by Simon Palmer
TWELVE
JOHN AND I were walking the yard.
“Where are the guards?”
“They watch from air conditioned rooms and only come out when officials are visiting.”
“You said they were lazy.”
I noticed some scratch marks and faded blood stains high up on a wall. “What happened there?”
“An inmate must have tried to escape. I saw a guy use two suction devices like the ones used to carry glass sheets to help lever himself up. He reached half way before being spotted by a blue shirt.”
“What happened to him?”
“The blue shirt called a guard. He was ordered to come down, but didn’t. They shot him in the leg, he fell and later in the cell, he removed a blade from a disposable razor, slashed his left wrist then wrote a suicide note on the wall with his right hand – in his own blood. Suicide is really common in here and nobody bats an eyelid.”
I was about to comment when ‘Bald Guard’ appeared and called me over. I turned to John and smiled. “That must be my dad.”
“Good for you mate. Get out of here.”
I followed the guard and was taken to the interview room. A guard on the other side ushered someone in but it wasn’t my dad who’d come all this way to see me; it was my grandfather.
He took a few steps towards me, sat down, placed his hand on the mesh and waited while I did the same. His eyes flickered back and forth between where our palms faced, only the mesh between us. We picked up a phone with our other hand.
“I saw that in a movie, but it’s usually a glass partition. What are they trying to pull in here?”
It was lovely to see him. He could take a tragic situation and make it funny. I loved him for that.
“How’s the food on your side?”
“It’s terrible. I’ve lost weight.”
“I can see that, you look grubby too.”
His smile faded to a frown. “Listen, I’m not sure how much time we have. I know what happened and I sympathize but if this goes to Court, you could be stuck in here for ages.”
“Where’s my dad?”
“He’s here in Bangkok. He had an accident.”
“What happened? Is he okay?”
“He was hit crossing the road, but he’s fine. He just can’t move around too much.”
“Was he drunk?”
“He’d had a few.”
“Have you seen him?”
“Not yet. I wanted to see you first. Look, I’ve more than enough cash to settle this. Your mum said they had already offered you a way out.”
“They did, but only if I accepted the case against me and paid my way out.”
“You mean it wouldn’t go to Court?”
“That’s right but if I fought the case and lost, I’d have a record and never be able to come here again, that is, after serving my sentence.”
“Would you want to come here again?”
“I have my reasons and I didn’t do anything.”
“I know you didn’t, but they don’t care about that. They just want money and I want to get you out. Your mother’s worried sick.”
It hit a nerve when I thought about her and what she must be going through. I could still hear her frightened voice in my head.
“I’ll offer a decent stash of cash to make this go away. You ready to go home?”
“I’m meditating with an Ozzy guy in here. He was arrested for smuggling heroin.”
“Glad you’re keeping such good company.”
“It’s not like that. John’s a good guy.”
“Good guys don’t traffic drugs, Mike.”
“He did it to save his family.”
“I’m glad you’ve found a friend, but don’t get too close….How you doing for money?”
“Not good. I owe John a lot.”
“How do I get money in?”
“You need to pay a guard. He would get it in.”
“Could we trust him?”
“No, but if you tell him there’s more coming, he’ll get it in, minus his commission.”
“I want you out, Mike.”
“If they can’t charge me in twelve days, they’ll have to release me or extend it for twelve more days.”
“What if they do extend it?”
“The evidence is false. They won’t….I’ve come this far. Let me wait it out. Trust me, I can do this.”
“You think you can you handle a few more days?”
“I know I can.”
Nigel raised his eyebrows. “All right, we’ll try it your way. In the meantime I’ll track down the girl who’s accused you and send you some cash.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
“Will a hundred thousand be enough?”
“That’s too much. John warned me about that. You give too much, the guard may do a runner and where would I keep so much cash safely in here?”
“How much do the guards get paid?”
“Between four and eight thousand a month.”
“So how much should I give him?”
“Five thousand. Then another five next time.”
“Is that enough? That’s nothing.”
“It’s enough in here.”
“Where did you find the last girl you sketched?”
“At the same bar where I found all the girls. Her name is Mia.”
“So it was Mia who accused you of raping her?”
I nodded.
“Your mother said she was a working girl.”
“She was, but I didn’t touch her.”
“She said you never slept with any of the girls, you only sketched them. Is that right?”
I lowered my eyes.
“I wouldn’t blame you if you did, Mike. There are some real beauties here.”
I nodded my head. “I thought about it but never did. What can I say - the art took over.”
“I can imagine.”
“I never raped Mia. You believe me, right?”
“Of course I believe you. I’ve been to the studio and seen what you’ve done. Great work, but right now I need the name and location of the bar.”
‘Bald Guard’ leaned in and rapped his knuckles on the door. I quickly told my grandfather what he needed to know, then watched as he was escorted back to what I used to know as freedom.