrive nephew would think in the future when he learned of my existence. Well, that didn’t matter either. When one got right down to it, nothing mattered. We, all of us inside and outside, endured and that was the totality of it all. The only difference was that some were enduring more comfortably than others.

My daughter was twelve. I wondered if the other guy would be adopting her. It wouldn’t matter, not much at any rate. I kinda figured he would, but, maybe not. We’d be seeing.

Things were better than they had been before; but then, they weren’t. Marcus, my cellmate was murdered. It happened in the showers. Now I was scared: scared like I’d never been scared before.

It took the chulos exactly three days before they beat the hell outta me and raped me. This time it was three of them. I tried to just surrender and let them do me, avoid the beating, but they weren’t having any. And beat me they did. I would be a month in the infirmary this time. And yes, Allison Hill was the nurse on duty during the day shift. Well, there’s an upside to everything.

“My God, Jack what the hell!” she said.

I couldn’t speak too good, but I tried. “I had to do something to get back to see you,” I said, my smile no doubt a trifle forced.

“I will speak to the warden about this one. This is bad, Jack. We have to get you out of C-block, and over to B-block at least, less violent offenders in there,” she said. I smiled. I wasn’t getting transferred. I was an ex-cop the worst of the worst from every perspective: the bad guys and the administration—which were also quite often also the bad guys.

And then it was a month and a half month later. I had been discharged from the infirmary after three weeks. I’d been out for almost four weeks. I wasn’t transferred to B-block, well I knew that that wasn’t going to be happening. Still, I also wasn’t being beaten the hell out of and raped seemingly every other freakin’ Tuesday either. At least for the present. I had to think that might have been the influence of Allison, but I didn’t know for sure. It was the end of April, and I got another visit from the man. I was sure I looked a little the worse for wear, but hell it was what it was.

“Jesus, Jack, are you all right?” he said, plopping down across from me in the meeting hall.

“Define all right; it’s prison man. It ain’t nice in here. Oh, and I got the divorce papers. Thanks for thinking of me. I mean you guys sending those along. Anyway, got any more questions?” I said. I was mortally curious what he was here for, but I didn’t want him to know it.

He shook his head. “The baby was born a couple of weeks ago, and you do have a nephew, and a family; I mean if you’ll allow,” he said. “Oh, and his name is Jack Jr.” he said.

“Hmm,” I said. “That it?”

“Man is there anything I can do for you? I mean anything. It’s clear to me you’ve been beaten up pretty bad,” he said.

“Yeah well your powers of deduction are freakin’ amazing,” I said, and I was being sarcastic. “But, since you ask, you can get me transferred to B-block; it’s a bit less violent in there.” And, I laughed.

“I’ll work on it,” he said, and he wasn’t smiling when he said it.

“Yeah, well do; it would be most appreciated. Being beat the hell up and being the female for the bad guys around here regularly is getting old,” I said.

“Shit! You mean... ?” he stopped talking. He knew the answer.

“It’s prison man, it’s bad,” I said. “Oh, I already said that didn’t I?” He nodded. He looked down, he looked up, and he looked down and up again. He was making me dizzy.

“Jack, I know this is going to sting, but I’m here to tell you. Stephanie and I are married. She didn’t want me to tell you, she wanted to do it, but I figured it was better coming from me than from her,” he said.

“Well, thanks, and you are right. It would have been real hard hearing it from her. You were right on that score,” I said. He nodded.

“Anything you want to say, tell me? I’m ready to hear it. Really man,” he said.

“No, I expected it. It’s still a stinger as you said. But I can’t do anything about it, so thanks for coming by,” I said. I got up and left him sitting there.