"What do you mean I can't go in?" Lincoln asked angrily as he stood outside the meeting room in the DOC building in downtown Chicago.
William Durst sighed as he brought his hands to his head in frustration.
"Lincoln…I just don't think it's a good idea. OK? Now please…just go home. I will call you as soon as I know anything. I promise."
"No." Lincoln said, shaking his head. "No fuckin' way. Michael's my brother and I have a right to be in there."
"Lincoln! For God's sakes…" Durst began loudly, then quickly stopped when he noticed a young administrative assistant glance at him curiously as she walked by. Grabbing Lincoln by the upper arm, he directed him out of the middle of the hallway before continuing. "You need to listen to me! OK? For once in your life just listen and stop fighting me all the time!"
"I'm going in." Lincoln insisted.
Durst shook his head as Lincoln scowled at him angrily.
"Lincoln, believe me. You don't want to be in there." Durst informed him. "In order for me to make my case for Michael's early release, I'm going to have to bring up a lot of things from Michael's past. Things I'm sure you don't want to hear about or have to relive."
"I can handle it." Lincoln replied, although he no longer sounded as sure of himself.
"I'm sorry Linc. I just can't take that chance. I know you too well."
Lincoln opened his mouth to continue his argument but stopped when he noticed a familiar face ascending the staircase.
"What is he doing here?"
Durst turned in the direction Lincoln was staring and saw Henry Pope walking toward them.
"I asked him to come." Durst replied quickly and quietly to Lincoln as Pope approached. "He's here to help."
Durst turned and started toward Henry, but Lincoln quickly reached out and grabbed his arm.
"Help?" Lincoln repeated skeptically. "Michael betrayed him. What could he possibly have to say about Michael that could help?"
"Lincoln!" Durst said angrily, jerking his arm free. "Just trust me. OK?"
Lincoln scowled again, but said nothing as Durst left his side to approach Henry. Lincoln shoved his hands into his pockets and unwillingly fell into step behind Durst.
"Henry. Thank you for coming." Durst greeted the former Warden cordially and extended his hand to him.
"You're welcome." Pope replied as he shook Durst's hand. "Although I have to admit. I was having second thoughts. I'm still not positive what I have to say will help much."
"That makes two of us." Lincoln muttered under his breath but loud enough that both Durst and Pope turned their attention to him.
"Hello Lincoln." Pope greeted him. "It's been a long time. You're looking well."
"Thanks." Lincoln replied, briefly making eye contact with Pope before turning his attention to down to the floor.
It had been years since Lincoln had last seen Henry Pope and while they each had come to terms with what had happened to them, there was understandably still some tension between them. Not animosity so much…but an uneasiness that was difficult to mask.
"I'm was uh…sorry to hear about what happened to Michael." Pope offered. "I hope he is doing better."
Lincoln nodded but kept his eyes focused on the shiny tiles beneath his feet.
"He's getting there. He'll be even better once he can put this whole mess behind him and get on with his life."
"We all will." Pope replied. "It's what we all need. To move on…It's time."
Lincoln looked up and his eyes met Pope's once again. It was difficult looking into the eyes of a man who had every right and reason to hate you, but for some reason, didn't. Michael had betrayed him and ruined his life to save Lincoln. Yet here he was, five years later, stepping up to save Michael's life.
"We should go in now. They're waiting for us." Durst informed Pope. Then, turning to Lincoln he added. "Go wait with Michael. I'll call you as soon as I know anything."
Lincoln sighed and shook his head.
"I don't want to make Michael any more anxious than he already is."
Durst opened his mouth to object but Lincoln smiled and held up his hand.
"It's OK. I'll wait out here."
"Hang in there kid." Durst said, reaching out and placing a reassuring hand on Lincoln's shoulder." It's almost over."
Durst turned and headed toward the conference room doors with Pope by his side.
"William." Lincoln called out and Durst turned back once again. "I do...trust you. I do."
Durst smiled. He knew how hard that was for Lincoln to say. When it came to Michael's safety and well being…Lincoln trusted no one. He hadn't for a very long time.
FLASHBACK 1987
"What's going on?" 17 year old Lincoln asked, the fear in his voice evident as he took a step back toward the door he just come through.
When Jackson, one of the Counselors at the Cook County Juvenile facility had called Lincoln out of the recreation room that day and told him he was escorting him to a meeting with his social worker, Lincoln hadn't been too alarmed. It wasn't unusual for residents to have meetings with their social workers, assigned counselors or one of the many Doctors on staff. But when Lincoln walked into the meeting room on that summer afternoon, he knew this was not a normal meeting. While it may not have been uncommon to have a meeting with one of the aforementioned staff members, it was highly unusual to find yourself in a room with all of them at once. But that was exactly the situation Lincoln suddenly found himself in.
Not only was Lincoln's social worker, Regina Davis, there, but the staff physician, Dr. Lawson, and the facility Director were present as well.
"It's OK Linc." Jackson said calmly, taking Lincoln's arm and trying to coax him further into the room.
"Bullshit!" Lincoln shot back, jerking his arm free of the man's grasp. "What the hell is this?"
"We just want to talk to you Lincoln." Ms. Davis informed him, "Why don't you take a seat."
"No!" Lincoln spat back. "Not until you tell me what the fuck is going on."
"Watch your mouth Lincoln." The Director warned him.
"Yeah? Why don't you go fuck yourself!" Lincoln suggested.
"Hey! Hey! Easy!" Jackson said, stepping in front of Lincoln and gently placing his hands on Lincoln's shoulder.
"I want to know what's going on?" Lincoln told him.
"And we're going to tell you." Jackson insisted. "But you need to calm down first."
"Is it Michael?" Lincoln asked him and when Jackson didn't immediately respond he turned his attention to Ms. Davis. "Did something happen to Michael?"
"Lincoln, why don't you just relax and…" Ms. Davis began, but Lincoln quickly cut her off.
"Don't tell me to fuckin' relax! I asked you a question. Did something happen to my brother?"
The room fell silent and Lincoln could feel the vomit start to rise in his throat. The seconds on the wall clock seemed to pound in his head like a jackhammer as he waited for what seem like forever for someone to respond. Finally, Dr. Lawson stood up and approached Lincoln.
"Yes Lincoln. Something happened to Michael."
Lincoln gasped and could feel his knees start to buckle as he brought his hands to his face and began to stagger backward.
"Lincoln…listen to me." Jackson instructed, grabbing Lincoln by both arms, holding him upright. "Michael is OK. I promise you. He's OK."
"But he just said…"
"There was an incident with his foster father…but Michael is OK." Jackson informed him.
"What kind of an incident?" Lincoln demanded.
Jackson paused again and Lincoln jerked himself free from his grasp.
"What happened? Just fuckin' tell me!"
"Lincoln… your brother's foster father was murdered two days ago." The Director informed him.
"What?" Lincoln hollered. "Oh my God!"
"They don't know if your brother was there when it happened." The director continued as he got up from his seat and circled the table to get closer to Lincoln. "He can't recall anything that happened the day the murder occurred and he hasn't been able to tell the authorities anything."
"Was he…was he hurt?" Lincoln asked them between choking sobs as he brushed away his tears with the sleeve of his sweatshirt."
"There were bruises and cuts on his face." Ms. Davis explained. "Someone had assaulted him. But…"
"But what?" Lincoln hissed.
The social worker paused and briefly glanced around the room at her colleagues before continuing…
"They don't think it was same person who murdered his foster father. There was other bruising on Michael's body. Older bruises."
"No!" Lincoln said, closing his eye and shaking his head furiously as the tears began to stream down his face once again.
"It appears as though Michael's foster father had been abusing him." The woman concluded.
Lincoln felt his knees start to buckle again and he quickly dropped to his knees, doubling over in agony. He wanted scream, but he couldn't. He couldn't breathe. Hearing that someone had struck his brother even once was bad enough, but to be told Michael had spent the last six months with a man who had been physically abusing him was more than he could bear.
Clearly concerned, Lincoln's social worker stood up, but kept her distance as the as Dr. Lawson rushed forward to assist Jackson who had knelt down beside Lincoln.
"Lincoln…buddy… breathe." Jackson pleaded, wrapping his arms around the anguished boy.
"Relax and take a breath Lincoln." Lawson instructed him, as he too, knelt on the other side of Lincoln "It's going to be OK."
"It's not OK!" Lincoln finally managed to holler, breaking free from Jackson's grasp and jumping to his feet. "It's not OK! He's eleven years old! You people were supposed to be protecting him!"
"Lincoln…we didn't know what was happening." Ms. Davis insisted.
"You should have known you bitch!" Lincoln spat back, pointing a finger at her accusingly as he took a step toward her.
"Lincoln, you need to calm down." Jackson said , stepping between the teenager and his social worker.
"Don't fuckin' tell me what I need to do!" Lincoln shouted again, getting right in his counselors face.
Fearing for Jackson's safety, Dr. Lawson quickly reached out and grabbed Lincoln by the arm.
This only infuriated Lincoln further and before anyone could stop him, he quickly spun around and punched the Doctor in the face with his free hand.
As Lawson fell to the floor, Jackson reacted, tackling Lincoln to the ground. He wrapped his arms tightly around Lincoln upper body, and struggled to hold on as Lincoln thrashed, kicked. and hollered profanities.
"Hold him!" Dr. Lawson instructed, rubbing his aching jaw as he struggled to his feet and made his way across the room to retrieve his bag from the windowsill.
"I'm trying." Jackson insisted as he continued to struggle. "Hurry up!"
"Lincoln! Please stop!" Ms. Davis begged, watching helplessly as Jackson and the Director struggled to control the angry boy. "This is not going to help your brother!"
"Fuck you!" Lincoln shouted as he continued to fight.
"Would you hurry up!" Jackson hollered at the Doctor angrily.
"I got it." Lawson replied, hustling over to the struggling trio with a needle in his hand. "Hold him still."
"No! No!" Lincoln hollered, as Lawson dropped to his knees beside them and tapped at the needle he was about use.
"Just relax Lincoln." he said sympathetically.
"Please! Please! No!" Lincoln begged.
"It's just going to calm you down. You'll feel better. I promise." The doctor informed him as he slowly pressed the needle into Lincoln's upper arm.
The drug began to work almost instantly and Lincoln could feel the energy start to drain from his body. He stopped struggling and the Director sighed in relief…releasing his hold on Lincoln's legs. Jackson, in turn, loosened his grip, but unlike the Director, he didn't let go. Instead, he cradled Lincoln's head in his lap and tried his best to soothe the now sobbing boy.
"Easy buddy. Easy."
"I want to see my brother." Lincoln sobbed. "I want to see Michael."
"You will." Jackson assured him. "You'll see him soon."
To be continued…
TBC
