Lifers

by Jane Harvey-Berrick

  Jordan had only just woken up, so I made her wait in the family room while I helped him get dressed. It was too painful for him to try and get a t-shirt over his head, so he was wearing one of Mikey’s old button down shirts. Gloria hadn’t objected when I’d raided the closet in Mikey’s room; she’d even helped me to wash the clothes I’d taken so they were freshened up after eight years of collecting dust.

  I left Jordan to zip up his own pants, despite his insistence that me helping with that was the best part of getting dressed.

  I headed back down to have a little heart-to-heart with Officer Carson.

  “I hope you’re not going to make him take a test for drugs,” I said, quickly, “because half the time he’s high as a freakin’ kite on all the pain meds, and I’ve been using alcohol wipes around his eye, so he’ll fail the EtG test, too.”

  “No, that’s fine,” she smiled. “Don’t worry, Torrey. In fact, we won’t worry about that anymore at all.”

  I didn’t know what she meant, but let it go when she looked up as Jordan walked slowly into the room, holding his ribs.

  “Hello, Jordan,” she said, standing up to shake his hand. “How are you?”

  “Fine,” he said, automatically.

  We both stared at him, taking in the multicolored bruises, the eye patch, his painful stance, then at the same time we both burst out laughing, Jordan joining in reluctantly.

  “Oh, crap!” he gasped, his laughter ending abruptly. “That hurt!”

  “Of course, you idiot!” I chuckled. “Sit down before you fall down and I have to scrape you up off the carpet.”

  “Well,” said Officer Carson when we were all seated. “I have good news. I came to tell you, Jordan, that you’ve been exempted from further drug and alcohol tests. It seemed appropriate, under the circumstances.”

  “That’s great!” I said, brightly. “Thanks! We didn’t want to have to traipse into town.”

  Jordan was silent, so I elbowed him in the ribs. He yelped and threw me a wounded look.

  “Oops, sorry! That was harder than I meant, but you’re supposed to thank Sandy!”

  Officer Carson smiled. “Don’t worry, Torrey, that’s fine. I’m sure it’s a lot to take in. But I do have a couple more pieces of good news: firstly, you don’t have to write your report this month, Jordan, and…” she paused for effect, “your parole officially finishes at midnight tonight. I pulled some strings.”

  We were both silent.

  “So that’s it,” she said kindly, correctly interpreting our silence as astonished shock. “You’re a free man, Jordan. Society believes you have paid your debt in full. It’s up to you now.”

  “Oh my God!” I said, flinging my arms around Sandy’s neck as tears pricked my eyes. “Thank you so, so much!”

  Jordan looked stunned.

  “That’s it? I’m … I’m free?”

  Officer Carson smiled and coughed a little, sounding choked up. I swear she was wiping a tear from her eye, too.

  “Yes, Jordan. You’re a free man. Congratulations.”

  She stood up and offered him her hand.

  My heart cried out as he stood on trembling legs. Then they shook hands briefly.

  “My job here is done,” she said, softly. “Good luck to both of you.”

  She smiled again, then I showed her to the door and waved as she drove away.

  Jordan was seated on the couch when I walked back in, his expression still stunned.

  “Wow!” I said.

  He seemed frozen to the spot.

  “Jordan, this is immense! You’re free!”

  I sat down next to him and wrapped my arms carefully around his neck, gently folding myself around his trembling body.

  He buried his face into my hair as sobs shook his body.

  “Free!” he said.

  Jordan

  It was impossible to take in.

  I knew I should feel like celebrating, but I just felt empty. For so long I’d been identified as someone outside of society: first as a convict, then as a parolee. But now…

  “It’s okay,” said Torrey reassuringly, later that afternoon.

  We were lying on the sofa together, Torrey curled up carefully next to me. Normally when we were like this, she’d be lying all over me. I missed having her head on my chest, and that soft, soft hair falling across my body. But it was too fucking painful to take her weight on me. Not only that, but just breathing hurt, I had a king-size headache, and my left eye was throbbing like a bastard. I was trying to ignore it all and concentrate on the TV. Torrey loved sci-fi programs and we were currently watching reruns of Star Trek: Next Generation. Well, she was. My mind was a million miles away. Yeah, ironic much.

  She looked across at me. “I can only imagine how surreal this is for you.”

  I nodded but didn’t answer. Honestly, I wouldn’t have known what to say.

  “It’s going to be okay,” she said, again. “As soon as you’re well, we can do anything we like, go anywhere we want.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  I didn’t.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll work it out.” She hesitated. “When are you going to tell your folks?”

  Dad had been out at work and Momma had been—who knows where she’d been. She stayed out of our way.

  Officer Carson had left three hours ago. I could have called Dad at his office but I’d held off.

  “I’m not sure I’m gonna tell them yet,” I said, at last.

  Torrey was puzzled. “Why wouldn’t you?”

  I shifted uncomfortably, trying to find a piece of couch that didn’t hurt like a bitch.

  “I just don’t want to feel … I don’t know. It’s like they’ll be expectin’ somethin’ else from me. I don’t want the pressure right now. Can we just leave it for a while?”

  She held up her hands. “Hey, it’s totally your call! I’m just happy and proud of you. I want to shout it out so everyone knows. But if you’re not ready for that, it’s fine by me. But, um, I did send a text to Bev.”

  “Yeah? What did she say?”

  Torrey laughed. “Well, her first text was just one word, at least I think it was a word. The message said ‘amazeballs!’”

  “Um, okay?”

  “And her second message said she wanted to come over with a bottle of champagne. Don’t worry. I told her no. Or rather, I told her not yet.”

  “I’ve never had champagne.”

  She stared at me.

  “Just beer and, um, vodka, some whiskey. Ryan had … there was red wine at his party. I remember that. But I don’t think I had any. So nope, no champagne.”

  “We totally have to put that right!” Torrey laughed. “You’ll love it. And it goes really well with sex. I think it’s the bubbles.”

  I started to laugh then my ribs reminded me that wasn’t a great idea.

  “Sorry, hon,” she giggled. “Oh, by the way. I talked to Hulk. He’d already heard, of course. He says the job’s there when you want it and that I should kick your ass some. Not sure why he said that but I think it was a term of affection.”

  I grunted, not wanting to think about Hulk and ‘affection’ in the same sentence. It was just too strange.

  “What about your work, sweetheart?” I asked, dreading the answer. “You cain’t stay at home playin’ nurse with me forever.”

  She sighed. “No, that’s true. But Gus gave me the rest of the week off.”

  “That sure was generous of him.”

  “Yeah, well it might have something to do with the fact that he’s shit scared of my boyfriend!”

  I grimaced. “I wouldn’t have thought he’d be afraid of someone who don’t fight back.”

  My tone was bitter, and Torrey threw me a look that showed she was still kind of mad at me.

  “Yes, but those days are over, aren’t they?”

  I guess they were.

  “Yeah,” I said, nodding slowly. “No free passes for anyone. Next time, I’m comin’ out swingin’.”


  Torrey smiled, satisfied with my answer.

  And I wasn’t lying to her. I wasn’t a parolee anymore: I had the same rights as anyone else. Well, almost. I wasn’t dumb enough to think that if I got into something my record wouldn’t be held against me, but it wouldn’t automatically mean going back to prison either. And as for Ryan and anyone else who wanted a piece of me, next time they would be the ones paying. I finally believed what Torrey had been telling me—my debts were paid. There was just one outstanding, and that was a debt to Mikey—the one where I’d promised him to live my life the best way I could. It would take a lifetime to pay, but I was good with that thought.

  The next day, we were visited by the detective from the hospital. Torrey said it was the same guy, Detective Lopez, but I didn’t remember. I was probably out of it at the time.

  Torrey offered him coffee. She was being thoughtful, but the idea of acting like I was fucking socializing with a police officer had me twitching and just about ready to leap out of my skin. I probably would have, if breathing didn’t hurt so damn much.

  “Hello, Mr. Kane. My name is Detective Lopez. I’ve already had the pleasure of meeting your fiancée.”

  I had trouble replying anything sensible. A police detective was calling me mister, that was just plain freaky. Plus, Torrey and me hadn’t exactly discussed the whole ‘fiancée’ thing. Truthfully, I was kind of hurt that she’d just used it to get information at the hospital. Maybe it didn’t mean that much to her, bearing in mind her views on marriage. Hearing the word should have made me happy, but instead I just felt a jolt of pain.

  The detective was still staring at me but my mouth refused to work; thankfully, Torrey took over.

  “Thanks for coming, detective. I’m assuming you have some news for us?”

  He sat on one of the armchairs and leaned back. “Well, yes and no. Ryan Dupont has admitted to the assault, as you are aware, but refuses to name his accomplices. I want to know if you’ll be pressing charges—either of you.”

  I glanced at Torrey. I’d seen the bruises on her arms, and that had made me madder than hell, and I felt guilty that she’d gotten hurt because of me. She folded her arms and stared back. She knew how I felt about this and we’d discussed what I was going to do. Or rather, not do.

  “No,” I said, quietly. “I won’t be pressin’ charges.”

  “Miss Delaney?”

  “No, no charges.”

  There was a short silence.

  “I see,” said Detective Lopez. “May I ask why?”

  I let out a long, painful breath.

  “He was my brother’s best friend.”

  In the end, out of all the things I could have said, out of all the explanations I could have given, that was the simplest answer for a stranger to comprehend.

  Lopez nodded.

  “In that case I won’t take up anymore of your time. Mr. Kane, Miss Delaney.”

  He stood up and offered his hand. I stared at it, nonplussed, until Torrey cleared her throat. I stood up, too, and tentatively shook the guy’s hand.

  Torrey saw him to the door and when she came back, she brushed a soft kiss over my lips.

  “What’s that for?”

  “Do I need a reason?”

  “No, sweetheart, never.”

  She smiled. “I think it’s because this means it’s over, so I sealed it with a kiss.”

  “I love you, Torrey Delaney.”

  “I know,” she said, and threw me a wink.

  The next three weeks were boring as all hell, if you discounted the fact that it was pretty tense in the house having Momma and Torrey in the same building, even when they weren’t in the same room. They were civil to each other, but there was no warmth there. Torrey was kind of distant toward my dad, too, which was a shame because they’d been getting along so well before. I thought it was probably because I was mad at him for letting Momma come home, but if there was another reason, I wanted to know why.

  After being uncharacteristically evasive, Torrey finally told me I was right, but it was also because she’d found out that he’d called her ‘trashy’. She was really hurt by that, and I was furious that Momma had taken pleasure in telling her. I already knew what he’d said, of course, but of all the things that Momma had hurt me over, telling Torrey, that was one of the hardest to forgive. If she’d just aimed her spite at me, I could have taken it, but not when she hurt the woman I loved.

  I knew that Dad was ashamed of what he’d said, and Momma had been trying to make it up to me—to us—but somehow it had cut the final cords that bound us together. I had a new family now with Torrey.

  She had to go back to work in the end. One of us needed to be earning an income, and I was as useful as a suntan in Siberia. I missed her like crazy and sent a million texts to her each day. I spent the rest of my time reading some, although that was tiring with just one good eye. I listened to the radio, occasionally watched TV. Other than that, I slept a lot.

  Momma didn’t try and force her company on me, although she shopped for food, made sure I got meals at regular intervals, and just kind of kept things ticking over. But I’d lost my appetite since being in hospital, and chewing with a fractured cheekbone wasn’t the most fun thing ever. I had a lot of soup, and mac and cheese.

  Momma drove me around for those few weeks. It was awkward. We didn’t talk much. I don’t think either of us knew how to. I guess we tried.

  One afternoon, she was driving me to my appointment with the eye surgeon guy at his office, but stopping off at the junkyard first.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked, tentatively.

  “Fine.”

  There was a long pause.

  “Good,” she said, at last. “Torrey seems…”

  When she didn’t finish the sentence, I glanced across expectantly.

  “She seems good for you.”

  I don’t know if it meant to sound like she was choking on the words, but it did.

  “She is,” I replied, shortly.

  End of conversation.

  She turned into the junkyard’s entrance and parked near the office.

  I needed to see Hulk and tell him I wouldn’t be coming back to work for him. I could have phoned, but the guy had done a lot for me and I owed him.

  Momma waited in the car while I went to talk to him. He was sitting behind his child sized desk, dwarfing it as usual.

  He stood up when he saw me, shoving his chair into the wall. Then without speaking, he wrapped his massive arms around me and squeezed tightly.

  “Don’t break my damn ribs again!” I yelped.

  Hulk released me with a snort of amusement. I didn’t think it was that funny. I was healing well, but it was still a work in progress.

  “Good to see you, kid!” he said. “Heard yer still kickin’. Guess it was the truth.”

  “Yep. Cain’t kill weeds, man.”

  He looked at me appraisingly.

  “I figured you’d be along. I’m guessin’ ya come to say your goodbyes.”

  “Yeah. Me and Torrey will be headin’ out in a couple of days. Fresh start, ya know.”

  He nodded, staring at me from behind his bushy eyebrows.

  “I just wanted to thank you, man,” I said, feeling a little awkward at doing the emoting thing with Hulk. “If you hadn’t given me a job, hell, I’d probably be coolin’ my heels back in prison right about now.”

  “You gettin’ soft on me, kid?” he asked, rumbling out a laugh.

  “Maybe.”

  He chuckled to himself.

  “That’s the effect of women for ya. Gotta say, your girl’s fine. She can ride a horse in my string anytime. Look after that lil’ firecracker—got yesself a good ‘un there, kid.”

  “I know. Thanks, Hulk. I won’t forget you.”

  He cleared this throat a couple of times, and then he handed me an envelope.

  “A little travelin’ money, kid. And a reference, jest in case ya get another job as good as this ‘un.”
/>   We shook hands, and he clapped me on the back again.

  “Vaya con Dios, kid.

  He didn’t come out to the car, but I could see his massive silhouette framed in the doorway. As Momma drove away, he raised one hand in a salute.

  I looked in the envelope to read his reference, but was amazed when I counted $1,000 in hundred dollar bills. I hadn’t expected that, but I knew exactly what I wanted to spend it on. It wouldn’t go for gas money, but I thought Hulk would approve the way I was planning on spending it.

  In his own way, Hulk had done more for me than my own parents.

  I was still thinking about some of the good times I’d had at the junkyard, when we arrived at the doctor’s office for the last of my weekly checkups.

  I was suddenly aware that I hadn’t spoken a word to Momma since we left Hulk’s. Maybe she thought I was punishing her, but I wasn’t.

  I appreciated her doing stuff for me, but I realized that there was too much water under the bridge for us to have a real close relationship ever again. I was okay with that, and I think she was, too. But at least she didn’t act like she hated me anymore, and I didn’t act like I needed her to. We were good, sort of.

  Two weeks after Carson had come to see me, I’d finally admitted to my parents that I was no longer on parole. They’d been quiet, not saying much. Dad said ‘congratulations’ and shook my hand. Momma looked like she was going to cry, but I didn’t ask the reason.

  I climbed out of the car and turned to look at her. She was staring straight ahead and didn’t seem inclined to move.

  “I guess I’ll be about 30 minutes or so, Momma.”

  She gave a staccato nod, and I left her sitting there, still gripping the steering wheel.

  I didn’t have to wait too long to see the doc.

  It was a month after the eye op now, and he did all the usual checks and seemed pleased with the way it was all going. Better still, he gave me the go-ahead to drive, but only for short distances. I still wasn’t allowed to fly because of the altitude, but even that would probably be okay in a couple of months, and it wasn’t like I was planning on vacationing in Hawaii anyway.

  I seemed to be a little more sensitive to light in that eye, which kind of sucked, living in a real sunny part of the country. Maybe I’d have to go live in Alaska after all. Or maybe not, I didn’t think I could handle the glare off of the snow. Torrey bought me some Aviator Ray Bans. I nearly bust a gut when I found out how much they cost. She just laughed.