Still With Me

Jeremy had to think quickly. The man eyed him, waiting for a logical answer. His cellmate had just revealed a few facts that he had to address quickly. The other Jeremy had covered his bases by leaving this mastodon to watch over him. He’d planned a murder for that very day and guarded himself against the person he would become. Strategically, it was well played. But tactically weak; his cellmate wasn’t astute enough to investigate.

“Good. Good. Great. I’m glad you remember what I told you about my…issues…on my birthday. I know I can count on you. But it won’t happen this year. If I was having an attack, you’d know right away.”

The man grumbled. For now, it was enough to defuse him. Jeremy knew he should take advantage of the window of opportunity. He knew he was playing a dangerous game.

“Okay, here’s what I want to have happen. I heard that the gym would be busy for the next few days. The guards are planning to raid for a shipment of weed. That can’t happen at the same time…”

“How do you know that? You never leave the cell.”

Jeremy was moving across a minefield left by his double.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“The guards? It’s true those guys fucking love you. Okay, so what’s your plan?”

“We’re going to wait. See how things go. Figure out other options, just in case. Then we’ll make our move.”

“Okay…But you know you’re taking a risk. They’re after you. And they’re not going to wait.”

“I’ll take the risk.”

“What are your other plans?”

“I’ll tell you when I’m ready. I need to think some more.”

/>

“You’ll have your chance. I got work now. But we need to talk this through when I get back.”

Jeremy was relieved to be rid of his cellmate’s menacing presence. He would finally be alone, not having to improvise in a role that demanded his full attention. He could get back to what mattered.

When the man had left the cell, Jeremy got up, took a deep breath, and started pacing the narrow room nervously. What could he do now? How was he going to take the next step in his research?

If the trap had closed on the better parts of himself, that wasn’t something he could regret. He’d set the trap for better or worse, and he’d given Victoria and the kids some respite. Jeremy was still mulling over his thoughts when the door slid open for a tall, lanky guard. On his pale, emaciated face, the dark circles under his eyes and his black moustache looked like a death mask.

“So, Jeremy, how’s it going today?”

“It’s going.”

“Did you see Paris yesterday? Taking two goals from Marseille. On their home field too. The shame.”

Jeremy made do with a head nod that was inexpressive enough for any interpretation.

What kind of relationship did he have with this guard? Was there some way to take advantage of this kindness?

“Want me to leave Team?”

Jeremy took the magazine and gave it a furtive glance. May 8, 2018.

Six years. He’d been there six years.

Jeremy refused to get emotional. In order to think and act, he had to stay as calm as possible. He had an idea.

“Can I ask you something?” Following the guard’s lead, Jeremy spoke informally. The guard didn’t seem to notice.

“As long as it’s not for the keys.” He laughed in a way that was meant to be shared, but stopped short when he saw the serious look on Jeremy’s face.

“I’d like to see a…a rabbi…like a Jewish priest, or whatever.”