Chapter Text
Chapter 35
After Justin left for court, Brian didn’t leave his cell for the rest of the day.
Emmy, Michelle, and Ben stopped by to walk with him to lunch, but Brian begged off, telling them that he had some reading to catch up on. So they went down without him.
Brian rested on the bottom bunk, slowly turning the pages of his ‘New Yorker’ magazine. He read the words, but nothing registered. They were only words, after all, empty of a human voice, ultimately meaningless.
Afternoon headcount came at 4:00 and the men returned to their cells. Wesley kept peering out through the bars, waiting for Justin to come back from court. Justin had promised to tell Wes what the courtroom was like and what the judge had said and whether Justin had been afraid when he walked into the room.
Going to court terrified Wesley almost more than being in prison, but like a child who loves being frightened, Wesley was also fascinated by anything having to do with the legal process. He enjoyed hearing the stories of other inmates’ trials, court dates, and confrontations with the judges. Wesley was certain that Justin would be brave in front of the judge and the lawyers. Justin was always brave when it counted the most.
But Justin didn’t come back for headcount and Wesley began to worry.
“They’re probably holding him until tomorrow,” Al told his punk. “If the hearing ran late, then they’ll keep him in the lock-up there and bring him back to Stanton in the morning.”
Then, just before the doors were racked to let the men go to the Chow Hall for dinner, two C.O.’s walked down the tier and unlocked the door to E-320.
“Kinney!” The first officer called. “Step out!”
Brian was ready. He set down his magazine and stood up. He walked to the door slowly.
“Kinney, your cellmate, Taylor, is....”
But Brian stopped the C.O. “I know. I have his gear all packed. I’ve already separated his personal clothing from his government issue and put his things into his duffle bag.” Brian indicated the bulging bag on the floor of the cell. Then he pointed to a pile of precisely folded workpants, shirts, and underwear laid to one side. “I put his art supplies and his school books in this box.” Brian pushed a large cardboard container forward. “You can check them, but it’s all there.” He paused. “Everything that belongs to Justin.”
Brian had also taken Justin’s drawings down from the walls of the cell and placed them carefully in the box with his sketchpads. The only picture that remained was a drawing in pastels of a golden horse running in a green valley. That one was still taped to the wall next to the bottom bunk.
“I think this is everything,” Brian repeated, very softly.
The two C.O.’s exchanged glances. “How did you know that the kid wouldn’t be coming back to the Quad, Kinney? What are you, psychic or something? Hell! The warden didn’t even expect that!”
“I knew,” Brian replied steadily. “I’ve been working to that end almost from the day Justin walked in here. He had to get out. It was the right thing. The only thing.”
“The fucking judge vacated the kid’s conviction!” marveled the first C.O. “Can you beat that?”
“That’s called Justice,” Brian said simply. “No one deserves it more than he does. No one.”
The Brian turned and walked back to the bunks. He laid down on the bottom one, switching off his little reading lamp.
The C.O.’s picked up the heavy duffle bag and the cardboard box containing the possessions of Justin Taylor and carried them out of the cell.
“Aren’t you going down to chow, Kinney?” asked the second C.O.
“No,” said Brian. “I’m not hungry. There’s no need for me to go down there.”
The C.O. shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said.
He closed and locked the door to E-320, leaving Inmate Number 1969-21455 alone in the dark.
*FIN*
