Chris sits up a little straighter and smiles. “See? I knew you still had a sense of humor.”
“Could you answer my question?” Mason asks.
“What question was that?” Chris returns.
“Have you conned the prosecutor into some kind of deal yet or are you waiting until after your arraignment to see if you can sweet talk the judge into throwing the case out?” Mason asks.
“I don’t seem to remember hearing that particular question,” Chris says, but finally drops the forced levity. “My lawyer’s talking to him. There’s nothing concrete yet, but my guy says the prosecutor’s starting to come around.”
“Congratulations,” Mason says. “When you get out, I want a phone call so we can set up a time for someone to pick up your things. I don’t want you at my house for a while.”
“I screwed up. I screw up a lot. I always have,” Chris says. “I’m not an idiot. I know you’re not gonna trust me for a while, and I get that you want someone else to come by for my stuff, but we’re family, bro,” Chris says, adding a tinge of frat boy to an otherwise decent appeal. “You can’t cut me out of your life forever.”
“Why do you think I’m so pissed off?” Mason asks. “When they took you away, I told myself that I could cut you out. I thought that I could finally stop caring so much about how long it’s going to be before you get your life worked out, but that theory kind of got blown all to hell.”
Chris looks to me and then back at Mason. “What does that mean?” he asks.
“That means,” Mason says, “after you’ve shown me some decent evidence that you’ve gotten past all this crap that put you in here, we can talk about being brothers again. This doesn’t change the fact that I’ve never trusted you any less in my life than I do right now looking at you in that jumpsuit. Do you know how many times I’ve imagined this conversation?”
Chris looks back to me with that same wide-eyed flash of the eyes, but if it is help that he’s seeking with that look, I’m not the one that can help him.
“They only give us a few minutes,” Chris says, his voice
“I’ll make this quick then,” Mason says. “I’ve imagined this conversation so many times I even came here knowing exactly what I wanted to say. If this had happened a year ago or ten years ago, I would have had the same thoughts going through my mind. The words have changed a little over the years, but now that we’re sitting here, none of it is anything that I want to say to you.”
“I don’t know if ya know this or not, big guy,” Chris says, “but I’ve thought about this day, too. You know me, I’ve always told myself it wasn’t going to happen to me, but here I am in a jumpsuit. Or are these overalls? I never really knew the difference.”
“Did you have a point?” Mason asks.
“I’ve imagined this going every way possible,” Chris says. “I could sit here and tell you that I’ve seen the error of my ways or whatever, but you’re never going to believe it and I’m not sure I’d still mean that if they let me out tomorrow. My point is that there’s nothing either of us can do or say that’s going to make this any worse. I guess I’d just like to know that there’s some chance that maybe down the road, we can talk about getting past it.”
“I don’t know,” Mason says. “I already told you I can’t ignore that you’re always going to matter to me. That doesn’t mean that I’m happy about it or even that I’m ever going to be happy about it. I don’t know if I’m going to want to welcome you with open arms when you get out of here or whether I’m going to want to punch you repeatedly in the face, but I do know I’m not going to respect you if you just con your way out of taking responsibility for this just like you’ve been conning your way out of responsibility your whole life. Everything else out the window, I came here today to tell you that if you really want to know how to start rebuilding trust, you can start today. Call your lawyer and tell him that whatever voodoo bullshit you’ve got him doing to get you off with a slap on the wrist, it’s over. You don’t want any special treatment. You are going to avail yourself of the criminal justice system.”
“They’re trying to railroad me, Mase,” Chris says.
“Don’t call me that,” Mason responds.
“You’re telling me to call my lawyer and just tell him to go with whatever they’re offering?” Chris asks. “They don’t make good offers to guys like me. They make examples of guys like me.”
“I know,” Mason says. “I can’t tell you what to do. All I can do is tell you what I’m going to do. The rest,” Mason concludes, “that’s your call.”
With that, Mason gets up from the fixed, metal stool and leaves the visiting area.
For a moment, I just watch, not sure whether to give him a minute or whether I should get out there and talk to him. It’s not until Chris clears his throat that it becomes clear what I have to do.
“I’ve got to go, Chris,” I tell my boyfriend’s brother. “I really hope this all works out for the best.”
“Any chance you’d happen to know that that is?” Chris asks. “I’m open to advice.”
I think for a moment, but end up just shaking my head. “I’m sorry,” I tell him. “If I were in your shoes, I’d love to say that I’d do what Mason told you to do. The reality of it, though… I guess you’re going to have to decide which is more important: an early release, or a better shot at a relationship with your brother—Chris,” I tell him, “I’ve got to go.”
“Okay,” he says. As I’m walking away, I can hear him behind me saying, “Thank you.”
I make my way out of the jail and find Mason already sitting in the passenger’s seat of the car. To be honest, I didn’t know it was unlocked.
Mason’s quiet as I get in, but that was expected. What I’m not expecting is the bluetooth notification on my dashboard telling me that my mother is calling.
“Call from May… Weese,” the automated voice announces.