Jail Cell Love Affair - 8. Spreading the Bad News

Fred was escorted back to his cell. It wasn't free time yet, so he just sat there in his cell, considering what the news meant. If he gets out in about three months, everything he'd gone through with Mo will be for naught. His thoughts ranged from simply having to get used to it, to what could he do to stay for fifteen more years. At dinner, he told Mo that he had news from his lawyer but didn't want to talk about it in a crowd. Once they got back to the cell block, they sat down in Mo's cell, and Fred started to tell Mo the news.

"So, I had another visit with my lawyer this afternoon."

"Yeah, you said that much at dinner. What happened?"

"I'll have to give you a few details about what I was sent here for."

"Sure, I'm listening."

Fred thought for a moment, "Actually, it might be easier if you just read the trial transcript. It was a very short trial. One second, let me go get it."

Fred came back with a folder containing less than a dozen pieces of paper.

"Damn, it must have been quick. There's not much here."

With a nod, Fred agreed, "The ADA figured it was an open and shut case. My lawyer thought reasonable doubt was a foregone conclusion. You can guess who was closer to guessing right initially."

Fred waited the fifteen minutes it took Mo to read the transcript.

"Yeah, I guess I can see both points of view. Your story sounded made up, so the ADA had a head start. But yeah, reasonable doubt all over the place. Nobody followed up on the foreign DNA?"

"That's where it gets us to where we are today. One thing that's not in there is the jury voir dire. The guy that ended up as the foreman, Bully, was our next-door neighbor. We didn't really know him, and Watson only had one challenge left. The guy in the pool after the neighbor was throwing daggers at me the whole time, so he used the last challenge on him, accepting the neighbor."

"The judge should have excluded him."

"I guess the fact that we didn't know him at all allowed the judge to overlook that. Or maybe he just wanted to overlook it. But that's not the weird part. This guy Bully was recently arrested for raping someone else."

"Shit. His was the foreign DNA."

"Exactly. So, Mark, my lawyer, said that I'll likely be released after Bully's trial, which will include both the newest rape, and Stephane's murder. When he's found guilty, I'll be released."

"So, why aren't you bubbling over with happiness?"

"Us."

Mo shook his head forcefully, "Us? Us was never going to be long-term. Damn, keep thinking like that, after another three months with me here, you'll go nuts when you're released."

"Yeah, I've been thinking about that. Maybe I'll attack a guard or something and get fifteen years added on for that."

Mo was flabbergasted. The shock on his face could light the prison for a week; or power two electric chair executions.

"Don't even fucking think about that. I thought you were smart?"

"I am. I guess."

"After making a comment like that, your perceived I.Q. went down a hundred fucking points. Maybe even all the way to zero. You have a chance to get out of a place like this, you take it. It's completely fucked up to think otherwise."

"Mo, I've fallen in love with you. There's nothing for me out there."

"Fuck that. Life is out there. You'll get a job like you previously had."

"I've been disbarred."

"With the conviction vacated, you'll apply for reinstatement. There's no way they can refuse."

"But the worst is, I'll be alone."

"Not for long. You'll find someone else. You're a great guy."

Fred had to take a breath so he wouldn't yell it out, "I don't want someone else. I want you."

"That train has left the station. You need to talk to your lawyer again, get him to convince the Warden to move you into the minimum-security wing."

Fred couldn't believe his ears, "What? No. I don't want to leave you."

"This is all too new for you. You're not thinking straight. You have to start forgetting about me. The sooner you do that, the easier it will be out there."

Fred is sobbing now, his words getting all jumbled, "B-bu... I wa-wa... can't do that."

"I'll help. Get out of my cell."

"What?"

"You heard me. Get the fuck out. Don't make me call a guard, or even carry you out myself."

"Come on. You can't do this."

Mo stopped answering, stood up, and turned away. Now crying, Fred stood up on wobbly legs. He had to hold himself up by the bed, the sink, and grab hold of the bars on his way out. When he got to his own cell, he just flopped down on the bed and continued crying. He never noticed that Mo was crying quietly himself.

At breakfast the next morning, Mo continued the silent treatment. Whenever Fred tried to say something to him, Mo would look away, and not respond. The rest of the guys couldn't figure out what was going on. They knew Mo and Fred were close, and if they believed what Dennison said, they were romantically involved. Of course, nobody said anything, but rumors started flying about. Two days later, after dinner, Mo called everybody on their block and floor together. He wanted to shut everybody up and get the rumors squashed.

"I'm sick and tired of everybody speculating what's going on in my life. Since none of you can butt out, I'll give you the facts. You probably all know that Fred and I were together."

Fred looked up, shocked at the word 'were.'

"Fred's going to be getting out in about three months, they caught the guy who actually did the deed."

Murmurs abounded. 'He's really innocent?' 'Fucked by the system.' 'Damn, that sucks.' And another dozen things close in meaning were said if anybody could have heard it clearly.

"So, Fred and I are through. I can't make his suffering worse after he gets out, so I ended it."

"Damn, Mo. Like, I'm sorry for you having to give up, shit, I'm risking a beating saying this, giving up a boyfriend. But geez, Fred. Wake the fuck up. You're going back to the real world. No offense to you Mo, but you don't need someone like Mo dragging you down."

"Yeah, Natters. You're about an inch away from that beating. Or you would be if you weren't completely right."

Fred slipped away, going back to his cell for another crying fit. The rest of the group broke up as well. Most of them in disbelief that Fred got screwed so badly. Others were floored by Mo's admission, essentially that he was gay. Many of them were pulled in both those directions. Mo went back to his cell, sad, but able to control his emotions somewhat. At least well enough to not cry loudly.

Two weeks of total loneliness and distress later, Fred was summoned to the Warden's office.

"Sit down Jamers."

"Yes, sir."

"Your lawyer is on his way, but I need to get the ball rolling on this."

"Can I ask what 'this' is?"

"I understand he's bringing papers ordering your immediate release. Apparently, you're innocent of the crimes you were sentenced for."

"I am, yeah, but that's like still, like over two months away."

"Something has changed. I'm sure your lawyer will have the details. I only received a standard release order. Congratulations. Mr. Faines will escort you back to your cell to gather up any personal belongings, then you'll be put in a Min-Sec cell until all the paperwork is settled. Let me be the first to apologize from the state of Texas for its mistake."

"Thanks, but I don't want to be moved."

"Sorry, it's protocol, and only for a few hours. Innocent men cannot be held in anything other than minimum-security once it is known their release is imminent. You should be happy to get away from that group."

"I know you'll find this hard to believe, but they're my friends."

"I do find it hard to believe. But this is the way it is. Neither one of us has a choice in the matter. Mr. Faines, get a box for Mr. Jamers, and take care of his move."

"Yes, sir."

Fred stands up and is very nearly dragged out of the Warden's office. After a quick stop at a supply closet, they're back in the cell block. Faines stands outside the cell while Fred packs his meager belongings. Mo motions Faines over.

"What's going on?"

"Jamers is being released."

"Already? I thought he had to wait for some guy's trial to be over."

"Guess not. I don't have any details."

"Can I have a minute alone with him before you take him?"

"Sorry, Mo. You know I can't do that."

Fred walks out of his cell, carrying a box with very few items in it. He looks at Mo as he passes by, the tears in his eyes blurring his vision. He doesn't see the tears in Mo's eyes for this very reason. Mo puts his hand through the bars to shake Fred's hand.

"Sorry, Mo. Can't do that either."

"Damn. Bye, Fred. I will miss you."

To keep from bawling his eyes out further, Fred just nods and walks away. He hopes he'll be seeing Mo again.

A little before three PM, Fred is moved to a different holding cell, really just a room with a locked door, near the exit. Mark Watson steps in.

"Why am I getting out so soon?"

"Williamson pleaded guilty to murder-two to avoid the needle."

"Too bad."

"Well, happy you're getting out?"

"No."

"What? Why not?"

"Mo."

"Oh. Well, that part of your life is over. Onward and upward. We're not driving back to Galveston tonight. I got us two rooms at a local motel.

"I'm not going back there."

"What? Why not?"

"Is my apartment still vacant?"

"Um, no I don't believe it is."

"Are my belongings anywhere I can get them?"

"I believe everything was donated."

"My car?"

"Repossessed."

"So, there's nothing there for me. I'm not going back; I'll just settle around here somewhere."

"Um. Okay. You'll be free and a man without a record in a few minutes. I guess I can't make you do anything."

"That's right, you can't. Once we walk into that motel, we're done."

"Sure, Fred. Whatever you say."

They went to pick up the belongings he came in with, wallet, cell phone, now useless keys, clothes, and a watch. Fred walked back to the holding area, changed, dropping his prison uniform on the floor. He considered pissing on it but came to his senses. Two minutes later, they were in the cool mid-November Texas sunshine. Fred followed Mark to his car, having not said another word to him. The same held true until they were checked in at the motel and separated to head to their rooms. Mark held out his hand.

"Good luck, Fred. You can call me if you change your mind about going back."

Shaking his hand, "Thank you. But I won't. See you."

Fred found his room, used every ounce of self-control he had to not tear the room apart, and fell flat on the bed. Once again, crying. Later, since he had fallen asleep, he missed the dinner hours at the motel's attached restaurant. He asked the woman at the front desk where the closest place to eat was. He went to the little Mexican restaurant down the block and ate quietly by himself. Fortunately, he had cash in his wallet. His MAC card was denied, as were the three credit cards that he tried.

The next morning, he arranged for a ride to the closest branch of his bank, which was about a half-hour away. He packed all his things in a trash bag from the motel, checked out, and headed to the bank. He showed a bank officer his release papers, his, thankfully, still valid driver's license, and was able to get a replacement MAC card. He could now access his unfrozen funds. There was a mall a short walk away. He went there to buy a new charger for his phone. He found a place to sit for a while so his phone could charge up a little. He called the closest rental car company, which fortunately had pick up service, and rented the cheapest car they had.

He'd been on the inside for a little over four and a half months, including county jail time. He'd forgotten a lot of what he'd probably need to do to start over. Obviously, a place to stay would be next on his agenda. There was a cheap motel, one with a number in its name, very close. He booked a room for that night. He felt a day was plenty of time to find something more permanent, perhaps even one of the hostels in Houston, which wasn't that far away. He checked into the motel and started looking for a job using his phone. That proved to be very tedious. Fortunately, there was a Wal-Mart in town. Well, isn't there one in every town? He went there and bought a cheap laptop. He returned to the motel and continued his job search.

After saving a few, very un-exciting job prospects, and one that wouldn't be horrible, he cranked up the word processor and tried to remember everything he'd had on his resume the last time he needed one. Then he remembered he had pretty much everything on his LinkedIn profile. After that, the resume building went fast. He submitted his resume to the jobs he saved that allowed a resume to be submitted and filled out the on-line application for the others. The last item he took care of before lunch was to log into the state Bar website and see what prospects he might find there. He clicked on one extremely interesting post. He may very well be going back to Galveston if he was lucky.

Next up - "Some Surprising Turns of Events"