Do you know that feeling, that you have to do something.....but can´t quite remember what?
This story is just that.
I remember being told to write it but I can´t remember what I was supposed to tell you. What I do know is that everything I am going to tell you really happened, even though it may unbelievable sometimes.
Hit Rewind to start from Chapter One
Chapter 47
Maybe I should have asked where I would be awaiting my departure, but I didn´t. I was too late and the answer presented itself pretty soon anyway.
I was brought to a prison, not that far from where I once lived. I was so glad that I asked if I could get my coat because I did not bring anything except for the clothes on my back. Fortunately, these were clean clothes so they should hold up a couple of days.
After going through the enrollment process I was put in a cell with another inmate. He had been there several years already and needed to do another eighteen months, that much I got from our initial conversation.
Later on, I found out that he was there because he got into a bar fight and killed the guy that he was fighting with. Nice, I was sharing a room with a murderer.
He wasn´t all bad, he showed me the ropes and explained some things. He also had a tv in his cell, so we could kill some time watching Spanish TV. You don´t know how bad TV shows are until you watch them in a language you are not to familiar with, or maybe it´s just that Spanish TV feels like being back in the 90s.
All in all, this wasn´t that bad I thought, I could get through this weekend waiting on my plain.
What was bad is that I still had no way of contacting Yella, she must be scared to death. How was she gonna hold up all by herself with hardly any money and no understanding of Spanish?
By grabbing my coat I also grabbed my wallet, which proved to be a very lucky coincidence. The fact that I never carried a lot of cash was not so lucky, because jail ain´t free.
I did not even get my one free phone call, but the ten euros I brought allowed me to buy a pre-paid card and I was allowed to look up some phone numbers on my phone. From all the numbers I wrote down I was not able to reach anyone.
I tried calling Yella, multiple times that day, but her phone had been switched off. That meant she probably was not alone in the house, they must have taken her as well. Would she have gone voluntarily? Would she be in a cell like me?
And if she wasn´t in the house, who was going to take care of the dogs?
I went to the desk where they previously helped me with some questions and accessing my phone and I tried my best to explain the situation with the dogs. After pushing them a bit they promised that they would inform the police to make sure the dogs were taken care of. They asked if I knew anyone that could take care of them.
Well, I definitely did not want Stephie to know about this, she just served me the divorce papers. That left me with very few options, really only one considering I did not want any colleagues to know about this.
The workawayers that helped me move into the new house after the summer had stayed there for a while before finding a place of their own. They had only recently moved out and we had grown pretty close, I had no idea who else to contact so I gave them their names and number and wished that Mork & Mindy one day would forgive me for saddling them up with this shit.
The thing I worried least about was myself, Yella and the dogs were the ones that kept running through my mind. Personally, I did not mind the jail that much, until the first night.
I knew that I snored, but I did not know that it was this bad, the guy on the bunk bed below me must have punched the bed at least 10 times that first night.
Great here I was sharing a cell with a killer and I was making it impossible for him to sleep. I tried everything, from stuffing my nose with toilet paper to putting the blanket in my mouth. I tried lying on my back, sides, and on my belly but nothing stopped me from making noise.
The guy with whom I shared the cell wasn´t as friendly that next day, fortunately, the other inmates were. Nobody bothered me in a bad way, and they even helped me out with coffee and a sweat suit as I had no money and no clothes.
I spend the little money I had on that pre-paid card and on deodorant because with only one set of clothes and no way to properly wash them that felt like a necessity.
My focus was on Monday, as I expected that to be the day I would leave if my snoring would not kill me first. Monday came and went, nothing happened. Nothing except for me possibly getting some control over the snoring because the last couple of nights he only hit my be three to five times a night.
There was really very little to do here, I was allowed to see a doctor and I asked for some lorazepam, just for my nervous because they were eating me alive and not just because the was a killer under my bed,
We were allowed 90 minutes outside twice a day, the rest of the day I had nothing to do. Even the dinner was eaten in our cell, and the waiting in line to get it was also not bringing any excitement. All I could do was wait, think, and drive myself crazy.
One of the most important lessons I learned was not to worry about things you can not change. It´s kinda hard practicing that when your girlfriend is alone with little money in a country where she does not speak the language, your dogs might be dying of thirst, and you yourself are housed in a prison, surrounded by criminals of all kinds and looking to be extradited for something .... but not knowing what exactly.
All that considered I did pretty well with some help from my little pam friends, and on Tuesday I even got a cell all to myself.
Damn, couldn't they have given me that upgrade a bit sooner, that would have helped a lot? Or did the guy, I really can´t remember his name, on the bed below me tell the regime that if they didn´t move me, he would strangle me in my sleep?
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