Chapter 51
Victor
“Hey, Vic.” The security guard at Oak Knoll Juvenile Detention Facility hollers at me as I walk through the front entrance.
“Hey, Duncan. How’s the wife? Should be making you a daddy any day now, right?”
Duncan laughs a tight, anxious laugh from his post by the metal detectors, “Yep, any day now.”
I smile back at him while walking up to the glassed-in front desk, sending my driver’s license through the metal slot to the young woman with shoulder-length, black hair behind the desk. “Hey, Gretchen,” I speak a little quieter through the punched holes in the glass.
“Hey, Vic,” she smiles back at me, recording the information from my license on the visitor sheet. “You going to see the wife today?”
“Nope, not today, though I may stop by on my way out. No, I’m here to see James Kovac.”
“You’re here to see Jimmy again? What is that, the third time this month?
” Gretchen sounds a little shocked, but I know it’s more the fact that James hasn’t had many visitors the whole time he’s been in here, except for Gabbi, of course, but they don’t count that since she’s his case manager.
Everyone was kind of shocked the first time I came to see him shortly after his court date, where I witnessed my wife in all her glory.
“Yeah, he’s got a big court date coming up. I just wanted to give him some encouragement.” I explain while taking my ID back from her and heading over to Duncan at the metal detectors.
“That’s sweet.” Gretchen coos, then gets back to her work duties.
“Jimmy’s a good kid, ya know, just had a lot going against him is all,” Duncan explains to me while I empty my pockets at the metal detector.
“Yeah, I know he is. So does Gabbi. I think that’s why she’s so twisted up about his upcoming court date.” I walk through the detector and grab my effects from the other side.
“Yeah, that’s understandable. Tell the kid we’re all pulling for him.” I pat my hand on Duncan’s shoulder to thank him for his concern.
“Will do, Duncan, you tell that wife of yours I said hello and that we’ll plan for you all to come show off your new bundle when we get our house back in order.” Duncan smiles at my invitation and gives me a swift nod.
I’m not a huge fan of waiting in this room.
A cinderblock room with bars on the windows, tables and benches bolted to the ground, and the smell of incarceration permeating the air.
Typically smelling of Lysol spray and bleach, much like Army basic training.
I’ve always hated these places ever since I started visiting some of my fellow veterans who found themselves on the wrong side of the law.
Before I can get too far into my own head, I hear the metal clanking of the door and look up to see James shuffle through.
The shackles on his ankles scrape on the floor, making a haunting jingling sound.
His hands are cuffed in front of him, connected to the chain between his ankles.
The first time I saw him walk out in these, I was surprised that they were restraining him like some hardened criminal, but it turns out all the kids in here don the same custom jewelry.
James isn’t a particularly large kid; he’s probably about six feet tall, lean, but muscular, with long hair and a scraggly beard that makes him look a few years older. The kid’s 17 and has been in and out of these places since his early teens.
James sees me and smiles a genuine smile, which is pretty rare in a place like this. He was a bit standoffish on that first visit a few weeks back, but as soon as I told him I was Gabbi’s husband, he trusted me right away. Yet another thing that’s rare in these places, trust.
I stand, mirroring his smile. When James reaches the table, the guard undoes his wrist cuffs, and I reach out a fist as he comes to sit down across from me. A fist bump is about the only contact we can have in here without the guards getting all bajiggity. “Hey, J. How ya been, man?”
James shrugs his shoulders, “I’m still upright and breathing, King, you?”
James got it in his head to call me King after our first meeting. He had asked me, Hey, boss, you treat Mrs. S good? I told him, she’s my queen, and I treat her as such. He just cracked a grin and said, aight, King. That was that.
“I’m right there with you, but more like alive and grateful.” I wink at him. James rolls his eyes, fucking teenagers.
“Yeah, I’ll be fuckin’ grateful when I can get the hell up outta this cage.” He blows out a breath, running his hands through his shoulder-length brown hair.
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” James looks up at me with his hands still in his hair, elbows resting on the table. “Court is Thursday, you understand everything that’s about to go down with the plea deal? I mean, did your lawyer explain it?”
James lowers his forearms to the table. The poor kid looks exhausted. “Yeah. I mean, he explained, then Mrs. S translated, you know what I mean?”
I chuckle, “Yeah, lawyer speak is like another language.”
“Bet!” James agrees and cracks another smile.
For a kid in his position, he actually has a pretty positive vibe about him.
“So, King, what about the job part of the deal? Last week, my lawyer said he still ain’t heard nothin’ about a job and that’s part of the program, right?
So, what do I do if I got no job by Thursday? ”
At this, I smile, and his eyebrows furrow. “That’s why I’m here, bruh.” I lift my arms out to the sides, like I’m the man.
“Jesus, King, don’t ever say bruh again.” He drags his hand down his face.
I let out an audible laugh at his embarrassment.
I never had a son, but I sure could get used to this kid.
“Relaaax. I didn’t come here to embarrass you, though I’m not really sure why that matters when you’re in jail, but whatever.
” I shrug, and there go James’ eyes, rolling again. I might smack this kid.
“Come on, King, quit fuckin’ wit me…”
“What if I told you, you have a job?”
James’ jaw drops a bit, and his eyes widen. “Fuh real? You ain’t playin’?” He’s a little shocked.
I can’t watch him suffer, “For real, J. You have a job with me at Tony’s garage.” He doesn’t say anything, just stares at me. “I mean, Gabbi told me that you wanted to be a mechanic your whole life, buuut if you don’t want the job…” My voice becomes bored, and I shrug my shoulders.
“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” James shouts, his voice a little louder than he expected.
The guard across the room looks over, makes eye contact with James, and slowly shakes his head.
James brushes it off. Troublemaker. “Holy shit,” he runs both hands through his hair again.
James sits there in silence, his mood gone quiet, and he continues to stare down at the table, hands still locked in his hair.
“Hey J, you okay, bud?” I’m not really sure how to react right now. I don’t want to embarrass him, so I just let him sit there.
After a few minutes of silence, the guard barks out that we’ve got five minutes left in the visit. James seems to snap out of his trance and looks up at me, eyes wide. “Holy fuck, King. I’m gonna get out!” He whispers, almost like that fact might disappear if he says it too loudly.
Now, I understand. He thought the plea deal was going to be a wash since he couldn’t nail down a job.
Poor kid. I can’t help but smile at the look of hope on his face.
“Yeah, buddy, you are.” He gives me a toothy smile in response to my statement.
“You stay out of trouble, okay? You have a couple of days left in this place.”
“Yuh. I got you.” He stands with the smile still plastered on his face, gives me a fist bump, then turns to the guard who moves up behind him, and his bracelets are put back in place.
I start to stand and see James stop and partially turn back toward me, the guard stopping next to him. “Hey, King, can I ask a favor?”
“Anything, J.”
“Can you ask Kerri to be there on Thursday?” His smile is gone when he asks; he actually looks a little nervous.
“Kerri? As in my daughter?”
“Yeah.” He looks down, like he’s thinking. “Nothing, sus, King, I swear. I met her when I first got in here, and she started writing letters to me. Guess we kinda got to be friends.” He shrugs.
I’m a little stunned but recover quickly, “Sure, man, no problem. I’ll ask her. See you in a couple days, J.” He nods before he walks back in that…cage as he calls it. Hang in there, kid.