Caged Chapter 11

Rule on loved ones - they will always be weaknesses, but prison can bring out far greater ones.

From day one, Todd told his family not to come. He'd see George Strauss, his lawyer, for obvious reasons, and Bo Buchanan because he helped make life easier. Bo had gotten him the library job, arranged for his workers to be his cellmates, and watched out for his family. Todd wrote letters to his beloveds to make up for not seeing them. It had to be that way. It hurt too much to see them, and he didn't want the cons to know what his family looked like or see his joy at being with them.

One afternoon in the yard, a small four-person propeller plane dropped dramatically close to the ground, flying fast and noisy. The sight thrilled the cons, and like kids, they whoooped and yelled, running with it as it flew above their heads. The pilot looked out and waved his hand out a small window, giving an old fashioned thumbs up. The scene was brilliant, and wildly illegal.

From the bleachers, Todd smiled, because he just knew it was Jedediah. Hoped his kid wouldn't get his license yanked, or worse. He watched that white plane bank and then fade into the clouds. When it was gone from sight and he could no longer hear its engine, he took the near-done cigarette out of his mouth and put it out on the inside of his wrist, his eyes closing in a brief instant of ecstatic escape.

The next week, Jedediah tried to see him two days in a row and both times, Todd refused.

After the third time of refusing Jedediah, Todd had a seizure in his cell during the night. Ty Jerome was his cellmate at the time and he'd woken up to Todd making terrible noises and the bunk shaking hard. The kid had climbed down and was shocked to see what was happening. He froze. Watched the thing finally slow down. He remembered something from his childhood and tentatively turned Todd to his left side so he wouldn't choke on his tongue, whatever that meant. The kid moved to the cell door. Silent, silent. Todd had told him that this might happen. He wasn't allowed to call anyone. Todd didn't seem to be breathing though so Ty turned him again and that was when Todd gasped and seemed to wake up.

"Hey, Manning," Ty said, trying to be quiet, "Manning...you okay? Shit!"

Todd stared blankly at him, confused, trying to say something but saying nothing, dripping with sweat. Ty cleaned up his face of sweat and saliva, glad to do a little something nice for his strange tormenting protector without getting his face punched. Todd then slipped into a deep sleep while Ty lay awake the rest of the night.

The next morning, Todd didn't get out of bed because he was still in that dead-to-the-world state of mind. Ty said nothing to the guards, shrugging. The guards poked Todd until he stirred and he mumbled something about being sick so he was sent to medical.

There, the doctor once again offered meds, Todd refusing them, and once again the disorder was kept off the books. They let him sleep more. Soon he was awakened by an attendant. "You feel good enough for a visitor?"

He was weak and hungry and defenseless. And because of that, he said yes to seeing Jedediah, the first in a pivotal series of events that he would never be able to take back.

The sight of his son sitting at the visitor table across the room brought a small smile to his face and Jedediah got tearful, instinctively. They weren't allowed to hug, so Jed just held the table, Todd seeing the kid's white knuckles. But the kid got fearful next, eying the limp Todd had. Todd tried not to think of how he looked otherwise, sure he looked the mess he felt in his wrinkled white tee and the uniform blue sweats. At least the hair was pulled back. For all the beauty Jed had, Todd had to be the total opposite. He could see it in Jed's face, in the look of worry.

"You got hurt, Dad? Your leg...what happened? You sick?"

Todd shook his head, mutely telling Jed to never mind. He sat and just gazed at his beloved. His son looked older, his beard having come in. The kid showed off the fact by not shaving, wearing stubble. Todd knew the kid looked like him, but Jedediah lacked the bottomless pit of hate in his soul. The kid had been hurt in life, but not gutted. He had edge, but not the kind that would kill.

After some minutes of quiet, Jedediah grinned, asked in a gentle voice, "Hey Pops, did you see me fly over?"

"Yeah...watched from the yard." He paused, a look of concern falling over his features, "Did you...uh..." The words disappeared in typical post-seizure blankness, but Todd found them again. "Did you get in trouble?"

"No, I'm just that good."

Todd chuckled softly, then said, "Don't tell anyone you got in...to see me."

"You broke your rule. How come?"

"Four days in a row...I was...worried. You okay? Everything ok?"

"Yeah, yeah...definitely. I should have just done this earlier. Coming in so many times. Had I known..."

Todd smiled a little.

"Look," Jed continued, "I just wanted to tell you in person that I got my commercial pilot's license. I'm gonna work for R.J. Gannon, doing delivery of his liquor. Going international. Crazy, yeah?"

Todd reached out and held his son by the side of his head, his hand flat on the boy's soft, rich golden hair. Locked eyes with him, tightly, "Proud of you." Even more firmly, his hand tighter on the boy's head, he said, "Be careful with R.J."

"I will...he's good. Really."

They talked a little more, delicious chit-chat about the family, their lives, much the same of what they said in letters. Then, Jedediah said he wanted to see Todd more often than once every three years. Todd said he'd consider it. Looked around the room, not liking Jedediah being here. Thinking Statesville would rub off on his son. Thinking someone would follow him home and kill him in retaliation for Todd's prison doings. His beautiful son.

Todd's face crumpled with indecision. But he shook it off, pulling on a mood, a look, like a costume. His face got hard, his jaw muscles tight, working. His eyes lost their misted look of restrained love.

"Maybe, but don't tell Tea. Don't tell anyone. Come in a month. No sooner. No guarantees."

Jed grinned, "Okay. Deal." But he could see Todd looking around, could see the edges of fear in his eyes. Jed knew Todd was still in his mid-thirties or so...but today he looked much older than that. Lines had developed around his stark hazel eyes, and a fair amount of grey hair had mixed with the gold-brown hair. Jed laid his hand on Todd's, Todd looking at that, then up at his son.

"Pops, I'm alright, you know." He bent his head, spoke quietly, "I lived on the streets, I know these kinds of people. I deal with them...now. Outside. I can take care of myself, and your other kids. Starr, Lucia. I promise you. Being here...isn't going to hurt me."

The boy's voice wasn't that of a boy anymore. Jedediah had grown into a man, having left behind his teenage years.

Todd maintained that hard look on his face, nodded. Said words softly, "But it hurts me, Jed."

The kid got sad at that, saying in a quiet voice, "I love you, Pops. You...uh...got me where I am. If it wasn't for you...all that bad stuff, Kevin Buchanan never would have come looking. But...even so, it was you who kept me in Llanview, Tea for stepping in. You've been my father in every way. Especially these last three years. Even from here..."

One last gaze at his son, and he nodded a goodbye. No more words having to be spoken. Got to his feet. What he wanted was to grab Jed into his arms, and never let go. Before he disappeared behind the door, he looked at Jedediah still sitting at the table. The kid smiled slightly, but it disappeared. He looked small, sad, and vulnerable. If Jedediah landed here, he'd be eaten alive, man or no.

And that's what did it.

Turning, Todd walked out, a bloom of rage coming to life, not at his son, but FOR his son. For all the kids in this place being eaten alive by the likes of Jessie Horenda. He knew he should have felt something else at the visit, felt inspired to be...good...but he didn't.

The next morning, Todd woke shaking and ill with a decision. Today was the day he'd kill Jesse Horenda. Seeing his son gave him dreams all night, nightmares of Peter Manning abusing Jed, Phillip Manning abusing Lucia. He vomited, the beginnings of withdrawal starting. Heroin had gotten scarce. There'd been nothing to dull the pain of seeing Jed in person, seeing the years he'd missed with his kids and wife on the changed face of his beautiful boy.

He shoved a lethal shank into his shoe. Went through the motions of showering, eating, group therapy. Worked only an hour in the library, sending kids with info to get him cigarettes. The therapist had seen that Todd had the sweats, a bit of the shakes, and a runny nose. Cornered him. Todd lied and said that yeah, he'd seen the light and was giving up the dope. Praise the Lord, doncha fuckin' know.

He stalked Horenda all that day, into the afternoon, watching, watching, watching, like a mad dog. The kids tried talking to him a little and he hardly heard the words. They, and everyone else, stayed away from him because they knew there is nothing more dangerous than Manning when he's kicking.

Finally Horenda separated from his people, and Todd followed him. Followed him until Horenda was alone behind a building with one of his victims. One of the few hidden places in Statesville. Horenda was fucking one of the Serrano whores in the ass, a small kid, no more than eighteen, who dressed like a woman with makeup and long hair in braids. The kid held on to pipes to stay on his feet. It wasn't easy because Horenda was a big fat motherfucker and used all his strength to tear up these kids.

Todd stood nearby with the shank in his hand, just out of sight. Watched the violent sex act. The hate tasted like blood, sounded like an ocean's roar, and smelled like shit. His cock hardened with the rush of Horenda's impending death, the thought of bathing in the fucker's own blood making him higher than a pure shot of dope. Not giving a damn about the whore or any other witness or about any consequences, he was ready. Diego deserved this much. With that, he ran towards Horenda, flying at him like a fucking bat out of hell.

He hooked his arm around Horenda's throat and pulled him off the kid, pulling him to the ground, smashing him hard against the broken asphalt. He kicked the half-naked Horenda in the balls, two, three times, and then in the head. He jumped on the breathless, groaning Horenda, straddling him, and slashed at his throat, back and forth, but couldn't quite get where he needed to because Horenda's hands went up. He managed to push Todd off him, but Todd went right back at him like a wrestler, pounding the him back to the ground. Managed to shove that shank deep into Horenda's side, getting the motherfucker coward to shout out in agony. Todd yanked the knife out and lifted it in the air, intending to just start stabbing away at Horenda's massive chest, intending to keep stabbing until the motherfucker was dead.

And he would have done it but for the MK soldiers that came out of fucking nowhere and pulled the raging, eerily silent Todd off Horenda, sending Horenda scuttling away like a rat escaping a trap. The whore had long disappeared. It took a full ten minutes for Todd to even begin to stop fighting the two men who held him. Ernesto came around the corner, Rolon at his side.

A panting Todd just growled wordlessly at the tall Cuban leader in front of him, still jerking and pulling like the mad dog he was. The men who held him were the biggest men in MK and they were struggling at Todd's unbelievably deceptive strength.

"Basta...ENOUGH." Ernesto reached back and punched Todd hard on the side of his head to calm him down, finding he had to do it again. Todd finally went slightly limp in the two men's grip. Ernesto grabbed Todd's hair to lift his head up, locking eyes with him, "You've become important to us. And now you've fucked it all up. The Serranos are going to take vengeance on you now. Do you understand that?"

He found his voice again, getting to his feet more firmly. "Dying would have been worth it."

"What did that fucker do to you?"

"He did enough!"

Ernesto seemed to catch on to something, glancing at Rolon, hissing, "You said he didn't fuck these kids."

"He doesn't," Rolon growled. "He has a need for them but not like THAT."

"I don't believe it. He's too..."

Ernesto didn't get a chance to say the rest of the words because Todd kicked him in the crotch so hard that the big man fell to his knees and threw up. That got Todd a beating from hell. Ten minutes later, Todd was on his side, bleeding from his mouth, ribs cracked, and panting from pain. He managed to get on all fours, spitting blood and dirt. He tried to stand but couldn't, finally just lying on his side, like fuckin' roadkill.

"If you want to live, Manning, you only got one choice..." Ernesto huffed, kneeling on the ground, the pain still obviously present.

Todd laughed drunkenly, "Big motherfucker, soft huevos, yeah?"

Someone kicked him in the face for that. Todd now lay flat on his back, watching the moving clouds in the sky, unconsciousness still evading him. His arms and legs spread out, done.

"We can protect you from the Serranos, we'll protect your kids. We're willing to do it. We'll even figure out what to do with Horenda. If you come with us."

"Fuck you. Fuck your puta of a mother. Fuck all y'all."

"Without us, you will die. And so will your workers, one by one."

Todd looked at the man, eyed Rolon. "I'm a dead man anyway - so are they."

"If you come with us, you will have a family here in Statesville. A family for life. You won't be alone anymore, Manning."

And with that, he knew they'd learned his weakness. He thought it was his wife, his children, the seizures, his love of heroin, but no...it was his alone-ness, his fear of it. His innate and burning desire for belonging had always been his biggest weakness.

"We can protect your blood family on the outside, your acquired family on this side of the fence." Ernesto sat back, the pain subsiding. He said, "You're one of us, Blanco. You've been one of us since you first got here and gave us what we needed against the Aryan bastards that killed our right hand. When you called him by his given name, El Brujo...it was like God brought you to us. Not many outside MK knew that name. God spoke to us through you, allowed us to take righteous revenge."

"There is no God."

"Yes there is, hermano...I see God every time you stand up after getting your ass beat. I see Him in your face when you teach lessons to those maricones that hurt your kids. You got MK heart, man. You're magic...like a goddamn GOD. I have seen it, lo he visto con mis propios ojos. With my own fuckin' eyes. You belong with us."

Above him, the sky greyed, black crept up on him. He begged in his head to slip all the way into darkness but it wouldn't happen. He tasted blood. He covered his face with his bloodied hands. Thought of Jedediah, Lucia...Diego.

Send them to hell, Manning.

Slowly he sat up, putting his knees up. Spit more blood on the ground, watched a stream of red puddle inches below his hanging, stringy damp hair. He snorted his runny noise loudly. Spit again. He eyed the men. The image of Horenda pushing in and out of the boy made him sick. He gagged. Breathed deeply to stop from puking. Diego's weak voice echoed in his head.

I am nothing, always will be nothing. Dust to dust, you know? There was nothing he could say to give Diego a reason to go on. Let me feel what you feel...just this once before it goes black, yeah? Please...let me know one moment of happy.

"Private word with you and Rolon?" Todd murmured. Ernesto agreed, chasing off the soldiers. Todd got to his feet. It was just the three.

Looking at Ernesto, Todd said, "You'll help me finish off Horenda."

"Yes."

"You'll let me do my business in peace, then. And that means you leave me to the Jamaicans, the Ricans, any people I choose to deal with. You got no fuckin' say."

"Yes, so long as we come first. Primero."

"As you been. People can't know I'm part of MK 'cause it'll hurt my ability to get information. I won't be able to help YOU."

"No color?"

"No color."

Ernesto thought about it, looking at the tats Todd already had. "No, we need blood."

Rolon spoke up, "We'll work the letters. Been done before. Hide them in new ink, something his own. That way others won't know, but we will. HE will."

Ernesto paused, studying his own bloodied fist, then agreed. "That will work."

"One last...you help me teach my kids to protect themselves. So when I leave, or die, they'll survive."

"Te prometo."

"You don't pull 'em into MK though. You got that? They stay with me...but not this. Never this."

"Yes, we will leave them."

Todd eyed Rolon, Ernesto again. It was strange how he simply let go in that moment. Gave up his desperate need for control, gave up his refusal to fall into line like the rest of rats in Statesville. God, it was the one thing he wasn't willing to do...join a gang. But he was condemned, a dead man. Fuck. He was so tired of fighting alone. Seeing Jedediah in the flesh made him want to go home. He wouldn't make it there on his own. Not anymore.

So he let Ernesto put the MK noose around his neck. Deep inside he knew this feeling of letting go, giving up. From way, way back...at some point, a rape victim just lets it happen. When he quit battling Peter Manning, when he moved his body to help things along, he got more sleep.

"Okay," he said softly.

"Repeat after me, Blanco," Ernesto said, "'Toma mi vida al Mambo Kings.' I give my life to MK."

Todd swallowed the pit of hate and vengeance and sorrow in his throat. "Toma mi vida al Mambo Kings."

Ernesto smiled, "We give our lives to you, El Diablo Blanco. Welcome to MK, Mr. Manning."

And so it was that Todd became a member of Mambo Kings...the biggest...baddest...snakes in Statesville.

Ever since leaving Ty Jerome's ragged kennel, she felt Todd's weight on her, as if he wore the concrete of the block walls, the metal of the bars. She felt herself slipping beneath that...weight. In her head, she reminded herself of the twelve steps of Al-Anon, the codependency group. That was her...losing herself to him. She knew it was wrong, said it was wrong...but she watched herself dig in. Deep.

All the way home, writing in her notebook, she pulled every bit of information George Strauss had on her husband off the top of his head. He complied.

"I'm not staying in the dark anymore," she had explained. "I'm done with that. I'm not a delicate flower he needs to protect."

George bowed to her, agreeing to set up a meeting early in the week and lay out all "the shit in his drawers," his words not hers. The one thing he especially apprised her of were the local MK watering holes, the places Todd slithered through during his "absent" hours. All of them, very hot little clubs, one or two obvious, the others, underground, illegal.

A little part of her suddenly sprang to life, the jealous part. Todd had never been the philandering type, but that was before Brandy, before Statesville. That was before he'd developed a taste for sex as an alternative addiction. She looked at George as he drove, stone-faced. He glanced at her quickly, shaking his head like a disappointed school principal. "You wanted to know...you're gonna have to live with what you learn. You ready for that, little lady?"

"Don't little lady me...I can handle it. It's him who's going to have it rough."

Tea checked her cell, not finding any messages nor missed calls. When she arrived home, Viki was there, Todd having left the house, having called his beloved sister to watch the children because it was the nanny's night off. Viki was right in the foyer and pulled Tea aside before Tea could reach the children, "He took off fast, with hardly a look at us. He was definitely in a mood. I'm a bit worried...it's been a long time since I've seen him that way."

"I know...things are difficult right now. You've spoken to Bo?"

"No, he's sort of closed-mouthed when it comes to Todd."

"Well, Bo is onto something and...it might get bad."

Viki, knowing the complexities of her brother, didn't push. "Okay."

"I'm going to go get him. Can you...?"

"We'll get the children to bed, don't you worry. Starr said she wanted to stay over. She'll hold down the fort."

She hugged her sister-in-law, kissed her babies, said her goodbyes. Then she showered and changed. Dressed a little, putting on a cha-cha blouse with some slick, well-fitting slacks. Got her high heels. She knew Todd well, how to get his attention...and now that she learned of the MK spots, she needed to look the part. He'd see her. She'd make sure of it.

When she closed the front door of the house, ready to hit those hot spots, shot in the dark it was, she ran smack into Jedediah Chant. For the briefest second, Tea thought it was Todd, but no...Jedediah had similar features, height, build, but he carried himself differently. Lighter. Now that she looked at him in his dark clothes and leather jacket, she thought less of their differences and more of their similarities.

"Hey, wow, where the hell are you going?" He looked her up and down, a curious expression on his face.

"Look, little man, I'm on a mission. Out of my way."

Jedediah stepped in front of her, back and forth so she couldn't go around him.

"What's wrong with you?" She snapped, not liking his serious expression or the knowing look in his eyes. "Jed...I'm going to find him, and bring him home. The world is a dangerous place right now."

"Ok...well, I know where he is." It wasn't exactly guilt that was pouring off of him, but more of a responsibility. He rubbed his lips together. "Tea, I almost always know where he is. All you have to do is ask me."

She stepped back, stunned, not sure she heard him right. "Why? Why is that?"

Jed looked every bit of his 25 years, and a few years beyond that. Said in a hushed voice, "'Cause a long time ago, I made it a priority to take care of all of you. I love the guy more than anything, but I've never trusted him. So I watch him. I watch everything he does. I know...everything." He growled the last word. And Tea locked eyes with him.

"You know about..." She didn't want to say more, just in case.

Bending close to her, he whispered, his voice scratchy with damnation, "MK for fuckin' life."

"Jesus...oh Jed." She reached to him, placing her hand on his chest, feeling like he'd hit her. He put his hand on hers.

"You know I visited him there, yeah?"

"No...I had an inkling though."

"Well, I saw how he'd changed. Saw these brief connections in the visitor's room that he never had before. I saw them. Then the new tats. Something wasn't right. So I went to R.J. We learned about MK together through the Jamaicans he knew inside. Since then...I keep up with Pops the best I can. And if I can't, R.J. does, best he can. Todd is good, I'll give him that...he's fuckin' hard to track." He paused, looked around, added, "But I'm better."

For some reason, that frightened Tea for Jed. What he was saying was that he hovered around his father, the MK people, and whoever else...and that...was dangerous.

Jedediah sniffed, "Tea, stay home. I'll do my thing. I'll make sure he gets home."

"Don't talk down to me, Jedediah Chant. If I'm going to stay married to this man, I need to know what the hell I'm dealing with. I need to see him, see him where he LIVES."

A soft, urging voice hit her, "Tea, he's going to be very angry at me if I take you, if he sees you there."

"Either you take me directly, or I search high and low until I find him. George gave me a list. I'll find him."

He scraped his foot on the ground, thinking about it. He eyed her, "I told you where he was, that motel. With Brandy. Do you remember? Do you hate me for that? Finding what you did."

She smiled at him, "Oh Jedediah, no...of course not. I was so grateful that you DID tell me. This has nothing to do with you. Todd is his own..." She sighed. "He is his own disaster." She held his cheek, pulled him into a hug. "I love you."

"You're not staying here, are you?"

In her sweetest, most tender voice, she said to her beloved child of her own beloved husband, "You will have to kill me to stop me."

Well, Tea was always determined. He didn't have much choice if he wanted her to be safe. "Fine," he said. "I'll drive."

And off they went into the darkness, expecting nothing, expecting...everything.

To be continued...