I am without words, without emotions, without motion. My head is swimming and I feel stuck in the spot where I am standing. The idea of them having to walk away and leave me here is indescribable. Even as I write this to you now, I still don’t know where my head was or could have been. The ghetto “whatever”, asks to see my arm, so see can scan my band. This brings me back to reality. I go back to Group, where everyone is looking to me to tell them what just happened and who were those two people. I look at them like “hell nah, none of your business, turn around” As the Group continues on, tears start to flow down my face. I am not crying out loud, just fallen tears. Like I said before, you are not to comfort or even give a tissue to anyone. As this other young girl who just got in here this morning, is speaking, Lieutenant gets out of his seat, goes to the bathroom area and he gets some tissue. When he comes back he is on his knees in front of me, wiping my tears. Deborah is telling him that he needs to sit back down and listen to this other girl talk. Lieutenant acts as if we are the only two in the room. He continues to wipe my face and I let him. I feel bad that I am in this condition in front of all of these people. However, Lieutenant makes me feel like I had one more person left in here with me.
Lieutenant says, “you are too pretty to cry. I know that’s your family. You will get there soon. All of this will be over soon” I needed those words like you don’t know. Instead of Deborah getting on him again, she allows him to comfort me. She looks as if she feels bad for me too. I am shocked that Lieutenant is speaking English. Everyone else in the Group has either nodded off or trying to see what Lieutenant is up to. I tell him that I am ok and he goes back to his chair. Deborah announces that this Group was over and we will take a 20 minute break before we start the next Group. I get up to get some water (and that’s the other thing, in the “Doom Room”, you can only have 4 ounces of water or juice at a time. They believe that you can drown yourself with more than 4 ounces of water. In addition, you have to go to the nurses station to request it, really???) As I am walking away, Deborah calls my name to speak with me. Deborah says, “What the hell happened? What got you in here?” You can buy me for a dollar at this point.
Nicole and I are in the elevator and it is deathly quiet. The officer is escorting us back to the main lobby. We are in the lobby and we still don’t say anything to each other. I have no idea as to what she is thinking. I don’t know if she is upset with me because of the situation, sad about the situation, or enraged at what she just saw. I am thinking that she must be all three since she hasn’t said a word. I ask her where did she park and I walk her to her car. She gets in and says, “Where are we going to eat?” I am really not in the mood nor do I have an appetite to eat. I almost feel guilty that we can go out to eat and Cint can’t. Nicole snaps me out of my thoughts and asks again, “where are we going to eat?” You like Cuban food?
I tell Chico that I will follow him. We end up at La Terecita. He opens the door for me and we sit at the counter. Still silent I break in. “Ok, I know that was rough what we just walked away from, I can only imagine how you are feeling. I am so mad, that I want to punch this waitress in the face for not bringing me that hot buttered Cuban bread over there. A bitch is hungry” I keep going through my theatrics and the truth of the matter is that I don’t know how we are going to pull this off. When the orderly told us that we were going to need a lawyer to get her out of there, I started to realize the severity of this Baker Act thing. I look at Chic, “Non of this is your fault. You are doing all of the right things. To your earlier point, we just have to come up with a plan to get her out. She will be fine. Cint has been through a lot in her life and has always come back strong. This is just another notch under her belt.” The waitress brings the food to us. As much as I love Cint, I love these damn black beans and rice. I hope Chico is not as hungry, because I am going to eat his shit too.
“Snack Time!” Same damn graham crackers and fake cranberry juice. John is back at his normal spot reading his newspaper. I take my seat next to him. Without taking his eyes off of the newspaper, he asks if that was my family that came to visit. I tell him that it was my husband and sister. He nods. He tells me that if that was my team, then I just might make it out of here. I know that he is just trying to give me a glimmer of hope. I am still in a slump and trying to play it off. He looks at me and tells me that it is alright to cry, just don’t cry too much. Crying too much is “depression” in the “Doom Room”, so be discrete so that you don’t get time added to your stay. I feel beaten and worn out. I ask him, “How do you stay so calm and cool? If that is the case, why are you still here?” He responds, “keeping calm and cool was never my problem”
I hold my arm up before “ghetto” gets here so that she can scan my band again. She tells me that my husband is cute. I tell her thank you. She goes on to say that me and my sister don’t look nothing alike and whether or not I think that’s his baby she carrying. I roll my eyes at her and let her think what the hell she wants. Lord, if you get me out of here…..
Nicole is stuffing her face like never before. She has ordered two servings of black beans. I will hate to be her later on tonight. We are still talking about what our next steps are to help Cint. We have another hour or so, before the next visitation. I tell Nicole that I have found a few lawyers that are in the area and I need to meet with them STAT. Nicole burps, “I feel so much better. Now what were you saying?” Just then my phone rings and it’s Jacinta’s father….. Damn!