by CC Michele

Created on: June 06, 2009

emOpheliaa and the antiHero

Chapter 5- Dream Date

The female guard barely looked up from her magazine as I approached, seemingly oblivious to her surroundings. Such institutional indifference as she carefully recorded my information, explained the necessary waiver form, and guided me through the metal detector. And the other visitors in front of me seemed unaffected as well, like it was nothing out of the ordinary to be searched for weapons and forced to acknowledge your own vulnerability in the event of a riot. Maybe they were unmoved, but I wasn't.

After we walked through the main door, a gate closed and locked behind us, signaling a buzzer that unlocked the gate in front of us. For that brief moment in the space between freedom and restraint, strangers breathing down my neck, I had the feeling that I was giving myself over to the situation, that I was completely without control. It was enough to make me dizzy, to make the lights of life dim for the briefest of seconds. In that moment, I got my only true taste of Jerry's life since that fateful day. Then after a sharp metallic click, I walked into the most unlikely form of heaven.
My eyes quickly scanned the room, struggling to make sense of such unfamiliar territory. This was no television cop show visiting room; it was practically a cafeteria. Circular tables, vending machines there was even a children's play area in the far corner. As if the sadness of that wasn't enough, on the far wall was a backdrop for portrait shots; trees and flowers for daddies to stand in front of as their forced smiles worked in collusion with bad photographers to convince their little darlings that they were on camping trips instead of in prison.

I sat at a table, unconsciously holding my breath, as I stared at the prisoners' door. The wait was agonizing, worse for the time it allowed me to envision every possible bad scenario I could. Finally, the door jarred open and for a moment, time stopped. Jerry's eyes locked onto mine and prison walls faded with years past. Suddenly, we were all that mattered, or that even existed. Suddenly, finally, life was worth living and everything was perfect.

I couldn't tell you what we talked about. I probably rambled on about school, and the drive up there to see him, and other useless nonsense. Besides asking me questions, Jerry stayed pretty quiet. I didn't realize it then, but his initial silence was the beginning of a long tradition of shielding me from what

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