Elegy - Chapter 24

By the time I got back to the prison, there was no one around. It was after lunch and they were all out in the yard, which was apparently a large open area where prisoners could get some exercise. Because I was late, I wasn’t allowed to go join them, so they just stuck me back in the open dormitory.

I found my bunk and sat down, feeling hopeless. A million dollars. Where was I ever going to get that? If I didn’t, I was going to be stuck in this place where people were already seemingly intent on hurting me. I’d been happy to see Hanna and Kat, but had still hoped that Sydney would have been there too, in spite of her father’s words. With Mom gone, I felt untethered and really needed to know I still had people out there supporting me; because in here, I felt so alone.

I sat there for maybe twenty minutes, staring at the top bunk, alternating between hopelessness that I’d never make bail and repeating the memory of Mom hitting her head on that counter. Mr. Eaves had convinced the guards to let him get me something to eat at the courthouse, because I’d missed breakfast and lunch. I don’t know if it was the food itself or my current emotional state, but my stomach rumbled the whole way back. I tried to ignore it, wanting to wallow in my depression, but eventually, I had to go find the restroom area.

There was a small closed-off area with a couple of shower heads and toilets with no doors on the stalls. A guard followed me into the room, even though I was the only one there. Maybe it was policy that a guard had to be around the door area whenever someone went in there, to make sure no one was doing anything they shouldn’t be. I would have thought they’d just have cameras in here, but maybe because of the showers, there was some law saying they couldn’t do that.

I finished my business and was washing my hands when I noticed something was off. The guard, who should have still been standing in the doorway, was gone. I turned off the water and was about to hurry back out to the dormitory when the big guy from yesterday appeared around the corner, flanked by his buddies. All sorts of questions popped into my brain, wondering how they’d managed to get the guard out of the way and me alone in this closed-off area, but I pushed them back. There were five of them, and I was in serious trouble.

At least my ribs were feeling better today, and I had some movement back that had been missing the day before. I was going to need it.

They fanned out, blocking any escape route. They were sizing me up. While I’d put on a fair amount of muscle over the last two years, I was still a lot smaller than any of them, both in bulk and height. I could see them come to that conclusion, a predatory smile spreading across the leader’s face.

“I think it’s time you learned your lesson,” he said.

His buddies chuckled ominously on either side of him. I put my weight on my back foot, tensing up. There was no way of getting out of it this time. I scanned the room quickly, but there wasn’t anything that I could use to defend myself. Everything was bolted down, probably to keep prisoners from doing exactly what I wanted to do, which was to use them as weapons.

They, unfortunately, weren’t as unarmed. The leader and two of the guys had empty hands, but both of the guys on the outside had small, sharpened pieces of plastic that could do serious damage if they stabbed someone.

“There’s no need to do this,” I said, struggling to keep my voice even, holding up my hands in a placating gesture. “I just want to do my time in peace. We don’t have to be enemies.”

“Don’t we?” their leader said, his eyes glinting dangerously. “You should have just agreed to pay us. Too late now, though. You’re still gonna pay, but now, you’re gonna do it as a lesson to everyone else to show them what happens if they don’t pay their rent.”

The others snickered, closing in around their leader. I took steady breaths, calming myself, finding the calm center I needed to bring my focus in. This wasn’t a schoolyard fight, and I wasn’t looking to just grapple with someone, keeping them from hurting me. Chef had made it clear that when my life was actually in danger, the rules about containing myself and limiting what injuries I caused were off. I was to fight, and I was to fight to win. My only goal was to incapacitate, either long-term or permanently, the person trying to seriously injure me.

The leader bellowed as he charged, swinging a meaty fist at my head. I ducked under it and kicked out, catching him hard in the knee. The kneecap popped out in an unnatural direction, giving his leg an abnormal look. He howled and stumbled forward as I slammed my elbow up, directly into his dropping chin. Blood arced across the white tile as he fell backward, falling down hard.

I moved, using his body as an obstacle to the guys on the right. The guy who’d been next to the leader paused, seeing the damage I’d done, but the one with the shiv lunged at me. I grabbed his wrist, twisting until he dropped the weapon, then kicked him in the groin. As he doubled over, I smashed his head into the metal urinal. He dropped like a sack of sand, his face half lying in the bottom of the urinal.

The guy who froze got his wits about him and charged, I punched out with my fist, catching him in the throat. He grabbed at his throat and stopped, but I didn’t. Bringing my leg up, I kicked out from the knee, and used my hip to add power. My leg shot out like a piston firing, catching him square in the chest. He shot backwards, straight into the fourth guy, the one without a shiv, knocking him down.

The guy with a shiv stabbed out at me. I slapped the stab to the left, past my body, and grabbed his wrist as it passed. Using his momentum, I lifted his arm up, so it was straight with his elbow on the bottom. I slammed my right hand up hard against the elbow as I pulled the wrist down again. I could hear the arm break even over his scream of pain as he released the makeshift knife.

One left, who was just scrambling out from under the guy who was still holding his throat. The leader and the guy in the urinal were solidly unconscious, but the guy who’d been on top of him was still clawing at his throat, desperately trying to get air, while the fourth was holding his shattered arm, whimpering. It was enough for him; he turned and hightailed it out of the bathroom, almost running into a guard who came flying around the corner from the other direction.

The fight had been as short as it was vicious, lasting maybe a few seconds, which meant the guard must have been standing just outside the restroom area while these guys tried to stab me. He looked at the guys on the ground and then at me, pulling out his radio.

“Backup!” He screamed and then pulled the radio up to his mouth. “Injuries in dormitory three. Four men down, one attacker.”

“They attacked me, I didn’t …”

“Shut up!” he screamed. “On the floor, hands on the back of your head, feet apart.”

He didn’t move to restrain me, but I could hear boots pounding on the floor, already heading this way. I was all but certain that if I didn’t comply, I was going to get the crap kicked out of me by guards. I complied and lay down on the floor, but for a beat, he still didn’t move.

Then more guards appeared, and they were on top of me. A knee slammed into my back, another on my side, pressing on my bruised ribs, a third on my leg. An arm pressed down hard on the back of my neck, making it hard to breathe as my arms were wrenched behind me, and handcuffs were attached to my wrists. They may not have been hitting me, but I still felt like I was having the crap beaten out of me.

They were just starting to check on my fallen attackers when I was hauled up and dragged off my feet, practically carried between two guards, out of the restroom.

Once again, I’d defended myself and was taking the fall for it.

They didn’t haul me back to my bunk, but out of the dormitory and down a series of hallways to a separated, barred-off area, throwing me into a tiny room with a single, large metal door with a small window that had a flap that looked like it could be locked and a small ledge on the outside. They took the cuffs off and pushed me into the room so hard that I slipped and fell, hitting the floor just as the door slammed shut behind me.

For two days, or at least I thought it was two days, I stayed in the tiny little room. I was allowed out into this small, maybe ten-foot by ten-foot concrete area with walls on all sides but no ceiling for ‘outdoor time’ two times for an hour each time. According to the guard, who took me out the first time, they could only keep prisoners confined twenty-three hours a day, so I based my estimate of two days on the two trips I made to my own personal ‘yard.’ There was a basketball and a hoop, but that was it. Instead of doing that, I ran around and tried to stretch my legs since I really couldn’t do that in my tiny cell, which was barely big enough for me to lie all the way down in, let alone do more than jog in place.

I’m sure the guards thought I looked crazy practicing forms out there by myself, but it let me stretch out my muscles, which helped me from going crazy. Other than that, every minute was spent in my tiny cell, including all of my meals which they slid through the small window with the lockable flap built into the door. While I’m sure this was normally bad for anyone who had to be in here, it was worse for me. It gave me too much time to think and nothing to serve as a distraction. I spent nearly every waking minute thinking about my mother. Replaying all the ways I could have handled the situation with Dad better.

I’d been passive in just about everything, reacting instead of acting. When he was still living with Mom, she hadn’t wanted me to push too hard or cause him too much trouble, so I hadn’t. After he got arrested at my emancipation hearing, I’d held back from trying to do more than just let the system take care of him and hoped they would hold him for a long time because I was afraid if I pushed Mom to do more, it might undo the progress I was making and ultimately send her back to him.

I should have gone harder at him, tried to get him arrested every time he did anything, instead of just getting him to back down and then leaving things be. I’m not sure I could have gotten him arrested for pulling money out of the band account, since legally Mom had access and she’d been the one who pulled out the money, but I still should have tried, no matter how much Mom protested.

Instead, I’d done nothing. As soon as things went back to the status quo, I’d left it alone. Hanna disappeared with Troy? Leave it alone if she’s talking to us. Sydney agreeing with her father not to be there when I was arraigned? Leave it alone as long as we went back to the way we were once I got out.

I needed to stop this. I was done letting people walk all over me. I still wanted to do things from a place of empathy, so I’d need to handle situations like what was happening with Sydney and Hanna with care. It would make standing up for myself harder, since there needed to be a balance, but I needed to find it. However, when I didn’t need to operate with empathy, such as when dealing with Mr. Packer or Aaron’s father, I was done trying to be reasonable. I was ready to start lighting shit on fire.

I knew, of course, I couldn’t just work myself up. I had to be smart about it. Strategic. I couldn’t become my father and just do everything from a place of anger. I spent a lot of time in my cell meditating, trying to find my center and really thinking about my problems in a calm, collected manner.

Aaron’s father and Mr. Packer. They were going to be my first order of business when I got out of here. They’d been making my life hell all year, and I was just about done with it.

Near what I thought was the end of day two, my cell door opened, which surprised me. The guard waved for me to come out and told me to follow him but didn’t give me any more information. My mind went in all kinds of directions wondering where we could be going.

Was I about to get more charges put on me for hurting those guys in the restroom area? I hadn’t heard anything since it happened, but I was sure there’d be repercussions, even if I was defending myself. Was this something else? The guard who’d followed me to the restroom to keep watch over me had suspiciously disappeared when those guys came in to beat on me. I’d thought they had been out in the yard when I went in the restroom and the dormitory was still empty when the other guards hauled me out, so why were they allowed inside? The conspiracy theorist in me considered that maybe they, or even someone else, had paid off the guard to allow them to attack me. Was this going to be more of the same?

Surprisingly, it wasn’t. I was led to a small out-processing room where the guard informed me that someone had made bail. He didn’t say who, and I couldn’t come up with any names of anyone who could have gotten a million dollars to put up to get me out.

Finally, they let me change back into the clothes I’d been wearing when I came in, which were still cut up and ripped from the fight, browned bloodstains all over them. They were still better than the prison jumpsuit, though.

When I stepped through the doors, the first person I saw was Chef. He stood there, looking as calm and collected as always in his usual attire of slacks and a button-down shirt. I was so surprised to see him that I stopped just outside the doorway, rooted in place, staring at him slack-jawed. He had a completely different reaction, however. His face lit up in a way I don’t think I’d seen before, and he strode quickly over to me, pulling me into a hug. I barely returned it because my brain couldn’t come up with a reason he was standing there.

“Chef?” I asked incredulously when he released me. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to take you home,” he said.

“Home? But my bail. Did you … how …?”

“I couldn’t leave you in there. Charlie, I haven’t had a chance to say it yet, I’m so sorry about your mom. She was a good lady, and we’re all going to miss her.”

“Thank you,” I said, but I was still stuck on understanding how I got out. “How did you post my bail? It was a million dollars. No one has that kind of money.”

“It was cash or bond, and the property the restaurant is on is worth quite a lot. It took time to find a bondsman who’d agree to let me use it as collateral, though. I’m sorry we left you in there so long,” he said calmly.

Way too calmly, actually. That place was his whole life. I’d be freaking out if I was him.

“You put your restaurant up? Chef, you can’t do that! If something happens and I don’t show up for court, they’ll take the restaurant!”

Chef placed his hands on my shoulders, forcing me to stop moving around, all jittery, and look at him.

“It’s just a building. You are worth more than any building. Besides, I know you, and I know you’d move the world to make it to your court date, so I’m not even worried about it. You’re a good kid, Charlie, and no one should have to experience what you’ve already gone through, let alone sit in prison over it.”

I opened my mouth to argue but closed it again. He’d clearly thought about this and made up his mind, but I couldn’t help feeling guilty over it. He was right, though. I couldn’t imagine anything that would keep me from making my court appearance, especially with his restaurant hanging in the balance. I loved that place, and I’d do anything I had to do to make sure he didn’t lose it.

Chef smiled and clapped me on the shoulder. “Now, let’s get you home. You look like you could use a good meal.”

All I really wanted to do was get home and take a shower. I hadn’t had one since they threw me in solitary, and my clothes reeked. We grabbed some food on the way home, and I thanked Chef numerous more times, still in disbelief he’d do something like this for me.

I was starving, though, and debating which I wanted to do first when I got inside: eat or take a shower. It was only as I got to the door that I realized I didn’t have keys on me. Just as I started to contemplate that, the door swung open to reveal Kat and Hanna on the other side.

“What are you guys doing here?” I asked, confused.

It was late afternoon on a Wednesday. Kat should have been at swim practice, and Hanna should have already gone back to Chapel Hill. I knew she’d stayed for my arraignment, but I’d thought she’d go right back to school after that. I mean, even with what was going on with me, she’d still paid for this semester, and it was a lot of money. She couldn’t just walk away from it because I was in trouble.

“Chef told us he was bailing you out today,” Hanna said, pulling me into a hug.

“We wanted to be here when you got home,” Kat said.

Still reeling from what Chef had done, I was shocked they’d both done this, so they had to basically pull me inside while I reeled from all the surprises today. Kat sat me down at the table while Hanna got me a plate for my food.

“How are you holding up?” Kat asked.

“I’m …” I started, then shook myself to collect my thoughts and tried to actually act like a person. “Honestly, I’m mostly just exhausted. It’s … hard to sleep in there, especially after they put me in solitary.”

“You were in solitary?”

“There was a fight. Some guys, I guess, decided I’d make a good object lesson to show they ran the place and came at me. That was right after the arraignment, and then the guards shoved me in solitary after that. It was so small and claustrophobic, I had trouble getting comfortable enough to fall asleep.”

“That sounds awful,” Hanna said. “Charlie, we’re so sorry for everything that’s happened, especially about your mom.”

I still hadn’t dealt with it. I knew that. I spent a lot of time in prison thinking about her, but it had felt almost distant, as if it had happened to someone else. I knew I probably needed to deal with my feelings about what happened, but I couldn’t. With everything else that had happened, I just couldn’t find a way to feel anything about it.

I did, however, still feel things about my friends, the most prominent right now was worry that they were going to get themselves into some kind of trouble.

“What are you doing here, though?” I asked again. “Shouldn’t you be back in Chapel Hill, and shouldn’t you be at swim practice?”

“I couldn’t go back to school with you in jail. You need us here with you. Not only do you have to deal with these charges against you, but your mother just died. You need your friends with you. I’ve already talked to the school administration, and they said there should be something I can work out to take a leave of absence so I can stay here. I’ll have to repeat this semester, but I don’t care.”

“Hanna, you can’t do that. That school is costing a ton, and you’ve already put so much work into this semester. Your business group is making such good progress.”

“I can and I did,” she insisted stubbornly. “My friend needs me right now, and that’s more important than whatever we paid for tuition or how I’m doing in my classes. I’m staying as long as I’m needed.”

I looked to Kat, hoping for some sanity.

“Please tell me you’re not doing the same thing.”

She gave me an apologetic look and said, “I told the coach I was going to miss several weeks of practice. I’m already on hold with the swim team to prepare for trials, so I’m not missing much. Coach was pissed, but it’s a family emergency, and we’re paying him, so what can he do? Hanna’s right, this is where we need to be right now.”

I stared at them in disbelief, torn between feeling incredibly grateful to have friends like this and worried they were about to ruin their futures to help me.

“You guys,” I said, shaking my head. “You can’t do this. Hanna, you’re doing so well at school. Come on, you can’t throw this semester away.”

“I’m not throwing anything away,” she insisted. “You need me more right now. School will still be there when this is over. You won’t get a second chance at this. I can retake classes, but I can’t get you back if they send you to jail.”

I looked at Kat, hoping she would at least see reason.

“Kat, you have Olympic trials coming up in just a few months. Missing weeks of practice now could screw up your entire training schedule. You’ve worked your whole life for this chance, and I’m not going to stand by and let you mess that up for me.”

“My training schedule will be fine,” she argued. “I talked to my coach, and we’re going to adjust my training schedule. I wouldn’t even have the nerve to try to make the team if it weren’t for you, Charlie. I’m not going to abandon you when you need me most.”

They were both so frustrating, and yet, I couldn’t be mad at how loyal and loving they were being towards me. Of course, I also couldn’t let them throw away their futures because they felt like they had to be here.

“Guys, I really appreciate the support, and I love both of you so much, but it’s okay if you keep living your lives. I’m not alone. I’ve got your mother, Chef, and Mr. Eaves here to help me get through this. And Kat, you won’t be training all the time. This isn’t going to wrap up in just a few days. As far as I can tell, this is going to take a long time to work itself out, and most of that will be spent waiting for the next step. You guys can support me and still pursue your own goals.”

Hanna shook her head and said, “Charlie, I can’t just go back to school and act like everything’s normal while you’re dealing with this. We should be here to help you and support you.”

“She’s right,” Kat added. “How are we supposed to concentrate knowing what you’re going through? We’ll be worried sick about you the whole time and won’t get anything done anyway.”

“Guys, I appreciate both of you, I really do. But this is going to be complex and messy, and most of the time I’m just going to be waiting to hear from Mr. Eaves. You two putting your lives on hold to wait with me doesn’t make any sense.”

“But what if it doesn’t go well and they send you to prison?” Hanna asked, her voice wavering as she spoke the words.

“One, from the way Mr. Eaves explained it, I wouldn’t go to trial until summer, at the very earliest, and maybe not until next fall. These things really do take a lot of time. And two, if I do go to prison, what, you’re just going to spend the rest of your lives sitting here, missing me, and visiting me every day? Do you know how much worse that would make me feel? I am so incredibly proud of both of you, and everything you two feel about wanting to support me is how I feel about wanting to support you. You say you can’t stand the idea of going back to living your lives when I’m dealing with this, well, I can’t stand the idea of me sitting around, waiting for something to happen, while you two put your lives on hold. So maybe, let’s all take a step back and avoid going to extremes. I think we can all agree that none of us want to see any of the rest of us miserable or upset, right?”

“So what do we do then?” Kat asked.

“We’ll find a middle ground. You continue with your swimming and make me proud, and come home at night to hear me complain about all the crap going on with my case,” I said to Kat and then turned to Hanna. “And you, go back to school. You still have to learn everything you can so you can come back and manage my career. How can I get big and famous without you? Call me every day so you can update me on whatever project you’re working on, and I can vent about the same things I just complained to Kat about. That way, you both do what you need to do, and I don’t have to worry about you. And you both help support me. Twice, in fact. So really, I’m getting the best deal here.”

Hanna and Kat looked at each other, and for a moment, I worried they were going to continue arguing.

Thankfully, Hanna sighed and said, “Fine. I’ll go back to school. But you have to promise to call me every day.”

“Absolutely,” I said, relieved that she agreed. “And I want to hear about everything that’s happening out there. What’s going well, people who aren’t pulling their weight, how your grades are, what parties you go to … everything.”

“Okay, deal,” she said, giving me a serious look. “But I’m holding you to those calls. I expect one at least every other day. If you start missing calls, I’m coming right back.”

“Yes, ma’am. Every other day at a minimum. I promise,” I said and then turned to Kat. “And you promise me you’re not missing any more practices. No more talk about limiting or changing your practice schedule.”

“But …”

“No buts. Promise me, Kat. I can’t have you blaming me if you don’t make the cut for the Olympics because you were too busy babysitting me.”

She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest, and said, “Fine, I promise. But you have to promise that if you need anything, you’ll tell me. Don’t try to handle this all on your own.”

“I promise,” I said, grabbing one of each of their hands across the table.

As worried as I was about what was to come, knowing I had friends like this made it a little easier to face. They were willing to sacrifice for me, and even though I wouldn’t let them, it meant the world.

“Okay. As hungry as I am, I think I need to go take a shower before I eat anything. I can smell myself and it’s bad.”

“It really is,” Kat said, wrinkling her nose.

“We’ll be here when you get back, and you’re going to tell us everything that happened over the last few days.”

“Sure,” I said.

Not that I particularly wanted to relive my jail experience, but it might help me to get some of it out and I wanted them to know I was serious about keeping up my end of the deal.