The Ups and Downs of Being Dead (35 page)

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Authors: M. R. Cornelius

Tags: #Drama, #General

BOOK: The Ups and Downs of Being Dead
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Robbie was still spewing obscenities when the guard came
over to the table to escort him back to his cell.

“Can you believe that son-of-a-bitch?” Robbie said to the
guard. “He stole my fucking money. I need you to find me a lawyer. He’s not
going to get away with this.”

“Your money’s gone?”

“Every motherfucking dime.”

 

Since they weren’t leaving for Argentina until the
twenty-first, Robert went back to the prison alone the next day. A perverted
need, he decided, to see Robbie get his comeuppance. Robert wandered through
the cellblock until he came to Robbie’s.

“Are you kidding?” Robert huffed.

The walls of Robbie’s cell were painted a muted blue.
Pictures hung on the walls. His cot was covered with a satin quilt of blue and
green swirls, and a stripped pillow in matching colors. A small shelf over the
foot of the cot held a television, and on a small desk, Robert saw a computer
and music dock. A silk-covered shoji screen stood at the combined toilet/sink
for privacy. Even the toilet paper looked like it was store bought.

A guard appeared at Robbie’s door. “What you want?”

Robbie handed him a bundle of laundry to go to the cleaners.

“How you gonna pay for this?” the guard asked. “Jim says
you’re out of money.”

“Don’t you worry about how I’m going to pay. You just take
the shirts.”

Robert was disappointed that nothing had changed yet. But he
had plenty of time before he left for Argentina. And he really wanted to see
Robbie’s fall from grace before he boarded that plane.

Instead of spending his days at Audrey’s, Robert hung out at
the prison each day.

Robbie was playing cards with other inmates when the guard
came into his cell with the laundry bundle.

“The woman at the cleaners said she didn’t get paid for the
laundry. I had to pay for this myself. You owe me for that plus my fee to
deliver and pickup.”

Robbie didn’t even look up from the cards in his hand.
“Yeah, yeah. You’ll get it. I got an attorney coming in this afternoon. He’ll
get this all straightened out.”

“He better.” The guard threw the laundry bundle on the bed
and walked out.

As Robbie stood in line for lunch, he stopped a man walking
by. The man had jagged scars on his face; his eyes were slightly squinted, as
though he dared anyone to cross him.

“Hey, asshole,” Robbie said, his hand gripping the man’s
arm. “Where’s my stuff? You said I’d have it by noon today.”

“Cash flow problems,” the man said. Robert noticed that the
man’s front teeth were rotted black.

Robbie snorted. “How can you have cash flow problems, Del?”

“I don’t,” Del said. “You do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, from now on you’re a cash-only customer. And I
need it up-front.”

“You’re full of shit.”

Del cocked up one eyebrow, like he couldn’t believe Robbie
was willing to tangle with him.

That afternoon, when the guard escorted Robbie to his
meeting with the new attorney, he took him to a long narrow room of glass
booths and monitors.

“What the hell is this?” Robbie asked.

“The private meeting rooms are out of your price range,” the
guard said in a dull monotone.

Robbie called him a cocksucker.

And when some young law-school intern told Robbie that the
attorney had decided against taking his case, Robbie jumped out of his chair.

“I wasted my last five hundred dollars for you to tell me
this shit?”

He slammed both palms against the glass barrier and the
intern flinched.

He couldn’t have been gone twenty minutes, but by the time
Robbie got back to his cell, it had been stripped bare. The TV, the pictures, the
quilt, the shoji, even the toilet paper were gone. His clothes had been thrown
on the floor and peed on. Nothing was left but a bare mattress.

At first, Robert thought his son was going to pitch a fit,
and stomp from cell to cell, demanding the return of his stuff. But the
expression on Robbie’s face was different from anything Robert had ever seen
before. It showed panic.

 

* * *

 

Three days later, Rachel—and Robert—were admiring proofs on
an Audrey’s advertising flyer, when she got a call from Briscoe. Robbie had
been beaten again.

“He’s going to try getting drugs that way again?” she asked.

“I don’t think that’s what Robbie had in mind,” Briscoe told
her. “If it is, he underestimated the ferocity of the attack. He’s in Grady
Hospital’s intensive care.”

Even though Rachel had refused to meet with Robbie in
prison, she dropped everything she was doing to rush over to Grady. Robert
didn’t understand her change of heart, but he went along anyway.

Neither of them was prepared for the damage. Rachel cried
out in shock. Robert held back at the doorway, not wanting to get any closer to
the pulverized body that was his son.

A doctor listed Robbie’s injuries as Rachel looked on in
horror. It had taken six stitches to close up the back of Robbie’s head where
he’d been hit with a blunt object, his nose had been broken, possibly in the
fall from the blow to the head.

She sobbed aloud as the doctor described how, during the
attack, Robbie’s eye was literally gouged out of the socket. Those weren’t the
doctor’s words, but that was what had happened.

Robert gasped at the barbarism. If an animal had been abused
to that extent it would have made front page news.

Some of Robbie’s teeth had been knocked out, as evidenced by
the bulging lips that seemed to be the only part of Robbie’s face that wasn’t
bandaged. He’d been bitten so severely that doctors had to stitch down a
hanging flap of skin. Both of Robbie’s hands were in casts, a result of having
each of his fingers broken.

The doctors had also done their best to repair a thigh
muscle that had been slashed from groin to knee.

“Muscle damage like that can have lasting repercussions,”
the doctor said. “We think the person doing the cutting must have known he was
inflicting a lifelong injury.”

He paused, as though the violence involved was more than he
usually saw, even at Grady. Then he continued.

“I’m afraid your brother got caught in some kind of mob
frenzy, and there was no one to stop it. Either he was beaten in some remote
location, or the guards at the prison turned a blind eye, because you brother
was not discovered until this morning.”

Unbelievable. Robert certainly had his differences with
Robbie, but no human being deserved to be treated like that.

The doctor’s voice—or maybe it was Rachel’s moans —roused
Robbie. He groaned weakly. A parched tongue, with a nasty gash along the side,
lolled out of Robbie’s mouth as he tried to lick his cracked lips.

Rachel flew to his side. “Robbie? Can you hear me? It’s
Rachel.”

She touched a small area of his cheek that was not bandaged.
His one good eye rolled erratically until it finally focused on her. Tears
welled and flowed down his temple and onto the pillow.

“Rach?” he managed to grunt.

She nodded, tears rolling down her own cheeks. “Yeah, buddy.
I’m here.”

A mournful wail escaped from deep inside Robbie, like an
animal howling one final breath. His body quaked as he cried.

Gently easing down onto the bed, Rachel laid her head beside
his on the pillow, and hugged her brother. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “I’ll
take care of you.”

“Kill me, Rach,” he sobbed. “Kill me before they do.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
 

10 years later

 
 

Robert and Suzanne lolled in bed, the morning light
streaming in through a window.

“That was fun,” Robert said, “but I’m glad it’s over.”

“Me, too,” Suzanne said with a sigh. “What a relief to make
that last trip to the airport to drop off Raj last night.”

“I can’t believe Rachel and Min made the trip three times in
two days.”

“You’d have made them take a cab,” she said, tweaking his
chin.

“Hey!” Robert feigned indignity. “I would have hired a
driver.”

“Oh, right.”

Min shuffled by their door, scuffing her slippers along the
carpet. No sooner did Robert hear water running in the kitchen for coffee, than
Rachel hobbled by, cinching a robe at her waist.

“We better get scooting,” Suzanne said as she rolled off the
bed. “You don’t want to miss Robbie.”

“No,” Robert guffed. “I wouldn’t want to do that.”

In the kitchen, Min poured two cups of coffee. She slurped a
sip and sighed.

“Why do we always try to do so much over the holidays?” she
asked.

“Because we rarely have all our children together anymore,
and we wanted to make Christmas special.”

“Oh, that’s right.”

Min’s hair was still black as coal, but Rachel had begun
coloring the few gray hairs that appeared a few years back. They belonged to
the same fitness center, and worked out religiously. Both of them looked fit
for women in their fifties. Not that Robert would ever say something like that
out loud.

It had been a wonderful Christmas. All five kids had pitched
in to make cookie dough from scratch, then rolled it out and cut designs. Once
they were baked and decorated, eight-dozen cookies were hand-delivered to eight
different shut-ins.

Rachel had bought the hottest new board game, and Christmas
Eve they all sat around the massive coffee table in front of the fireplace and
played. Over the years, Robert had picked up on the kids’ nuances. Being the
oldest, Hunter always took on the responsibility of reading the directions. And
because Raj and Neeta were twins, and the youngest, they helped each other win.
Kwamee was super smart, and yet Robert didn’t think he’d ever seen him win a
game. Christa cheated. They all knew it, and followed closely to see if they
could catch her at it.

“What are you grinning about?” Suzanne asked.

“I was just thinking about the kids and how much fun they
are to be around. How much fun this whole family is.”

“You sound so surprised.”

Robert relaxed into a chair at the kitchen table. “When I
first talked to the cryonics people, they insisted I make a video to prove I
was of sound mind when I made my decision. One of the things they suggested I
talk about was why I wanted to come back.

“I made up some crap about not being able to see my
grandchildren grow up.”

“Why was that crap?” Suzanne asked.

“Because at the time, all I wanted was a second chance to
meet a woman who would really love me, or at least love having sex with me.” He
chuckled and shook his head. “I wanted to be adored.”

Suzanne touched the tip of his nose. “You are.”

“I know. And I love you very much for that.”

“Who would have thought you’d have to die to get what you
wanted?”

“Yeah,” he said, his mouth tilting to the side. “And all the
stuff I didn’t even know I wanted.”

A weather report came on the television with news of snow in
the Rockies.

“Oh, fresh snow,” Min said. “Hunter will be so pleased.”

“And I’m sure this new girlfriend will think he made it
happen just for her.”

Rachel chuckled as she sat at the table and pulled her
computer from her bathrobe pocket. “You don’t think the kids felt like we were
chasing them off, do you?”

“No,” Min insisted. “They don’t want to spend New Years’ Eve
with us.” She picked up a remote and turned on the television.

Half-joking, Robert said, “You’re sure you don’t want to
ring in the New Year with Angie and Mark?”

“No way,” Suzanne replied. “I’ll catch up with the grandkids
when they get back on campus. That is if Abby even went home. Her animosity
toward Mark gets more ferocious every year.”

“Too bad Angie doesn’t take a few tips from Abby on telling
Mark to shove it,” Robert said.

“Isn’t it?”

Once the weatherman finished his report, the news anchor
introduced a reporter with a story on prison reform.

The reporter, a young woman, stood in front of a sign that
read: Lawrence Correctional Facility.

“Oh, here it is,” Rachel said. “Turn it up.”

“The legalization of marijuana,” the reporter said, “and the
availability of several non-addictive recreational pharmaceuticals, has brought
illegal drug trade nearly to a stop. Smart cars have made drunk driving a thing
of the past. And educational reform, which targets troubled children at a very
early age and intervenes with psychological and sociological support, has truly
altered the demographics of our prison system.

“The number of new incarcerations each year continues to
drop. Today, we take a look at two different prisoners who are serving life
sentences without parole.

“LaDonna Majors, who was convicted for the brutal slaying of
her husband after years of abuse, and Robert Malone Junior, convicted of the
murder of his mother, even though a subsequent trial found his accomplice
guilty of the same murder.”

Robert was surprised that Robbie continued to be big news.
But of course, the Audrey’s Corporation was the draw.

After the commercials, the program continued, with the
reporter and Robbie seated in a small lounge. Everyone in the kitchen groaned
when the camera zoomed in closer to his face. His eye had been stitched closed.

“Why do they have to sensationalize?” Rachel complained.

“You’ve had a rather rocky time in prison,” the reporter
said. “You were involved in several beatings that landed you in the hospital.
An eye gouged out, your leg permanently maimed.”

“I’m a slow learner,” Robbie joked.

“You were issued an artificial eye while you were in the
hospital, but later you refused to wear it. In fact, you asked an inmate to
stitch your eye shut?”

“The artificial eye they gave me was hideous,” Robbie said.
“It looked so unnatural that it drew as much attention as no eye. Maybe more.
One day, a prisoner made a snide remark about it, so I just yanked it out and
threw it away.”

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