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.
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Chapter 52
My assumption clearly was wrong, my dad had no intention of picking me up. He had visited the jail a couple of days ago with clothes and a new book, but picking me up was not his plan.
He told me to go to my best friend's house in Tilburg. Great idea Dad, but how do I get there with no money?
He had not expected me to be there flat-broke, well I guess I can´t blame him for not thinking about that. This whole situation was way too much for the old man to handle.
Dad called the lawyer, and twenty minutes later he was back at the courthouse, picked me up, dropped me off at the train station, and handed me €50.
When I arrived in Tilburg I called my best friend, said that I was in town, and asked if I could stay a couple of nights at his place.
Later that week I finally understood why my dad didn´t pick me up. He visited me and Esteban and looked so horribly worn down by all the worrying that I was even scared for him driving back home. He had aged 10 years in these last couple of weeks.
I needed a plan, basically, should I stay or should I go? The thing was I hoped to get my wallet back as it contained all my cards, but nobody could give me an estimate of when it would arrive.
Luckily my passport and a bs story about my wallet being lost were enough to get a new Dutch bank card within a couple of days. I also got an old mobile, barely able to do anything but WhatsApp. After a week of waiting Dad and I decided that I needed to go back to Spain, I still had my job and we should make sure that would remain as such.
It was a great end, to a tragic period spending that week with Esteban. I was scared, relieved, and uncertain about what would happen next, but most important of all was that I was free...for now.
And I learned a very important lesson, it doesn´t take much to get you arrested. It only needs someone screaming loud enough and spreading the right type of BS around people too afraid to make another mistake. One thing was certain my eyes were wide open and life would never be the same again, again.
It was a bit scary going back to Spain all by myself, not sure about what I would encounter there. But I had to go and I arrived home on the night before Christmas to find my dogs still alive and taken good care of by Mork & Mindy.
The dogs looked great, but the house? There was not one Christmas ornament in the whole house, everybody's house was shining, blinking, and screaming Christmas, and my house....nothing.
For which I was very thankful, after this year, and especially after these last three weeks the last thing on my mind was Christmas.
So we didn't celebrate Christmas, Mork & I got drunk on New Year's and I was very thankful for them taking care of the dogs and me not coming home to an empty house from which I was physically removed three weeks ago.
They told me that the local and regional press had a field day with the story and blew it out of proportion. I kinda noticed that when the neighbors with whom I did not have any contact other than saying "hi" now looked at me differently or at least that was how it felt.
On the bright side, at work, they had believed in innocent until proven guilty. They took all the measures required to keep a lid on this story. Which had worked better than expected, even the ones that did know had not spoken about it or so it seemed. Because till this day nobody ever made a reference to this despicable game that had been played with my freedom.
I thought my marriage was a stress test. It was, but I guess what they say is true. If you pass one test in life, there will be a bigger test right ahead. These tests are there for a reason, and I think the reason became very obvious these last couple of weeks.
In prison, they don´t tell you anything, things just happen. Pack your stuff, you´re moving to another cell. That´s it no reasoning, no heads up. Very hard for someone who always asks the why question indeed.
I did not have any info other than that I should be extradited within 10 days. Still, I knew in advance that I would be leaving for Madrid. In Madrid I knew that it would be my last day with Captain Dimitri, and even in the Netherlands I knew the exact day that I would be released.
The fact I knew, didn´t mean I believed what I it. Convincing yourself to believe what you hear when nobody speaks is damn hard. And those two weeks in jail definitely were not enough to make me a believer.
What it did do is it strengthened my belief that maybe I did no longer need a radio girl at my side to tell me what I couldn´t hear.
It was really nice to be released, but I was not free, not at all. There was still an ongoing investigation and Yella´s mom didn´t give up when she had the chance, she pushed forward.
That meant anything could happen, anything but me talking to Yella. Living with the idea that you might spend multiple years in jail if life decides that you did not learn your lessons yet is not really good for your health, physically and mentally.
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