Chapter 5

I was doing what I usually did, actually always did, at night. I was wondering what my woman was doing, thinking, and it worried me. I’d reread her latest letter twenty times at least. She was fine. Briana was fine. Rodney was taking care of everything. Her job at the LLC was challenging, but good. She was ultra-worried about me, but glad to see that I was not having any trouble, so far, in that awful place. Oh, and she missed me.

It was almost like she copied the same letter every time she wrote me. Oh, there were other details. Briana was starting kindergarten. She, Riley, had had to go to the dentist for a wisdom tooth removal. But in the latest letter there was some good news. She would be coming up to visit me. I had so far had no visits from either her or Rodney though I had had visits, two, by my lawyer. That was partly due to the truth that the prison did not allow inmate visitors for their first six months inside, except by the inmate’s lawyer. But I’d been in for two years now, it was August of 1967 and I was desperate to see my woman.

I knew for a fact that she would be keeping her word about coming to see me, finally, because she was walking across the floor toward me right now.

“Oh my God how beautiful you are,” I said, stating the obvious. She was not smiling.

“And you are too,” she said, taking the seat across from me. “It is so good to see you.” We didn’t hug or touch or anything: max security did not allow for physical contact of any kind.

“Honey girl, I miss you so much. I cannot even adequately express how much,” I said. She could see that I was becoming emotional.

“Honey, I know it’s been too long. I mean it’s been too long for me to come up. It will not be that long ever again; I promise, she said.

“Okay. I will be looking forward to seeing you. I do miss you so. And now I was choking up.

“I am so sorry, darling, I am. It’s been a big transition for me from before: working at Rodney’s business, Briana getting to be school age, settling in at the mansion. And no, none of those are good excuses. I’m guilty of neglecting you, but never again.” I was nodding. I could see she meant what she said. I didn’t have the balls to ask when she might be coming again. But I had to believe that it would be sooner rather than later.

“Okay. I know it must be hard for you. And it is two hundred miles away,” I said.

“Hard for me! Like that would ever be reason enough for me to neglect a man like you. No, sir, it is not nearly as hard for me as it is for you. I know it. And I will fix it.”

“Okay,” I said.

“I do have some other news. Rodney will be coming up to see you soon too. He told me so just today before I left to come up,” she said.

“Okay, good, very good. I have kinda been wanting to talk to him a bit. Nothing special, just talk.”

“I’ll tell him. Maybe it’ll hurry him up.” and she smiled.

“My letters?” she said. I gave her a questioning look.

“They’re my life line,” I said. “I don’t know what I would do without them. Please, keep them coming.”

“Oh, of course,” she said. “I just don’t want to be too boring is all.” She smiled again, actually she laughed a little.

“And the job?” I said.

“Like I say in my letters. It’s all good. I have made friends with some of the other workers. We go to Abby’s sometimes. Have a drink or two before going home.”

“Well, good. I mean that you’ve been able to make some new friends.”

“Yes,” she said.

“Can I ask. Does anyone ever ask about or talk about me? I mean me being behind bars?” She looked down, sadly. I wanted to kick myself.

“Never mind,” I said. “None of that matters.”

“Doesn’t matter! Of course it matters, to me! But no, to answer your question. No one ever says anything about it. They all, pretty much all of them, know, but it is not a topic of conversation at the LLC.” I nodded.

“Okay, that’s good,” I said.

“Adam, I feel so guilty and so bad about what you are suffering. And that you are doing it for me. I will never be able to make it up to you, not ever. But I sure as hell will try. Especially once you get out of here.”

“Honey, the only thing that you ever need to do for me is to be there for me when I get out. That and that alone is all I think about, dream about. Someday...” I said.

“I promised you I would, and I will be here for you. Depend on it. And, in case there is any doubt in your mind, I think about it all of the time too.” I grinned.

“That first night, I mean the first night after I get out. No candles. We won’t need any of that. All I will need is you,” I said.

“And you will have me, and more than that, I will have you. Stay in shape; it’ll be a long night,” she said.

We talked until the siren sounded. She threw me a kiss and left. God I hoped I’d see her again soon. I needed to see her again. Oh my did I ever.

“So how did it go?” said Rodney. He seemed more than slightly interested.

“Good, and not so good. I could see he is ultimately lonely, and hurt because of the delay in my getting up there to see him. But with my pregnancy and then the baby and well, all of it. I was afraid to be going up there too soon.”

“Yes, and you were right in that,” said Rodney.

“I also told him a small lie. Well, I hope it was a small one.”

“Oh?” he said.

“I told him you would be coming up to see him soon,” she said. He gave her a look.

“Okay, that’s okay. I will make it not a lie,” he said, and smiled.

“Thank you, Rod. He does need to see us. Maybe kinda often.” He nodded.

“Okay. For you, okay,” he said. She gave him a look ... his tone.

Did I mention that time crawled? Well it did and was.

After my first visit by my woman, I started getting visits regularly. April and September by Riley and either January or February by Rodney. Three times a year. I was livin’ the dream.

And now it was November 1971 and I got me my monthly letter. One thing about that, the letters. I’d been inside going on seven years. Other inmates had let me know that when a man was sent up, at first he might get letters and visits regularly, but then after a while they slowed down. People on the outside got on with their lives and began to be neglectful. And while I had learned that such was generally true, it had not proven true in my case. It was kind of a matter of pride for me, and envy on the part of other inmates.

I’d survived, so far, without too much violence or abuse. I did find myself now and again on my knees in front of big guys with their pants down around their ankles and my mouth and tongue being used to give them relief. I’d finally complained about it to Horace who came fairly often to check on me. But he just looked down.

“Adam, it happens in here. I didn’t want to say it, but it’s better if you just cooperate so long as they don’t beat you up or...” he’d said.