PRESENT TENSE
Chapter Eighty-Eight
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Robert Presley Detention Center
Riverside, California
Jack walked slowly into the lobby of the
Robert Presley Detention Center, Lizzy toddling along beside him. Rose had
called him half an hour earlier to tell him that she had been released and
needed to be picked up.
Rose was sitting in the lobby, thumbing idly
through an ancient magazine, when he arrived, looking none the worse for her
night in jail. She hadn’t told him why she’d been released, or exactly what had
happened, promising to tell him when she didn’t have an audience.
She looked up as he came in, setting the
magazine aside. Leaping to her feet, she ran to him and hugged him, then
scooped Lizzy up and swung her around.
"Mommy!" The little girl giggled in
delight. She’d been very worried when her mother hadn’t come home the night
before, even after her father had explained to her that Rose had gotten into
some trouble and was doing a grown-up’s time out.
"Lizzy!" Rose gave her a hug, then
set her down. "It’s about time you got here," she told Jack. "I
was about ready to start walking. After all, UCR is only a couple of miles
away, and I’ve walked so much since we’ve been there that it would be a piece
of cake. But I didn’t want to worry you by disappearing. Besides, Mari told me
that they were going to release her this morning, too, so I was waiting for
her."
"Well, we’re glad to have you back. What
happened, by the way? Did someone bail you out? Do you have to show up in
court?"
Rose shook her head. "They let me out
because I’m not being charged with anything. The cop who arrested me is in
trouble for doing so. It seems that he’s repeatedly arrested people who are not
committing crimes and are not suspected of committing crimes—mainly people who
happen to annoy some bigwig. But I think he’s done it one time too many."
"And what about Mari?"
"You were right. She’s only being
charged with misdemeanors. She has to be in court tomorrow, but she shouldn’t
be in too much trouble—she’ll probably just get a few days in jail or community
service."
"And when did you get to be a legal
expert?"
Rose shrugged, then grinned. "One of my
cellmates was a hooker. She’s been arrested several times, so she knows a lot
about how these things work."
"You do meet some interesting people,
Rose."
"Hey, I’m not the only jailbird around
here." She looked at him significantly.
Jack nodded, conceding her point. "So,
how was your night in jail?"
"Well...I’ve had more pleasant
experiences...but I survived. I…um…I tried to start a new protest, over the
fact that minorities and the poor tend to get harsher sentences for the same
crimes and are arrested more often than those who happen to be rich and white,
and also speaking out against filling the prisons with people who haven’t
actually harmed anyone." She paused, looking a bit guilty. "It didn’t
work so well. I thought it was a good idea, and so did my cellmates—they were
the ones who gave me the idea in the first place—but the guards were afraid
they’d have a riot on their hands, so they shut it down pretty fast and
separated me from the others. I wound up in a cell by myself where I couldn’t
start anything." She looked up at him. "I’m still not sorry, though,
about anything except that the demonstration at Raincross Square got out of
hand."
"Your demonstration, out of control or
not, may have helped, believe it or not. There was an article about it on the
front page of the newspaper this morning, and then there was a smaller article
saying that the plans to develop the hills behind UCR have been canceled."
"Really?" Rose’s eyes lit up.
"Then there is a point to speaking out!"
"It may have been just the push that was
needed. Then again," Jack cautioned her, “it may have been something else
that made the developers and city council people change their minds, but I
think the newspaper supported the decision. In spite of their claims of
unbiased reporting, the Press-Enterprise doesn’t hide the opinions of its
editors well.”
Rose grabbed his hands, whirling him around.
"This is great! Even if the protest wasn’t the reason why things were
decided for the better, it’s still wonderful news." She picked Lizzy up.
"Isn’t it, Busy Lizzy?"
Lizzy just stared at her, not sure what was
going on or what her mother was so excited about. She put a finger in her
mouth, then giggled as her mother danced around with her.
Rose handed Lizzy to Jack. "I’m going to
find out if Mari is going to be released any time soon. Then we can go."
She walked up to the window separating several jail employees from the lobby.
"Can I help you?" The man at the
desk looked at her strangely, wondering if she’d managed to obtain some illegal
substance in jail. Rose’s antics were unusual, to say the least.
"Mari Lopez is supposed to be released
this morning. Do you know when she’ll be out?"
The man stared at her, not sure how to answer
the question. "I’m not sure I can give you that information," he told
her. "Let me ask my supervisor."
Rose tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for
him to come back. When he returned, she leaned on the desk. "Well?"
"We don’t know when she’ll be released.
Her immigration status is being checked."
Rose gave him a confused look. "Her
immigration status? Why do you need to check that? She was born in this city."
"Until we can get those records—and that
can take some time, bureaucracy being what is—she’ll have to stay here. We need
to make sure she isn’t here illegally."
"Mari’s not an immigrant. She was born in
Riverside!"
"We have to check."
"Then why aren’t you checking my
background, then? I might be an illegal immigrant."
"There’s no indication that you’re not
an American."
"Why? Because I’m white and have the
last name of Dawson? My maiden name was DeWitt-Bukater—quite a mouthful. How do
you know I’m not here illegally?"
The man sighed, annoyed. "We’re
psychic."
Rose stared at him, her mouth twisting in
contempt. "Bullshit!"
"Besides, your husband is American—I’m
assuming the man over there is your husband?"
Rose nodded, but didn’t give up. "He’s
from Wisconsin—up near another foreign country, Canada. How do you know he’s
not Canadian?"
"Because, if what you say is true, he’s
from Wisconsin, which is in the United States. Now, get out of here."
"Well, if you believe me about him, why
don’t you believe me about Mari?"
"Look, lady—"
"It’s because her last name is Lopez,
isn’t it? A Hispanic name—which you assume means she’s an illegal immigrant
from Mexico—even though she was born in Riverside."
"Look, I don’t have anything to do with
it. It’s the judge’s call, not mine. Now—"
"If I bring a copy of her birth
certificate from the county, will you let her out?"
"No."
"Well, then, if you’re going to violate
her rights as an American citizen, you’ll have to violate mine, too. I’m going
back in."
She strode to the door leading to the area
where visitors could talk to inmates, only to find it locked. Yelling, she
banged on the door, demanding to be let in.
"Rose!" Jack called, setting Lizzy
in a chair and hurrying after her. "Stop! Do you want to get into more
trouble?"
A guard from the lobby took hold of her arm.
"You’re being released from jail, and that’s final. You’ve caused enough
trouble already."
"No!" Rose yanked her arm away,
heading for the door again.
Jack was about to stop her when the guard
shouted at him, "She’s your wife! Call her off!"
At that, he stepped back. Call Rose off? Even
if he wanted to, he couldn’t. She was his wife, not his dog—and she had a mind
of her own. He wasn’t about to try to stop her.
The guard had pinned her arms to her side.
Even as she kicked and shouted furiously, he picked her up and carried her
toward the door.
"Put me down! Put me down right now! You’re
not supposed to touch me!"
"You’re right." He set her down at
the door, opened it, and shoved her through. "I don’t want to see you back
in here!" He slammed the door behind her.
Jack waited a moment, not sure if Rose would
come bursting through the door again, then followed her out. She was stalking
across the parking lot toward the car, her posture giving away her fury.
"Rose..." He caught up to her,
Lizzy balanced on his hip.
Rose just stomped around to the passenger
side of the car. "That sanctimonious son of a bitch!"
Jack knew better than to argue with her when
she was in this mood. Unlocking the doors, he buckled Lizzy into her seat and
got into the car, giving Rose a chance to calm down.
But at the sight of her mutinous, scowling
face, her lower lip stuck out comically, he couldn’t help it. He started
laughing, inciting more ire from Rose.
"What’s so funny?" she demanded,
glowering at him.
"I’m sorry, Rose, but that scene in
there..." He clapped a hand over his mouth, trying to stop laughing, to no
avail. "I’ve never seen anyone so determined to go back to jail
before."
"They’re violating Mari’s rights. She is
a citizen. Some of her ancestors have streets named after them!"
Jack finally stopped laughing. "Be that
as it may, you won’t help her by breaking into jail. That will just cause more
trouble. Trust me on this."
"They won’t even let me help clear her
name! I could get her birth certificate from the county records and bring it
in, but no. They want her to sit in jail while they fight through the red
tape! And here you sit, laughing about it!"
"That’s not what I was laughing at. You
looked so funny—"
"Don’t tell me how funny I look! I’m
trying to do the right thing here!"
"Look, Rose, I know you’re trying to
help. And you’re right. There’s plenty of proof that Mari is an American
citizen—and it shouldn’t be that hard to find. Driver’s license, social security
number, university records, birth certificate...all of those. But staying in
jail won’t help. You can probably do more good out here by finding out why this
happens."
"Save me the ‘I know more about jail
than you’ spiel, Jack. I don’t want to hear it right now. Let’s just go back to
the college, okay?"
"Fine." Jack sighed, pulling out of
the parking lot and turning back toward University Avenue. They drove back to
the university in silence.