Prologue

The sky released an unusually brutal rain the day my father was released from prison. Lancaster, a pint-sized Michigan town, endured the storm for hours. I sat near the high loft windows of our apartment and watched. Rippled human outlines rushed along sidewalks, holding briefcases and newspapers as shields. A tall man jogged from the corner, holding out the side of his coat. There was a pair of small legs trying to match his pace. My skin prickled.

"To wash clean of the sins," my mother would say in Spanish. "A new beginning".

She repeated it over and over, like a mantra.

It was August 2000 and I had turned seven some weeks prior. There were endless jokes of my father's homecoming being a late birthday present. My brother, Alexander, was ten. He had met Michael Flag, and in his young mind created fantastic tales to justify our father's extended absence.

"Dad is a pirate king," Alexander stated matter-of-factly. In his wisdom, there was no need for explanation. I was left to wonder alone. Had our father stolen ships? Found secret treasure? Was there a bounty on his head? Surely something amazing if the pirate king abandoned his family.

At the time, all of this was completely logical. I had never seen our father, save for photographs and a vivid imagination. When the day came, I had little realism to guide me.

Alexander and I waited in our mother's van, dressed like we were about to meet God. Which wasn't far from the truth. Alexander occupied himself with a hand-held game and I fidgeted in my seat. The clouds masked an afternoon sun and fat droplets made it impossible to see. The only thing that cut through the darkness were watery circles of tail lights from the freeway. We sat in silence for forty excruciating minutes.

Thirteen years later, I repeat that moment. Tomorrow my father and many of our friends come home from county. Felony drug charges and petty theft held them for nearly a year, but an acquittal came through. This time I am under no impression of pirate kings and thrilling adventure.

My father is an outlaw.