136. Earning Freedom (10.2), by Michael Santos
Earning Freedom: Conquering a 45-Year Prison Term, by Michael Santos
Chapter 10, Segment 2
Months 180-190
******
Five extraordinary days with Carole lead to the preliminary plans for the rest of our lives. We pledge to build our relationship, growing together through the challenges I\u2019m certain will come because of my imprisonment. Carole wants to marry me now, but I explain the reasons why she should understand more about the prison system\u2019s stranglehold on my life before rushing into marriage.\xa0 Although I want to marry her, it\u2019s necessary, I think, that she prepare herself for the unrelenting controls of the prison system and the strain it places on families. Her love comforts me, inspires me, and gives me a sense of belonging. Whether we marry now or not, I\u2019m no longer alone. I stare at the walls, trying to contemplate ways that I\u2019ll be able to provide for her.\xa0 I aspire to live as a worthy partner for her while I climb through the remainder of my sentence.
Carole returns to Oregon, leaving me with an ache in my heart. I want to hold and kiss her.\xa0 Our physical separation leaves me bereft and longing. Writing her each day isn\u2019t enough, but words on a page are all that I have while she\u2019s gone.
Despite my wanting\xa0her with me, I have major concerns about finances and my ability to support her. Although I still own stock that I could liquidate to raise cash, I\u2019ve been counting on that capital to help launch my life when I leave prison.
I love her, but I\u2019m under no delusions about the challenges I\u2019ll face with another decade of imprisonment ahead. Carole doesn\u2019t have the resources to relocate to New Jersey, and I don\u2019t know how I\u2019ll earn them from inside of these boundaries. Like me, she\u2019s 38 and divorced, but it wouldn\u2019t be just the two of us. She has two children: Michael is 13 and Nichole is 11. Although Michael lives with his father, moving Carole to New Jersey would mean bringing Nichole, too. I don\u2019t know how I would be able to take on this responsibility.
I stretch back in my chair, run my fingers through my hair, and think of her while staring at photographs of us together in the visiting room. Although I\u2019m confident that I can navigate the challenges of serving another decade in prison, devoting my life to Carole means I\u2019ll be complicating the rest of my journey\u2013albeit in magnificent ways.\xa0 When I\u2019m released we\u2019ll both be 49, but I want to begin my life with her now. I\u2019ve got to figure out how to generate enough resources to support her.
The only way I know how to earn money is through writing, so I invite Carole to join me in launching an effort to use the knowledge I\u2019ve gained in prison. She agrees enthusiastically and asks how we\u2019ll do it.\xa0 I explain that she can start a publishing company; it will produce and distribute books I write that describe the criminal justice system from the perspective of a man going through it.\xa0 From our efforts, we hope to build a sustainable income that will support her and Nichole while simultaneously providing guidance to people who need it.
******
After two guards open my door for the 3:00 a.m. census count and pass by, I throw back the covers and get out of bed. It\u2019s time to work. Emmanuel, my roommate, still sleeps soundly, so I\u2019m quiet. I\u2019ve cut holes into tennis balls and slid them onto the legs of my metal folding chair so it doesn\u2019t make noise when I sit at the desk. I\u2019m in my sweats and socks, with only my two book lights illuminating the page as I work quietly in the dark.
Since beginning this publishing project, my goal has been to write 15 pages of content each day.\xa0 It\u2019s work, requiring a disciplined strategy. I mail the pages I write to Carole each evening.\xa0 Upon receiving the handwritten pages, Carole types them and returns them to me double-spaced, ready for editing. We\u2019re a cross-country team, partners in the effort to raise money for her move to New Jersey. At the pace we\u2019re going, we\u2019re ahead of schedule. The manuscript should be finished within a month.
This evening, as I\u2019m using a blue pen to edit the pages Carole returned, my friend Geoff lies supine on the floor of my room. Geoff is an urbane cardiologist serving a 36-month sentence for the crime of treating poor people in his clinic and billing Medicaid for medicine and lab tests that weren\u2019t covered. For 30 years he\u2019s owned his Upper East Side medical clinic and the building where it\u2019s located. We\u2019ve become good friends. Geoff\u2019s in his mid-60s, but his daily discipline over diet and exercise enable him to retain a high degree of fitness. In fact, fitness is a top priority for Geoff, and because I enjoy his company, I offer him the use of my floor. He devotes an hour each evening to working his abdominal muscles, with a combination of leg lifts and extensions that he does methodically and effortlessly. Usually, he simultaneously reads his beloved New York Times, or classic literature, devouring books by Tolstoy, Hugo, and Joyce. But tonight Geoff is upset and wants to talk. I set my pen down to listen.
While lying on his back, he holds his extended legs steady, six inches off the floor, and tells me about business troubles at his clinic. Before surrendering to serve his sentence at Fort Dix, Geoff gave his business manager, Ted, authority to preside over his clinic. Through Ted\u2019s mismanagement, or possible fraud, Geoff tells me that he\u2019s losing $20,000 a month.
\u201cWhy don\u2019t you close the clinic down?\u201d I suggest.
\u201cI can\u2019t just close it. I employ three other cardiologists, an internist, and several nurses. The clinic sees more than 50 patients a day,\u201d he explains while raising his legs higher, a foot off the ground, and holding them steady.
\u201cThen why not sell the practice to the doctors? You\u2019ve worked long enough. You could rent them space, and leave them the headaches. By the time you finish this sentence, you\u2019ll be almost 70 anyway. You could retire.\u201d
\u201cI\u2019ve thought about selling. The trouble is I don\u2019t have any way of communicating from here. I\u2019m totally in the dark while I serve this sentence. All I get are messages that Ted needs more money to meet payroll.\u201d
\u201cWas the clinic losing money when you came in?\u201d
\u201cNo. Rather than costing me money, it should be earning 20 to 30 thousand each month. Ted is screwing up the billing, or something.\u201d
\u201cYou know what you need?\u201d I have an idea.
\u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d
\u201cAn office informant, someone who can tell you what\u2019s going on.\u201d
\u201cYou\u2019ve got that right.\u201d
\u201cWhy don\u2019t you hire Carole?\u201d
\u201cWho, your Carole?\u201d
\u201cShe could work at your office, then come visit us here and let you know what\u2019s going on.\u201d
\u201cIs she a lawyer?\u201d
\u201cNo, why?\u201d
\u201cWell, I could use a lawyer to sort through the billing mess.\u201d He lifts his legs higher, 18 inches off the floor. \u201cBesides, how would she come visit us both if she\u2019s not a lawyer?\u201d
\u201cShe can visit me, and you bring someone else to visit you. We\u2019ll sit beside each other in the visiting room and she can tell you what she sees going on in your office. At least you would know.\u201d
\u201cDo you think she\u2019d be willing to come to New York?\u201d
\u201cI can ask.\u201d
\u201cHow much would she want to earn?\u201d
\u201cShe\u2019d have to earn enough to live.\u201d
\u201cLiving on the Upper East Side of New York City isn\u2019t the same as living in Oregon.\u201d
\u201cWhat\u2019s it cost to rent an apartment near your office?\u201d
\u201cToo much. But I\u2019ve got a vacant apartment in the city, and I\u2019ve got a car she can drive. She can use the apartment and the car, and I\u2019ll pay her $2,000 a month. Does that sound fair?\u201d
\u201cI\u2019ll call and ask.\u201d
While Geoff continues with his leg lifts on the floor, I rush out of my room to secure a spot in line for a telephone. When she answers, the question spills out before I can ask about her day.
\u201cWould you move to New York if I could arrange an apartment, a car, and a job that would pay you $2,000 a month?\u201d
She doesn\u2019t hesitate, saying she would. \u201cWhat kind of job?\u201d
\u201cRemember I told you about my friend who\u2019s a doctor?\u201d
\u201cYes.\u201d
\u201cHe needs an office person, someone who can keep an eye on things and report back to him.\u201d
\u201cI can do that. How often could we see each other?\u201d
\u201cEvery week. We\u2019re only an hour apart. When could you be here?\u201d
\u201cI\u2019m ready to go whenever the job\u2019s open.\u201d
\u201cWhat about Nichole?\u201d
\u201cShe\u2019ll come with me.\u201d
******
Geoff\u2019s desperation to resolve his crisis at the office precipitates his decision to hire Carole on the spot. He needs information. People he trusts are stealing from him and mismanaging a business he spent a lifetime building. As a prisoner, he doesn\u2019t have access to information he needs about daily activities in his clinic.\xa0 The prison system limits each prisoner to 300 minutes of telephone use each month, and that isn\u2019t sufficient for a man like Geoff, who has existing business interests.\xa0 In an effort to get a handle on things, he pays Carole\u2019s expenses to move to New York.
We make the arrangements quickly, as Geoff wants Carole to begin at once. I coordinate the deal for Carole, but I saddle her with the challenge of coordinating the complicated cross-country move on her own.
I don\u2019t have any responsibilities outside these prison boundaries, and I have enough money in the bank to cover my startup expenses when I\u2019m released. After 15 years, I\u2019ve mastered the challenges that mire other prisoners in failure. In moving Carole to New York, however, I\u2019m knowingly making myself responsible for her and Nichole, her 11-year-old daughter. My credibility with family and mentors who believe in my judgment will be on the line, and maybe, too, the stability I\u2019ve worked hard to create.\xa0 Still, I\u2019m confident that we can make it together.
\u201cHoney,\u201d I warn her over the phone, \u201cyou should prepare yourself for other people\u2019s response to our plans. People are going to think you\u2019re nuts.\u201d
\u201cThey already do, but I don\u2019t care what anyone else thinks or says about me. I love you, Michael. I\u2019m not staying in Oregon while the man I love is in New Jersey. I need to be close so we can visit as frequently as rules will allow.\u201d
\u201cBaby, I need to be sure you fully understand my situation. I love you, and I\u2019m the most fortunate man alive to have your love. \xa0But I\u2019ve got 11 more years to serve, and I don\u2019t have any certainty about earning an income. I can\u2019t do more than arrange this job with Geoff. You have to make this move work on your own, without my help.\u201d
\u201cDo you want me to come?\u201d
\u201cYes, more than anything. But I\u2019m used to prison life. I worry whether you\u2019ll be able to handle it. Are you sure you\u2019ve thought through what 11 more years of prison means?\u201d
\u201cIf you had a life sentence, I\u2019d still choose you. You\u2019re the only man I want to share my life with.\u201d Her firm, unwavering dedication convinces me we can triumph together.
\u201cWhat about your family, your parents?\u201d
\u201cI choose you, Michael. Whatever it takes to make this relationship work, I\u2019m all in.\u201d
Our conversations and letters deepen my commitment. I want to give her all that I have and share all that I am and all that I will become. Carole\u2019s certainty and radiance warm me like sunlight, bringing out my humanity. I embrace the joy and sense of fulfillment that comes with loving her.
Friends and family worry that I\u2019m blinded by love, that I\u2019ve lost focus, and that I\u2019m setting myself up for a fall.
\u201cWhat about when you come home, Michael?\u201d My sister Julie presses, worrying that I haven\u2019t thought everything through. \u201cHow can you be sure she\u2019s the woman you want to spend your life with?\u201d
\u201cBecause I love her.\u201d
\u201cBut how are you going to take care of her?\u201d
\u201cWe\u2019ll create our life together. I can help her, just as she\u2019s helping me.\u201d
\u201cWhat about your future? Are you selling the rest of your stock portfolio? Have you thought about what it will mean if you come home broke? Tim and I want to help you, but we can\u2019t support another family.\u201d
\u201cI\u2019m not selling the stock. Carole has a job waiting for her in New York, and I\u2019m writing a new book for her to sell. You trust me, don\u2019t you?\u201d
\u201cOf course.\u201d
\u201cJulie, I\u2019m not going into this blindly. Carole makes everything in my life better and I want to build my life around her. With her I\u2019m not a prisoner, I\u2019m a man, and together we can make this work.\u201d
\u201cYou\u2019re a man, but you\u2019re still a prisoner. Just don\u2019t hurt her, Michael. She doesn\u2019t know anything about what she\u2019s getting into.\u201d
\u201cI\u2019ll never hurt her.\u201d
My closest mentors, Bruce McPherson and Carol Zachary, also express concern about this change I\u2019m introducing to my life, and to Carole\u2019s and Nichole\u2019s as well. I understand. The pernicious, toxic environment of prison beats families down, tramples relationships to dust. But I know that we can make it. Whatever it takes, I\u2019m determined, regardless of what odds conspire against us. I want her love and I\u2019m willing to endure whatever struggles come with it. I hope that Carole can too.
******
Those struggles begin to manifest themselves in late December, one week before Carole\u2019s scheduled arrival. Geoff comes to my room to share some unexpected news.
\u201cI\u2019m being transferred,\u201d he tells me.
\u201cWhat? Where to?\u201d
\u201cThey\u2019re sending me to the drug program on the West side.\u201d
Geoff will still be at Fort Dix, but his transfer to the other compound will completely sever our ability to communicate.
\u201cCarole\u2019s already sent her stuff with the moving company. I can\u2019t reverse her move.\u201d
\u201cI know, and I still want her to work in the office.\u201d
\u201cBut we won\u2019t be able to visit together.\u201d
\u201cCan\u2019t she visit me over there?\u201d\u2028
I shrug, not knowing what guards will allow. \u201cYou can try putting her on your visiting list, but they might not let her in.\u201d
\u201cThen she can write. Look, this is a mess, and there\u2019s nothing we can do about it. I\u2019ve got to be out of here in an hour. When she gets here, have her go to the office. Ted will give her the keys to the apartment and the car. We\u2019ll work out the arrangements once she settles in.\u201d
When I call Carole to tell her about Geoff\u2019s transfer, she doesn\u2019t hesitate. \u201cWe\u2019ll make it work. I\u2019ll still fill him in on what\u2019s happening in his office, and I\u2019ll look after whatever he needs.\u201d
I admire her optimism, her commitment, and her courage. My determination equals hers. But hers is weighted with a high degree of risk. We talk about the logistics of her move and about coordinating delivery of her belongings to Geoff\u2019s empty apartment. Such mundane tasks energize me. For the first time I\u2019m part of a family, cherishing the feeling of belonging. We save two phone minutes from my monthly allotment, as I want to call her after her flight lands. We\u2019re scheduled to visit on the morning after New Year\u2019s, 2003, when I\u2019ll meet Nichole for the first time.
******
It\u2019s after six on New Year\u2019s Eve, and I\u2019m at my desk, trying to ease my anxieties by writing. I burned through the final two phone minutes from my December allotment after Carole\u2019s plane landed and I won\u2019t receive my next allocation of phone or visiting time until tomorrow, when the new month begins. Prison restrictions prevent all contact with Carole, which leaves me completely in the dark about her move. I stand, nervously pacing the floor. My old friend Windward comes to mind\u2013he used to drive me nuts with his pacing.\xa0 That was longer than a decade ago, in USP Atlanta.
This anxiety is new to me.\xa0 I can\u2019t help her with this cross-country transition into a new city. At least I\u2019ll have new phone minutes tomorrow. We\u2019ll be able to talk, but we still won\u2019t be able to visit for two more days. Prisons are not family friendly.
While working through my silent worries, I hear an unexpected page.
\u201cMichael Santos. Report to the visiting room.\u201d
It\u2019s my name being paged, but since I\u2019ve expired my visiting privileges for the month, I\u2019m confused as I walk to the visiting room.
I see the guard at the visiting room door and I ask him for confirmation that he paged me.
\u201cYou heard your name, didn\u2019t you?\u201d
\u201cYes.\u201d
\u201cWell, haven\u2019t you been in long enough to know what that means? Strip!\u201d
I take off my clothes for the search ritual. The guard authorizes me to enter the visiting room and I see that it\u2019s packed. I walk through the crowds of people to the guard\u2019s platform, and as I hand him my ID card, I see Carole. She\u2019s bundled in a blue, floor-length wool coat, and a pale pink cashmere scarf circles her neck. She\u2019s obviously distraught. As I approach her, she walks to me quickly and wraps her arms around me, crying. She buries her face into my neck and I hold her.
\u201cBaby, what\u2019s wrong? Why are you crying?\u201d\u2028She holds me tighter.
\u201cWhat is it? Talk to me,\u201d I repeat urgently, quietly. I put my hands on her cheeks, tipping her head up to kiss her tears. \u201cWhat\u2019s wrong?\u201d
She sniffles, but between them I hear her say \u201cNo car, no apartment, no job.\u201d She\u2019s still crying and I pull her tight.
\u201cTell me what happened.\u201d I want to help her, and I suddenly feel the weight of what it means to accept this responsibility of love.
She takes a deep breath to steady her voice before speaking. \u201cIt\u2019s Ted, Geoff\u2019s business manager. He says he\u2019s in control of Geoff\u2019s practice. He refuses to give me access to the office, and he\u2019s refusing to give me keys to the apartment and the car I\u2019m supposed to use. I\u2019m here with Nichole, everything I own is in a moving truck on its way here, and I don\u2019t know what to do.\u201d
I breathe in deeply, needing to soothe her before asking questions. I pull her close, wrap my arm around her shoulders, and walk toward a pair of plastic purple chairs in the back of the visiting room. We sit and hold hands. It\u2019s the only comfort I can offer under the watchful eyes of cameras and guards. She sighs, exhaling with a long breath as she lays her head on my shoulder, and I feel her relax against me.
\u201cDon\u2019t worry, Baby, I\u2019ll take care of you.\u201d I kiss her cheeks, taking a chance that in the crowded room, the guards won\u2019t notice. \u201cI\u2019ve got enough money to help you settle.\u201d
\u201cYou said you\u2019d never sell the stocks,\u201d she says, lifting her head from my shoulder to look at me.
\u201cI know what I said, but you\u2019re more important to me than any stocks.\xa0 Of course I\u2019ll sell them. I love you, Carole. I\u2019ll do anything for you.\u201d Her head drops back onto my shoulder and I savor the feeling of her weight resting on me.
\u201cI\u2019ll pay you back,\u201d she promises.
I chuckle at her promise, and then I ask where she is staying. \u201cDid you get a hotel room in New York?\u201d
\u201cWe left New York when Ted refused to give me the apartment keys. I\u2019ve still got my rental car, so I drove down and checked us into a hotel that\u2019s closer. Nichole\u2019s there now. She\u2019s watching a movie until I get back.\u201d
I\u2019m relieved that Carole came to New Jersey. It\u2019s much less expensive here and we\u2019ll need to be careful with our money. I caress her hands and appreciate how soft and feminine they feel inside mine.
\u201cDo you want to stay in New Jersey, or would you rather go back to Oregon?\u201d
\u201cI\u2019m staying with you.\u201d Her voice so recently quivering is suddenly steady.
\u201cOkay, Honey. That\u2019s what I want, too. We\u2019ll make a plan and together we\u2019ll make it work. I love you.\u201d
\u201cI love you so much.\u201d She kisses me gently.
\u201cHoney, we can\u2019t kiss anymore,\u201d I warn, conscious of the guards. \u201cTell me how you got in here. I didn\u2019t have any visiting points left for the month.\u201d
\u201cI know. I called here all day and I told your unit manger it was an emergency, but he wouldn\u2019t let me talk to you. I decided to drive over and try to talk my way in. Thank goodness Officer Cruz was on duty. He must\u2019ve believed me when I told him I had to see you. He changed something on the computer and here I am. I think he was worried I was going to burst into tears in front of him.\u201d
\u201cSee, I told you that God\u2019s been protecting me through this journey.\xa0 Now he\u2019s protecting you.\xa0 And although many people who work for the prison system make things difficult, some are nice.\u201d
\u201cYes, he was very nice. I\u2019m grateful, because I really needed to see you, and I want to come back tomorrow, too.\u201d
\u201cTomorrow\u2019s New Year\u2019s Day, Honey. Holiday visiting privileges cost us double against my allotment for the month. Let\u2019s wait until the day after tomorrow to visit. The rules limit me to a maximum of 30 hours in the visiting room for the month and we can\u2019t squander them.\u201d\xa0 She\u2019s going to get an immersion course in the complications of my imprisonment.
\u201cMichael, I need to see you! We need to make a plan.\u201d
\u201cOkay,\u201d I relent. \u201cYou can come for one hour, but it\u2019s going to cost us two hours against my monthly allotment of 30 points.\u201d
\u201cI\u2019ll bring Nichole.\u201d
******
It\u2019s cold.\xa0 My green jacket and orange knit cap aren\u2019t enough to keep me from shivering when I leave the visiting room. Maybe I shiver more from worry than the frigid December temperatures. I can handle the cold, but as I cross the nameless road that leads to my housing unit, I realize for the first time in 38 years that the local economy is relevant to my life.
As the president tries to push us into a second war in Iraq, the newspapers have been reporting on high unemployment rates. These didn\u2019t concern me until an hour ago. But I\u2019ve brought Carole here, thousands of miles away from her friends and family, on a promise. The promise went south. Now two lives hang on my ability to bring her stability, and suddenly the 11 years of prison that await me feel heavier.
\u201cHey, I heard them call you for a visit.\u201d Bob catches up to me, his tone revealing curiosity. \u201cI thought you said you were out of points.\u201d
\u201cI was. Carole talked her way in.\u201d
\u201cHuh, I\u2019m impressed. It\u2019d be easier to talk your way out. She must\u2019ve charmed them, but that\u2019s like charming a rattlesnake. How\u2019s her move coming along?\u201d
\u201cTotally derailed. Geoff\u2019s business manager is refusing to give Carole the job, the apartment, or the car. She\u2019s stranded, and all her things are packed in a moving truck that\u2019s supposed to arrive in New York next week.\u201d
\u201cWow.\u201d We take a few steps with only the sound of crunching gravel and howling wind between us. \u201cHow can I help?\u201d
\u201cI\u2019ll take care of it. My sister is in Hawaii for the holidays, but when she returns, I\u2019ll have her sell enough stock to send Carole the money she needs to settle.\u201d
\xa0\u201cI could get her a few thousand to tide her over if it would help.\u201d
\u201cThanks. I appreciate the offer, but I put her in this mess. I\u2019ll get her out.\u201d
\u201cWell let me know if you need anything.\u201d Bob is a good friend, willing to lend me money even though we\u2019re both in prison.\xa0 I\u2019m grateful for the gesture.
I walk into the housing unit and search for Richard, a young offender I interviewed recently for a story I wrote. While talking with him, I remember Richard telling me that his wife lived only a few miles from the prison. She was struggling financially, like many prison families, because of her husband\u2019s imprisonment. He\u2019s sitting on the stairs, slumped, his elbows resting on his knees.
\u201cWhat\u2019s troubling you?\u201d I ask.
He looks up at me and takes off his glasses, rubbing his eyes. \u201cHolidays. I miss my wife and son.\u201d
\u201cThat\u2019s what I came to ask you about. Do you think your wife would want a housemate?\u201d
\u201cWhadda ya mean?\u201d
\u201cI\u2019m in a bind. My fianc\xe9e and her daughter just moved here from Oregon. They thought they had an apartment, but the arrangements didn\u2019t work out. I need to help her find a new place and I thought of you. Your wife could probably use the money, and they could support each other.\u201d
He puts his glasses back on. \u201cThat could really help. How old is your fianc\xe9e\u2019s daughter?\u201d
\u201cEleven.\u201d
\u201cI\u2019m in line for the phone now. I\u2019ll come by your room after I talk with my wife.\u201d
\xa0