The Adored (24 page)

“Tell me about your work. What do you do here? Make license plates?”

CJ laughed, loud enough that it caught the guard’s attention. CJ and the guard exchanged looks. CJ nodded.

“License plates? No, I work in the power plant. I’ve learned plumbing, steam—any type of piping you can think of I can do.”

“So when you get out, will you be a plumber?” she asked, nervously, maybe too fast, not knowing what to ask someone who’d been in prison for almost five years.

“I like the sound of that. When I get out,” CJ smiled. “Plumbing—maybe, it’s a skill. But I also have a straight A average towards my degree.”

“Your mother told me you were doing very well with studies here. What are you studying?”

“Economics. Criminal justice.”

“That’s a strange combination.”

“Doh?” he said with his arms outstretched and hands pointing back to himself. As if to say, “Me being here is the strange combination.”

He moved the spotlight to her, “So what have you been doing for the past six years? I guess it’s been that long.” And while they had been standing all this time he moved forward and hugged her again. She could feel the massive strength in her friend. He held her; it was more than a hug. Then he said to her, quietly, “Thank you so much for coming. I have missed you.”

And surprising herself, she said, “I miss you, CJ. I’m so glad I’m here.”

They separated, a bond formed, and they both sat wondering what came next. This was new for both of them. Kathy knew it was possible when she came to see CJ. She had always cared for the thoughtful boy she dated for so short a time. The memory emerged in her mind—he did not have a lot of money for movies, restaurants, or other places to go. After the prom each date had a longer time between the prior date. Their time together was always meaningful, and now Kathy figured it was just that CJ was shy, broke, and still playing sports with the boys in his free time. CJ’s heart was jumping. Something new was going on, and this would take some figuring out but for now he knew he made a big mistake by not making more of an effort with this sweet girl who was growing into a beautiful woman.

Kathy began, “Well, I got my degree at Fordham.” She was glad for the shift, for his interest, so there would be a sharing.

“In what?”

“Criminal justice.”

“No way! Why that?”

“I’m a Stamford Police officer.”

“What?”

She grinned from ear to ear.

“There is no way someone as beautiful as you is a cop.”

She blushed.

“How long?”

“How long what?”

“How long have you been a cop? I mean police officer.”

“A year and half. Four years of school.”

“Is that what you wanted to do?”

“I wanted law school. I was going to spring you.”

“What?” he laughed.

“Yeah. I was going to get my degree and get your stupid conviction tossed.”

“You’re serious?” CJ said, still questioning was she serious.

“Yes, I am,” and Kathy’s eyes became watery. CJ saw a tear run down her cheek.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, CJ. I got distracted.”

“It’s alright, go on.”

“No, I mean I’m sorry I didn’t continue on with my law degree. I got distracted.” Kathy Jackson wasn’t sure how to say what came next and just blurted it out. “I fell in love. Thought I was in love. Got married. The money and grants ran out in my senior year—barely made it out with my degree. Carried some debt out with me. The marriage was over before it got started. I needed a job. Fortunately, color and sex matter in hiring and with my criminal justice degree, Stamford Police hired me. But it was close for a while there; my world came apart.”

“I can relate to that,” CJ said smiling. They looked at each other, trying to stifle the eruption that was coming. It was no use; they burst out laughing, loudly, and for a long time. CJ looked at the guard who frowned, and CJ held up his hand. But he and Kathy just kept laughing, quietly giggling. CJ pulled his chair next to Kathy’s, put his hand on the side of her head and moved forward. They kissed. Kathy was overjoyed—she knew, she knew. CJ was the one all along. CJ felt stronger than he had ever felt. He was part of something, part of someone. For so long it was always he and his mother. But that wasn’t the same. This was him, becoming. Becoming part of something else, something mutual. What he felt, she felt. He knew it by the way Kathy’s lips welcomed his.

The guard watched the scene of the prisoner and young woman kissing. Kissing was allowed. Guards needed to pay attention to make sure objects were not passing back and forth, but new screening tools were so good the problem was almost non-existent, so a lot was tolerated. As long as it did not get too physical, guards held back.

It did not become too physical. But Kathy Jackson painted a picture in her mind of a ferocious lover coming at her. It was CJ, muscles rippling, handsome to a fault and a warm tender smile only for her. How could such a tender moment in her life play out in such a place as this. She vowed silently that when she was an old lady there would always be a special place in her heart for Auburn Prison.

CJ spoke. “You know what is amazing?”

“What?” she asked.

“The night, the night all this happened, I was going to call you.”

“Why didn’t you,” a now very curious Kathy asked.

“I had dinner early, was about to call you and my cousin Billy came by. He wanted me to go with him that night.”

“How can you remember that?” she said wondering how a detail like that would be in CJ’s mind so many years later.

“I’ve had time to reconstruct every minute of that day and the next and the next three months through the trial,” he grimaced, grabbing the edge of the table.”

“We don’t have to talk about that,” she said seeing it got to him.

“What bothers me,” he added, the grimace continuing “is that this is America. How can something like this happen?”

“I don’t know, CJ,” she said, realizing for the first time, she was talking to an innocent man who had been in prison for almost five years.

When Kathy was invited by Mrs. Strong to come along, she agreed readily at the time knowing she still had feelings for the boy who let her young heart heat up so many years before. Kathy had followed the story in the news—his arrest, his conviction, and his sentencing. She intended to visit CJ while he was still awaiting trial, but her parents forbade it. At the time she did not know whether CJ was guilty or innocent. The Stamford Advocate had the most unflattering picture she had ever seen of CJ. The reporting presented both sides, CJ’s statements about what happened, but the prosecutor’s comments, echoed by the police presented a picture of guilt. She was conflicted at the time but decided to obey her parents.

Now, all this time, and here before her, an innocent man sat. Whom she not only still cared about, but now knew she loved. And now Kathy Jackson was a police officer on the force that put him here.

She resolved there must be something she could do. On the way home with Mrs. Strong, Kathy was less talkative. After the weekend, Kathy resolved she would talk with her mentor, an older lieutenant on the police force. Louise Strong was content with the long stretches of silence; pictures of a joyful CJ filled her mind. His last words to her were, “You were always the best mother in the world, but you took it up a notch bringing Kathy. Thank you so much.” Louise smiled, closed her eyes as the car moved forward along Route 17, a sign from the Johnson administration proclaiming it “one of America’s scenic highways.” Louise Johnson found it just beautiful.

Chapter 35

“Did you ever think of me?”

It was the third time in three months Kathy Jackson had made the trip to Auburn to see CJ. The first with his mother; the next two times by herself on a different Saturday than his mother visited. Kathy did this because she felt CJ would enjoy more companionship and because she realized she loved him.

“No,” CJ answered quickly, then on reflection added, “I didn’t mean it that way. You were a luxury I could not afford in here.”

Kathy didn’t know whether to be flattered or hurt. He saw her puzzled look and continued.

“This place requires a lot of focus, a lot of discipline. You can’t be soft here; you can’t let your guard down. Five years ago being soft would have got me killed. Now, seeing you here, like this, I will take more moments of luxury. If that’s OK with you?”

“It will please me very much that you will have me in your thoughts.”

Chapter 36

It was Curtis Strong Jr.’s graduation day. Louise Strong and Kathy Jackson arrived dressed for a big event. Mr. James Ford, an educational administrator and mentor to CJ, sat with Mrs. Strong. On an otherwise perfect summer day, an ideal one for a graduation ceremony, there were others in attendance: the warden, three prison guards, four other prisoners, and their families. The ceremony took place in the prison yard at 3 p.m. There was a dais and several rows of chairs.

It was for James Ford, a retired NYPD detective and administrator of the Cornell Prison Education Program, a day of fulfillment. As a New York City police officer and detective for twenty-eight years, he had arrested and helped send more than two hundred criminals to Auburn Prison. Of the eighteen hundred prisoners there, over nine hundred were from New York City, with most serving terms for murder. Towards the end of his police career, Ford believed there had to be a better way of dealing with crime. He saw the life of a criminal as a revolving door through the justice system.

Ford heard of a program at Auburn attempting education and rehabilitation for prisoners. It was a degree program taught by faculty from Cornell and Cayuga Community College. While the program had the cache of a Cornell degree, no funds came from the State. Both schools along with Sunshine Lady Foundation head Doris Buffett, the billionaire Warren Buffett’s sister, fund the education of the prisoners.

At fifty-two, single and itching for a new challenge, Ford retired, moved to Auburn, New York, and joined the program as its director volunteering to also teach a course on writing.

This day was part of a continuing celebration of life for Ford with special emphasis on “this day.” Ford took great interest in the educational development of one particular prisoner: Curtis Strong Jr. Ford found Strong to be the model of a man, not just a prisoner. For his degree Strong matriculated a perfect 4.0 grade point average. He helped Ford research discussion topics, occasionally conducting a class as a teaching assistant might do with a professor. CJ’s other activities on “campus” included guiding other student inmates in course selection, leading study teams and coaching on creative writing.

Beyond the education, beyond the good prisoner, Ford saw a good man. When Ford and Strong talked of guilt and innocence, main themes of Ford’s writing project course, Ford found an innocent man. There had to be evidence, some trial evidence that could prove what Strong was telling him, that he merely tried to help a fellow human being and was being held in prison for his deed.

Chapter 37

The phone rang on the desk of Vito Boriello, Detective Lieutenant, and Stamford Police Homicide unit. “Boriello,” he said picking up the receiver.

“Lieutenant Vito Boriello,” the voice emphasized the Vito.

“Yes, speaking.”

“Lieutenant, my name is James Ford. I work with inmates at Auburn Correctional Facility,” Ford said, getting to the point of the call: “Our tasks deal with the education of the inmates. The Writing Project is one of those tasks, and out of this workshop, I have come across a very interesting story, one I think you’ll be interested in,” Ford concluded.

Boriello rolled his eyes upward. He had a great growth between his neck and his knees; a huge, hard gut. He rubbed it, trying to calm the ache in it. “Yes, and how may I help you?”

“I’d like to meet with you to share this story; it’s from a young inmate who comes from Stamford,” Ford said.

“To what end, Mr. Ford?” Boriello asked as he thought about how he would spend his last thirty days on duty before retirement. And, it did not include reading another, “I-didn’t-do-it letter.”

Before Ford could answer, Boriello added, “Can I ask his name?”

“Curtis Strong. Curtis Strong Jr,” Ford replied. “Lieutenant, I think we can both help each other. Being a former homicide detective myself, I can assure you, you will find this story highly interesting. In fact I guarantee it will move you…to act.”

“I hate to discourage you, Mr. Ford, but I have a case load…” Boriello was stopped in mid excuse.

“Lieutenant, I’m sure, since you’ll be retiring in a month, the case load may permit at least one discussion,” Ford said.

Boriello bristled at first, but then was intrigued how he knew his personal circumstance.

“Your place or mine?” Boriello relented, more interested in meeting someone this thorough than in his writing project.

“Thanks, Lieutenant, I’ll come there. How’s a week from today sound, say 1 p.m.?