Brother from another mother

I'll be there for you

It was the warden who told him. At two fifty-two, he interrupted a call with the District Attorney's office— "Danbury Prison," it said on the screen of Harvey's cell phone. If the DA ever calls him back to follow up, Harvey will blame it on a dropped connection. Not that he expects them to go to that much trouble, but all the same, it's best to be prepared.

"I don't know what happened," most people will believe that about most things.

The drive out to Danbury takes an hour and a half, in good traffic. Fifty minutes if you're in a rush and there aren't any traffic cops around. With the warden waiting to meet him at the gate, the whole mess of it hardly takes any time at all, end to end.

Actually, the circumstances matter very little.

The light in the infirmary is too bright in places and not bright enough in others, an arbitrary mix of spotlights and flickering bulbs. The chair Harvey sits on is cheap, cold and flimsy, too thin and too hard. Conditions are terrible.

He'll sit here forever, if they'll let him.

The heart monitor beeps its steady rhythm, piercing in his right ear, a dim echo in his left. This is the only sound in the whole of the universe. No, that's not true; it's not even the only sound in this room, nurses slamming drawers and downing aspirin and lighting cigarettes. Harvey closes his eyes as hard as he can and wishes them all away; when he opens them again, it's easier to pretend that everything is silence.

That was sort of a stupid thing to waste a wish on, if you think about it.

"How about it?" he asks. "You got any better ideas?"

Mike doesn't answer. All things considered, he doesn't really have to.

Harvey sighs.

"They usually don't let visitors in here," he says. "To the infirmary. But, you know. The warden, he knows how to play ball."

This is the world we live in, you and I. This is the world we've chosen, all of this push and pull, this for that, quid pro quo.

Harvey sighs.

"He told me they put Gallo in solitary," he says. "I guess it doesn't matter now, but, you know. If you were wondering. I'm not sure how long he'll stay there, but we'll have you out of here before then. I'm talking to some people from the DA's, we're, we're working on it. Putting some deals together."

Try not to think too hard about all of this, this weighing of one life against another. This valuation of human misery. Do yourself a favor, don't even bother.

Everything's going to be all right in the end.

"You ever think about how all this started?" he asks. "Way back when, way back... You remember the hotel room, that day? What kind of... What kind of totally random shit can turn a person's life around."

It's probably best not to dwell on those sorts of things, those things in the past. Those things it's much too late to change, to do anything about.

But isn't it a wonder?

"I thought I was being so clever," he says. "Doing what I had to do in a way no one would've wanted me to do it. I thought it was the best idea I'd ever had, I thought it was the best thing I could've done."

What about you? I thought you liked it too, back then. You said you did.

It's okay if you want to change your mind.

"Best thing I could've done," he says. "It's funny, you know, now I think it's probably the worst thing I ever did. You look at everything that's happened, look at where we are now, and it's gotta be, right? How could things have gone more wrong than this."

The air smells of Bactine and lemon Lysol, standing water and festering mold. Harvey reaches out to touch the edge of the bed, the stiff blanket not really thick enough to accomplish much of anything. It's a nice touch, though, a nice little piece of window dressing.

Don't look at anything too close up, and we'll all get along just fine.

"It's my fault," he says. "All of this. It is. I— I know what you're going to say, that you're the one who broke into the interviews, that you're the one who took the deal, but come on, Mike, we both know none of this would've happened if it wasn't for me. If I hadn't thought I was such hot shit, if I hadn't dragged you into all of this."

We could fight about it forever and ever, if you'd like, and never come to terms. You'd never back down, and neither would I. Wouldn't you like to see that? Wouldn't you like to give that a try?

"Who knows," he says. "Who knows what'll happen next, when you really think about it. Maybe we'll come out the other side of this and everything will turn out just fine. Maybe we'll fix all of it, maybe everything is going to fall right into place. Maybe this is one of those things we just have to live through, until we can make it out the other side and see that it wasn't so bad after all."

Won't we think this is all very funny? Won't we tell each other this story we remember and laugh at how silly we all were?

Well. Sometimes a tragedy is just a tragedy, and all you can do is survive until it's over.

Harvey sighs.

"You gotta get out of this, Mike," he says. "You gotta pull through. I'll fix everything, I'll get you out of here, but you... I need you to do something for me, I need— This can't be the end. Not for you, not like this."

You've already made it through so much. Turn around and look back for a minute, see how far you've come? See all the things you've done? One more of those, that's all this is. Just another box to check, another line to cross off the list.

If you believe that, maybe I can, too.

"I love you," he says. "I do."

You know it, don't you? Tell me you do.

Harvey reaches out to grasp Mike's hand, waiting to be told to stop, step back, sir, now you've crossed the line, now you've gone too far. Hands off the glass.

Nobody says a word.

Isn't that for the best? Isn't that what you wanted?

Doesn't anybody care at all?

Harvey holds on tight.

"I'm sorry I never told you before," he says. "I'm sorry I'm telling you now. But if it helps, if it helps you to hear this, that there's someone here who loves you, who wants to help you, then— I, I do. I'm here. And when you wake up, I'll tell you again, right to your face, and we can start over, you and me. However you want."

Haven't we mastered this balancing act by now, you and I? We've been practicing for so long, and here we are at the final curtain. Don't worry, don't panic; I understand if you want to take your time. I can wait, as long as you need. There's so much left here for you still to do. Still so many things left to see, to hear, to come to know.

A knock sounds at the door; is it for you? Someone come by to say hello?

The warden stands there, off in the distance, not too far away. All right, then; I understand. Thank you for all you've done.

Harvey squeezes Mike's hand again and lets it go.

"I'll get you out of here," he says. "I promise."

We'll keep going, you and I, fighting, fighting until we can't anymore. Until we find the end, however it comes to us, whatever it is. No matter where, no matter when.

I'll be there for you.