Rules of the Game

by Bruce Fitzpatrick

  She pulled him close, hugged him. “Shhh... Don’t say it; don’t say anything. Right now all I want is this moment.”

  “Yeah, but...your injuries.”

  Indeed, her injuries. She’d gone through physical therapy to function normally again. That had been the easy part; the psychological aspect, however, would been quite a different matter. She’d go through psychotherapy to work through the emotional part, and the healing process would be lengthy. They had discussed it at length during recent visitations, him on the verge of tears, her actually experiencing them. With the disappearance of Billings and Atkins, he suspected that justice had been served, and he was grateful not to have played a role in whatever had happened to them. Their treachery had been their undoing. That he still loved Jennifer and wanted to start a new life with her would play a large role in building the foundation upon which their long journey back would be built. He’d mentioned that their wedding vows had included ‘for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, till death do us part.’ He felt it would take a lifetime of healing to make up for all she’d been through because of him.

  After a momentary silence, she said, “I know who did it. We’ll talk about pressing charges later.”

  “We won’t have to,” he said, calmly.

  “What do you mean, ‘won’t have to’? Do you know what he did to me?” Her anger had come roaring to the surface.

  He looked her in the eye. “He won’t be around any more.”

  With this her anger turned to fear. “Adrian, you didn’t...”

  “No. But I’m not the only enemy he had, and some of them were very dangerous people. People in those circles have their own ways of doing things.” He paused, not wanting to elaborate. He hugged her again, and led her down the steps. “You’re right, we should be enjoying the moment.”

  She looked at him with concern. "It's going to be difficult starting over. What will you do?"

  "Maybe I'll write a book about it. Maybe I'll even put you in it. How would you like that?"

  "I'm serious, Adrian. What’ll you do?"

  “I'll make sure I don't come back here. I don’t want to be one of those guys who does a life sentence on the installment plan. Once was enough."

  “That better be a lifetime commitment."

  He looked at her and winked. "That's not the only lifetime commitment I have in mind. Let's go, it's been a long time since we've been home."

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  As Adrian pulled into the driveway, he looked at Paula's modern, split-level home he felt like he was seeing it for the first time. The trip from the airport was like seeing a lot of things for the first time. Men and women dressed in varying styles of clothing, the shops, Dunkin Donuts and Starbucks, highways, bridges, traffic, driving seventy miles an hour in an automobile, seeing wooded areas, and the absence of walls, gun towers, desperadoes, hard looks, hard knocks, chaos, elevated, rage-driven crowd noise - all this seemed radically different.

  As he went to open Jennifer's door, he took a minute to listen to the quiet in the neighborhood, to the birds, and to feel the calm. A soft breeze wafted through the trees; dew and sunlight sparkled on the foliage, the sound of a sprinkler spraying the lush green lawn. All new. He felt like he had come to an exotic desert island after two years in a congested city filled with traffic, sirens, screaming, violence and bad air. The tranquility of civilization in a world far removed felt good.

  But the calm and tranquility didn't last long. As he was assisting Jennifer out of the car, the front door to Paula's house burst open and Andy came out to greet them.

  "Dad, you're home! Now we can do things! You can come to my birthday parties, and we can go fishing, we can to the beach an'...an'...everything!"

  He came tearing down the walk, and what should have been utter joy at first glance, turned into one of the most startling wake-up calls Adrian had ever received. Now almost seven, Andy’s chest was where his face had been back when Adrian had been sent away. He had grown nearly a foot during Adrian’s time away. How many people measure time in that manner? How could he ever make up for it?

  Andy literally flew into Adrian's arms. Adrian scooped him up, held him high overhead, them pulled him close, savoring his loving arms wrapped tightly around his neck. When he disengaged, Andy leaned over to Jennifer and put his arms around her, kissed her and held her tightly.

  "And I love you, too, mom. I wanted you to come back and get me. I've really missed you." He became serious as something occurred to him. Looking up and down the length of Jennifer's body as though assessing it, he frowned.

  "Do you still have pains from the car crash?" She had told him she couldn't come back because she'd been in an accident, and would be laid up for a while. It was the best excuse she could think of, and would explain her prolonged absence.

  "I'm getting better, Andy." she said, smiling and leaning over to kiss him again.

  "Good enough so you, me, and dad can go do some things?"

  "Good enough so that she could bring me home to you!" Adrian said, hoisting him overhead again. He wanted to de-emphasize her 'accident' and put it behind them. If this were to be their new life, the old one would have to fade. Learn the lessons, but don't live in the memories. That was Nazareth's parting comment before they had hugged in the cell. Adrian had found it hard to hold back the tears. He wished he could have brought that old man home with him. For all the ways Nazareth had helped him in prison, he might have been able to show him how to get along on the outside after so many years of being locked away. Learn the lessons, but don't live in the memories...

  Jennifer's sister, Paula, came out to greet them. "Welcome home, stranger," she said, giving him a hug. "How does it feel?"

  Adrian inhaled deeply through his nose. "The air smells fresher," he said. It also felt good to not be condemned by someone he admired. "And a lot more relaxed," he added.

  She looked at Andy. "A certain someone has been impossible for the past three days. All bets were off once he knew you were both coming home..."

  ""Thanks for helping out," Jennifer said, kissing her sister on the cheek. “We couldn’t have managed without you."

  "It was a pleasure, he's such a joy. Are you coming in?"

  "I promised Mister Home Boy that I'd give him his first home cooked meal," answered Jennifer. "So that's were we're going."

  "Figured I better cash in while I'm still on good behavior," Adrian said, putting Andy down. "Thanks again for looking after the big guy for us."

  "Just think," Paula said. "Now that you're back you'll be able to look after him yourself."

  Adrian winked. "Been looking forward to that for a long, long time."

  ********

  When Jennifer swung the door open Adrian stepped into the apartment, then abruptly stopped as though suspended in time. He felt unprepared, as if he had just walked into a situation he had never experienced before. After sharing his 'home' with sixteen hundred 'roommates' in an almost constantly loud, chaotic environment, he now struggled with the absurdity of having his own place in which to live with safe people.

  Jennifer approached him, puzzled. "Don't you like it?"

  The question jarred him back to reality. "Sure...sure, I like it. I love it." He sounded distant to her.

  Andy looked up at him. "Is everything okay, Dad?"

  "I'm doing fine, Andy." He put his hand on Andy's head and tousled his hair to reassure him.

  “Then how come you’re standing like that?"

  "I'm trying to imagine what it's going to be like to have my own place again, living with you and mama. The school I was in had lots of yelling and screaming and slamming doors. Here, it's quiet and peaceful. It's different, and it's going to take some getting used to. I’ve been gone for a long time. But with you and your mom here to help me, I'll do just fine."

  He continued on into the modestly furnished but comfortable apartment, trying to get used to furniture that wasn't Government Issue. It was in Technicolor, not cold, drab,
steel gray. There was a wide screen television at the far end of the room. He walked over and turned it on. When it came to life he stared at it mindlessly. Ignoring the picture, he focused on actually being able to hear it. He didn't have to strain through a cacophony of distractions like those in the prison day room. It felt like flat screen hi-def television to finger painting on walls.

  After lingering a moment he turned it off, then walked out to the kitchen. He was struck by the prospect of being able to eat in silence and solitude. And safety. He'd be able to eat with his family in a relaxed environment without having his back exposed to an aisle.

  Next was the bathroom. As he looked at the single shower stall, he couldn't help but flash back to the incident where he had almost killed Bent in a maniacal rage. How far removed he felt from the place where things like that happened. A great many things wouldn't be threatening as they had been back there...

  Jennifer was at his arm again. "You're a million miles away, baby. What is it?"

  "I don't know. All this is going to take getting used to, and I can’t expect you to understand that. I keep having to fight off the feeling that someone's going to walk in here any minute and try to take it all away from me."

  "The only one who can do that is you."

  He looked at her, then at Andy, and put his arms around them. He drew them close, and shuddered.

  "Kick me if I ever begin to forget that."

  That night, he awoke with a start, feeling clammy. Beads of sweat coursed down his chest, causing his T-shirt to cling to him uncomfortably. The darkness and disorientation made him feel like he was trapped with an unseen enemy. The graceful, elegant form beside him didn't fit the world to which he’d become conditioned.

  He sat up and pulled the covers back, exposing Jennifer's naked back. Her long silken hair was tossed to one side, and the delicate features of her face were embossed with a slight smile and a special beauty in the glow of the moonlight. He looked down at her.

  She stirred, then rolled over and looked up at him through eyes heavy with sleep. "What's the matter?"

  "The same thing that's been wrong since I got out. My body's here, but my mind's still back there. It must have got to me more than I thought."

  She rose up on one elbow, wrapped an arm around his waist, and drew him near to her.

  "Give yourself time. You can't expect to put it behind you in just a week."

  "I'm always adjusting. I got used to doing business with a bunch of crazies out in the street. Then I had to get used to living with a bunch of crazies behind the walls. And now I have to adjust to life in the real world again with you and Andy, and no crazies. I feel like a chameleon."

  She sat up and cradled his head in her arms.

  "I wish I knew what to say, but I've never been through something like that."

  "Neither had I," he said solemnly. "And it doesn't come with a handbook."

  She pulled him down to her, and held him close. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow's another day."

  ********

  He had no idea why he was doing it; curiosity, perhaps. Or maybe because that era in his life had been cut short, and his mind was naturally reverting back to where he'd left off. As he made his way up the walk, Adrian glanced at the van parked in the driveway. It was a van he was intimately familiar with, from its hidden magnetic box with the ignition key inside to its secret compartments built into the floorboards for large quantities of marijuana and cocaine. It felt like a million years since he’d seen that van and driven it to a rundown furniture warehouse in North Lawrence.

  He climbed the steps and knocked at the door. A moment later a voice came from behind it. "Who is it?"

  "An old business acquaintance stopping by to say hello," he answered.

  A moment later the door swung open, and a short, swarthy man with a thick crop of coarse black hair stood framed in the doorway. He was holding a half-eaten chicken leg in one hand, and appeared to have smeared the rest of it across the lower half of his face.

  "What's goin' on, Adrian?" he asked gruffly. "Just get out?"

  "Yeah. Thought I'd say hi, and see how you're doing."

  "I'm doing okay," the man answered in a measured tone. "How 'bout you?"

  "I'm still trying to get used to being out, but I’m okay."

  "How long were you away?" asked the man. "A couple years, maybe?"

  "Yeah, little more than that," Adrian answered, aware that he had yet to be invited inside.

  "You got parole?"

  "Yeah, I got parole."

  "How much?"

  "Two-and-a-half years."

  "Two-and-a-half years, huh? Well, I'll tell ya what. Come back in two-and-a-half years after you get off parole. We'll talk then. I already got too many convicts running around this place. See ya."

  And he slammed the door in Adrian's face, giving him all the closure he’d ever need.

  *********

  He’d just completed his second week at work and was beginning to settle in to yet another new routine. Maybe this one would be permanent. Adrian walked into the kitchen, took an envelope out of his jacket pocket, and tossed it on the table.

  "Anybody home?" he yelled, wiping the sweat from his forehead. A moment later Andy came out from his bedroom.

  “Dad, look what I did today.” He handed Adrian a drawing of a sports car for him to admire. Adrian looked at it, and was stunned. Though it had been hand drawn, it almost looked as if it could have been computer generated. It was beautiful.

  “Wow that looks great, I’m impressed! Maybe we'll get one just like it some day.”

  “How about another BMW? Or a Porsche?”

  “On what I make? I don’t know, we might have to wait.” The car he had now was a far cry from the 7-Series BMW he’d been driving before he got sent away. He quickly had to remind himself that his self-esteem shouldn’t be connected to his car, his zip code, his job, or his bank account.

  “I miss it, Dad.”

  “You know what?” Adrian asked. “I'd rather have you than a BMW and a Porsche.”

  “So would I," came Jennifer's voice from the bathroom.

  A moment later she entered the kitchen, wearing a terry cloth robe with a towel wrapped around her head. She went to him, wrapped her arms around him, and gave him a long kiss while pressing herself close to him. The smell of her bath oil and the moist feel of her skin were just the welcoming committee he needed. She had a way of making life enjoyable.

  "You make me want to commit sin," he whispered, pulling her close.

  “Later,” she whispered, nibbling at her ear.

  She disengaged, kissed him on the forehead, then took a handkerchief from the pocket of her robe and began dabbing at her forehead with it.

  "How did your day go?" she asked him.

  "Okay, I guess. I get frustrated thinking that I might spend the rest of life doing the nine-to-five thing."

  "You had to take what you could get. People weren't exactly beating a path to your door to hire you. At least it won't get you sent back to—“ she looked at Andy, “school."

  "Yeah, I know. One thing's for sure, I didn't take this job for the money. Look at that, my first paycheck, all four hundred forty-three take home dollars of it. If only one of us was working, we’d be lucky to make rent."

  He decided to change the subject. "What's for supper?"

  "What would you like?"

  "You ... by candlelight."

  "I told you, later," she said, mischievously. "Right now I'm talking about food."

  "You’re food.” He smiled at her consternation. “Okay, surprise me."

  Just then the phone rang. Adrian picked it up. "Hello."

  "Hey, pal. Guess who?"

  "Angie, is that you?" Adrian asked, mildly shocked.

  "Yeah, it's me. How ya doin'?"

  "I'm okay. How'd you know where to find me?"

  "Hey, you know the way it is. Things happen, word travels, and before you know it, you get a call from a guy like me."

>   "Yeah, right.” The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Only Carmine Ruffino could have told him. “So what's up?"

  "I was in the area, thought I'd give you a call, maybe stop by and play some backgammon. Whadda ya say?"

  He’d been caught completely off guard. Yet, there was something appealing about seeing his old friend again.

  "Yeah, sure."

  He hung up, and then turned to Jennifer, who was giving him a curious look.

  "Tell me that’s not the Angelo I'm thinking of." Her voice sounded tense, apprehensive.

  Adrian’s tone was solemn. "Yeah, he’s on his way over."

  She shook her head, said nothing, and walked from the room with Andy in tow. A thirty-second phone call from a man he hadn't seen in over two years had just put their evening - and maybe their future - on hold.

  *********

  Fifteen minutes later, Adrian opened the door before Angelo could knock a second time. He still looked pretty much the way Adrian had remembered him -- short, compact, and not to be taken lightly. Perhaps that’s what was easiest part to remember; the ‘not to be taken lightly’ part.

  "Hey, it's good to see ya," he said, dropping his attaché case on the table and giving Adrian a hug. "Ya son of a bitch, you look great." Then, gripping Adrian by the shoulders, he added, "Life in the joint must have agreed with ya. Ya feel hard as a rock."

  Adrian shrugged and smiled. "You know what they say, prisons are half penitentiary, half health farm. Next time I want to get healthy, I think I'll join the Y."

  "So how does it feel, bein' out?" Angelo asked.

  "Still getting used to it. It feels like I have a foot in both worlds. I have to keep reminding myself that the shit you do in there to survive doesn't cut it out here. If someone gives you a bad time you can't crack his head, shank him or threaten him. The things that work in there’ll get you sent back if you try them out here. I feel like I have a neon billboard hanging over my head that says CONVICT on it."