Little Things (Second Chances 1)
She reaches into the passenger seat, grabs her wallet, and takes out her driver’s license. After adjusting her loose strands of her blonde hair, she smoothes out her jeans. I watch her tidy herself up and just smile; that’s all I can do at this moment.
“Okay, I’m ready now.”
I grab hold of her hand and lead her to the large, steel gray doors. The metal chain fence spans all around the complex and barbed wire winds along the top of the fences. I see a few officers patrol the grounds with rifles locked and loaded.
We walk up to the entrance and a security officer greets us at the door.
“Are you here for visitation?”
I keep Melanie close, “Yes, sir. We are.”
The guard opens the doors and leads us inside the prison where we are immediately frisked and taken through a metal detector. I glance around to see about ten security officers on patrol inside the halls and about four guards are outside on the grounds. It looks like the inmates are locked inside at this time, but perhaps they are about to get some yard time a little later.
After we are frisked and searched for any weapons, the guards lead us down another corridor and into a large holding room. The guard guides us to the visitor check-in station and instructs us to wait in line. Melanie stays close behind me as we await our turn.
The room is filled with about twenty visitors and I’m hoping that the wait goes by pretty quickly. I don’t want to spend too much time here, especially since we have a four hour trip back home. Melanie starts to tremble against my body. I pull her in closer and rub her back.
I whisper in her ear, “Relax. I’m with you.”
She nods her head and breathes a dee
p breath in and out. A few minutes later, we approach the check-in clerk and she hands us several papers to fill out, sign, and date. Both Melanie and I complete the forms in a matter of minutes and hand them to the clerk for a stamp of approval. I tell the clerk who we are here to see and she looks at her sign-in sheets.
“It looks like inmate #4457 is currently with another visitor at the moment. You’ll have to wait until their hour is up.”
I look at Melanie and she shrugs her shoulders. I ask the clerk, “Who is the visitor?”
“I’m sorry, but we can’t release that information. Only the authorities and attorneys are privileged to the visitor log. Please sit and wait your turn. I will call you once it’s time to start the visit.”
My aggravation grows deep as I lead Melanie to a couple of empty chairs and slump into them. She sits next to me and rests her hand on my shoulder.
“Who do you think is visiting Craig right now?”
I’m clueless as ever, “Honestly, Melanie, I have no idea.”
“Duke, do you think he’s up to something?”
“For his sake, he better not be.”
Melanie stands up and heads into the ladies’ restroom to wash up. I glance at my watch and calculate we’ve been here about thirty minutes. My legs shake in anticipation and my palms begin to sweat. I look at the clerk as she’s organizing some papers and the sign-in list and I walk over and knock on her window.
The clerk slides the window open, “Yes?”
“I’m sorry, but do you know how much longer the wait will be?”
She glances down at the forms and returns my gaze, “Your visit should begin within the next ten minutes. Please be patient and go sit down.”
She immediately shuts the window and I stagger away from the desk. As I turn around to walk back to my seat, a man walking out of the visitation hall crashes into me.
He stumbles and apologizes, “Sorry, man. Didn’t see you.”
I shake it off, “No worries. No harm, no foul, right?”
He nods his head and leaves the waiting room, heading toward the exit. I glance back to our seats and notice Melanie has returned from the bathroom.
I walk over to her, “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Are we up soon?”