0 comments/ 51125 views/ 41 favorites The Doctor, The Ex-Con By: thecelt I posted this story on another site some time ago, but never on Lit. I have been physically unable to do any writing for some time so this is all I can do right now. It's a long story but I'd rather give it to you all at once. Personally, I hate multi-part stories. I hope you enjoy it. * * * * * Chapter 1- Carmine The whistle blew as I stood up from my resting place next to the chain link fence that enclosed the area where I, along with twenty other men, was getting my daily ration of fresh air. I kept as far away from the other cons as I could since I was not going to blow my chance of getting out by getting into trouble. Freedom was just too damned close for me to screw it up. I ambled over toward the far edge of the field and queued up with the other inmates waiting to file into the outer chamber leading from the exercise field to the main hallway of the prison. My name is Carmine Montoya and I'm a charter member of the inmates society here at lovely Ohio State Penitentiary. I'm one of over five hundred held courtesy of the State of Ohio. I'm in for assault and serving a sentence of seven to ten years. Actually it was a plea bargain that got me here but I was guilty: no question about it. I admitted it and my attorney worked out the deal. He was court appointed but he did the job. He was happy that I had no complaints, and wanted no appeal: I just wanted to serve my time and pay my debt to society. We had two hours a day outside, one in the morning and one in the afternoon. This was the second, and the whistle signaled our hour in the sun was over. When the last man came through the sally-port, the steel bar gate slammed shut behind him. The clang was one I was familiar with now and it was just part of the background noise. Once it was shut, the gate in front of the first man in the queue slid open and we filed into the main hallway. I looked down the long sterile hallway, cells to the right and left, two levels high and most now filled and thought to myself that this had been my home for the last five years and some days. We were the last group of the day to go outside. As always, we marched single file down that barren walk with guards at the head and the end of our column and one walking beside. No talking, no nothing; just silent marching, the sound of our prison-issue shoes echoing from the block walls. My group was on the ground floor so we marched down the center, men peeling off in pairs to the left or right to enter their cells. The doors were all open, waiting for the command to shut them down. I was near the end and followed Owen, 'Big O' Potts, my current cellmate as we moved out of line and into cell number 113. Owen jumped up to the top bunk while I took the bottom due to my seniority in this cell. The guard came past, looked in to see we were where we were supposed to be and that no one else was in with us, then after checking the full row, signaled to the gatekeeper. Once all were in and accounted for, the doors slid home with their own distinctive clang and we were sealed in for the next two hours until the dinner march. "So, tomorrow's the day, eh Doc?" Owen was not much in the way of words but this was a special occasion. "Yeah, tomorrow's the day, 'O'. Gonna be good to be out of here." I didn't normally say much either which is why Owen and I were good cellmates. He had been with me for over a year now without either of us doing the other harm. "Yeah, good. You got my number, Doc? I'm out in another month." "I got it. I just hope I don't need it until parole is done." We were done talking until dinner. Silence was one of the premiums in a good cellmate. None of us liked to talk much after a few years inside. After all, when your world consisted of a barren cell and a cot with a stainless steel crapper, what was there to talk about? Most of the movies they showed were ancient and the library held mainly rejected books from the local schools. Not a lot of stimulation. Owen Potts is in for manslaughter. He took a dislike to a man that threatened one of his kids. Seems the man also was messing with his missus and Owen took issue with that. He put a knife into the guy's gut, just missing an artery. Fortunately, the guy survived so Owen only got fifteen years. His wife divorced him and he hadn't seen his kid for the last ten years. Shortly after he was released from the hospital, the guy on the outside was mugged and killed in what the police called a random case of robbery. Funny, but it wasn't a surprise to Owen. All he said when he heard was "Good Job!" He had already done most of his time and like me, the parole board gave him a pass on the remainder. He'd kept his nose clean inside. It's good that society doesn't like to shell out good money for more and better prisons. Makes our time a lot shorter. I lay back, picking up the book I had been reading. It was a medical journal and it outlined several new procedures for resetting and aligning broken bones. I had kept up with the new procedures and discoveries in prison and the librarian was good about getting the books I requested. I picked it up, looked at it for a few minutes, then put it down. I wanted something less technical and more exciting. I picked up a fiction novel, one of Ludlum's tomes, always good for reading since it took forever to finish one. Deep, dark, convoluted and violent. Just the thing for a convict to waste time with. I had read all of his works that were in the prison library. My release was coming just in time. I had been in jail now for five years, three months and ten days. With the overcrowding in the state penal system, the courts had ruled that once a prisoner had served seventy percent of his minimum term, he or she was eligible for parole. The parole board had granted my parole on the third try. No one showed up to protest or to advocate for my release since I had made it clear I wanted no one I knew to know about my upcoming parole hearing. I asked only one man to speak on my behalf. I hadn't asked anyone else for my side and no one ever appeared for the other one so it was pretty much of a wash in that regard. But this time I had a guarantee of a job and a place to live when I got out; courtesy of my old boss and friend, Jason Whatley. He ran a private practice now in Columbus and wanted me to come in with him. He had made the necessary calls and my license to practice had been renewed without issue since my crime had nothing to do with medicine and I had passed the proficiency test. The parole board liked this and the letter from Jason was complimentary so they relented and gave me parole. During the time I was in, my only visitor was my sister Eileen. She was married and had three kids of her own. She and her husband Fred moved into our parent's home in the suburbs of Cleveland after they were both killed in a car accident three years ago. Before that, mom and dad wanted to come visit but I begged them both to stay away. I hated for them to see me in here but mom had to come anyway. She and Eileen both came every couple of months until her death. Dad sent letters but honored my request: I think the whole idea pained him. However, they were gone now and only Eileen came. We never talked of my ex and my kid. Eileen learned early on that I wanted no word of what they were doing. I had it in my head that they were better off without me. After all, I had lost it big time when I almost killed Hugo. I don't think I would have done anything to Nancy, but I wasn't sure, so I decided to put them in my past and move on. It seemed the best thing for all of us. When she visited a week ago, I told Eileen of my deal with Jason and she was delighted. We promised to keep in touch after I was released. She asked if I had a place to stay and needed anything. I told her Jason had everything under control so not to worry. As soon as I was settled, I would call her and give her the information. Laying on my bunk and considering all of this, I sighed and tried to take a quick nap. Time seemed to be dragging even more slowly now than it did normally. All I had to do now was make it through dinner and then one more night in this hell hole and I would be a free man. Free from what? Well, that was a matter of public record so there's no harm in telling you. It was all because I beat a man almost to death. It was a close call but he survived and I was arrested and charged with assault with intent to kill. My court appointed attorney helped me to a plea bargain that reduced the charge to simple assault. I was guilty and was willing to plead out so it went through without a trial. I agreed to a term of not less than seven and not more than ten years if I would plead guilty. It was all very civilized and I was bundled off to jail and out of sight of all those who wanted me lynched or acquitted. Seems at the time, there were more on the lynching side but who was counting. What happened? It was a very simple thing. I was a doctor on staff at a local hospital. I was a specialist and my practice was in the field of orthopedics, a bone doctor, and I had been on call for almost eighteen hours when I clocked out for the day and went down to the wards. I had a patient on the ward that I wanted to visit before I went home. As is the way of things, during the time I was in house, there was a serious accident and I was called to help. I worked Trauma for the next five hours before an emergency surgery had to be performed on a man who could lose the use of his leg if it wasn't rebuilt properly. Since I was already there, I was paged and was in surgery for almost six more hours with him before I could get away by switching with a colleague of mine. I had been on duty now for over thirty straight hours. I got a colleague of mine to take my next shift since I would be too tired to be effective and he agreed. I got out of the hospital before any more could happen and got in my car to drive home. I had called my wife earlier to tell her I was going to be delayed but that I would call if I could get away before my next scheduled shift. I hadn't remembered to call Nancy before I left letting her know that I had switched, so I tried now. I called her cell phone just to be sure and got her voice mail and left a message saying I was heading home. It was just after one o'clock in the afternoon so I expected her to be home anyway. She worked part time for a Real Estate company as a receptionist but wouldn't be working today. I wasn't scheduled home until later that evening so since she hadn't received my call, she would assume I was on shift now. I pulled into the drive, noticing that a strange car was already there. I had no idea who it could be. I thought maybe it was a friend who stopped by since Nancy was home. I dragged myself into the house, my mind clouded by fatigue after almost thirty straight hours of working. I looked around the kitchen and the rest of downstairs and found nobody home. My muddled brain concluded that they must be out shopping or some such. Without any further thought, I headed for the steps, my body barely making its way up the stairs to the bedroom and the shower. That's all I wanted now, a nice long, hot shower and then a few hours in bed. All alone, by myself. Heaven! I walked into the bedroom and was met with a sight that remained burned into my retinas for years. It's been over five years now but if I try real hard, I can still see my wife on the bed, her legs spread and a man laying on top of her and moving up and down between her legs. There was remarkably little sound but I do remember the little rhythmic squeak the bed made as he bounced up and down. I remember it was eek, eek, eek, or something like that. That sound, like the sight, was also burned into my memory. I don't know what I thought at that instant but I didn't say a word. All I can remember is turning away and walking out of the room. At this point it all becomes a little blurry. I tried to remember it later but it was as if it happened to someone else and I was too tired to watch. All I know is that they said I went out of the room, got a baseball bat out of my son's room and then came back to the bedroom where my wife Nancy and her boss and lover Hugo Bentz were still in the process of fucking each other to death. I hit Hugo on the back with the bat, and then when he noticed me, I swung it again, hitting him in the side, breaking several ribs, jamming one into his lung. It then appears I continued to beat him with the bat until my wife jumped on me, knocking me down. I apparently got up and tried to push her away before she ran out of the room into our son's room and locked the door. She called 911 and they came shortly after. They found me sitting in the family room, staring off into space, the bat still in my hands and covered in blood. When they asked me if I was alright, I couldn't answer. I just dropped the bat and stood up. I wasn't aware of anything at that point. Whatever was driving me before was gone. I couldn't respond when they asked me my name or anything else, my brain fried. I remained that way for days afterward. Hugo was still upstairs in our bed, unconscious. He was taken to the emergency room and I guess it was touch and go for awhile before they got him stabilized. I had given him a concussion, broken several bones in his arms and legs and a couple of ribs. I was told later that he needed multiple surgeries but he recovered with no complications. Nancy was not hurt and she told the police what happened. Since Hugo was there with my wife's permission, the state decided to charge me since I had attacked him while there as my wife's guest. Can you beat that? My wife invited him over to fuck her in my house and in my bed and I was the bad guy. The first I remember is sitting in a small room with a very serious man asking me questions. I woke up, looked at him strangely then began to respond normally. At that point a policeman came in, handcuffed me and I was arraigned and charged with felony assault. That all happened several days later. I had been in a hospital, unresponsive for all that time but now I was magically cured, and I could pay for my crimes! Nancy tried to talk to me while I was in jail waiting trial but I refused to see her. She tried to post bail but I refused and I refused her attempt to hire a lawyer. I asked and was given a court appointed attorney. He told me that the state was a little anxious about their case since Nancy refused to testify against me so they were willing to deal. I told him that I wanted to plead guilty which caused him to begin to argue with me but I refused to discuss it any further and told him to work it out. He wanted to know why I would do something so insane; his word, not mine. I let him rant and rave until he seemed to have worn himself out and then I calmly explained it to him. I understood that my wife had cheated on me with the man I almost killed. I knew that I was impaired in my judgment and, with my wife's unwillingness to testify against me, that meant that I could probably get off. But, and this was important to me and my sense of who I was, I had almost killed a man in anger and, for that, I insisted that I pay! And anyway, what was I going to go home to? A wife who was dissatisfied with me as a husband? A son who would be so disappointed in his father that he would come to hate me for what I had done? He listened, shaking his head over and over but in the end, it was my decision and not his and I chose my fate. When they arraigned me, I pleaded guilty, the judge asked me a bunch of questions as if I were a moron, and finally accepted my plea. Sentencing was scheduled and I told my lawyer to go for a deal. He was a good lawyer with a good heart so he did as I asked. I think he still tried to get me the best deal he could, so it wasn't all bad. Once I was sent to jail, I refused all attempts for Nancy to see me. I sent her a short note telling her never to try to see me or to bring my nine year-old son to see me. I would refuse to see him as well and I told her why. I never wanted him to see where I was living. That would hurt me more than anything else would: for my son to see his father behind bars and in a place like this. One of the reasons I pled guilty and accepted the plea deal was so as to eliminate the humiliation to my wife and son. I promised myself that what I did would never reflect on them. It was my crime and my sin and I would pay for it. My first year in jail was a real nightmare but I got lucky. They paired me with a man by the name of Bruno Conseco. He was in for murder and he was a lifer. He learned I was a doctor in my other life and took a liking to me. He said we could do pretty well if I was to offer medical advice, letting him handle me as my 'agent'. I refused initially, but after the first beating when I looked wrong at someone, I agreed, and he took it from there. Soon after, using my medical knowledge, I made a few friends, became known and respected and generally left alone. Bruno and I shared the spoils of my 'consulting fee' which usually consisted of cigarettes, sugar candy of any kind, magazines with women, and the like. We did pretty well and I became 'well off'. Bruno was transferred some time after to a max security jail someplace else and I was on my own, but I was OK by that time and knew the ropes so I survived. After that first year in jail, I was notified that Nancy was filing for divorce. She requested a meeting with me but instead, I sent her a note. I refused to see her and congratulated her on her new life with lover boy. I told her to write her own terms and I would sign without contesting it. I just wanted it over and done with and she could have it all; the house, the cars, the clothes and jewelry. We had a nice bank account at the time which should last her long enough to collect on the insurance policy I kept that covered her and my son in the event I was unable to work for any reason. I had no desire to contest it since I knew from the minute my fatigued brain took over that day that my marriage was over. I would miss my son but that was as it should be. No son should ever have to see his father in prison or to have a jailbird as a father. That was just wrong on so many levels! All of that happened years ago now and I was able to forget most of it. I spent a little time with the prison shrink and I actually found myself able to forgive Nancy for what she did to me. He told me that forgiveness was not for her benefit but for mine. He was right! I remember feeling so much better after that. I sometimes went for weeks without thinking of my previous life, but I never stopped remembering both my son and my wife. It's funny that I never stopped loving either one of them even after what she did to me. In my memory, her cheating faded and I remembered the good times. I think that spending so much time alone made the good times much better and the bad times a little less bad. I think that was true. Anyway, the day of my release came and believe it or not, I had a few bad moments saying goodbye to some of the other guests of our beloved OSP. Owen of course; Tiny, who saved my life a couple of times early on; Benny five-fingers, Tony T, Pan, Willie, and several others. I had spent the past three years working in the hospital and I had treated many of the other cons. I did save Benny's life by diagnosing a tumor, and Tiny got a reduced sentence on appeal after I told his lawyer I found a hormone imbalance that caused some of his behavior problems. I was leaving but my contacts with them were some of the ones I would cherish in later years. These friends were the ones that would remain regardless of what happened to me. We had been through hell together and that was a bond no one could break. Their friendship was honest and based on mutual respect, unlike many in the outside world. The Doctor, The Ex-Con I collected my few meager belongings and was escorted out of the gates and released just outside the entrance. The sound of that big chain link fence slamming shut behind me was unique and I turned to see the source. Freedom! It was the sound of freedom! I watched the guard come over and throw the bar that locked it. He raised one hand in salute and I returned it. Funny, even the guards were friends in that strange sort of way. I blinked in the bright sunshine and saw Jason waiting for me in a bright red Cadillac CTS. He waved, I walked slowly toward him, walking like most cons, my shoulders hunched up, subconsciously expecting a bullet in the back. He grabbed me in a bear hug and pushed me into the car. He got back in, put the car in gear and I left the OSP behind me. I never looked back. Chapter 2 – A New Life That was six months ago now and I was back in practice in Jason's clinic in Columbus, Ohio. We did only high profile cases, working mainly in the area of reconstruction, and the money was wonderful. I was already making more than I had ever had before and I was adjusting to living free again without looking over my shoulder every time I wanted to do something or go somewhere. It was hard at first, jumping at every loud sound or ducking whenever I heard someone shout, but it was getting easier. I always looked around when I went into a building and looked for the exits and I still had difficulty looking directly into someone's eyes. When I was on the inside, the guards took that as a threat and we were instructed to look at our feet when talking to one of them. The only restriction on my freedom was that I had to physically report-in every two weeks to my parole officer but he told me that it wouldn't be too long before he let me slide and just make random visits. He had all my information, my address and my work number. I was his for the next two years which meant that I had to remain nearby for that same period. But otherwise, it was freedom and more than I had for the last five years. I took the first month's money and found a small apartment on the outskirts of the downtown area. The rent was cheap since it was in a run-down neighborhood but the apartment was large and had a lot of windows. It was full of light and that's all I cared about. It had two big bedrooms and a full kitchen but that wasn't too important to me. I just needed a microwave to nuke some frozen dinners and I was fine. I had enough to swing the first and last and some left over to buy a mattress and some blankets as well as a whole lot of cans and frozen dinners. The rest of the furniture would come later as I got more money. I was used to a cot, a stainless steel john and a washbasin. This place was heaven to me. I moved in and made it home. Over the next few months, I bought more stuff from yard sales and adds in the paper for miscellaneous. That was fine for me: the need for expensive toys and goodies was gone, prison putting it in its proper prospective. By the end of five months, I had a real bed, a dresser and a chest, a couch, a TV, and a kitchen table with three chairs. The second bedroom was empty and I had no need to fill it. I was satisfied and settled in. I let Eileen know where I was and gave her my new phone number and she promised to keep in touch. She wanted to know what my plans were but all I told her was that I wanted to let myself get used to dealing with normal people again and doing the job I was hired to do. The rest would come with time. When I was fully settled and found myself bored, I got hold of a contact that Tiny gave me before I left. Tiny was from Mansfield, a town not too far from Columbus and he had a lot of contacts in the outside world. One was a PI and I called him to locate my ex-wife and my son. I just wanted to know where they were and what name they were using. I had no desire for anything more at this time. We met, I gave him my last address, her name and SS number and my son's name. I didn't know what last name she was using now so I left it up to him. In less than a week, he came up with all of the information I had requested. He filled me in, shook my hand and refused my money saying "You're a friend of Tiny's so your money's no good here. I know what you did for him. Anything else you want to know, you call. I'll get it for you." I thanked him and watched him walk away. Prison! Not something I would recommend but the friends I made in there were friends for life and the benefits more than anyone in the outside world could imagine. I would make use of some of them later. When I got home to my apartment I nuked a meatloaf and mashed potato dinner, took it over to the small table that I had located right next to a full wall of windows and sat down with my envelope. I opened it and read what the PI found. Nancy Montoya, age 35. Son, Ruben Montoya, age 14. Address: See attached with local phone number. No phone listed for Ruben. Interesting that she hadn't changed her name. I guess it was to keep the same name as our son. I was surprised that she hadn't remarried and that no one had adopted Ruben. She was a gorgeous woman, one most men noticed, and could have any man she wanted. Maybe she was just living with one now. I took a bite of the meatloaf, telling myself that I didn't really care, and continued. Ms Montoya and son live together in a small bungalow in a subdivision of Groveport. There are no others living in the home and Ms Montoya works at a veterinary clinic in Groveport proper. Ruben goes to school in Groveport and is in the ninth grade. There is no record of any civil or criminal activity for either Ms Montoya or the boy. No known associates for Ms Montoya. No male friends but she does go out with several female friends. Names are available. Ruben has many contacts but one, Eddie Clemons, also 14, is frequently at the residence. Ruben also stays with Clemons on occasion. Bank records show a modest savings account, a checking account with normal activity and only one credit card. Current balance is $235.67. Current savings account is $154,000 and checking account is $1,233.90. Public records show a sale of property in Brentwood subdivision of southern Columbus three years ago with proceeds deposited in a local bank. Transferred funds later into a separate account and to current bank account. No record under known SS numbers for the second account. (Could find out more if you request.) Our home was worth a lot more than that and it didn't have a mortgage. I really couldn't remember much about that time so I just accepted the figures. It made no difference to me anyway. I gave her everything in the divorce. I wanted to leave that house and all its memories behind forever. It was rare that I saw flashes of Hugo on top of Nancy now and even those were fleeting. I didn't even feel the pain now. I guess the isolation for the past five years washed it all away. In curiosity, I tried to remember that afternoon but got nothing but vague images. No emotion at all. I put the envelope aside and finished my meal. I washed it down with a diet Pepsi, my drink of choice now and settled down for an evening of TV. I was surprised when I looked at TVs to find those wide screens. I was so impressed that I bought one for myself. It was the only luxury I gave in to, but that was my choice as well. I wanted nothing more than to be left alone. No bars, no chance of fights, no restaurants or cafes, nowhere there were more than two or three people at a time, at least for the first two years. It was slow becoming used to people again and I was not in any rush. After an unusually busy month, I found that my share of the partnership was large enough to buy myself some transportation. I debated on what to get and settled on a used Ford pickup that I paid cash for. The idea of driving a truck took my fancy and I was pleased. I guess my past life was completely gone and the new me was beginning to establish himself. Actually, the new me was a completely different person now. I thought that was a good change, but time would tell. Chapter 3 – A Surprise The next year went by with nothing unusual happening. I had continued to furnish my small apartment with items and now had a second bedroom that was furnished with the usual. I also bought some items for my pickup, like a new radio and new tires but that was the extent of my purchases. I had begun to branch out and went to a few of the local cafes for the occasional lunch or dinner. A real man about town. Life was good and I began to feel safe. Things were predictable. This was also good. Then I got a phone call from my parole officer. I was sitting at home as usual watching the TV when he called. "Carmine, this is Jack. Your parole officer." "Christ, Jack, I know your voice by now. You call every damned month! What the hell do you want? It isn't time for me to report in yet, and anyway, you know where I spend my time. Hey, is my parole up yet?" "Calm down, Carmine. You're still mine for the next two and a half months, then you're on your own. Reason I called, I got a call today; from someone you know. They're looking to contact you. Do you want to know who it was?" "Sure. One of the boys from OSP? You know I can't talk to them, you prick! You're just trying to catch me in a violation aren't you, you SOB? You just don't want to let me go. That's not nice, Jack!" "No, shithead. It was your boy, Ruben. He's the one that called. He found out you got out of prison and he's been trying to contact you. Left me a number after I told him I'd have to talk to you first. You don't have any restrictions against talking to family. I know you have him, your ex, your sister and her brood, and a couple of aunts and uncles." "My son? Ruben was looking for me? Damn! What the hell do I do now, Jack?" What the hell did I do was right! "I haven't seen Ruben for over five and a half, hell, almost six and a half years now! He would be a teenager, grown up. What could I say to him?" "He's your son, you idiot. You'll know what to say to him as soon as he opens his mouth. That's what parents do, you know? They talk to their kids. Usually talk way too much to the kids if you ask them. All he wants is to talk to his dad, the one he hasn't seen or talked to for a long damned time." "But why would he want to talk to me? I'm an ex-con! A parolee! Why would a kid want a dad like that? It makes no sense!" This was causing me to sweat, my hands started to shake and it was hard to catch my breath. I recognized it as a panic attack. "How'd he find you, Jack? How'd he know where to look? I didn't even tell anyone except Jason and my sister that I was getting out." "Seems your parole was mentioned in the local paper. 'Local Doc gets Parole!' or some shit like that. He saw it, or someone else saw it and told him. What's the difference?" Shit! I hadn't thought about that. Now it was common knowledge. I wondered if the other kids gave him shit. Probably. Little peckers! "What's the deal? Do I call him or do you call him? And what number did he give you. I didn't think he had a cell phone." "Seems he bought his own prepaid. His mom doesn't know about that one. She seems pretty protective according to what he told me. Tough but fair, he says. Anyway, I'll give you the number he left. The rest is up to you. That's what I told him already so if you call him, fine. If not, he understands it's your choice." I wrote down the number then hung up and just stared at the TV. Ruben, my son. It was one of the parts of the divorce and the jail sentence I hated: that I couldn't see my own son. I know it was my choice, but I didn't feel I had any other. He couldn't see his father stuck in a prison. Not a chance! I had caused him and his mother enough grief with my actions. He didn't need to remember me as a con. When I made the decision to cut all ties, it was for two reasons. First, I couldn't forget what I saw that day and I knew that I would have a hard time forgiving Nancy, so a clean break was the best thing for both of us. I didn't want her trying to convince me that she loved me or that it was a mistake or any of that stuff. Why embarrass herself? There was no need. It was obviously over between us, so let it die. The second was that a public trial would come back to haunt both of them for a long time afterwards. There would be press coverage of a trial, people judging all of us, my son subjected to ridicule and harassment, the details of my wife's affair public for all to see, and finally, the fact that I went nuts would impact both of them. The way I did it, without a trial and without publicity was cleaner, kinder and quicker for my wife. A clean break for him too. Afterwards, it took me all of the time I spent in prison to forget, but sometime during those years, I did. Even now, the thrill of seeing my son again was all I could think about. Nancy was not an issue. I knew that I still loved her and probably always would but she was part of my past now and she would have moved on with someone else. She had begun her new life without me and she was better off if I stayed out of it. I thought about it for several days but I knew that I was going to call him. I also knew that my simple, safe life was about to change! Chapter 4 -Nancy My name is Nancy Montoya. My ex-husband Carmine is in prison for assaulting a man and almost killing him with a baseball bat. It was my fault that it happened but Carmine paid the price for it. I tried to help him when he was charged but he wouldn't let me. As a matter of fact, he refused to even talk to me when he was waiting for trial. I tried to bail him out but he refused to be released. I then hired an attorney, one of the best around but Carmine refused him as well. He got a court appointed attorney. Before I even knew what happened, Carmine accepted a plea bargain and went off to prison. We have a son, Ruben, who was just nine when all this happened. The worst part was that Carmine refused to allow his son to see him in jail and then later, in prison. He refused to see either of us, ever. He sent me a note, a short one where he told me to keep Ruben away. I decided to divorce him a year later, hoping to get him to talk to me, to reconsider, but he refused again. This time the note he sent told me how much I had hurt him. I gave up, knowing I couldn't reach him and that he would never forgive me. I didn't blame him then and I still don't. I never forgave myself. I still remember what happened as if it were yesterday. I still cry myself to sleep sometimes even now, almost six years later. I get so lonely sometimes that I want to do something, go somewhere, be with someone, but I won't! I refuse to be happy, to enjoy my freedom while he is in jail. I put him there and if he has to endure being alone, so will I. It isn't as difficult as it sounds because what I did to him is what I can't forget. That day, that horrible day, when Carmine called to tell me he was held over at the hospital, I have to say I was angry. I didn't let on to him of course. It was his fault I was angry. After all, he was the one that wouldn't take the job at that fancy clinic. They wanted him to come in as a reconstruction specialist. Carmine was a genius at facial reconstruction. When someone was in an accident and their face was crushed and twisted, they wanted Carmine to be their doctor. Everyone said so. Carmine told me about the offer a month ago and I was excited about it. He talked about the money, the hours that would be scheduled to fit into a normal life unlike those at the hospital emergency room where he was on call a week out of every month. I said we could live a normal life for a change. He knew that was what I wanted, what I dreamed of. I knew how much he loved the trauma ward, the emergencies that he attended, the battered lives he saved and that was in his blood and it made him happy, but I wanted him to put us first. I wanted him to take the offer in the worst way. I loved him so much that I knew it would not be his first choice. Not for him a routine job, fixing those who could afford the exorbitant prices the clinic charged. No emergencies, no sad people who were so disfigured they would live a life of shame; that life would bore him. No, not for my Carmine. But if I had to choose between having him home more often and making more money and him doing something that made him happy, I had no choice: I had to choose time with his family. Carmine was by nature a happy person and that was one of the things I loved most about him, but I would rather have him home with Ruben and I. We could also make him happy. We talked about it, weighed the pros and cons and he finally made the decision. I voted for him to take it but he didn't agree. I knew he was pleased at the choice he made and I tried to convince myself that it was best that he be happy. I loved him and he was happy. What more could I ask for? Indeed, I asked myself then what more could I ask for? How naive was I? That was a week before the phone call that morning. Carmine had just finished a long shift but was due home to take me to the mall to do some shopping for Ruben. School was starting soon and Ruben needed some new jeans and shirts. I wanted to go and Carmine promised to go with me. Ruben and I were still asleep when he called to tell me about the emergency and that he had to stay. He was in such a hurry that I didn't have time to remind him about the shopping so I just let it go. But the frustration was there and it was eating at me as I did some laundry. This had happened several times in the last few weeks and I was angry about it. This was what I had warned him about when he turned down the clinic job. As I sorted the whites and the colors, I thought again about the job offer. God, it would have been perfect! Exactly what I wanted. More time, more money, more prestige, all those things we both talked about when we married. Carmine was a wonderful specialist and he was free to take most any assignment he wanted. But when he chose he always leaned toward the action, the emergencies, the excitement. I finally accepted that it was who he was. But the question nagged at me: why couldn't he choose us; me and Ruben, over the excitement? Why not us first? I had to admit, it really bothered me. Usually I wouldn't ask myself that, wouldn't think that way, but today my mind was not feeling so forgiving. I was bored, I hadn't seen Carmine for almost twenty eight hours and since he hadn't called later, he must have decided to work his regular shift and then come home later this evening for two days off. I guess it made sense but I was still pissed. I was talking to myself when the doorbell rang. I pushed the start button on the washer and went to answer. I opened the door to see Hugo Bentz, my boss at the Real Estate office. He was holding some folders and he looked frazzled. I invited him in, closed the door behind him and led him into the family room. "What's up Hugo? What have you got there? You look like you're not happy." Hugo held the folders out to me with a smile. "Can I ask you for a favor? Can you type the offers for me so that I can have them tomorrow morning? It would mean a great deal to me. I'll pay you the overtime." I took the folders, glanced in and saw that they were routine offers, nothing special. I wondered why no one else could do this simple task but put it out of my mind. I quickly agreed and put the folders down on the end table next to me. "Sure, Hugo, no problem. I'll have them done by morning." I chatted with Hugo for a few minutes, enjoying the break and the company. To extend the visit even a little, I asked him if he wanted a beer. He quickly agreed, I got a couple and we sat down and began talking. I had always liked Hugo, and we often flirted with each other in the office just in fun. Today seemed like any other day and we joked back and forth, flirted outrageously and had another beer. I began to relax, having fun with a man I worked with. Nothing else. The Doctor, The Ex-Con To this day, all I can remember is that I started telling Hugo about my frustration with Carmine and his job. The story was dragging out so I made us a couple of mixed drinks, heavy on the booze, the small buzz helping the telling of the tale. Hugo listened, made some comments about leaving someone as beautiful as me alone so much and how he would never do that. I was flattered and when he moved closer to me on the couch, I didn't even mind. When he put his arm around my shoulder to soothe me when I said something in anger, I didn't mind. When I stood, almost crying about the frustration and the loneliness that I felt when Carmine worked these long hours, I didn't mind when he took me in his arms and held me tight against him. I felt his erection pressing into my stomach but I didn't say anything. We stood like that for a few minutes before I put my arms around his neck and tilted my face upward. He didn't hesitate, pressing his lips against mine, his tongue probing against my lips. I opened and accepted him inside. When Hugo led me up the stairs to my bedroom, talking softly to me and rubbing my back with one hand, I didn't say anything. My mind was listening to his words and my stomach was fluttering with desire at the contact from his hand on my back. I knew this was wrong; that I was flirting with danger but I didn't stop what we were doing. I was stupid and foolish but I was so tired, so frustrated, still angry at Carmine. I was alone so much, without his warmth and his touch. I knew what I was doing was dangerous but I felt so in control. I didn't even notice that the alcohol warmed my stomach and lowered my normal inhibitions. All I wanted was some companionship. Carmine had chosen his work over me and now I was going to do something about it. That's all I wanted until it began to be something else. And I didn't stop it! I didn't stop it! Even now after I understood the consequences and the damage I did to all of us, I still didn't know why I didn't stop. Hugo unzipped the back of my housedress and pulled it away from my shoulders. It fell to the floor, leaving me in my plain cotton bra and panties. I was staring at his face, so close to mine as I felt my bra slip free. As his lips pressed against mine so softly I wasn't even sure he had kissed me, he unbuckled his pants and pushed them down to his ankles. His kiss deepened as I felt him remove my panties and then, still kissing me, he pushed me to sit on the bad, naked and unresisting. I turned my head away when he pushed the head of his erection against my lips. I hated giving head to Carmine but I would do it as often as I could just for him. He never pressed me or even asked but I would still do it for him. Hugo didn't ask and for a brief second, I almost came to my senses, but as if sensing my reluctance, he pulled away and pushed me back onto the bed. I lay back, my eyes watching him carefully as he lowered himself onto me. His lips found mine and I again stopped resisting as he moved between my legs. I was moist, already prepared for what I knew was going to happen. I wanted to say something, anything, but I was too immersed in lust now to do anything other than allow what was happening. As Hugo found my opening and pushed the head of his cock between my folds, spreading the lips open, I gave one small sigh and stopped thinking. Now it was simply feeling and I wanted this to happen. If this was wrong, I would face that later. It was now that was important and only now. There was me and my body and he and his body. Nothing else mattered, nothing else! Hugo drove inside me, his cock not as big as Carmine's but sufficient to stimulate. He began to move slowly in and out and I pulled my legs up toward my shoulders to allow him to penetrate as deep as he could. After a few more thrusts he was in and moving in a steady rhythm that was beginning to give me pleasure. I was feeling a growing surge that would eventually lead to an orgasm if Hugo could continue long enough to bring me there. I had my eyes shut and my arms down by my sides, holding onto the bedspread. As Hugo plunged in and out, my mind began to work, albeit slowly and sluggishly. This was wrong! This was Hugo, my boss, not my Carmine! What was I doing? I wanted to stop, to resist but the feeling was growing between my legs and up into my stomach. A climax was coming. I stopped thinking again, my lust taking control once more. Just as I felt my climax begin to take over, Hugo jerked violently and stopped pushing into me. I opened my eyes to see why he had stopped and saw a flash of metal as it struck Hugo on the back of the head. Hugo yelled, rolled off me, his cock leaving a trail of slime as it left my body. I saw Carmine standing at the side of the bed, his face a twisted caricature of his normal appearance, so different I almost didn't recognize him. He had the bat and as I watched, startled, he swung it again at Hugo, catching him in the side. Hugo screamed again and I rolled off the bed on the side away from Carmine. As I stood there, frightened and unsure what to do, Carmine swung the bat again and again. I knew if he didn't stop, he was going to kill Hugo. I couldn't allow him to make that mistake! I made my decision and jumped onto Carmine's back. He staggered with my weight and dropped to his knees. I held on, my arms around his neck and my knees pressing into his back. He muttered something unintelligible and broke my hold on him. I fell back, and hit my head on the door. Carmine turned and looked at me but I could see immediately that the real Carmine was not inside this person. He frightened me and I ran away, into Ruben's room where I used his phone to call 911. I locked the door and prayed that Hugo would survive my husband's anger. As I cowered in the corner, my head pressed into my knees and my hands around my legs, I could hear nothing. I finally opened the door and peeked out, not seeing or hearing anything. I crept down to the open door of our bedroom and saw Hugo lying on the floor, covered in blood, breathing but unconscious. Carmine was nowhere to be seen. I got a wet cloth to put on Hugo's forehead and then quickly put on my housedress and my shoes. I went downstairs as quietly as I could and walked into the hall. I looked in the family room and saw Carmine sitting with his head down, the bat in his hands. The bat was bloody. I whispered his name but Carmine didn't respond. I waited at the door until Emergency Services arrived. I let them in and led them upstairs to Hugo. They took over and I went back downstairs to wait for the police. When they came, they took Carmine and the bat and took him outside to their cruiser. They asked me only if Hugo was there with my permission and of course, I said yes. I couldn't lie about that. I didn't realize at the time that I had just convicted my husband of assault. They asked me who Hugo was, who Carmine was and wrote it all down. They asked me if Carmine had come upstairs and then assaulted Hugo and I admitted that it was that way. I did tell them Carmine found me in bed with Hugo but they didn't seem to care. One or two of them looked at me as if I were a piece of dirt but said nothing. After that, things were all messed up. I went down to the police station, gave my statement and then asked to see my husband. The officer disappeared, then came back and told me that my husband had refused to see me. I insisted, but he informed me that it wasn't my decision, it was Carmine's. I had called our neighbor to take care of our son who was still in school but there was nothing else I could do if Carmine wouldn't let me. I had no choice but to go home and try to clean up the mess my infidelity had caused. I hired an attorney, one of the best in the city of Columbus. He listened to my story, said he could get Carmine off on temporary insanity based on what he saw, the number of hours he had worked and the degree of fatigue. He called it impaired response syndrome. I was pleased, sure that Carmine would be acquitted. When the prosecutor asked me to testify against Carmine, I refused. He threatened to subpoena me but I still refused. I had the law on my side. I couldn't be forced to testify against my husband and I wouldn't. During this time, the only things that kept me sane were taking care of my son and the need to fight for my husband's freedom. I was constantly talking to either the lawyers or the cops or anyone else who needed information. I took actions to free up our money for his defense, posted his bond when my attorney got him bail and made myself ready for trial and the fight of my life. My guilt was put on the back burner with my fight for Carmine. I couldn't let myself feel the pain he was in. I had no time for recriminations. I had to get Carmine out and back home with me and Ruben. That was my purpose in life now and my fight. Later, I could try to save my marriage. Then my attorney told me Carmine refused bond. I asked how that was possible and he told me it was Carmine's right to refuse bond. Few people did but it was their right. All he had to do was not agree to the conditions of release. Bond was revoked and he stayed in jail. Next, when my attorney went to see him, Carmine fired him. He asked for and received a court appointed attorney. His money was frozen as a result of his arrest so he qualified for the court appointed lawyer. Finally, Carmine refused to speak to me at any time and I was refused admittance to the jail. I couldn't see him or speak to him or help him in any way. He closed me out! I went home the day he told the jailers that I was not to be admitted to his cell or to visit with him at any time. I went home, went upstairs to the spare bedroom and sat down on the bed. I sat there for the longest time before the tears started, and once they came, they came with a vengeance. I cried for the next two days, unable to function. My guilt, the guilt I had so successfully suppressed for so long came out and it devastated me. I knew what I had done. I remembered the pain I saw in Carmine's eyes that day as they led him away. I knew the loneliness that my son and I would feel from this day forward. And I knew that the fault lay directly at my feet. I got up two days later and cleaned myself up. I had to collect my son from Carmine's sister. She had been keeping him while I fought to save Carmine. I had to tell her that I failed and I had to endure the shame that I would feel as I faced her. She knew what I did, I had no choice but to tell her why Carmine was in jail and what forced him to do what he did. Her reaction was not what I expected: she didn't yell at me, scorn me, blame and chastise me. All she did was ask what she could do to help me. I asked her at that time to take Ruben and she did so without question. He had been with her since that horrible day. Now it was time for him to come home. I had resigned my job of course. I couldn't work there any more. Even if Hugo was in the hospital, it was not possible for me to be anywhere he was likely to show up. He was no longer a part of my life. Maybe it was too late but it had to be. I didn't hate him, since it takes two to tango. I did blame him, as much as I blamed myself. We both knew what we were doing. I risked my marriage and my home; he risked nothing. What happened was a freak, an accident of timing. Why I had allowed it to go forward was still a mystery to me and one for which I could find no satisfactory answer. It just was and regret would not change it. I truly felt nothing for Hugo and I loved my husband. I always would. That never changed and it wasn't going to. I had screwed up but I still loved Carmine with all my heart. He would be happy to know the pain I was going through knowing that I had lost him by my own actions. He would be so happy! Chapter 4 – Life goes on Ruben came home and I began the process of living my life without my husband. I still had hopes that he would get out soon, even if he wouldn't let me help him. Ruben knew that his father was in jail and he knew why but not what provoked the attack. I would tell him soon but not now. He was too young to understand and too young to have to bear that weight. I got him back in school and tried to make things as normal for him as possible. It was hard but I kept it on the positive side. Time was all I had now. Time to think of what I did, what Carmine was going through, and time until Carmine was home again. I was surprised a week later when I went to the jail to see if Carmine needed anything. He still wouldn't see me or speak to me but the guards would deliver messages and I just asked them to ask him if he needed anything from home. That day, when I spoke to the guard, he seemed surprised that I was there. "Hello Mrs. Montoya. What are you doing here today?" "Hi, Fred. Can you see if my husband needs anything from home? I know I've asked before but he may have found something he needs." "Not likely. He's been moved to the Penitentiary in Youngstown. He got a deal and he's begun serving his time. Seven to ten. Sent there two days ago. You didn't know?" "No. No, I didn't know. No one told me." He had been moved? Accepted a deal? Why would he do that? He could have been found innocent, or at least sent to a hospital for a short stay then released. Why would he accept a deal? I turned and blindly walked out the door, understanding that my husband had decided to deal with his future without me or our son. How could he be so cruel, especially to Ruben, his only son? Me, I understood: his anger at me was too new and too raw. But his son? I called my lawyer, the one that Carmine refused and asked him to find out what happened. He called back later that day and told me Carmine had pleaded guilty, took a reduction to simple assault and got seven to ten years in the Ohio State Penitentiary. He spoke to Carmine's court appointed lawyer and he told him that Carmine refused any appeal or any other chance at a reduced sentence. He began serving his sentence on Monday of this week. That was when I gave up hope. Now it was real. My husband was not coming home anytime soon. I was truly alone now. Alone with my son; Carmine's son. He was all I had. And my memories. Those memories made my nights hell. My son helped during the day, but at night in my bed, alone, the memories came. It's amazing how the mind keeps going back over those memories that cause us pain. I remembered Carmine standing there and the look on his face when he found me with Hugo. I remembered him sitting there with the bat in his hand and the blank look on his face. I remembered the dead look in his eyes as the police led him away. I didn't remember Hugo or him fucking me at all. That was a blank. So much for that! A week after Carmine began serving his sentence I had a new bed delivered and the old one taken away. Sleeping in that bed with my memories of what I had done gave me too many sleepless nights, and the relief that brought was a blessing for a few days. In addition, I had the house appraised and a realtor draw up a plan just in case. I was living on the money left in the checking and savings accounts but I would soon need a job to begin bringing money in. During this time, Hugo recovered and he asked me to come see him. I went, just to make sure he knew we were no longer working together and that he was no longer welcome in my home or in my life. As we talked, Hugo made it clear to me that he expected me to continue to be his sex toy or he would sue Carmine in Civil Court for damages. He said that unless I did, he would make sure Carmine never had a dime to his name once he got out. He laughed as he told me this. I listened, shocked at the bastard he was. How had I never noticed this before? When Hugo was done with his threat, I stood up, looked him directly in the eye and threatened to sue him for sexual harassment and unwanted sexual advances. He laughed but I made it clear I was dead serious. I reached for the phone beside his bed and asked him if I should call my lawyer now. He sputtered and argued with me but finally agreed to not pursue it any further. I put the phone down and as I walked out of the room, he gave it one last try. "I promise you this, you little bitch! When he does get out, I'll make it my business to know, I'll wait until he begins to work and then I'll sue his ass in Civil Court for every penny he makes for the rest of his sad, pathetic life. He'll be sorry he ever raised his hand to me. And what will be even better is that you won't be able to do a damned thing since it will be all past history. But not my injuries!" I continued out the door, believing his words were just bravado. Almost a year later, I made a decision to begin my life without Carmine. I had no choice as he made it clear. Although I didn't want it, I decided to file for divorce, sell the house and buy something much smaller for Ruben and me. There was far more than enough money in the house and the insurance policy if I managed it properly. I wanted to be certain I had enough for Ruben's college fund. That was not negotiable. I also searched the want adds and found a job working as a receptionist in a small veterinary clinic. It was a good job, the people were nice and the money was enough combined with what I had to keep us comfortable. I wrote Carmine a letter, to be delivered with the divorce petition, asking him to speak with me and let me explain why I was filing. It was only because I had to provide for Ruben and me while Carmine was gone, but I also hoped it would allow me to see if there was any way we could still go on as a family. I held my breath until the note I sent was returned with Carmine's congratulations for my new life with my lover, Hugo. He also told me that everything we had was mine and he wanted nothing. He would agree to whatever terms I worked out but he wanted to be free of me. I had expected nothing else but to see it written out in his own handwriting was so damned final. I lost it then. I couldn't help myself. I spent the next day in tears, much as I had the in the days after I betrayed him. After I had gotten that out of my system, I wrote a small note to be delivered to him telling him that Hugo and I never spoke after that day and that I no longer worked for the same company. It was futile and would make no difference, but I couldn't let him go on believing Hugo was part of his son's life. I made sure that the prison doctor would make sure he read it. That was all I could do. But, I had to move forward, to provide for me and for our son. Once the divorce was final, I sold the house, not without some regret. It was worth quite a bit and I took three quarters of that and deposited it into a separate account for Carmine. He didn't have to know about it until he was released. I owed him that. I found a small bungalow just right for Ruben and I, close to the vet clinic where I worked and bought it outright. I wouldn't have to worry about making mortgage payments. I enrolled Ruben in school and he quickly made friends and began to adjust. He had stopped asking about his father when I convinced him that Carmine was gone and too far away to see us. We began our life over and time passed. It was several years later that Ruben mentioned Carmine. When he was twelve, he asked me why his father was in prison. It was a question he had continued to ask and I continued to try to avoid telling him the truth. I tried to skim over it with platitudes much as I had been doing for several years but this time, he would not let it go. Someone had told him that his father was in the penitentiary for almost killing a man and Ruben wanted to know the details. I decided it was time. I sat him down and told him the complete truth, not sparing myself in the details. Ruben listened closely, remained quiet after I had finished and then simply said, "I don't blame dad for doing what he did. He had to do it." Then he walked away and never mentioned it again. I expected recriminations from him but none came. He simply accepted it and went on. Or so I thought. The Doctor, The Ex-Con Chapter 6 – Ruben When I was in the seventh grade, Eddie, my best friend, told me he found a clipping in his mother's stuff that told about my dad being arrested for assault with intent to kill some man. I didn't want to believe it but he showed me the clipping. I read it over twice, and it was true. My dad was arrested after almost killing some guy with my baseball bat. It happened when I was nine and that was the last time I saw him. He must have gone to jail right away because I remember he never came home after that. At the time, mom wouldn't tell me what happened and said it would have to wait till I was older. I kept the clipping and when I went home that night, I asked her straight out to tell me what happened. She wasn't going to do it but I kept at her till she made me sit down and then she told me the whole story. She said it was all her fault, and it was because she made a very bad mistake. She was in bed with her old boss when dad came home and saw them together. She said he had a 'breakdown' whatever that was but that it wasn't dad's fault. He had been working at the hospital for over thirty hours without sleep and he wasn't himself that day. She said when he walked in and saw them together, he just snapped. He took my baseball bat and hit the man several times before she made him stop. She said the man recovered without any problems but that dad was so upset that he had hurt someone that he couldn't get over it and wanted to pay the price. She told me she tried to get him off with a lesser sentence but dad was too angry to accept her help and wanted nothing to do with her after what he saw. Instead, he insisted that he was guilty and they sent him to prison for seven years. I listened, understanding what it was she did. I read stories and I saw what people did on the internet. I knew she had sex with that other man and I knew that meant she had cheated on my dad. She admitted it and didn't try to worm out of it. I thought that was pretty cool of her, even if it did make me mad at her. I asked why he wouldn't see us and she said it was because he was too proud to have me see him in jail like that. When I asked if she ever went, she looked very sad when she said dad wouldn't talk to her at all. He hadn't spoken to her since that day he saw her with that other man. I asked her why he wouldn't talk to her and all she said was that dad couldn't forgive her for what she did to him. She said he was hurt very much and that he wanted to forget about her. She didn't say he wanted to forget about me so I filed that away for later. After I thought about what mom told me, I decided that it was the reason I would hear her cry sometimes late at night. I knew she missed my dad, because I could hear her talk to Aunt Eileen about it. Aunt Eileen was still friends with me and mom even after mom hurt dad, who was Aunt Eileen's brother. I heard mom tell her one day that she had some pictures of me she wanted Eileen to send to dad. Eileen said she would do that. I felt better that my dad would know what I looked like. I hoped I looked like him. I didn't say any more about it to mom and I let her think I had forgotten all about it but I hadn't. I talked to Eddie about it and he suggested I talk to one of my teachers, one that I liked real well and who treated us kids like adults. He was cool and I knew I could trust him. I told him where my dad was and I asked him how I could get in touch with him. He told me he would check into it and get back to me. It was a week later when he called me to stay after class. He told me then who to call for information. I thanked him and began to make my plan. Eddie came up with this idea that I buy one of those cheap phones that you could buy almost anywhere. He said all I had to do was pay for it up front and I would then have so many minutes to use before it was time to either buy more or just throw it away. I had enough money saved up to do it so we went to the CVS and bought one. I waited until I was alone and called the Department of Corrections in Columbus and asked for information about Carmine Montoya. When they asked my relationship, I told them I was his son and I was eighteen. They believed me and gave me the information. I knew where he was and how to call at the prison, but when I did call, they said that dad had left clear instructions on who he would accept calls from. I wasn't on the list. They refused to talk to him for me so I asked them if I could still call for information about him. They said I could. After that, I called every few months to see if he had changed his mind or if they might have said something to him but nothing changed. It remained that way for the next two years, the time between my calls getting longer and longer with each failure to talk to him. That was until the day I called on my fifteenth birthday. That was the day they told me that my dad had been released on parole a month ago. He was out of prison! He was free! That was the best birthday present I could have wished for. When I asked if they had a number where I could reach him, they gave me one. I had a number to call to reach my dad! I decided that I wouldn't tell mom. She would try to stop me from contacting him. I knew that for sure. She would tell me it would hurt him if I were to call him. He wanted us to go on without him, she said. I heard her, but I wouldn't accept that. No way! Not my dad! I was going to talk to him if it killed me. And anyway, she was the one sending him my pictures so he had to think about me when he got them. So there! I called the number they gave me and I got this man who said he was dad's parole officer. After I told him who I was and that I wanted to talk to my dad, he said he would get in touch with dad and tell him. But he told me it was dad's decision if he wanted to call me back. I did understand what he told me but I could hope. I gave him the number and he promised he would call dad and let him know it was me. I hung up and felt excited now. I was close to talking with my dad! I hadn't seen him since I was a little kid and I really missed him. I could still remember him coming in my room at night and kissing my forehead. Sissy stuff, but I loved it. I never told anyone but I did. It was a week later, a week that seemed like it took forever to me, that I got a call on my cell phone. I still had it and kept it turned on and charged even though I never used it to call anyone else. It was just for my dad. I was walking home, my friend Eddie with me when it rang. I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, paralyzed. It was dad! He called me! What do I do? I stood there stupidly staring at Eddie until he said, "Answer it stupid!" "Hello?" I held my breath. "Hi. Is this Ruben? Ruben Montoya?" The voice was deep, sort of soft but clear. I would have known that voice anywhere. I heard it sometimes in my dreams. It was him! "Dad? Is it really you?" "Yeah, it's me. Does your mom know you called me? Is she there now?" "No. I got a cheap phone, you know the ones you just buy and activate? She doesn't even know I have this one. I was afraid you'd call when I was home. I didn't tell her I was going to call you. Actually, I've been calling the prison for the last year or so, just waiting for you to be let go. They wouldn't let me talk to you or even give you a message so I called every few months." "Who gave you my PO's number?" "What's a PO?" "He's my parole officer, the one you called. Who gave you his number?" "The prison. Dad, where are you? Are you coming home now that you're out?" "Ruben, that's no longer my home. Your mother and I are divorced and it's for the best. She's moved on now and that's how it should be. You know that." "That's not true dad. She never goes out on dates and she never sees any men. She still cries at night sometimes and she's sorry for what she did. She misses you, I know. She doesn't talk about you but that's just to make it easier on me. She told me what she did and she made a mistake. You have to come back! You have to!" "No, Ruben, I don't have to. It's better for both of you if I'm out of the picture. I'm a con, an ex-prisoner, and I've spent the last five years in a prison with other violent men. I don't even know how to live by myself yet. I'm still learning not to respond in violence when someone bothers me or insults me. No, I'm not the father you remember." "Dad, please! I want to see you; talk to you. I want to get to know you again. I was just a kid when you went away. I'm fifteen now, almost a man. Let me come to where you are. Just once! At least one time." There was silence from the other end and I though he had hung up. I was about to say something more when he said, "Let me think about this for a while. I promise, I'll call you back. I need to decide what is best. Is that OK? Can you wait?" Of course I could wait if I had to! I didn't want to though, but I did want to see him and if I got too pushy, he would just hang up and ignore me like adults did. "Sure dad, I can wait. I'll keep the phone turned on. It's best if you call during the afternoon. Mom is usually working then so it'll be private. Is that OK?" "That's just perfect. So, I'll call you." There was a pause again, not very long this time before he said, "Goodbye ... son." I pushed the 'end' button on the phone and just stared at it. "So what'd he say? What'd he say to you? Come on, Ruben, what'd he say?" Eddie was hopping around me, waving his hands in frustration. "He said he'd think about it and call me back. I know he's going to let me see him. I just know it. I'll get to see my dad!" "Cool man. He's a real tough guy, an ex-con. He almost beat a guy to death for shittin' in his yard! That's cool man. That's real cool!" Eddie was grinning from ear to ear. But I didn't like the words he was using. "Stop it, Eddie! He's my dad, not an ex-con! You just forget that part. It's no one's business but his and mine. You can know, but you have to forget it." "Sure, Rube, I'll keep it secret. Just between you and me. And if he comes, you have to introduce me. You promise?" "Sure. I promise." But I knew that if he called me back, I would keep it between him and me. My dad! I was going to see my dad after all these years! I was on pins and needles for the next few days waiting for his call. It was a Monday afternoon, just a week since I talked to him, and I had begun to think he was not going to call me back when my phone finally rang. It was just past three o'clock in the afternoon and I was on my way home from school. Eddie was not with me today, since he had band practice on Monday and Wednesday. I was alone and in no hurry to go home to an empty house. "Hi, dad, is that you?" "Sure is. Can you talk? Where are you right now?" "I'm alone and walking home. Mom doesn't get home for another hour and a half. I have a lot of time." "Good. I've given it a lot of thought and I do want to see you. I just want to get together once to say some things to you that are important, but I want you to understand that this is not an attempt to get our family back together. I know that is what you want but it's not going to happen. Do you understand that? If you don't, I won't do this." I wasn't ready to accept that but I was smart enough to know I had to go along with him right now if I wanted to see him. I answered him, telling him what he wanted to hear. "Sure dad. I understand. I won't tell mom or anyone. Just tell me what you want me to do." "OK, you get out of school at three o'clock and you walk home from there. You call your mom and let her know you're there. Is that right?" "How do you know all that? Who told you?" I was really surprised at what he seemed to know. Was he already here? Was he watching me right now? "I know a lot of people and they do favors for me. I had someone do some checking on you, that's all. Is what I said right?" "Yes. It's pretty close. So, what do I do?" "Nothing out of the ordinary. I'll be there one day next week. Just do what you always do and I'll find you. It's best if you don't know exactly when. Do you understand?" My heart was pounding with joy and I was walking on air as I assured him I understood. I would keep this a secret from Eddie, and of course mom could never know. I headed home, happy and content. I could wait another week. It had been almost seven years since I saw my dad. Seven years! Now I was going to be with him! Chapter 7 - Nancy I had just finished washing one of the dogs, getting him ready for neutering when Ruben called. It was a cute little Poodle, a miniature white almost ten months old. He was happy now, not knowing what was coming. Actually, it didn't hurt and they never knew anything was done. I pulled him out of the tub, wrapped him with a towel and put him down on the table where I would use the blow dryer to complete the job. His tongue was trying to reach my face as I rubbed him with the soft towel. I flipped open my cell and held it to my ear while I completed the job on the poodle. He was quiet and almost asleep, enjoying the attention. "Hi honey. Are you home?" "Yeah, mom, I'm home. What do you want to do about dinner? Want me to start anything or do you want me to call for takeout?" His voice always gave me a feeling of comfort just knowing he was safe and home where he belonged. He was getting older and would soon be going out more and more but until then, he was mine. I treasured him. He was my life now and had been for the past seven years, ever since... "That sounds good. Why don't you call for Italian since you like that so well. I'll stop on the way and pick it up. Sound good?" "OK, mom. I'll get the pasta and the garlic bread you like so well. I'm having the meatball sandwich. I'll see you when you get here." "OK, honey. Bye." I dropped the phone into my hand and put it back in my pocket while I finished brushing out the poodle. He was a sweet dog and made no fuss when I put him back in the cage to wait for his operation. I cleaned up around the table and the cages before clocking out. I was done at four thirty and the late shift would cover the actual operation. We did a few during the day but we primarily handled the examinations and the shots. I did X-rays, some teeth cleaning and a few shots, but more often assisted Dr. Jane, the veterinarian. She gave me this job and made sure I learned the ropes. She was a life saver for me at a time in my life when I was at my lowest. I never told her the whole story, just that my actions had caused my husband to divorce me and that was that. She didn't press me in any way and simply offered me an ear if I wanted one. I changed out of my uniform and into my street clothes and then shut my locker. There were eight of us all together so we each had a locker and a mail slot of our own. I didn't bother to get a lock for the door and just trusted my co-workers to leave my stuff alone. So far, nothing had been touched and I had no reason to believe it would be otherwise. I punched the time clock, waved goodbye to the two girls that had come on for second and left. I was talking to myself, going over the things I had to do on the way home when my cell phone rang. That was a surprise since no one but my son had the number. The called ID was registering only that the call came from Columbus. No identification of the caller. I debated on answering, thinking it was probably a blind call from some salesman. I finally shrugged, flipped it open and answered. "Hello? This is Nancy. How can I help you?" Just like in the office. There was a moment of silence and I repeated my greeting. "Hello! Is anyone there?" This time someone cleared their throat and then, "Nan, this is Carmine." I stopped so quick I almost fell forward. My heart had started pounding, my face felt flushed and hot like I had been running, and I realized I hadn't let out the breath I was holding. I had to say something! Anything! "Ca ... Carmine? Is this really you?" As if I didn't recognize his voice. I had heard it over and over the last seven years. I could hear his voice on the phone telling me that there was an accident and he had to stay and help. I was angry because I wanted him to take me shopping. It was the last thing he said to me, and it made me angry. I wanted to go shopping! Shopping! God help me, that was what I was thinking at the time. "It's really me. I had to call you to let you know that Ruben contacted me. Did you know he did that? Did he tell you?" His voice was calm, without anger or condemnation. It was still his voice and it sounded like the old Carmine. There was no anger, no pain. Nothing out of the ordinary. But I didn't hear the love that I used to hear either. Why did I think there would be anything left after all this time? "No, I didn't know. How did he contact you? And what did he want? And how did you know my cell number. I never gave it to anyone but Ruben. Did he tell you to call me?" "No. He has a cell phone. One of those prepaid things anyone can buy. I don't know how he activated it but he did. He called the prison, got the name and number of my parole officer and then called him. He told me and I called Ruben." This was so much information to take in all at once. My husband who I hadn't talked to in almost seven years calls me to tell me my son had called him. He was out of prison! He was out of prison! And my son knew and called him. Ruben called his father! I was still standing in the parking lot, staring off into space, trying to find some way to make sense of this. God! Carmine was out of prison! That was the only thing I could think of. Ruben called him but Ruben was a very intelligent boy and he had been taking care of himself for some time. I had no worries about him. And that he called his dad? Why wouldn't he? He never stopped loving his father, no more than I did. I was surprised that he had a cell phone but not surprised that he called. "Well, I'm not surprised, Carmine. You walked away from us seven years ago but he never forgot you. He asked about you for several years after you left but I thought he had finally given up. "I had no idea what happened to you since you refused any contact and the prison simply said you wanted no contact with me. I didn't even know you pleaded guilty and went to prison until I went to the jail to see if you needed anything. A guard had to tell me. No one else would. And now you're out of jail and I had no idea. I gave up years ago trying to get you to talk to me, Carmine. I guess Ruben didn't." Carmine didn't answer right away. I waited and waited but he didn't say anything. I decided he had all he wanted of me so I said, "I guess that's all? Just to let me know Ruben contacted you? Well, I'll talk to him and tell him you have no desire to see him or me. That should make his life a lot simpler." Still nothing. Well, I don't know what I expected. I was ready to hang up the phone when Carmine said something that shook me to the core. "Wait! Wait, Nan, please. I'm sorry that I'm not always as polite as I should be. It takes time after five years in that place. I sometimes forget to answer people when I talk to them, especially when I don't know them very well." He sounded so sad at that. I felt my heart break for him for what he had to endure. But then to go there was his choice. I still felt bad for him, knowing I was the one at fault in the first place. "I told Ruben that I would like to see him again. I told him that I would tell him when. I would like to see you as well. If that would be alright with both of you." Oh, God! Oh, God please don't do this! How could I stand to see him again without breaking down? How could I refuse? How could I not refuse? I had built a life without him, a life that was less than I would like but a life nevertheless! I had learned to be without him after years of trying! Now he wanted to see us! The Doctor, The Ex-Con I couldn't see him again! Ruben couldn't see him! He wasn't going to stay with us as a family so I had to stop this before it broke Ruben's heart. I had to say the only thing I could think of to say without destroying my carefully built life. I had to tell him to stay away from us and never contact us again. That's what I had to tell him. Of course I did. "That would be fine, Carmine. We could meet you wherever you want. Just tell me when and where." "Let me call you back. I'll have to arrange with my parole officer to travel to see you. He should let me do that. I'll call you tomorrow. It was good talking to you again, Nancy. Goodbye." Before I could say anything, he was gone. Just as quickly as he entered my life, he was gone again. But he said he would call tomorrow. He would call. I would wait to talk to Ruben until I heard from him again. I wasn't going to get his hopes up for nothing! I drove home to my son and we shared a meal of pasta and meatballs with lots of cheese and lots of sauce. Ruben always ordered extra garlic bread and he loved their lemonade. He ate with lots of energy and lots of talking and lots of innuendo. I knew he had talked with Carmine but he didn't know I knew and he was bursting at the seams to tell me. But he also believed I would be angry with him so he kept it to himself with difficulty. I smiled inside at the happiness I could feel radiating from him. He had talked with his dad! Chapter 8 - Carmine I decided that I had better call Nan before going any further towards seeing Ruben, my son. If she got it in her head I was trying to go around her to talk to Ruben, she could make trouble for me with my PO. I didn't want any trouble at this stage that could land me back in prison. I didn't need that and I didn't want to give her the wrong idea. While I never hated my time there, and the friends I made were good and valuable, I didn't want to go back to the loss of freedom. Just sitting at my kitchen table, looking out the window at the busy street was a joy that I rediscovered every morning. It was more than enough to convince me I never wanted to go back. So, before I lost my nerve, I got the number the PI left me and called her cell. She answered, we talked and the world didn't end! But it was harder to do than I ever expected. The phone call to Nan had gone better than I had hoped. She was still angry at me for cutting her off as I had, but I had no choice. She and Ruben were better off without me when I was in prison. It was entirely possible that I might never make it out of there, especially the first year or two. Things happened in prison and they were rarely talked about in polite society. I had been lucky; there was no doubt about that. But I had no way of knowing that was going to be the case. I took the only option available to me and cut myself off from both of them. It cost me more than they could ever know. At least they had each other: I had no one but myself. I had thought of my son a lot during those long nights when I had nothing to look forward to and nothing to occupy my mind. How had he grown? Was he a good kid? Did he have a lot of friends? Was he handsome and popular with the girls? Eileen told me a lot and she had pictures. I treasured the pictures and I kept them safe and dry the whole time I was in, but they weren't the real thing. Even so, I had them still. I had no pictures of Nancy and Eileen never mentioned any to me. She knew that's how I wanted it. I found out later that Nancy was the one that gave Eileen the pictures to give me. I wonder why she never included any with her in them. When I asked to see both of them, I think it was more of a surprise to me then it was to Nancy. She accepted and seemed anxious to meet but I thought I heard a hesitation in her voice. I wondered if she would rather not see me at all. If that was the case, I could give her an out tomorrow when I called back. Just let her off the hook. That might be best. Yes, that might be what she preferred. The thought of seeing her again gave me a sudden boost of energy. I had tried to put her out of my mind all the time I was being held for trial. I was successful, telling my guards not to allow her back to see me. And I denied her attempts to bail me out before the trial started just to avoid having to face her and see the betrayal in her eyes. I made the deal putting me in prison just so I would not have to face her. It was not a brave thing to do and any attempt to convince myself that I did it for them was false. I knew better. I knew the truth. I was afraid to face her. I was afraid she would tell me she didn't love me and that she wanted more than I was able to give her. I was afraid she would tell me that she loved that son of a bitch I almost killed, so I cut her out of my life. Ruben was a casualty of that fear: if he came, she would come with him and I would be able to see the truth in her eyes. That would have killed me then. Now I had some things to consider. Eileen told me when she visited that Nancy had sold the house and moved to a small town east of Columbus. She and Ruben lived alone and Nancy had gone to work at a vet's office. I wondered about that, knowing the amount of money that the house had brought and the insurance policy that would make up my salary. She had no money problems! She didn't need to work or to sell the house. When I asked Eileen, all she said was that Nancy wanted it this way. Nancy also wrote me a short note after I rejected her attempt to talk to her prior to the divorce. She wanted to let me know that she and Hugo had no further contact and that she had quit her job there. That made me happy. I distinctly remember getting that note from the doctor in the infirmary and when I read it, I almost cried. She didn't love him! That was something. I kept that note and I still have it in the box where I kept those things I brought out with me on the day I was released. They were kept in a prominent place in my small apartment. I looked at them every day and remembered and promised myself that it would never happen again. Through Eileen, she sent me notes every holiday, every birthday, every important event in my son's life. She let me know when he graduated from grade school. She sent me a copy of the article in the school paper when he was elected class treasurer. She sent me a birthday card on each of my birthdays. She sent me a Valentine's day card, a Christmas card and she told me what she got for him on each of his six birthdays. She told me about his best friend Eddie and how his family welcomed Ruben in as one of their own. She signed each one, 'Love, your wife.' I kept them all; every one. But I answered none of them. Now I was about to make the first major change in my life since I got out. Taking the job with Jason's clinic was easy. It meant getting out, getting my own place to live and earning enough money to help me begin to live again. Doing the reconstructive work that made people's lives better was pleasure for me, not work. And I was good at it and they appreciated it. They paid very well to show their appreciation. I was making more money than I had ever made and I was satisfied doing what I loved. I didn't want or need the excitement of the emergency room anymore. I wanted peace and quiet and contentment. I had two of the three now and that wasn't all bad. What I was about to do might well mess up my life. I decided to go over to my PO's office first thing in the morning and talk to him about what I planned to do. I thought Jack might be hesitant to allow me to go, but I hoped I could convince him of my good faith. He had begun to trust me and he only called once or twice a month and then he called first thing in the morning when he knew I was getting ready to go to work. He never embarrassed me by calling there and he never tried to trip me up by calling at times he knew I would be out. I ate dinner out almost every night and I ate breakfast at the clinic. I was in the apartment late in the evening but not much more. He knew where I was however so he called when he knew he could reach me. As a matter of fact, we had beers together every couple of weeks. He knew me as well as anyone and I liked to think that we could be friends once I was done with my probation. Jack was in his office, buried behind a pile of paperwork, his bald head just appearing over the top of one such stack. I found a clean chair to sit in and waited until he came up for air. "Carmine! What the hell? What are you doing here? You're not due for ... When the hell are you due? I forget!" "Not due for a few weeks, Jack. Need to ask you something and maybe get a favor from you. Mind if we talk?" "Go ahead. I need a break anyway. Want to go down the hall for a cup of coffee?" "Nah, I'd just like to get to it if you don't mind." "Go. Talk to me." "I want to go see my kid and his mom. The kid called me as you know and I talked to him. He sounds like a good kid and I'd like to see them both. I talked to Nancy, my ex and told her Ruben had called me. Didn't want any problem from her thinking I'd done an end around on her. You know?" Jack just stared at me for a few minutes, rubbing his chin and thinking. He finally grinned, slapped his hand down on the desk top and looked quite pleased with himself. "I knew it! Made a bet with the wife that you'd want to go see them. Bet a twenty on you, Carmine old boy. You do me proud! Hot Damn!" He stood, rooted through his desk and found what he was looking for. He pushed it across the desk to me. "Fill this out when you make your plans and drop it off here before you leave. I'll approve a five day trip so long as you stay within the state of Ohio. Should be no problem since they live here. And make sure I have a phone number to reach you. I'll have to call at least once." "No problem. I'll do like the kid did and get me one of those prepaid cells. Should be no problem, now that you let me get a credit card. Big fricken deal: a credit limit of $300." "Carmine, Carmine, Carmine! When are you going to learn? That card is one of those new Check Cards. It's good for whatever you have in your checking account. It will allow you to get cash with a limit of $300 a day, but you can buy any damned thing you want, and you can use it for gas or a motel room, stuff like that." We talked a little more, Jack cautioning me to take it slow with the kid and with the ex. Don't get angry and don't loose my temper. As if that was ever going to happen again. The prison shrinks made damn sure of that. I think my head would explode if I got really angry. But, I was ready and all I had to do was find the guts to make the trip. I waited until it was late before calling Nan back. I was hoping that Ruben would be in bed and I could talk to her without her having to tell him it was me. Silly, I know but so what. I dialed the number and waited. She answered on the second ring. She had been waiting apparently. Was that a good sign? "Hello. Carmine, is that you?" "It's me. Sorry to be so late but I had to go see my parole officer and still finish rounds at the clinic. I hope Ruben is in bed by now?" "He goes up early and does his homework, then talks to Eddie, his friend or some of his other friends. Then he listens to music or watches a little TV. He's a good kid, Carmine. You'd be proud of him. You really would." "I've always been proud of him, even when I was in the big house. I had the pictures you sent and all the clippings and other notes. Thank you for them. I valued them very much. It helped to pass the time." "You're very welcome. I thought you would want to know as much as you could about him. I worried that it might be too painful for you but you never asked Eileen to tell me to stop so I kept on. I'm glad they helped you." "They did. So did all the notes you wrote me. I got them all. I didn't answer, but I got them." "I'm glad. Did you make the plans yet? Are you coming to see Ruben?" "Yes. I have five days to spend with him when I come. I don't know how you feel about seeing me. I thought when I called earlier that I didn't give you a choice. I want you to know that I'll understand if you would rather me just see him. I don't want to force you to see me if you don't want to. So, if you want me to meet him someplace alone, that's OK." "Why would you get that impression? I would love to see you. It's been your choice not to see or speak to me, Carmine, not mine. You know that!" "I know. But I was afraid to see you before. But time has passed and things are different now. I would like to see you both and maybe you and I can be friends. I would like that very much." There was a silence on the other end and I was afraid I had said too much. Damn, it was hard being sociable! In the pen, we said what we thought and screw the other guy if he didn't like it. We settled it privately. At least, some did. I had rank, and that gave me protection. So, I tried not to abuse the privilege. "Carmine, just come when you can and let's take it from there. OK?" "Yeah, OK. I'm sorry. It's hard for me. I'll take next week off and travel on Sunday and be there Sunday night. I'll get a motel and call you from there. Would that be OK?" "That would be perfect. I can take Ruben out of school but I would rather not. It's getting too close to finals and he needs to be there. You can plan to pick him up after school and stay with him at our place until I get home. Then we can all talk together. Is that OK with you?" "You would trust me to pick him up alone? Without you?" "Carmine! You're his father! Of course I trust you. I would trust you with his life!" "Thank you. I have to go. Goodbye. I'll call when I get there." I had to hang up before I lost it! God, she sounded so sincere! She would trust me with his life? And I had gone to prison for almost killing a man with a baseball bat! How could she trust me? It was more than I could take and I found myself sitting on the bed, crying like a baby. But then I remembered. I had plans to make and things to do. I was going to see my son and Nancy! Chapter 9 – Nancy He called! I waited all day and began to believe he was not going to call, but he did! And he was coming to see us both! He wanted me to be free to bow out and not have to see him? What the hell was that all about? Did he think I was afraid of him? That I didn't want to be with him again? How in the world could he come to that conclusion? He shut me out, not the other way around. And I told him I wanted nothing more to do with Hugo. I told him that and made sure he got the note. The doctor told me he made sure Carmine read it and understood it. So he knows that Hugo was never part of my or Ruben's life. But he was coming! I was going to be able to see him again and talk with him. I can hope that he will allow me to apologize for my mistakes and for making him go crazy. It was my fault that he spent all those years in prison, away from his life and his work and his son. It was my fault and I had to let him know how sorry I was. I had to tell him that it was never anything he did that caused me to do something so stupid and so selfish. God, how selfish was I? Even now when I remember the way I was thinking back then, it makes me sick to my stomach. Sick and miserable. I wonder what he thinks about me now? Or, if he even does think of me. And did he think of me during all those years? Like I thought of him? How many nights did he fall asleep, his hands holding his erection, wishing it were my hand holding him? As many as I did, using my fingers to ease the pain I felt from not having his body on mine, his hardness inside me where it belonged? All those years lost, the nights we could have been together, making love like we did before it all went to hell. Before I destroyed it all with my stupidity. And what made it even worse for me was that the last man inside me, the last man to have my body wasn't even my husband! It was Hugo! The man that I let destroy my marriage and send the man I love to prison! Hugo! Even now, that thought makes me sick. Sick at heart as well as sick to my stomach. When the memory surfaces, as it does on those days when the world seems to have it in for me, I end up on the floor in the bathroom, still wet from the shower that never seems to make me feel clean. And regardless of what they say, time hasn't made it any less. It is still as vivid in my memory as the day it happened. And I hate it! I pray that I can forget it, but so far my prayers haven't been answered. Enough! It was done and it was over. Stop wishing and saying sorry over and over. It doesn't help anything! And stop waiting for fate to come along and punish you so it can then forgive you! God doesn't punish the guilty and reward the innocent! That was for stories and books. In the real world, innocents like Carmine pay the price for the guilty like me. I stayed home, free to come and go as I pleased. Carmine was locked up for trying to protect what was his. Hugo got off scott-free taking something that didn't belong to him and paying no price. Sure he got beat up, but a beating wasn't much to sacrifice for taking what wasn't his to take. And I paid no price at all, unless it was the price of losing the man I loved, but when I think of it that way, the price I paid was actually pretty stiff. Maybe there was something to that. Maybe God did punish the guilty! Now that he called, I had to tell Ruben. I had to tell him I knew his secret and that his dad wanted to see him and he was coming for five days. I wanted to tell him when he was home with me so that I could control his expectations. I didn't want him to go off half cocked and plan on a reunification of our family. Carmine said it himself. He said that wasn't going to happen. He said it so that Ruben wouldn't get his hopes up. Nothing was said about my hopes. And my hopes were my business and I would take care of myself. Ruben was my real concern just now. Tomorrow. I would tell him tomorrow after school. Tomorrow was a Thursday and that would give him three days to get ready. Three days was nothing after the seven years he had waited. Who was I kidding? Three days was a lifetime for a kid! Should I wait until almost Monday? Would Carmine call when he got in? What if Ruben answered the phone? No! I would tell him tomorrow after school and be done with it. Good! Chapter 10 - Ruben Dad hasn't called back yet. I know he will. It's only been a week since I last talked with him. I would call him but I don't know his number. He didn't give it to me when he called and the caller ID said it was 'blocked'. Whatever that means. But I know he'll call. He said he would and I believe him. I just have to be patient. That's what mom says all the time when I get antsy. Just be patient she says. It will happen when it's supposed to happen. Sure. Just wait. Time goes so slow that it's hard to wait. But I have no choice. I'll wait. Why doesn't he call? At school today it's a trip to see the water purification plant. Big deal! Like I care how they make the water good to drink. It's good to drink so who cares. Anyway, I like the bottled water and I use my allowance to buy it as often as I can. Me and Eddie buy it and carry the bottles around all day. Sometimes I just fill the empty bottle with water from the fountain but it's still better than tap water. I listen to the guide tell us all about the big tanks and the settling tanks and the algae and the chemicals and I try to remember it all since the teacher will give us a quiz on it later. Fortunately, I have one of those memories that hangs on to crap like that. So, I'm really lucky that way. Eddie doesn't remember stuff. He has a real problem with it and I have to help him all the time. But he's my friend so I do it. No big deal.