Chapter 11: Carmine

The sound of the doorbell broke the tension and the silence that had fallen over Nancy and me. For my part, the shock of seeing her for the first time in all those long difficult years was so intense that I was struck speechless. What I felt and what seeing her did to me was going to take some time to figure out. I know the first thing I felt was pleasure. That was a strange reaction to seeing the woman who had changed my life so much for the worse. I expected anger, resentment, maybe a little pain; but the only thing that I recognized was the pleasure. I'm sure the others were there: as a matter of fact, I was positive of it since I had experienced them all after I had first seen them last night. But that was before I was this close.

As Nan turned toward the door and went to open it, I had a few seconds to catch my breath and calm myself down. I had to be very careful: I understood that my feelings were in chaos and my control was ragged at best. Sure, over the past five plus years I had learned control and patience, but those were for things I could control; things that were predictable and for which the rewards and consequences were clear. They never included wives, or ex-wives or children or any of those things that were part of a civilized life. Prison was far from civilized. It was dog-eat-dog where the strong survived and the weak succumbed and the result was a culture that worked. Those with a skill or a talent or some degree of knowledge that could be bartered into something better were the winners. The weak or the ignorant looked to those others for their survival, often at the cost of something more precious; their dignity.

I was one of the more fortunate and I had learned to take advantage when it was to my benefit. Compassion was not a survival emotion in prison and my compassion had been suppressed for a long time. My work at the clinic was slowly reviving that forgotten emotion and I was trying very hard to remember. But, this is how my mind was functioning now and would dictate my actions toward Nan as this first meeting progressed. I know that sounds cold and distant, but my reality for five years, six months and three days was an eight by twelve foot cell. My return to civilized behavior was not that easily accomplished for someone who lived alone the last year. And during that time, my only contact with society was via a clinic that treated those whose own reality was filled with pain and sadness.

As I watched Nan take the pizza and reach into her purse to pay the boy I remembered my manners and walked toward her. "Please, Nan, I ordered pizza since Ruben mentioned it was one of his favorites, but I should have asked you first and I'm sorry. Here, I have the money." I handed the boy a twenty and told him to keep the change. Money was not a problem for me with what I was earning at the clinic and with my meager lifestyle. I had money, but no real life!

Nancy had backed away and walked toward the kitchen with the pizza. I imagine she wanted the time as well to get a handle on her own feelings. Maybe this visit was a bad idea, but it was too late to worry about it now. Once the delivery boy had gone, I closed the door and walked into the kitchen where Ruben and his mother were already sitting down. I stood there for a second and then took the chair that was open. It was at the head of the table and that made me uneasy. That should have been Nan's chair, not mine. But, I was a guest and I had little choice in the matter since the only other vacant chair was holding the pizza box.