137. Earning Freedom (10.3), by Michael Santos
Earning Freedom: Conquering a 45-Year Prison Term by Michael Santos
Reading Chapter 10.3
Months 180-190
******
When I enter the visiting room on New Year\u2019s morning, the large room feels empty. I appreciate the relative silence. Other than the whir of the vending machine, there\u2019s nothing else to distract us. Carole and her daughter sit beside each other in the maroon plastic chairs.
Carole looks lovely in her heavy wool coat, long blonde hair contrasting beautifully against the navy blue. She stands to greet me as I walk toward her.
Nichole sits calmly, showing none of the distress I see in her mother. At 11 she resembles Carole, but with dark hair curling in natural waves around her heart-shaped face. A light sprinkle of freckles dot the bridge of her nose. Her hazel-blue eyes look directly into mine as I kneel in front of her chair and greet her. \u201cYou must be Nichole. I\u2019m Michael, and I\u2019m very happy to meet you.\u201d
\u201cHi Michael. This place is huge.\u201d
\u201cYes, and we\u2019re lucky that it\u2019s not filled with people already,\u201d I say with a smile.
\u201cNichole, honey,\u201d Carole says \u201cwe\u2019re only going to be here for an hour. Why don\u2019t you get a hot chocolate from the vending machine and then walk over and see what\u2019s in the kids\u2019 area. I need to talk with Michael.\u201d
\u201cBut I want to talk with him too.\u201d
\u201cWe\u2019re going to visit again in a couple of days,\u201d I tell her. \u201cAnd if you want, you can sit with your mom and me the whole time. Is that okay?\u201d
Nichole nods her head. Carole hands her several quarters from the clear plastic coin purse she brings for buying the vending machine food. As Nichole walks toward the kids\u2019 area, sipping hot chocolate, I hold Carole\u2019s hands in mine and squeeze them to reassure her. \u201cDid you sleep okay?\u201d
She breathes in deeply and slowly, exhales, and then says she slept fine.
\u201cHoney, I should be comforting you, but we don\u2019t have much time. Because it\u2019s a holiday, every hour we spend in here today is costing us double against our monthly allotment of 30 hours. We have to act fast, and we need a plan, okay?\u201d
\u201cIf we run out of time, I think Office Cruz will let me in.\u201d
\u201cCarole,\u201d I caution her, \u201cthis is prison. He may have let you in last night because he was alone and he felt sorry for you. We can\u2019t live on the edge like that. We have to budget our visits. The system controls everything and we have to succeed in spite of it.\u201d
\u201cWhat do you want me to do?\u201d she asks, eyes filling with tears.
\u201cLast night you said you wanted to stay here. Are you sure?\u201d
\u201cI\u2019m absolutely sure.\u201d
\u201cGood, because I want you to stay with me. Every decision we make has to be consistent with our goal of bringing you stability, and it\u2019s not going to be easy\xa0 But we have to make a 100 percent commitment to making it work, no matter how painful the decisions.\u201d
\u201cI\u2019ve already got the newspaper and I\u2019m looking for apartments.\u201d
\u201cHoney, think about that. You don\u2019t know this area, the schools, the neighborhood, or where you\u2019re going to work. How much do you think it will cost to rent an apartment?\u201d
\u201cI\u2019m guessing about $1,000 a month, more or less,\u201d she answers.
\u201cTo move in, then, you\u2019ll need first, last, and security. Then you\u2019ll need money for utilities and necessities. You\u2019re going to drop $5,000 minimum to set yourself up. That doesn\u2019t seem like a good plan to me, especially since you don\u2019t know where you\u2019ll work or how much you\u2019ll earn. We need stability.\u201d
\u201cWhat do you think I should do?\u201d
\u201cRemember the story I wrote about Richard, a guy who arrived here a few months ago? You typed it for me and posted it on the Web.\u201d
Carole pauses, trying to recall. \u201cVaguely. You\u2019ve sent me so many stories.\u201d
\u201cRichard\u2019s wife lives a few miles from here, in Mount Holly. She has a little boy and a four-bedroom house. I asked Richard last night if his wife would rent you a couple of rooms. You could move in today, and the two of you could support each other. Nichole would have another child to keep her company, and you could catch your breath, get your bearings.\u201d
\u201cMichael, I can\u2019t move in with a stranger.\u201d Carole doesn\u2019t see the merit in my suggestion.
\u201cCarole, this isn\u2019t going to be easy. I\u2019m sending you $10,000. That money has to cover all of your expenses until you start earning a paycheck. You need to get settled. You need a car. Nichole needs to start school again next week. This lady can help you.\u201d
\u201cBut I don\u2019t know her, Michael. You\u2019re asking me to live with a stranger. I\u2019m not concerned about me, Honey. I have to consider Nichole\u2019s well-being.\u201d
I put my arm around her and pull her close. \u201cDo you trust me?\u201d
\u201cOf course I trust you.\u201d
\u201cAnd do you want to build your life with me, grow old with me?\u201d
\u201cYes.\u201d
\u201cThen you have to work with me. I can steer us through this crisis, but we both have to understand that the decisions we make today, from this minute, will determine where we are tomorrow.\u201d I extend my arm and open my hand. \u201cDo you see that?\u201d
\u201cSee what?\u201d
\u201cMy fingers. Each of those represents a year. That\u2019s five years. Can you make it through five years with me?\u201d
\u201cI\u2019m going to make it through forever with you.\u201d
\u201cOkay. Well let\u2019s focus on five years. In five years, your life will be totally different from what it is now if we work together. You\u2019ll be stable, with your own money in the bank, money you\u2019ve earned. We won\u2019t succeed by accident. We need to make tough decisions now, to commit and recommit 100 percent with every decision, reaching toward that five-year mark. When we make it to five, then we\u2019ll work toward the next five. By then I\u2019ll almost be ready for release. And you\u2019ll be independent. Do you want that?\u201d
\u201cYes.\u201d
\u201cThen you have to make hard choices now. Thank God we have this money from my stock account. But we can\u2019t squander it with bad decisions. We have to focus on stabilizing you as quickly as possible. If you meet Richard\u2019s wife with that goal in mind, understanding that she\u2019s an answer to a prayer for us to be together, then you\u2019ll see the move as a step that leads us closer to our five-year goal.\u201d
\u201cWhat if we don\u2019t get along?\u201d
\u201cThat\u2019s up to you and the way that you approach her. She needs you and you need her. You can make it work.\u201d
******
Carole settles in with her new housemate, Catherine, and she enrolls Nichole in school. It\u2019s early spring, 2003, and the job market is terrible. Through sheer resourcefulness, Carole learns that she can earn an income by providing notary services to the mortgage industry.\xa0 She secures the necessary credentials and becomes self-employed, earning an income sufficient to support her and Nichole.
I\u2019m walking along the road inside the Fort Dix fences, admiring the warm sunbeams that cut through the wire mesh and razor wire, reflecting off the shiny metal. Fragrant cherry blossoms and blooming flowerbeds fill the air with the scent of spring. I\u2019m filled with appreciation for the blessings in my life. Through the fence I watch Carole\u2019s tan Toyota Corolla pull into the visitor\u2019s parking lot.
She can\u2019t see me, as I\u2019m only one prisoner among thousands wearing khakis inside the compound. I watch her walk briskly, wearing her red skirt and jacket, heels clicking on the asphalt, hair blowing behind her, rushing to pass through the checkpoints to visit me. She thinks she\u2019s surprising me, but my only surprise is her remarkable consistency and devotion to serving this time with me. Carole wants us to marry, but I put her off. Marriage is easy for me, I tell her. I\u2019m a prisoner and she\u2019s a beautiful woman. I\u2019m giving her all that I am as it is, and I freely commit to her, but there\u2019s no rush. I want her to understand all the complications of prison before we marry.
\u201cI watched you as you parked, as you rushed across the parking lot. You didn\u2019t surprise me,\u201d I tell her after our kiss.
\u201cI drove fast to get here in time for the last two hours of visiting.\u201d
\u201cI\u2019m always expecting you.\u201d
The visiting room has become our living room. We sometimes walk through the rows and aisles of chairs, holding hands, chatting with other prison families. She buys dinner for me from the vending machines.\xa0 It\u2019s always the same menu choice of frozen pizza, burritos, or hamburgers that she cooks in the microwave.
\u201cI like preparing your food,\u201d she says, and watches me eat.
\u201cThis is what it\u2019s going to be like when we\u2019re old and living together in a nursing home,\u201d I tease. \u201cWe\u2019ll have familiar faces around us, strangers we recognize, but we\u2019ll have our own life. You can push my wheelchair.\u201d
\u201cWherever you are, that\u2019s where I want to be,\u201d she wipes a napkin against my mouth. \u201cWhy do you eat so fast?\u201d
\u201cI got used to it over the years. The guards rush us out of the chow hall. You\u2019ll have to teach me manners once they release me.\u201d
\u201cYou don\u2019t even taste your food. You just inhale.\u201d She tilts her head in amazement. \u201cAnd how can you eat so much?\u201d
\u201cBelieve me, I taste it. Besides, this is how I test if you really love me. If you can stand to watch me eat, I know you\u2019ll stay with me.\u201d
\u201cI\u2019ll stay with you,\u201d she says, and then adds, \u201cbut you better stay with me at the dinner table until I\u2019m finished!\u201d
We walk around the room and stop by the television as President Bush grabs hold of the lectern to address the nation.
\u201cI can\u2019t stand all this talk about going into Iraq. For what?\u201d I say, shaking my head in disgust at the image of Bush in his familiar blue suit with his open arms and ridiculous gestures. \u201cHow many soldiers have to lose their lives for his ambitions?\u201d
\u201cI just wish he\u2019d let you out,\u201d Carole squeezes my hand.
\u201cForget about that happening under his rule.\u201d
******
When I return to the housing unit after our visit I see scores of prisoners gathered in front of the bulletin board. They\u2019re cursing and complaining.
\u201cWhat\u2019s up?\u201d I ask.
\u201cFuckin\u2019 warden,\u201d one prisoner says. \u201cMore fuckin\u2019 bullshit, fuckin\u2019 with my peoples. I ain\u2019t gonna be able to see my babies\u2019 mammas.\u201d
I push my way through the crowd to read the memo. It cites the nation\u2019s elevated security-threat level and the imminent war in Iraq as a reason behind the warden\u2019s new rule that limits visiting to immediate family members only. That means he will only authorize parents, children, siblings, and wives to visit until further notice. My heart sinks.
Carole has only been living in New Jersey for three months, but our lives are now linked. She is overseeing the development of my new website, MichaelSantos.net, and helping to establish my \u201cbrand.\u201d She is the link between my publishers and me, and she has complete responsibility for the publishing company she formed to market and distribute books I\u2019m writing.
We\u2019ve begun our lives as a family, planning and preparing for my life upon release in 2013. Despite Carole\u2019s cross-country move to living just minutes away, this new rule will not permit us to see each other. I call to tell her about the new mandate.
\u201cWell, are they going to increase the phone-minute allotment so we can at least talk more?\u201d
\u201cWe\u2019ll still have to make do with 300 phone minutes a month.\u201d
\u201cHow can they say they promote community ties if they make rules that are so hard on families?\u201d
\u201cHoney, this is my life. It\u2019s what I\u2019ve been telling you. They can do whatever they choose and for any reason. I don\u2019t have any control.\u201d
\u201cThen we have to get married, Michael. We can\u2019t wait. We\u2019re a family.\u201d
\u201cBaby, we shouldn\u2019t get married just to visit. Marriage is for the rest of our lives, and you have to be absolutely sure you can handle the rest of my sentence.\u201d
\u201cI know exactly what I\u2019m doing. Whatever the system does to you, it does to me, too. We\u2019re in this together.\u201d
Carole is an amazing woman and I feel so grateful to have her love.
******
I initiate the necessary paperwork to marry. My case manager, Mr. Lawson, is sitting behind his messy metal desk when I hand him the official request.
\u201cWhat\u2019s this, a marriage request?\u201d
\u201cThat\u2019s right. I\u2019m getting married.\u201d
\u201cThought you was smarter den dat. After all dese years, you ain\u2019t learnt? Prison\u2019s a place to get divorced, not married.\u201d He laughs.
\u201cWhen I start looking for advice on building happiness from prison guards, I\u2019ll look you up,\u201d I respond. There's too much venom in my retort.
Mr. Lawson puts the forms on his desk and glares at me. \u201cI\u2019s a case manager. Ain\u2019t no prison guards here. Dey\u2019s \u2018correctional officers\u2019. Get it straight.\u201d
Mr. Lawson reviews the form. \u201cGoin\u2019 hafta run dis by da unit team, den send it on up to da warden. I\u2019ll let you know. Now git outta he\u2019r.\u201d
\u201cThis isn\u2019t a discretionary issue,\u201d I tell him. \u201cThe Supreme Court says I have a constitutional right to marry. You can\u2019t block the request.\u201d
\u201cBoy, don\u2019t be spittin\u2019 no law at me. We gots a war goin\u2019 on. Security \u0313a da insta-tution. We goin\u2019 review yo request, an\u2019 like I says, I\u2019ll let you know.\xa0 Wha\u2019s up?\xa0 You gotta problem wit dat?\u201d
While I brace myself for a bureaucratic struggle to receive permission to marry, I urge Carole to use this time when we can\u2019t visit to enroll in a real estate class. The wife of another prisoner is a broker for Prudential. She\u2019s offered to bring Carole on as an agent and teach her the trade.
Instead of a bureaucratic struggle, a staff shakeup results in a new case manager who is much nicer, and a new unit manager, Mr. Jones, who recently transferred to Fort Dix from USP Leavenworth. Mr. Jones, or TJ, as I\u2019ve heard staff members cordially refer to him, is in his early 30s, black, well-dressed, and built like an NFL linebacker. He is respectful and totally professional. When I approach him about my marriage request he congratulates me, assuring me that he\u2019ll push the approval through in time for a June wedding.
******
I wake early on my wedding day, June 24, 2003, smiling. I\u2019ll celebrate this day with Carole for the rest of my life. I step outside to run, feeling the humidity of an East Coast summer, but the breeze I generate by running cools my skin. I\u2019ve paid a heavy price with this prison term, surrendering most of my life as a consequence, but now I have Carole. Although prison rules require two witnesses at our wedding, Nichole isn\u2019t allowed to participate because she\u2019s still younger than 18. I would\u2019ve liked Julie to come, but she just gave birth to her second child, Sophia. My father is in an Alzheimer\u2019s home, unable even to talk with me over the phone, much less travel. But I\u2019m happy that both my mom and my younger sister, Christina, are flying in from Miami for the ceremony. My mother calls Carole my \u2018angel\u2019 and the description suits her perfectly.
Two hours in the visiting room is all that we\u2019re going to have, but it\u2019s a fitting place for the ceremony because it\u2019s where we spend all of our time together. I\u2019ll wear a wedding ring when I walk out. Julie sent us the matching silver bands as a wedding gift. The rings will symbolize our commitment and once Carole slides mine onto my finger, I intend to keep it on forever. We\u2019ll make this work.
I finish running eight miles and slow my pace to a walk when I see Bob. He extends his hand. \u201cCongratulations, Buddy. I\u2019m glad we\u2019ve met, and I wish you and Carole happiness, good health, and prosperity. You\u2019re going to make her an excellent husband.\u201d
\u201cThanks, Bob. Your friendship means a great deal to me, and I appreciate your good wishes. I\u2019m sorry you can\u2019t be there for the ceremony.\u201d
\u201cWe\u2019ll have a party when you\u2019re out, when we\u2019re both home.\u201d
\u201cI\u2019m looking forward to it.\u201d
\u201cAre your mom and sister here?\u201d
\u201cI hope so. They\u2019re supposed to be with Carole now. I\u2019d better go shower.\u201d
\u201cGood luck, and God bless.\u201d
Wearing crisply ironed khakis and polished black leather shoes, I look as sharp as a prisoner can when I present my ID card to Lieutenant Marks.
\u201cThis has got to be the stupidest thing you\u2019ve ever done,\u201d the lieutenant says sarcastically, shaking his head. \u201cYou ought to tattoo the word \u2018fool\u2019 right across your forehead.\u201d He points to his head then loudly slurps coffee from his foam cup.
I strain to hold my sarcasm in check. He\u2019d like nothing better than to unsnap one of the leather compartments on his heavy black leather belt, pull out a set of shiny metal handcuffs, and slap them on my wrist, canceling this special day for Carole and me.
\u201cIf you\u2019re going through with it, let\u2019s go. I got a prison to run.\u201d He leads me into the visiting room, without a preliminary strip search. Four other prisoners come along, as they\u2019ll be marrying today as well. I don\u2019t know them. I\u2019m too consumed with the excitement coursing through me to concern myself with anyone else.
I sit in a chair and watch for Carole. When the door opens I stand, smiling as this beautiful lady walks toward me. More than a year has passed since my mother or Christina have visited and I\u2019m grateful they made the special trip for my wedding ceremony, but I can\u2019t take my eyes off of Carole. Her cream-colored suit compliments her slender figure, and I like the graceful way she walks. She opens her arms and we embrace, sharing a kiss while my mom and sister stand by watching.
\u201cThanks for coming, Mom,\u201d I turn to hug her. She\u2019s always emotional when she sees me, and this morning isn\u2019t any different.\xa0 My imprisonment has been incredibly difficult for my mom.
\u201cI\u2019m so happy you have such a beautiful bride, so happy for both of you.\u201d
I hug my sister next. Christina is four years younger than I am, petite and pretty, with long brown hair and a glowing face that resists aging. She\u2019s been married for 15 years and is the mother of two girls, Isabella and Camilla, but she still can\u2019t buy a bottle of wine without showing her ID.
\u201cYou\u2019ve got to be the luckiest man in the world, convincing this beautiful woman to marry you in here,\u201d my sister says, smiling.
\u201cYou\u2019ve got that right!\u201d I keep my arm around Carole and kiss her cheek.
\u201cHoney, did you talk to Bob?\u201d Carole asks.
\u201cI saw him this morning. He sent his good wishes, why?\u201d
\u201cDid he tell you what he did?\u201d
\u201cNo, what?\u201d
\u201cHe sent a personal messenger to my house last night to deliver a wedding card, and inside there were two cashiers\u2019 checks, each for five thousand dollars.\u201d
\u201cWow! What a thoughtful, generous friend.\u201d
\u201cCan you believe it? I thought he didn\u2019t want you to get married.\u201d
\u201cThat was before he knew how extraordinary you were.\u201d
\u201cI sent him a thank you letter last night. Please tell him I\u2019m grateful. What should I do with the money?\u201d
\u201cPut it in the bank,\u201d I tell her.
\u201cGeez, they should\u2019ve at least done some decorating in here for the wedding,\u201d Christina remarks. She\u2019s looking around at the sterile setting of the visiting room as we all sit, side by side, in a single row of the plastic chairs placed in straight lines throughout the room. The polished floor shines. Six vending machines buzz under the bright, fluorescent lights.
\u201cIt\u2019s too bad they couldn\u2019t hold the wedding outside,\u201d my mom says. \u201cIt\u2019s such a beautiful summer day, perfect for a garden wedding.\u201d
\u201cWe\u2019re just happy that the day is finally here,\u201d Carole says.
\u201cI\u2019ll marry you again when I come home,\u201d I promise Carole while looking into her eyes.
\u201cHoney, that must be the man who\u2019s going to marry us,\u201d Carole gestures to an older man in a black robe who walks in with Mr. Jones, my unit manager. The white-haired man carries a black leather portfolio, and he\u2019s shaking hands with the two guards who supervise us from the platform.
\u201cIs he a chaplain?\u201d my mom asks.
\u201cI think he\u2019s a justice of the peace,\u201d I answer.
\u201cNo,\u201d Carole corrects me. \u201cHe\u2019s the deputy mayor of New Hanover Township. That\u2019s where I sent the check for our marriage license.\u201d
The deputy mayor comes over to introduce himself, presents us with papers to sign, and instructs Carole about how to get an official copy of our marriage certificate. We\u2019re the first couple to be married. He stands in front of us and begins the ceremony. Mom and Christina flank us, smiling. I hold Carole\u2019s hand, grinning as I listen to him recite the marital vows, asking us in turn whether we take each other, in sickness and in health, for better or worse, until death parts us. Carole fills my heart with her \u201cI do,\u201d and I say the same. We\u2019re married. Finally I get to kiss my bride, the lovely Carole Santos.
\u201cI can\u2019t believe they won\u2019t give you any time alone,\u201d Christina says. \u201cThat\u2019s so cruel.\u201d
\u201cThe honeymoon\u2019s going to have to wait,\u201d I say.
\u201cWe have the rest of our lives for our honeymoon,\u201d Carole answers, kissing my cheek.
My mom and sister sit with us for a while, and then graciously leave to give Carole and me the last hour together. We\u2019re not alone. Four other couples also being married today sit with their families in the chairs around us waiting for their turn.
\u201cYou\u2019ve honored me today, Carole, making me as happy as I can possibly be.\u201d
\u201cI love you, Michael.\u201d
\u201cSomeday I\u2019ll buy you a house,\u201d I promise.
\u201cSomeday I\u2019ll make you a home,\u201d she adds. \u201cIn the meantime, \u2018home\u2019 will be wherever we are.\xa0 We\u2019re in this together.\u201d
\u201cThis is forever,\u201d I twist my silver wedding band.
\u201cThere\u2019s no place I\u2019d rather be than with you.\u201d\u2028
Lieutenant Marks brings an end to our time together. Ms. Davis, an attractive young woman who looks out of place in a prison guard\u2019s uniform, smiles as she escorts Carole and the other brides out. Mr. Rodriguez, a guard who sports a tattoo of an American flag on his forearm, strip searches the five grooms, side by side. The other prisoners and I dress and return to the compound, each with a new wedding ring on his finger.
******
On August 9, 2003, Justice Anthony Kennedy of the U.S. Supreme Court delivers an extraordinary keynote speech at the American Bar Association\u2019s annual convention in San Francisco. Carole sends me a copy of the text and highlights the parts she wants me to pay close attention to. I can\u2019t believe what the Justice says to the nation\u2019s lawyers. Justice Kennedy calls for prison reform, saying that America incarcerates too many people, that American prisoners often serve draconian sentences, and that a nation confident in its laws should not be afraid of compassion and mercy.
\u201cMichael,\u201d Carole urges during our evening visit, \u201cdon\u2019t you think you should at least try for clemency again, especially after what Justice Kennedy said in his speech?\u201d
\u201cBaby, we can\u2019t afford it. I\u2019m not going to spend our money on an attorney when the odds are so far against us. President Bush isn\u2019t going to commute my sentence.\u201d
\u201cBut you\u2019ve done so much. No other prisoner has earned university degrees, served 16 years, and published books that universities from across the country use. You don\u2019t have any history of violence and now you\u2019re married. I\u2019ll bet if the president knew about you, he\u2019d commute your sentence.\u201d
\u201cThat\u2019s the problem, he doesn\u2019t know who I am. And unless I have a top legal team representing me, he\u2019ll never know who I am. That\u2019s one of the reasons we\u2019re building the website. We need to attract lawyers who want to represent me because I\u2019ve earned freedom, because they believe in me. Right now we don\u2019t have the money to hire lawyers.\u201d
\u201cBut you could at least file a clemency petition on your own. We don\u2019t need lawyers to fill out the petition and send it in. At least that way we\u2019d have a chance.\u201d
\u201cOkay,\u201d I concede. \u201cPrint a blank petition and mail it to me. I\u2019ll fill it out and we\u2019ll collect some new supporting letters to file with it. But don\u2019t get your hopes up on this. We need to keep preparing for 2013. That means I need to write, and you need to earn and save.\u201d
\u201cI\u2019m doing my part.\u201d\u2028
\u201cYes you are,\u201d I squeeze her hand. \u201cYou\u2019re wonderful.\u201d
******
It\u2019s Monday, November 17, 2003. Carole and I have been married for nearly five months when she comes to share her good news. When I walk toward her, she\u2019s standing, wearing a glowing smile. The bright room is filled with other visitors, as noisy as a full auditorium.
\u201cI passed my real estate test.\u201d
\u201cCongratulations!\u201d I grab her in my arms, pull her close, and kiss her. \u201cI told you all of your studying would pay off. How did you find out?\u201d
\u201cI called the real estate board this morning. I got a 97 on my exam.\u201d
\u201cBaby, you deserve to feel proud of yourself.\u201d\u2028
She\u2019s smiling. \u201cI\u2019m so happy honey, because I did it for you.\u201d
When hundreds of people pack the visiting room, like today, some couples succeed in stealing a few extra kisses through the visit. I only kissed Carole when our visit began, as rules permit. That\u2019s why I\u2019m startled when the guard yells my name.
\u201cSantos!\u201d he hollers. An immediate hush quiets the entire room with his outburst.
I point my finger at my chest, making sure he\u2019s yelling at me.
\u201cCome to the desk,\u201d he orders.
\u201cBut you didn\u2019t do anything,\u201d Carole objects as I stand and let go of her hands.
\u201cLet me see what he wants.\u201d
I walk through the columns and rows of visitors to approach the guard\u2019s platform.
\u201cLieutenant wants to see you,\u201d he tells me.
\u201cCan\u2019t it wait until after my visit?\u201d
\u201cNow. Officer Ruiz will take you through the back.\u201d\u2028I don\u2019t look back at Carole, but follow Officer Ruiz to the dressing room. My heart starts beating faster, as I\u2019ve never known anything good to come from a talk with a lieutenant.
\u201cWhere\u2019s the lieutenant?\u201d I inquire, looking around the empty room.
\u201cNot here,\u201d Officer Ruiz says. \u201cHe wants to see you in his office.\u201d
\u201cFor what? What\u2019s this about?\u201d
\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d Officer Ruiz admits. \u201cHe called us and told us to escort you over.\u201d
\u201cWhat about my visit?\u201d
\u201cHe terminated your visit. Put your hands behind your back. I\u2019ve got to cuff you up.\u201d
\xa0
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