Still captured

This crab was held captive between these rock walls by the waning tide on a New Jersey beach.

Impatient as he appeared, he had only to wait a little more than 12 hours for the incoming tide for his release.

Corey's tide won't come in for another week.

I'm hoping that this time in Orange County Central Men's Jail will instill in him an aversion to the place. And not just in Orange County.

He's been able to call collect every day, except yesterday, when some folks "acted up." I can't help but wonder what constitutes "acting up" when you're in jail. And I expect my phone bill will be accompanied by a security guard next month. I KNOW it's going to be impressive. At one point, my phone company refused to accept collect calls from OCJ any more. I prepaid to receive C's calls, and my credit card was compromised, and the $50 I'd prepayed went by in a day (maybe 20 minutes of talk).

He now calls my fax number collect. Maybe I'll get two security guards with the bill.

I don't think I've spoken to C every day since he was 14 and I lived with his dad. I like that part of his incarceration. But, I'm ready for him to be free of jail. And he seems resolved to never land there again.

Bring on the high tide.

Not what he expected

Illustration by Barron Storey

C expected to go to court yesterday and then be released.

Except that isn't what happened.

He found out that he was sentenced to 30 days for his outstanding warrants and would serve 20. He'll be released July 4.

(a moment to think about that)

I haven't actually talked to him as I was in NYC all day with friends, viewing the Barron Storey exhibit at the Society of Illustrators, lunching, and walking through Central Park.

How I hate this

Tonight he sits in a large room surrounded by folks I'd rather he not be with — 'the block' he called it. Captive. His bed is a cot on the perimeter of this 'block.' I wonder how he'll find his space in this 'dorm.'

He sounds much better today than he did at 4 a.m. when he called collect from the Orange County Jail. He was angry. He was sometimes incoherent — holding the phone under his chin . . . mumbling. 'Old warrants,' he said. 'Already taken care of,' he said. 'Look up Orange County on the internet,' he said. 'They're corrupt.' It was difficult to say that I wouldn't help. That I wouldn't pay his bail. 

His girlfriend said that the warrants are unpaid traffic violations for throwing cigarette butts out of a car window. Is that really possible? The girl at the Orange County Inmate Info line said, 'yes,' but that she was not able to give information over the phone. 'If you'd like to come down . . . '

I had the pleasure of speaking with a man who identified himself as a 'friend' of my son's. He is the father-in-law of my son's last employer. Someone who has gone beyond to help him. Someone who is there and who cares. He said that he'd visit C tomorrow if he could. He said that he'd let me know.

It's so hard to turn my back and walk away.