heart, I know she’s only speaking the truth. A dark truth about me that I don’t want to uncover.
“Our life was shitty. Fuck, our life now is shitty. But you go around pretending that everything is perfect. Like fairies are coming out of your fucking ass!”
Tucker is getting riled up now.
“Tucker, let’s not use that kind of language towards each other. It’s not conducive to an open environment.”
He mutters an “I’m sorry” after Dr. Taylor admonishes him.
“You had enough bad stuff going on in there, all right? I thought I could be a shining light or something for you. That I could brighten up your weekends and put you in a good mood. I know it was hard. I know it’s hard now. But why do we have to dwell on it? We could be making each other happy right now, but instead you’re choosing to focus on the negative.”
Tucker stares into my eyes. “Because you want to ignore the big fat elephant in the room that’s practically sitting on both of us. We’re not perfect, so can we please stop pretending to be? I’m a convict. A felon. I’m going to work a construction job until the day I die. And I think … maybe you regret getting involved with me. Deep down, I think you’re still trying to aspire to this perfect little wife and woman picture your mother put in your head years ago. You don’t have to be that person, Char.”
His words sting deep and hard. It’s like pouring salt in a bloody gash. His words nearly knock my breath from my lungs.
I can’t help being childish. “Well, sorry you don’t like the woman you married.”
Tucker’s voice is quiet when he responds. “I love the woman I married. The one from the woods. But this person, right now? I don’t really like her. I’m not thrilled with this version of the person I married.”
I look right at him. “I guess that makes two of us then.”
13
Tucker
One Year Ago
T his is what hell looks like.
When they show you that stupid reality show about bad kids going to prison to see what their lives could turn into to … it isn’t all that stupid. And I’ve only seen the show because they play it on the TVs here, which is asinine because we’re already here. But yeah, irony.
The depiction is pretty correct though. Prison is scary when you’re a sixteen-year-old shithead, as well as when you’re a twenty-six year old convict.
After I took the two and a half year deal, I got transferred to a prison about half an hour away from the one I was being held at until my arraignment. Which meant further drive time for Char. And scarier inmates for me.
SCI Mahoney was an all-male facility within the Pennsylvania Department of Corrections. It housed murderers, crooks, child molesters and the worst scum of The State of Independence.
And now I was one of them.
But I was also a new one of them. Which meant I got fucked with.
Not physically, no … I would kill someone before I ever let them rape me. But I’d been threatened with it when I first got here a year ago. I’d been held up against the wall, or to my bed, and beaten until my ribs cracked.
“Watch those books, Lynch. Getting in my way and shit.”
Mike Raxon, or Rax as they call him in here, throws the books I was studying from to the floor. In the library. Where you’re meant to have books all over the table.
The guy is a thug, a lifer as they say. Has been in and out of prisons since he was a juvenile. Assault, robbery, attempted murder. You name it, he’s probably done it.
And he gets off on picking on the straight-laced crowd in here.
I’ve done some shit. Seen some shit. But compared to the lifers and crooks in here, I’m a saint. When I got locked up, I made a promise to myself that I’d stop being a screw up. That I’d clean up my act so I could be the best person I could be when I got out. For Charlotte.
And now I’m days away from graduating with my college degree. But this place has a way of beating you down. Breaking your spirit. I’m not as gung ho
“Our life was shitty. Fuck, our life now is shitty. But you go around pretending that everything is perfect. Like fairies are coming out of your fucking ass!”
Tucker is getting riled up now.
“Tucker, let’s not use that kind of language towards each other. It’s not conducive to an open environment.”
He mutters an “I’m sorry” after Dr. Taylor admonishes him.
“You had enough bad stuff going on in there, all right? I thought I could be a shining light or something for you. That I could brighten up your weekends and put you in a good mood. I know it was hard. I know it’s hard now. But why do we have to dwell on it? We could be making each other happy right now, but instead you’re choosing to focus on the negative.”
Tucker stares into my eyes. “Because you want to ignore the big fat elephant in the room that’s practically sitting on both of us. We’re not perfect, so can we please stop pretending to be? I’m a convict. A felon. I’m going to work a construction job until the day I die. And I think … maybe you regret getting involved with me. Deep down, I think you’re still trying to aspire to this perfect little wife and woman picture your mother put in your head years ago. You don’t have to be that person, Char.”
His words sting deep and hard. It’s like pouring salt in a bloody gash. His words nearly knock my breath from my lungs.
I can’t help being childish. “Well, sorry you don’t like the woman you married.”
Tucker’s voice is quiet when he responds. “I love the woman I married. The one from the woods. But this person, right now? I don’t really like her. I’m not thrilled with this version of the person I married.”
I look right at him. “I guess that makes two of us then.”
13
Tucker
One Year Ago
T his is what hell looks like.
When they show you that stupid reality show about bad kids going to prison to see what their lives could turn into to … it isn’t all that stupid. And I’ve only seen the show because they play it on the TVs here, which is asinine because we’re already here. But yeah, irony.
The depiction is pretty correct though. Prison is scary when you’re a sixteen-year-old shithead, as well as when you’re a twenty-six year old convict.
After I took the two and a half year deal, I got transferred to a prison about half an hour away from the one I was being held at until my arraignment. Which meant further drive time for Char. And scarier inmates for me.
SCI Mahoney was an all-male facility within the Pennsylvania Department of Corrections. It housed murderers, crooks, child molesters and the worst scum of The State of Independence.
And now I was one of them.
But I was also a new one of them. Which meant I got fucked with.
Not physically, no … I would kill someone before I ever let them rape me. But I’d been threatened with it when I first got here a year ago. I’d been held up against the wall, or to my bed, and beaten until my ribs cracked.
“Watch those books, Lynch. Getting in my way and shit.”
Mike Raxon, or Rax as they call him in here, throws the books I was studying from to the floor. In the library. Where you’re meant to have books all over the table.
The guy is a thug, a lifer as they say. Has been in and out of prisons since he was a juvenile. Assault, robbery, attempted murder. You name it, he’s probably done it.
And he gets off on picking on the straight-laced crowd in here.
I’ve done some shit. Seen some shit. But compared to the lifers and crooks in here, I’m a saint. When I got locked up, I made a promise to myself that I’d stop being a screw up. That I’d clean up my act so I could be the best person I could be when I got out. For Charlotte.
And now I’m days away from graduating with my college degree. But this place has a way of beating you down. Breaking your spirit. I’m not as gung ho
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