Chapter 16

 

 

     Time went on and family forgives or at least tries to.  Patrick finally got another job hauling cars.  He was proud, so he called me.  "Patrick," I said, I was in court and they said your court date is set for November 4, you better go to court and straighten this out."

     "I didn't receive any notification, so I'm not going."  He said.

     "If you don't go their going to issue a warrant for your arrest, then you'll be screwed."  I responded logically.

     "I'll just tell them I moved and didn't receive anything."  he answered.

     "Okay, wall." I said.

     He had been evicted from his apartment and moved in with mom again.  This time he brought his two boys and a friend of theirs.

     "What are you doing bringing this kid?"  I questioned.

     "His mother doesn't want him, what am I supposed to do?"  He countered.

     "You can't bring him here.  Call his mother to come get him!"  I answered.  "You certainly can't afford to take care of him, your living with your mother aren't you? 

     He never did, he went out on the road and left mom with the headache of feeding and caring for these guys.  I finally told the kid, "you've got to go."

     "Okay, I'll call my grandma."  he said.

     Later that week mom said he had called his grandma, but she didn't offer to help.  His sister is supposed to help him get a job.

     Patrick was trying to talk Tom into going over the road with him.  Tom wasn't sure what to do.  He said maybe after the season was over, he'd give me notice and go with Patrick.

     Mike had been moved into a drug treatment program inside the jail.  He went to daily meetings.  He was looking sad and scared when I visited him the first time after the move.

     "It's so dehumanizing Mom."  He cried, "I can't stand it here, they do random strip searches, they treat you like a piece of s**t.  I wish I could get out of here."  He couldn't stop crying.

     "Has something happened Mike?"  I asked, thinking of all the terrible things you hear about in jails.

     He didn't answer me, he was crying uncontrollably. 

     "You go back to court in a few day's, I talked to your lawyer, she wants you to tell him, "you want to go back to Drug Court" okay Mike, be sure you tell the Judge."  I was crying now too, wiping my eyes, I continued, "she said I should ask the Drug Court Judge to post bond and get you out of here, and I intend to do that." 

     "Do you think the Judge will do that?"  he asked, drying his tears.

     "I don't see why not, I mean I'm sure there will be stipulations, you can agree to staying in Drug Court if they'll have you can't you?" 

     "I'll die before I come back to jail, that's all I have to think about, if I get the urge for crack, I'll just think of this place, I'd rather be dead than be here."  he answered.

     Finally after 33 days in jail and 3 appearances in front of other Judges, Mike is back before the Drug Court Judge.  His Lawyer pleads with the court to let him out, following our plea that sitting in jail is redundant.  She asked the Judge to let Mike back into treatment and to release him from jail.  The Judge said the bond would be $2500.00 for 1 count and $3500.00 for the other count.

     "I'm going to get him out." I said, speaking to the judge.

     The Judge looked at me them Mike, "Next time I see you in jail, no one will be able to get you out!" she stated adamantly.       The look on her face told me she didn't think he had learned his lesson yet.  She didn't want me to get him out.  I reasoned he had learned, if he hadn't, next time he went to jail I certainly wouldn't get him out.  That was the end of October, he was told to talk to his counselor and try to get back into treatment.  His next Court date was just before Thanksgiving.

     I went to the bank, got the money, went back to the jail and posted Mike's bond.  I hoped we would be all right.  I prayed he could handle life without drugs.  And once again Amy and I waited outside the County jail for Mike to be released.

     He walked out of that place smiling from ear to ear.  Amy and I hugged him.  "What do you want to do Mike?"  Amy asked.

     "I want to go home."  Mike answered happily.

     Our lives returned to normal, we went to work, after work Mike went to drug treatment, he had not been accepted back by his counselor, but when she saw he was serious she decided to assign him another one.  One day about 2 weeks after he came home from jail, he said "My new counselor is only asking me to drop urine once a week, she must not know me very well."

     "Why don't you tell her you appreciate her trust but you would prefer to be tested more frequently."  I replied.

     "I'll see."  he responded.

     This was not good, I thought, she needs to stay on top of him. 

     I called his probation officer to see what exactly the Judge wanted to hear when Mike went back to court.  "Mike has been removed from my caseload."  she said.

     "What?"  I asked, "Why?" 

     "He isn't on my caseload anymore, tell him I wish him the best of luck, he really is a good kid, I was sure he would turn himself around." 

     "The Judge said she wanted to hear good things when he came back in November.  What could possibly happen in one month, what does she want to hear?"  I quizzed.

     "I can't speak for the Judge."  she replied.

     "Can you speak as a Mother?"  I pleaded.

     "I'd like to see Mike in an intensive in-house long-term rehabilitation program."  she answered. 

     "That's what the Judge wants to hear?"  I asked in disbelief.

     "That's what I'd want to hear, Mike has been given every opportunity.  He can do it but he needs help.  Good Luck, let me know how he's doing and please give him my best."  she finished.

     His lawyer agreed, Mike was outraged,  "I'm not doing it damn it."  he swore.  "I'm not going away again." 

     "Maybe if you stay clean and show them your serious this time they won't make you go."  I said reassuringly.

     When we went to Court Mike had been out of jail for 4 weeks, I know he tried to behave, but I knew in my heart he needed long term treatment too. 

     The recommendation came; Turning Point Bridge.  "That's a very good program, it will be good for you.  When you finish this program you will be released from Drug Court, Probation, and all of your charges will be sealed."  she continued, "there is a 4-6 week wait to get into this program, we'll let you know when a bed is available."  she finished.  "Have a happy holiday, I'll see you next year." 

     I think from that day on Mike figured if I have to pay the piper, I'm dancing.  Thanksgiving came, Mike left for the day, finally calling me late that night to come get him.  He was so out of it.  Then he would be good for a while then he would fall off again.

     One day at work he came in high, (I thought) he went to the airport to pick up a customer before I had a chance to question him.  When he came back, I took him outside.  "Mike, it kills me to say this to you, but you can't work while your high."  I said softly.

     "Uh-huh"  Mike said, "I'm all right."

     "I wouldn't let anyone else work if they came in high and I can't let you work Mike, go home and straighten up, I'll see you later."  I cried.

     "Okay, Mom."  he returned.

     That might have been the hardest thing I ever had to do!  But Mike didn't go home that day, or that night.  He went over Tom's house and they partied all night.  The next morning Tom called in sick and Mike never showed at all.

     Tom had the wrecker with him.  Tom was messed up too.

     "You have to bring the wrecker back."  I ordered.

     "Peggy, I'm in no condition to drive."  Tom answered. 

     "Tom, if Big Mike has to come and get the wrecker you’re gonna be in big trouble."  I threatened.

     "Okay, I'll be down in a little while, just let me get some rest first."  Tom responded.

     Tom brought the wrecker back, picked up his car that would not run the day before and left.  Big Mike told him to get some rest.  That night Tom was at the bar telling everyone that he was sick of babysitting for Mike.  He was going on the road with Patrick.

     The next day Tom was waiting for me when I pulled into the office, "Can I have my paycheck?"  he asked.

     "Sure," I said "then you can get out of my life I never want to see you again." 

     "Why are you mad at me, I have to take this job, it pays much better." 

     "I don't appreciate you blaming Mike for quitting when you knew all along you wanted to go to work with Patrick.  You don't have to use Mike."  I spat.

     "I didn't use Mike," he lied, I want to drive a truck, I hope I'm not making a mistake, but I've got to try." 

     "I've already hired another wrecker driver, not that you’re the least bit concerned about what I'm gonna do."  I said, continuing, "I don't even have to pay him as much as I paid you."

     Tom and Patrick left a few days later to make a trip to New York then California, back to New York then finally back to Florida.  They were gone for 4 weeks, they did get to stop in Michigan to see their families for the holidays.  When they got back they found themselves owing their boss money.  Don't ask me how but they were lucky to have made $500. each, unfortunately they had spent that on the road..

     Mike's car broke down so he wanted to go Christmas shopping with me.  He would have preferred I let him take my van but I couldn't risk him relapsing again.  We had fun shopping together.  This would be another year I tried to get him gifts he couldn't sell or trade for drugs.  On Christmas Eve we were invited to a neighborhood party where Santa came by in a boat to distribute gifts.  Mike didn't want to go, he didn't want to hear everyone express concern for him.  I didn't push it.  I left him home and the rest of us went to the party.  

     He seized the opportunity with what money I don't know.  He was home when we returned from the party, but not when we came back from Midnight Mass.  I remember thinking I don't want to have his funeral on Christmas.  I kept thinking he was going to sit down at the edge of my bed and tell me he was with Jesus and free of the pain his life had turned into.

     I had called Turning Point asking when they were going to have a bed available for him.

     "He's not even on our waiting list."  The woman said.

     "What do you mean he's not on your list, this was Court ordered."  I cried.

     "I'll have to call his probation officer, he was supposed to call us, but it appears he didn't."  she answered, "call back in a week, we'll see what we can do." 

     I called her back January 2, "Hi," I said, "did you get in touch with Mike's probation officer?"

     "Yes I did."  she responded, "we should have a bed available in the next week to 10 days.  I'll call you as soon as possible."

     "Thank you, and please hurry."  I pleaded.

     "Thank God your here Beth, I wouldn't want to do this alone. Big Mike doesn't understand how much Mike needs this program."  I said.  Big Mike hadn't said two words to Mike in over a month.  I asked him why, he said he had nothing nice to say.  "I give up." he said. 

     I couldn't give up, I could let go, but never give up. 

          "Does Mike know you’re calling Turning Point?"  Beth asked.

     "No, he doesn't need to know until it's time to go."  I answered her.

     We were interrupted by the ringing of the phone.  It was the lady from Turning Point, "Can you bring Mike in tomorrow morning?"  she asked.

     "Oh! Sure, tomorrow morning what time?"  I stuttered.

     "Have him here at 9 a.m. prompt." she replied.

     "We'll be there, thank you so much."  I hung up smiling and cringing at the same time.

     We decided not to tell Mike, to just wake him up in the morning and go.  Lord only knows what he would do.  I did want to make his last night at home special.  Then finally about 11 p.m. I told him.  It made for a very rough night, but we got through it and he went. 

     Beth and I dropped him off on January 3, 1997.  I was happy to do it.  I prayed they could help him.

     He called the next day with a list of things he would need, toiletries, clothes, cigarettes.  "They made me cut my hair off." he said, "so I just took the scissors and cut my ponytail off.  You can't visit me yet but they will let you drop the stuff off this week-end between 1 and 5 p.m., I'll see you then."  he said, sounding better than he had in months.

 

     I put everything in a bag and Beth and I headed up to Pompano Beach, we both went up to the window.  "My son Mike asked me to bring this to him." I said to the man in the window. 

     He looked inside, inspecting each item, then he asked someone to go get Mike, "you can see him for a few minutes," he said.

     Mike came out of one of the dorms, his blonde hair short and cropped, no mustache, clean shaven.  He looked good, he padded over to us, we hugged him.  "How you doing, Mike?"  Beth asked, "you look good."

     Mike shook his head, "I guess I'll stay here, I know I need help, I couldn't go on much longer the way I was, I'll call ya when I can have visits."  he answered.

     We talked for a few more minutes, then we left.  I felt better having seen him.  With each day that passed I breathed a little easier.  After a while he called and said I could come visit Saturday and Sunday.  "Bring food."  he said.  "You can come between 1 and 5 p.m.."

     So that Saturday I stopped at Kentucky Fried Chicken and took him a nice Chicken dinner.  From then on every Week-end I went up there with food.  He told me what they fed him, so I tried to bring him good food on the week-ends.

     Turning Point went through phases, they had dots.  When you first arrive you’re a yellow dot, you must know the rules and regulations and past a test to become a red dot.  Then after a week, you stand up in front of the Phase 1 community and read your autobiography, then repeat more rules and regulations that you have memorized.  The community then will ask you numerous questions, then they vote whether or not you get your blue dot.  With the blue dot comes the privilege of phones and visitation.       There are six modules, somewhat like chapters of your recovery.  Then there is green dot.  The green dots get to go off the grounds to work, and after they get a job they get to come home once a week.  First for eight hours, then 12 then 24 and finally 48 hours. 

     I had to sign up to be his furlough sponsor, I had to fill out papers that if I was with him, we would be home, he couldn't leave and neither could I.  They did a thorough background check on me. 

     After visiting every weekend for 2 months, he earned his green dot, and was allowed to go look for work.  No cars allowed you walk, take a bus or ride a bike.

     He wanted a job on the beach, but with his experience, transportation, it was slim pickins.  Interviewers questioned "You've only had one job?" They asked with raised brows.

     "I thought that showed I stayed in one place."  Mike exclaimed.

     "It should say that." I agreed.

     "Well they look down on me, when they see that on the application." he said disappointed.

     He tried hard to get a job on the beach, then finally he begged a restaurant owner to please try him.  "Let me be a busboy, I can do it."  He pleaded.

     "Come in tomorrow I'll try you out."  The owner said. 

     Mike went in the next morning, dressed as they told him, black pants, white shirt, black tie.  He didn't know where to start.  He confided this to one waitress, she tried to guide him, but was herself very busy.  At the end of the lunch hour the owner told him he could go, never offering any more work.  Mike called him later that afternoon asking if he was to report to work the next day.  The owner told him he needed someone with more experience, he didn't want to train anyone.

     The next day Mike was back out there looking for work.  He must have filled out dozens of applications these past weeks.  Finally he went to the car wash, they hired him on the spot.  It didn't pay much, he felt degraded in a way, remembering what he earned working for us.  He gave it all he could though and the bosses appreciated his efforts.  Always recognizing his hard work, his abilities, he received many verbal awards. 

     It did my heart good to see him handling his life so well

Author's Note

This was where I left it 14 years ago! Where should I go from here?