Jail Chronicles, Chapter Fourteen

Released.

I barely allow myself to believe it.  I know I still have to go back to G-pod, and pack my things.  They will be calling my name to bunk and junk.  I am not the only one going home that day, and I tell myself I can wait it out, and let everyone go first.

Once back in the pod, there is much celebration and I Told You So’s at the news I have been released.  I head straight to my cell and pack up everything I own.  A box full of papers, and the property I was issued.  It seems as if everyone else is leaving first. I finally beg Peggy “Please, I want to go home”

She calls my name and says the magical phrase, which is really silly, she knows I’m standing at the door packed.  I grab my things, walk up front and wait among the others as my papers are processed.  I am given my clothes and allowed to change into them.  I hand over my oranges, glad to be rid of them.  My clothes are loose on me now, and wrinkled and no longer appropriate, but there is not a trace of orange on them.

I am handed my paperwork, my purse, and escorted out to the lobby.  I am within feet of freedom.  Just beyond the double set of doors.  I stop on my way out to buy a soda and I walk out the door into the sunshine. 

I sit on the curb, drinking my soda, enjoying the sunshine, the caffeine and the freedom. I turn on my phone, and ignore all the messages.  I have just three phone calls I want to make. I dial his number. I don’t know if he’s at work, if he’s home, if he can come get me, or even if he’ll answer the phone, but I call, if for no other reason than to hear his voice.

I call Batman. 

Batman: Hey
Me: What are you doing?
Batman: I’m getting ready to leave..
Me: Where are you going?
Batman: Home.
Me: Would you come get me and take me home too?
Batman: Where are you?
Me: Free.
Batman: I’m on my way.

I am free, and going home.

.

 

Jail Chronicles, Chapter Thirteen

You don’t sleep well in jail, and when you do sleep you don’t dream much. You certainly don’t dream of home.  But last night my mind had done nothing but run over a never ending list of things I needed to do once I got out of here.

It is Wednesday, May 21.  Today is my arraignment.  I will stand before the judge today, have my charges read to me, and ask for a bail reduction. Or maybe to be released on my own recognizance.  I don’t even dare to hope.

They call the girls for morning court.  My name is not on the list.  What if my name isn’t on the afternoon list either?  What if the judge says no?  I can’t even begin to think that going home today might actually happen.  And yet, in the back of my mind is the thought, the hope, I will talk to Batman today, I will call my girls, I will sleep in my own bed.  But I never allow any of those thoughts to take hold.  If I have learned nothing else while I’ve been here I have learned that nothing is certain, and nothing is guaranteed.

Lunch comes and there is no way I can eat.  I pace the upper tier, and worry.  I don’t dare even pack so much as a piece of paper, afraid that any outward sign I think I’m going home will jinx it and I’ll be stuck here forever.

A CO comes to the pod door, calls my name. Inside I am frozen with fear, outwardly I walk to the door as if it’s no big deal.  He hands me a stack of papers.  I look at them and realize the girls’ dad has filed a motion for custody.  I had always half expected it, but to see it here in black and white is a gut punch I’m not sure I can handle.  I blow it off as casually as I can, telling myself there is nothing I can do today. Tomorrow I can think about it. Today is all I can do.

The CO comes for the afternoon court transfer, and I am on this list.  I line up with all the others, and wait as we are all cuffed and shackled to walk from one building to the other.  For a minute, I am outside again, shackled to other inmates, but still, outside. This time there is sun, but I can’t allow myself to enjoy it.  I can only be in the minute, and I can  only focus on getting to court and in front of the judge.

Everyone around me is so sure I’ll go home, I am still just too afraid to hope, let alone believe.

And then, they call my name. I am led through a door, to stand before the judge.  He asks my name, mumbles something about my charges and some other things to the gentlemen standing beside me and we’re done.  I had to stop and ask the judge, “Your Honor, what just happened?” 

“You have been OR’d, you are being released”

I am going home.

Jail Chronicles, Chapter Twelve

Tuesdays are transport days.  The Federals all hope it’s their day to go.  Even if it only to a courthouse, and on to another jail, or even prison, it means outside, if only for a minute.  We have two that are sure they are on the list to leave. 

I didn’t know then, and I don’t know now why it is jails choose the middle of the night, or early early morning to transport people.  Whatever the reason it is almost always 4:30 AM, and this day was no different. 

The pod knew we could be losing two of our own this morning.  We all slept lightly, waiting to hear ‘bunk and junk’.  Their excitement to be leaving meant their departure was loud and heard by everyone. 

I watched them leave, saying a silent prayer for them, “Let them find friendly faces wherever they end up tonight. Let there be a bunk for them, and cellies who are nice enough. Let them find friendly faces.”

I guess I should have been more specific.  At 6:00 that night, the two who had left that morning were returned to us.  They had in fact met friendly faces where they had ended up that night. They would try again in the morning.

Jamie would tell us that apparently all this sitting around, sleeping all hours of the day, and eating a shit ton of junk food bought from commissary, had caught up to her.  Her clothes that she was wearing when she came in four months ago, no longer fit her.  They had to find some left behind sweat pants. 

Just another day in jail.