Mary Catherine asked, “Who was telling you about the house?”
“An old NYPD buddy who works in a town not far from Bangor.” I thought about it for a moment and added, “I guess every town in Maine is not too far from Bangor.”
Mary Catherine said, “Do you think Seamus is able to travel?”
From the couch in the living room, Seamus called out, “I can travel anywhere you can travel.”
I smiled and said, “At least we know his hearing is still in pretty good shape.”
Seamus’s shout from the couch attracted some of the kids the way a dead fish in the water attracts sharks. They circled us, and Eddie said, “Are we going somewhere?”
I smiled and patted my teenage mathlete on the head. He was a constant stream of motion and didn’t even stop when he asked this question. He just motored on into the living room to keep his great-grandfather company.
Chrissy shouted, “Can we go to Disney?”
Fiona said, “Yellowstone.” And was immediately seconded by her twin, Bridget.
I listened to the input. Even my quiet one, Jane, suggested Philadelphia for all its historical sites. Of course Ricky suggested New Orleans because his newest interest in cooking was Cajun food. It was also the home of his hero, Emeril Lagasse.
Mary Catherine gave me a quick sly smile and shouted, “Let’s go to Maine.” Then she jumped up and down, and her excitement was contagious. Soon she’d convinced the younger kids that Maine would give them the greatest adventure ever. They even chanted, “Maine, Maine.”
The Bennett family was going on a vacation.
Chapter 35
It wasn’t what you’d call directly on the way to Maine, but we all agreed we wanted to visit Brian now that he?
?d been assigned his permanent home at a prison.
I had kept visiting Brian at Rikers right up until he was transferred to the Gowanda Correctional Facility, in the extreme western part of New York State, around thirty miles south of Buffalo. As far as prisons go, it was about the best I could hope for. The state had a youthful-offender program, and Brian was able to call home a couple of times a week.
As we pulled down the long entrance road, the sight of the thick chain-link fence topped by spools and spools of razor wire was jarring to the senses.
Chrissy said, “Why is all that funny-looking wire on top of the fence?”
Before I could answer, Jane said, “They don’t want birds sitting on the fence and pooping everywhere.”
I looked up in the mirror to catch Jane’s attention and gave her a smile and a wink.
Ricky said, “I wonder how they feed everyone.”
From the front seat, which I had rigged especially for him, Seamus said, “Poorly. The people who cook here have nothing close to the commitment you bring to the kitchen, Ricky.”
That made the young man smile.
As everyone filed out of the van, Shawna said, “Look.” She pointed at a single window on the first floor of the administration building.
A lone figure stared out through the metal bars.
Shawna said, “It’s Brian.”
Everyone turned quickly, and before I could ask how she knew it was her brother, the figure in the window waved.
We had to visit in shifts of three. I had already called the prison and asked about the policy. They worked with me and asked us to come on a day that was not a scheduled visiting day. That’s how Brian knew we were coming and was able to wait for us at the administration building.
The final group to visit was just Mary Catherine, Seamus, and me, although I had actually sat in on all the visits. The corrections officers seemed impressed that we had such a large family and that all the kids were committed to seeing their brother. We were the only visitors that day.
It was a standard visiting room at a large, medium-security correctional facility. There were three separate visiting stations, and we were kept apart by a counter built on top of a low wall, as well as a glass partition. A corrections officer stood directly behind the inmates’ area. The partitions on each side made it feel like a booth.