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It reminded Beck of when he’d first met him at Da
Located just south of the Canadian border, Da
Even though Da
For them, the best way to do time was to never think about the outside. If you thought about the outside, it could drive you into despair. You did your time on the inside. In the here and now. Moment to moment, according to a routine. Inside. The outside couldn’t exist in the mind of a long-term convict. And Da
For Ma
But now, in the with-him category, was a family member Beck didn’t know anything about.
“There’s only one,” said Ma
“Uh, huh,” said Beck.
Again, he waited for more information, watching Ma
In the quiet kitchen, just the two of them, Beck didn’t press. He folded his arms, sat back in the chair, and took notice of the wear and tear and isolation of Ma
Beck sniffed. Cleared his throat. Twisted around on the hard wooden chair. Then just came out with it. “Okay, Ma
Instead of answering Beck, Ma
“Little bit here and there.” Beck flexed his fingers. “I was lucky. My hands are going to hurt. Guy’s head is like concrete. His skull must be five-inches thick.”
“You gotta hit a guy like that with a bat, not your hands.”
“I’ll remember next time.”
Ma
“I got a cousin. She’s a lot younger than me. My grandparents had a lot of kids. This is on my mother’s side. Don’t know shit about my father’s side. So Olivia, that’s her name, she’s the daughter of my mother’s youngest sister. My aunt Ruth. Her name is Olivia Sanchez.”
“Okay. A cousin.”
“She’s a civilian. Good lady.” Ma
Beck nodded.
“But this Olivia, I don’t know, no matter what anybody told her, she didn’t give up the co
Ma
“Olivia, you know, in the midst of all the shit around my family, she kept herself together. Stayed in school. Got regular jobs. As soon as she was like, seventeen, eighteen, she’d come to see me. And she wrote me. The whole time I was in that last bit, she wrote me. Visited me twice a year. Christmas and my birthday. Even during those three years I was in Da
“That’s a long trip.”
“Over three hundred miles she’d come. Christmastime and my birthday.”
“From the city?”
“Yeah. I don’t even know how many hours it took. She borrowed a car or something. I don’t know. December and August.”
Ma
Beck nodded.
Ma
Beck smiled at the notion that Ma
“You must love her.”
Ma
Beck nodded, feeling Ma
“She worked in a financial place. A brokerage or something. I don’t know what she did there, you know. But with the executives. In charge of something important. Helping run things. Like that. She worked hard. Smart. Good-looking woman.”
“Okay.”
“So, some asshole up there, he likes throwing his weight around. He and Olivia, they don’t get along.”
“Who? What do you know about him?”
“I don’t know much but a name. Alan Crane. I don’t know what Wall Street fucks do. I don’t know what this guy does. But he’s high up in the company. From Olivia, I get that he was in charge of a bunch of money, and he was cutting corners or doing some risky shit.”
“And?”
“James, this isn’t a little grab-ass or something. This guy had a beef with Olivia.”
“Yeah. Okay. I understand. So what happened?”
Ma
“So this fucking coward comes in yelling shit at her, and pounds his fist down on her hand.” Ma
Beck squinted, feeling the waves of anger coming off Ma
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“He breaks her fingers?”
“Yeah. And threatens her, tells her she’s fired.”
“Threatens her how?”
“She won’t say exactly.”
“Where’d this happen?”
“In her office. Late. She works late. Around seven.”
“And what’s she do, this guy breaks her hand?”
“She gets the fuck out. Goes to a hospital. Calls the cops while she’s sitting in the emergency room. Of course, by the time she gets her fingers fixed, they still don’t show, so the next day she goes to the precinct near where she works. Files a complaint. Big fucking deal. Then, she goes to … what do you call it, the perso
“Human Resources.”
“Yeah. Tells those fucks what happened. Tells her boss what happened.”
Beck saw it now. He started filling in the rest so Ma
“Okay, let me guess. The guy denies he did anything. Says she’s crazy. Says she’s lying. Out to get him. Says he has no idea how she broke her fingers. Cops say they have no evidence. He says, she says. No witnesses. She left the premises where it happened, blah, blah, blah.”
“Pretty much. But worse.”
“How?”
“The guy says she’s … what do you call it? Slandered him? Defamed him? He sues her for a bunch of shit. Everybody at the company goes on his side. They fire her. Now she’s got no job. No health insurance. No references. And she can’t get a new job. She’s got nothing but her two broken fingers and a little bit of savings that ain’t going to last long.”