On the Ropes (Down for the Count) (29 page)

“It looks worse than it actually is,” I look down at the gauze and notice that blood is beginning to seep through.

“We’ll deal with this later. Let’s focus on your brother now,” he pauses, “and why didn’t you tell me he came back around?”

“I dunno,” I shrug my shoulders.

“Is this what you were hiding from me this morning?”

“Frankie,” I exhale loudly, “I told you, and I’m not hiding anything. But, if you must know, I ran into him last night. I went to the fiestas patronales in my old neighborhood. We… I mean, I,” I quickly correct myself, “ran into him in the parking lot.” I explain the rest of the story to him, leaving out all the parts that contain Salem. “When I saw him this morning, he was fine. I shoulda fuckin’ known he was gonna pull some shit like this,” my anger and disappointment are obvious in my voice.

“And how were you supposed to know?”

“I knew he was still using. I saw the track marks on his arms along with the need in his eyes.”

“Kid, you did what you could for him. You offered him a place to stay. That’s more than most people would’ve done.”

“It wasn’t enough. I shoulda stayed home with him this morning, not let him out of my sight.”

“Babysit him? He’s an adult, Gabriel. He makes his choices; he chooses to use.”

Frankie has no tolerance for people who choose a path like Jase’s. I, on the other hand, feel like I could’ve been the driving force in his life. I could’ve been there for him, been his mentor, the father figure we never had. But, instead I’d let him down, again.

“I shoulda been there for him like I promised I would,” now sadness is building inside me, as well. If I knew I could punch something without completely shattering my hand, I probably would.

“Not another word, Gabriel,” Frankie’s voice is stern. “You’re a good man with a kind heart. You can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped.”

Judge Ferriter is waiting outside of the police station when we arrive. He hasn’t changed much in the years since we’d last seen each other. As we approach, I notice that he’s gained some weight, his face is much fuller than I remember, and his hair is both thinner and grayer than before. “Frankie, it’s great to see you again!” he calls out in his boisterous voice. “And Gabriel, look at you. You’re a man,” he looks me up and down. “Frankie’s been keeping you busy, I see,” grabbing a hold of my bicep muscle. Forgetting about my knuckles, I extend my hand out to shake his hand. He looks down, “What happened?”

“His temper happened,” Frankie squawks.

“It looks worse than it is,” I explain.

Frankie rolls his eyes at me, and the three of us walk through the door to the police station. I begin to feel anxious, a knot is forming in my stomach, and my mouth is suddenly very dry. This has an all too familiar feeling. It’s been years since I stepped foot in a police station, but it’s certainly something I’ll never forget. My first time being picked up, handcuffed, and shoved into the back of a police car seems like it was just yesterday. I clearly remember the bumps and bruises I endured as I was taken out of the car, how I was manhandled by the officers who took my mug shot and fingerprinted me. I’m hoping they’ve treated Jase differently.

Judge Ferriter walks right up to the window. “We’re here to see Sergeant Delaney.”

“Is he expecting you?” the young female officer behind the window inquires with a little attitude. She can’t be more than twenty-three or twenty-four years old.

“Yes, tell him Judge Ferriter is here,” his tone is full of bite, demanding respect.

“Yes, Judge,” her eyes quickly dart away and she picks up the phone. “Judge Ferriter is here to see you,” she places the phone back on the receiver. “He’ll be right out,” she smiles nervously at us.

“Joe, come on in,” a heavy-set man wearing a dark, navy blue police uniform invites as he opens the door to the left of us.

“Are we gonna see Jase, now?” I ask the judge anxiously. My thoughts flash back to last night and how terrified he looked when I lost my cool with him. He looked like a scared child. I can’t imagine what he’s feeling like now; alone and locked up in a holding cell.

“Soon, Gabriel, soon. We need to talk to Donald first,” he motions to Sergeant Delaney. “First, we’ve got to find out what your brother is being charged with and if he has any outstanding warrants.”

“I’m pretty sure he does.”

“Oh? How do you know that?”

“He told me last night that he has an outstanding warrant for a B&E.”

“Gentlemen, why don’t you have a seat in here?” Sergeant Delaney shows us into a small conference room. There are six chairs evenly placed around a rectangular table. I take a seat next to Frankie while the judge sits at the head of the table and Sergeant Delaney sits at the other end.

“Donald, what are we looking at here?” the judge asks, not wasting any time.

“When my guys picked him up, he was high as a kite. He’s coming down now and in a private holding cell. He’s gone through quite a few emotions since being here. When we found him in someone’s house, he fled. He gave the guys a pretty good chase and almost got away. Once they caught him; he resisted, and they almost had to taze him.”

“Tazed!?” I can’t help my outburst, and everyone looks at me.

The sergeant continues, “When they secured him in the car, he began beating his head against the window,” I cringe at this last statement, “but, once he settled down, he began to cry. He kept saying how disappointed you’re going to be,” he’s now directing his attention towards me.

I roughly run my hand through hair. “Gabriel, he’s gonna be okay,” Frankie reassures.

“How do you know that?” I shoot him a dirty look.

“He’s coming off a high and maybe a little time behind bars will be good for him. Let him detox in here.”

“Detox in here? Are you crazy? He needs to be in rehab for that,” I shout, standing up from my seat. The fact that he’s not showing any compassion for Jase is pissing me off. He’s not just another junkie off the streets dammit; he’s my family, my
real
family.

“Gabriel, settle down. I’ll see what we can do to get him into a treatment center,” Judge Ferriter offers.

After hearing his words, I calm down a little, even though I’m still frustrated. “Can I see him now?”

The judge looks to Sergeant Delaney, who nods his head. “I’ll bring you to him,” he stands and walks to the door, holding it open for me. “We’re going to take a left and then a right at the end of the hall.”

I hear a loud buzz as we approach the door at the end of the hallway and stay back as it slowly opens. “Can you bring him in to see Jason Vega?” the sergeant requests from the guard standing just beyond the door.

I follow the guard halfway down the hallway. Pulling out his keys, he unlocks the heavy metal door and slides it to the side. I step inside and see Jase, balled up on the small cot in the corner of the room. His arms are covering his face and his body shudders every few seconds. “Jase,” I tap his shoulder cautiously, trying not to scare him. He jumps a mile at my touch anyway, “Stay away from me!” he yells.

“Jase, it’s me,” I whisper.

“Gabe?” his eyes are glossy and red. “I tried Gabe. I tried so hard,” he throws his arms around me, his grip much stronger than I would’ve expected it to be.

“I know, Jase,” I gently rub the back of his head like you would a child. “I should’ve stayed with you today,” my voice is full of regret.

He pulls away from me. “It wouldn’t have mattered, Gabe. I can’t help it!” his eyes say it all. “This fuckin’ junk
owns
me,” he cries as he punches himself in the arm. I wince at his self-destructive behavior; all his hurt and pain is right there, staring at me. I wish I could take it all away to make him whole again.

“We’re gonna get you better, Jase. You can stay with me for as long you need. You can have my room, and I’ll sleep on the couch.” I’m desperate, I’ll say anything to get him not to take off again.

“I… I… I’m not sure I can get better, Gabe,” he weeps.

“Gabriel. Jason.” We look up at Judge Ferriter. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” he looks at us with compassion in his eyes. It’s the same look he’d given me all those years ago. “You’re free to go, Jason,” he informs with a small smile.

“Really?” Jase’s eyes are wide in amazement.

“There are some conditions you’ll need to follow.” I can tell by the tone of his voice that he’s very serious, and there’s definitely no messing around with him. I’ll do everything I can to make sure that every condition he outlines will be followed to a “T.” “You’re being released into your brother’s custody,” Jase’s eyes dart to me, and I see a little glimmer of happiness. “In addition, you’re going to be required to wear an ankle bracelet and will have a curfew,” the judge continues. “We’re trying to get you into a program, but until that time, you’ll need to report to the methadone clinic down on Albert Street. It’ll help you curb your urges to use.”

We stare at the judge, speechless, neither of us knowing what to say or how to thank him.

“You’re going to have to see a probation officer and take periodic drug tests, as well. If you don’t follow all of these rules, you’ll find yourself in jail, and you won’t get another chance from me. Do you understand me, Jason? I’m willing to help you, but only if you’re willing to help yourself too.”

Jase nods his head, but he’s suspicious about Judge Ferriter’s motives. “Why are you doing this?”

“Jase, please just take his help. He helped me when I needed it,” I plead with him. “He’s the one who made it possible for us to see each other when we were separated.”

“He is?”

“Yes, you can trust him.”

He squeezes his eyes closed, and tears run down his cheeks. He sighs heavily and says, “Okay,” still sounding a bit unsure.

“Make it happen,” the judge says to Sergeant Delaney, who is now standing in the doorway.

“I’ll begin the process,” he responds then disappears down the hallway.

“Why don’t you boys go sit in the conference room? We’ll come get you when you can leave,” Judge Ferriter says.

Jase and I walk down the hall side by side; my arm is around him, and his head is resting on my shoulder. The loud buzz of the door unlocking makes him jump. “It’s alright, that’s the sound of them letting us out,” I squeeze him. “You’re not coming back here ever again.”

Frankie is sitting in the room alone. “Everything okay, Gabriel?” he asks as I enter the room.

“It’s getting there, Frankie,” I smile as Jase follows right behind me. “Frankie, this is my little brother, Jase. Jase, this is my trainer and mentor, Frankie.”

“Jase, it’s great to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you over the years,” Frankie greets him warmly.

“Thank you for taking such great care of my brother,” Jase responds.

“He’s taken care of me too,” Frankie looks over at me. It’s not like him to get all soft and warm. “The two of us have made a good team together these past years. I’m very proud of everything Gabriel has accomplished.”

“This thing fucking sucks.” Jase is fidgeting with the ankle bracelet that was secured on his leg just fifteen minutes ago.

“You better get used to it, kid. You’re going to be wearing it for a while,” Frankie smiles at him in the rearview mirror.

“Don’t remind me,” he moans.

“Hey, it’s better than sitting in a cell,” I add.

“Most def,” he smiles.

“Where are we going?” I look out the window.

“We have an appointment with Blaine, remember?” Frankie reminds me.

“We’re still going to that?”

“Yes, Gabriel. We have details to iron out.”

“
Where
are we going?” Jase asks.

“Gabriel has an appointment with his sponsor.”

“Sponsor? Like an AA sponsor?”

“No,” I smile at him, “a sponsor for my fighting.”

“Oh, never heard of that kind of sponsor before.”

“Gabriel will be promoting Blaine’s gym, that’s his sponsor. He’s also training there. Well, who knows now,” Frankie looks down at my hands, “we still need to see what damage he’s done to his hands.”

“Yeah, what the hell happened to your hands? They were fine this morning.”

“Yes, Gabriel, what
did
happen to your hands?” Frankie mocks.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” I groan, “I hit a heavy bag one too many times without my gloves on.”

“Not thinking about the damage you could do to your hands.” Frankie just can’t help himself but to take another dig at me.

“So, he’s gonna pay you to promote his gym and train there?” Jase asks.

“Pretty much.”

“Wow, that’s a good deal.”

“I guess.”

“Well that doesn’t sound very convincing.”

Frankie jumps in, “That’s what I keep telling him, Jase. But, of course, he doesn’t wanna listen to me.”

“Oh great, now the two of you are going to gang up on me? This is just what I need,” I joke.