Chapter 15

     It took me awhile but I did get copies of the arrest report, the whole deal went down on Patrick's side of the wrecker.  Patrick did get out on his own recognizance three days later, because it was his first offense.  I picked him up outside the jail.  "I suppose I'm fired?"  Patrick asked.

     "Yep!" I answered.

     "Why?!" He spat, "I'll talk to Big Mike, there is no reason I should lose my job over this!"

    Well, Big Mike did fire him, nicely of course, he told him he had put our transport company on the line by doing it in the wrecker.

     Mike spent the next month in jail, no bond, they were keeping him.  At first I was glad I couldn't get him out, he needed to see what life was like.  We all have choices and he had made his.  It wasn't long before I found out how "BAD" you get treated by these deputies, prisoner or not.  I called to find out when I could visit, they gave the time and the hours, and instructed me to bring my license.

     I arrived, fed the parking meter $2.00 went inside, I was directed upstairs, where I was instantly thrown out because my shorts were not to my knees.  Nobody told me what to wear, my shorts were only 2 inches above my knees.  A woman next to me had come 50 miles to see her boyfriend, she had to go buy something else to wear.  Fortunately, I lived only 3 miles away, I went home, grabbed a long skirt, threw it on over my shorts, still wearing my tennis shoes, I was back in less than 30 minutes.

     More money for the parking meter, I went and signed in, little did I know I was going to wait for an hour.  More money for the parking meter, I was out of change, they call me up.

     "Oh, you can't take your wallet inside!" The guard informs me.  "you can rent a locker to put your wallet in."

     "I can't afford a locker, I put all my change in the parking meter!"  I cried.

     She looked around and then back at me, deciding I must be harmless, she let me go.

    Through two locked doors, I'm buzzed through, down a hallway I see Mike, behind a glass partition, equipped with a phone for conversation.  Oh my God, I think, here we are!

     I didn't say I told you so, I didn't rub it in that I warned him this was what would happen.  I see how rough he looks, I feel my heart swell to overflow.  He doesn't know a mother feels your pain magnified 100 times over.  A mother also knows when punishment is good for you, but remember, A mother loves her children so much she will let you learn "The hard way"  I just wish he would learn.

     "I go to court next week, maybe they'll post a bond then.  Are you sure there's no bond, Mom?"  Mike asks.

     "No bond Mike, I'm sorry."  I respond.

     We talk for a while, he signs papers turning his bank account over to me, his wallet and keys he wants me to take with me.  The guard takes the papers "somewhere".

     "You wouldn't believe what they feed you here."  Mike says

continuing, "the water is yellow, the bologna is green, did you hear about the mouse parts they found?  They want to charge me $2. a day to stay here and $10. for the clothes.  They have a commissary, I could get food and toiletries but they would take the money I owe them first so don't put any money in my commissary."

    "Are you sure Mike, I could put $100. in for you that should cover your bills and leave money left over for food."  I ask.

     "No, I'll be all right."  He replied.

     We talked some more, then the guard called him back, our visit was over.  On the way out I asked if I could bring his 10 year old sister next time.  The guard said yes, but bring her birth certificate too.  She explained that some people brought other kids in and that's why they needed the birth certificate.

This line of reasoning made no sense to me whatsoever. 

     Downstairs I tried to get the things Mike had signed over to me, but the paperwork hadn't come down yet.  They asked me to come back later.  Like I have nothing else to do!  To make a long story short, they never did find the paper Mike had signed.

     Mom called Tom (my other brother) asking him to get some money to Patrick, who was by now starving!

     Tom had gotten the job driving the wrecker, after Patrick got fired. 

     "Mom want's me to take some money to Patrick, he called her and got her all upset.  I guess I'd better go see how he is doing."  Tom said.

     I angrily replied, "My son is in jail, barely eating, he isn't free to support himself or come home and eat.  Patrick could get a job instead of calling mom."  I threw my hands up in despair, "I'm going send a money order to his commissary, he may be in jail, but he shouldn't have to starve."

                   * * *

     The following week, Big Mike noticed Patrick's bus that had been parked at our office was now at his house.  "I wonder how he got it over there?"  Big Mike asked.

     "I have no idea." I replied, Thinking nothing of it.  "He did say he thought he had a buyer for it."

     Bobby came by the office that morning, Bobby owned the complex our office was in, "We've had a break-in, 2 cars were broken into last night, I changed the code on the gate." 

     I called Tom into the office, looking at Tom I asked Bobby to repeat what was stolen.  He repeated the items, a stereo, sound system, and numerous CD's in their holder.  "Tom" I urged, "Go over to Patrick’s and see if he has any of this stuff! Don't say anything if it's there, just come back and get me."

     "I hope Patrick’s not involved in this, damn it!"  Tom swore. "I'll go see." 

     When Tom returned, he told Bobby, "He's got stolen property over there, but it's not the stuff you described.  He said he came over here last night to get his bus, said he even borrowed gas from the guy next door.  But he didn't break into any cars."

     After Bobby left, Tom said "I don't know Peggy, I think some of that stuff does belong here."

     "What!"  I exclaimed, "you said it was different models, you said it wasn't.

     "Well, what did you want me to do, hand my own brother over? I couldn't do that, Peggy, I'm sorry."  Tom stated.

     "I'm going over there; at least maybe we can get the stuff back."  I said.

     "I'll go with you, Peggy, please try to stay calm."  Tom ordered.

     "Yeah, right!"  I spat.

 

                                * * *         

     I knocked loudly on Patrick's door, then pushed it open. 

     "What the hell do you think your doing, Peggy?  Patrick yelled.

     "I want to see the stuff, the stuff, you guys took last night from the shop.  Where is it, Patrick?

     Silence, then, "You can't come in here acting like this, you’re not the cops."  Patrick yelled again.

     "I may not be the cops, but I can call them, where is it Tom?"

     "In the bedroom. Just show it to her Patrick. I'm sorry, I don't like being in this situation, what the hell would you do?"

     Patrick, his two boy, Mike and Rick and a friend of theirs followed me into the bedroom.  "Honest to God Aunt Peggy, we didn't get this from the shop."  My nephew Mike said.

     "Let me see it, are these the speakers?  I asked.

     "There not the kind Bobby said were stolen," Tom said, "but show her the CD's, you guys."

     The case was right, "I'll take this and show it to Bobby, we'll let him decide."  I said accusingly.

     Then the friend said, "One of those CD's belong to my friend, let me get that one out before you take it."

     "No!  If it's not stolen, I'll bring it back!"  I replied.

     "Can I just look and see if it's in there? Please?"  He said.

     I looked at Tom, he shrugged, "let him look" he said.

     I handed him the case, and off he went, around the corner out the door, gone.  They had gotten rid of everything, from the time Tom warned them until the time I got there they had gotten rid of everything.  "Well, I'm still telling Bobby it was you guys, I can't believe you would go in there and steal from people that you worked with."  I screamed. 

     More name calling and arguing went back and forth, but it was useless, I could do no good.  I was a rotten person, My brother hated me and threw me out of his house, his kids hated me too.  I did find some of my things there and I retrieved them.  Of course I was always made out to be the bad guy.  It didn't matter to any of them that I loaned them the money to get this place, or any other money I loaned them, furniture, whatever.  If it was mine, they figured it was also theirs, "the family factor". 

     I did tell Bobby, but he said, "Peggy, this doesn't reflect on you, keep your mouth shut, the guy who owns the stuff has a gun and wants to use it.  If anybody asks, you don't know anything." 

     Patrick justified his behavior telling anyone, "They fired me for no reason, I shouldn't have to beg them to keep my job, I was set up."   It was always someone else's fault.  Patrick never accepted responsibility for his actions, never.