A CONSCIENCE'S BEST FRIEND

     The kids wanted a puppy.  It was by no means an unreasonable request there were just too many milligrams of chaos swirling inside my head back then for another responsibility.
     Fast forward to when I was in prison and my mind had been emancipated of responsibility only to have the chaos replaced with anxiety.  I went from total, to less than zero control in the time it took to execute a search warrant.  Being unable to protect or provide for my children was killing me.  Suffocated by guilt I thought the worst was over until I learned the little girl I left behind was now fixed on precision self-mutilation.

     "Hi Daddy, how are you?"  " Good sweet -  heart.  What are you up to?" Just getting something to eat with my friends."

     In the background I could hear muffled  conversations; my grip tightened at the depth of the voices.  "Who are you with?" "Just friends - Oh... wait... Daddy, Matt says hi."  "... Great, (who the fuck is "Matt?) that's great honey say hello and tell everyone I'll be home very soon, ok?"  "Ok,  I will but when are you coming home I miss you."  Miss you too... soon,  I can't say exactly but soon, ."  "Well Daddy when you get home I want to get a tongue ring - I'm obsessed."  Swallowing hard, "... Alright,  just promise you won't drive Auntie crazy and don't tell her I said I'd take you to get one."  "I promise... And Daddy, I think I want a star tattoo... behind my ear...."

     In the background came louder conversation and deeper laughter.  With the phone pressed tight I clenched my teeth and heard a splintering right before the annoying electronic recording chimed in: "This call is from a federal prison."

     Looking down I was relieved to find the receiver in tact, the cracking must have been my jaw.  Destruction of government property is a 300 series shot in the Feds, something I couldn't afford after coming this far. 

     If I was lucky I'd be going home in October.  I had good reason for not divulging this to Kyera.  It took me two years to get to Lewisburg Camp and now into the Residential Drug Addiction Program, the only federal program allowing time to be earned off a sentence.  The Feds controlled RDAP participants about as well as BP contains oil.  The few who did snagged were sanctioned for untucked shirts and hats on in the building.  Serious violations got you set back or thrown out altogether.  I know a guy from my class who's still there for tomatoes. 

     At this point words meant nothing.  To break mine to Kyera would be the equivalent of shooting my integrity in the head.   My arrest unraveled enough broken promises.  It wasn't so much of a shock to me,  but my my poor sister.   As the two by two formation of  armed tactical team members shuffled across linoleum and ascended the stairs to get me she stood reading a copy the warrant in pure disbelief; screaming: "Growth hormone?  Are you people crazy, your arresting my brother for human growth hormone!"

     And while they led me out the front door into the morning's bright sun, double cuffed from behind in my shorts, her words of unwavering support shrilled for neighbors and horrified elementary children alike: "Why don't you go and arrest some pedophiles?  And leave my brother, who's never hurt anyone his entire life, alone!"

     Unfortunately the cops didn't agree and took me to Wakefield P.D. where I realized that because of the long weekend leading into Saint Patricks day I would spend no fewer than ninety-six hours in a tiny cell.  And on the other side of that rainbow lay not a pot of gold but a bunch of slimy, lime - green public defenders and court personal who posing as leprechauns started drinking at 8:00 A.M. 

      At the P.D. I'd waived my initial phone call due to an uncustomary loss of words, and began settling into my new life of unknown duration.  Then on the second day signs of life came from the outside world; food, books, magazines and letters.  Sitting on my cement bunk flipping through the pile I came upon one I thought I might be able to handle.  Ripping into the envelope it read:

"Daddy,

I thought the worst day of my life was the day you took me to the lake and told me Mommy died.  But today I came home from school and Auntie was rushing around fixing my room and she told me what happened.  She said she didn't know when you'd be home.  I don't understand.  After Mommy you promised you would never leave.  Now I don't know what to do.  Will you be home for my sweet sixteen?  What about prom and my graduation?  Will you even be home someday when I get married?  And what about Anthony?  I can't stop crying, he needs you so much.  I was wrong Daddy, today is the worst day of my life."

     Until that moment I had never conceived of a suffering deeper than loosing Michelle.  But personal failure eclipsed tragedy.  In all the world Kyera's disappointment in me could only be surpassed by mine in myself.  My emptiness had no bottom.

     Calling to the guard I asked for the phone.  Dialing Tricia:  "Hello."  "Trish, its Jimmy.  Can you do me a favor - can you go to the pet store..."