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“You gotta eat something kid,” John tells me again.
I can only close my eyes. Kid. Stanley hated when I called him that. I’ll never get to call him that again. Never get to see him grow, as a person, to the point that I would stop calling him that. Someone stole that, stole his life. And somehow I’m the one paying for it.
“I don’t even know if this qualifies as food,” I say.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t say I’ve ever seen anything on this tray in a food group, but you do have to eat it. It’s not like dinner is gonna be any better, so if you’re waiting around for a good meal to fill yourself on, you’ll be waiting a very long time. As in, until you get out of here.”
“Yeah, whenever that will be,” I murmur.
“Bail got denied, or too high?” he asks.
“Denied.”
I see him arch a brow at me out of the corner of my eye before he inquires. “What exactly are you in here for?”
It angers me to even admit. Makes my blood boil to have to say the lie they’ve found to get me in here.
“Murder,” I state low.
He whistles. “Well I never would have guessed that one.”
“Oh yeah? What were you thinking?”
He shrugs. “Drugs. Robbery. Maybe assault. But yeah, that explains the bail. Not letting a murderer out.”
I wince at the word, at that label, at the thought of someone actually seeing me as just that. Wondering if there’s any part of Mariah, however small, that believes I am that, that doubts my innocence. It would kill me if she questioned if I was even capable of this.
“I would ask if you did it, but well...” He gestures around the cafeteria. “This place is full of innocent men, if you know what I mean.”
“And you? What are you in for?”
“Well I actually am in for assault. Aggravated assault.” He chuckles when my eyes widen. “What? I don’t look like a bruiser?”
“Well, no. Did you do it?”
“Yup. Little punk assumed it was okay to put his hands on my daughter when she didn’t want them there, so I beat that assumption out of him.”
I nod. “I get that.”
“Alright, the suspense is killing me. Uh, no pun intended. Did you do it?”
“No. I didn’t even know he was dead until they arrested me.”
“That’s a bitch.”
“Tell me about it. Do you have a lawyer?”
“Yeah, my wife got one down here. I’m just waiting for my trial now. I’ve been offered two plea deals, but way I see it, I didn’t do shit wrong.”
“Yeah, I hear ya. Are your wife and daughter okay?”
“Yeah. They come visit when they can, but I don’t really like them coming here. I write more than anything, so money doesn’t have to go towards the phone calls. I lost my job when I got arrested, so my wife has to handle everything on her own.” Then he smiles. “But nothing can bring my girls down.”
“Lewis.” One of the guards calls out. When I turn my head towards him, he continues. “Let’s go. Your lawyer’s here.”
“Ah man. Now you can’t finish your nutritious meal,” John jokes.
“I’m pretty sure I saw a toenail in that rice,” I say as I get up.
John promptly spits his mouthful of rice back onto the tray as I begin to walk away. The guard cuffs me when I reach him, and I walk ahead of him as he directs me through the hallways. Finally, we reach a white room containing nothing but a brown table and two black chairs.
“You want him to remain cuffed?” The guard asks Terry.
“No.”
The guard removes the cuffs, and I sit in the other chair as he closes the door behind him.
“So bail denied,” Terry begins. “But we kind of expected that.”
“Still sucked to hear.”
“I know. But the prosecutor gave me the evidence an hour ago, and I’ll be pouring over every piece of it tonight.”
“So what’s the goal here? What’s the plan?”
“What I would like to see happen is we never even have to go to trial. I want to prove to the judge that the evidence in insufficient and get you released. Once a trial begins, all of that becomes a lot harder, because then it’s not about evidence, but getting a judge to declare a mistrial, which, in my experience, no judge really likes to do. I want to stop this before it even gets there.”
“And if we can’t?” I ask, and just the question has my heart sinking. But I feel like I have to prepare myself for the worst case scenarios here. I’m already in jail for murder. It’s not too far-fetched to dread that I might actually go to prison for it too.
“Then I do everything I can to make sure a jury sees through all the bullshit this case is built upon. But for now, I don’t even want to focus on that. We’re putting our energy into not even needing a trial. Now, I made those phone calls you asked me too. Although I do wish you would just let your parents deal with everything happening out there.”
I shake my head. “They already have enough weight on their shoulders with me being in here, and them being away from home for who knows how long. I want to handle as much as I can from here. But you saying that makes me think it’s all bad news.”
He gives me a tight smile, and I know I’m correct.
“Your landlord said he wouldn’t do anything right now, since you’ve already paid rent for this month, but that he won’t be renewing your lease next month either.”
“Of course. I guess I’ll just ask for a day out of here to come move my things,” I murmur.
“Hey, hey. Maybe you won’t even be here next month. I spoke with the developer, and he said he understands the situation and can put some time aside for you to get things resolved, as he put it. But that he can’t accept any major delays on the project.”
I blow out a hard breath. “And there’s no telling how much of a delay he could be waiting on if he continues with me. If I can just speak to the workers, I can get everything moving again. They already know the ins and outs of that project. If I can just give them the go ahead and a few instructions, they can get most of it done without me. Enough to keep the developer from pulling the project from us.”
He’s shaking his head before I’m even finished talking. “I understand why you want to, but you cannot talk to them. Any of them. If the detectives haven’t started already, they’ll definitely be interviewing them, just based off of the fact that all of them knew both you and Stanley. Anything you say to them can be misconstrued as intimidation or tampering with the case.”
I slam my fist down on the table. “Damn it. It took me years to get to this point, to get a project like this. And now I’m about to lose it all for something I didn’t even fucking do.”
“Now that is exactly what we can’t have happening Damir.” He points his finger in my face and I narrow my eyes at it. “Yeah, that. You can’t afford to go getting into any trouble while you’re in here. You do not have the luxury of letting your anger, however justified, overcome you. If you get into any type of trouble, they’ll use it to paint you as aggressive, a problem. As a killer.”
“I hear you.”
“No, I need you to understand me Damir. I’m doing my part and you have to do yours.”
He stares at me intently until I nod. Then his eyes move to my cheek, where I know a bruise is still there from my face getting slammed into the car. “How do those bruises feel?”
I shrug. “Still hurt like hell, but I guess I’m just hoping I don’t get any new ones.”
His eyes harden. “Unfortunately, because I’ve seen this happen so many times, the police tend to get handsy before the lawyers are called. Before they feel there’s any accountability. So yeah, let’s hope that’s done.”
He stands and smiles at me. “Well, I can end this with some good news.”
“I could definitely use some of that right now.”
“I called your parents and Mariah on the way over here, told them you can have visitors. They’re gonna come see you tonight.”
I thought that would make me feel so much better. I rushed to fill out the visitor form when it had been slid under the cell door, hoping to get to see their faces soon. But now that I know I will... I don’t feel the way I expected.
“I gotta admit, I kind of expected a smile for that one,” Terry says.
“I expected one too. I wanna see them of course, but...”
“You just wish it didn’t have to be here.” I nod, and he tries to console me. “It won’t be for long Damir. You have my word on that. I’ll come see you tomorrow after I’ve reviewed the evidence.”
He knocks on the window and an officer enters the room and motions for me to turn around so he can cuff me again. Terry gives an encouraging nod as I go, but it doesn’t stay with me long. Not as I walk through the hallways back to my cell, and it seems like each step promises me that I’ll be here for far too long. The question is will I leave here free or only to go to a worse place?
When I go into the cell, John is sitting at the desk, his back turned to the door. He’s usually there, pen flying across piece after piece of paper. Now I know who he’s writing to and it breaks my heart a little, imagining that that might be me, nothing but letters, expensive calls, and glass visits to keep me connected to the people I love.
“Can I borrow a piece of paper?” I ask.
“And what? You’re gonna give it back once you’re done?” John chuckles.
It makes me smile, just a little. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah.” He puts his pen down and gets me a piece of paper from the stack he has on the desk.
I take the paper and then awkwardly look at him. “Um, a pen too?”
“I figured you might need one of those. Now, this you are actually borrowing. Don’t run away with my pen.”
I look around the cell. “Where the hell am I going?”
“Who knows? You might trade it for some extra toenail rice.”
I bark out a laugh, and it takes me by surprise just as much as John, who stares at me with wide eyes.
“I hope that’s some actual joy, and you’re not on the verge of a breakdown or something.”
“Little bit of both probably.” I admit.
He tilts his head and turns back around. I sit on the edge of the bed, of course now realizing I have nothing solid to lean on to write.
“Here.”
Looking up, I find John holding out a book to me.
“Thank you,” I say as I take it from him.
“I’ll need that back too.”
I nod as I hunch over, putting the book on my leg, positioning the pen in my hand, then...pausing. I imagine all the things I’ll want to say to her tonight, but won’t want to through a glass. All the emotions I want her to remember she evokes in me. All the love and longing I have for her. Then I put them to paper.
