Exit from the Land of Nod

One

It's six-thirty on Christmas Eve, in the middle of a No'Eastern blizzard. I'm sitting on a cold steel chair, at a cold steel table, surrounded by drab white cinderblock walls with my hands clamped inside cold steel handcuffs, while my best friend, my BBFF, is dying in a hospital not more than three blocks away. I'm wondering, how can what I did for my best friend's last wish be all that bad? Where did it all go wrong?

I refuse to lay my head down, and I jiggle my legs and rub my elbows behind me to stave the cold that is creeping through my clothes from the sad melting snowflakes. I've seen enough TV shows and movies to know that the people behind the one-way mirror are waiting to see any signs of guilt from me for what I did over the past three days. I would not give them any fodder to discuss.

Leaning back in the cold chair, stretching my legs out nonchalantly in defiance, I close my eyes and remember the last words Katie said to me before they rolled her into the emergency room.

I had leaned down to peer into her bright green eyes and a warm flush of hope spread through me as she struggled to focus on my face. Her chin moved slowly as her words tried to come out. They weren't clearly audible to anyone else in the room, but I understood immediately. As she gripped my hand and looked at me with soft determined eyes, she had simply said, "Thank you." before my arms were abruptly pulled behind me, and the cold metal steel clamped around my wrists

I kept looking at Katie as they wheeled her into the emergency room, and just as I turned away, I saw her lift her index finger up and down. I blinked back my tears and smiled. She was waving thank you. Before the doors closed behind them, I tried to call out to my brother; but his look jabbed at my heart, and I knew now was not the time for any words. At all.

I jutted my chin out, glanced at the grimy clock on the wall and leaned back more comfortably in the chair. I refuse to show any anxiety as I watch the people through the glass window in the door, discussing the events they thought they knew that brought me here.

I am exhausted, but I will not sleep. I sit straight up, stretch my arms behind me, and flex my fingers. I had never ever worn handcuffs. I wondered if I could just slip my hands right out of the clamps. I could hold them up to the window so maybe someone would come to the room.

No, that would be wrong. That would be criminal. Instead of laughing and getting the joke, I could be charged with trying to escape. I exhale a drawn-out sigh, trying to quell the rising anxiety.

Right now, I feel angry.

Justifiable anger.

I close my eyes, trying to block out the voices I hear outside that door. I convince myself that I don't care how long it takes, or what the charges are. I only want to be three blocks away at the side of my sister-in-law, whom from the moment I met her over forty years ago, was my best friend. We knew each other's secrets. We understood each other's heart.

I hope when my brother hears everything, he won't be so upset and angry at what we, truthfully I, chose to do. Right now, as I did several days ago, I rationalized it all. After seeing Katie's eyes, and her words, and her wave I knew that if she asked, I would do it all over again. We had a wonderful time, except when the young lady jumped into the back seat of my car to hide while I was fighting off a car-jacker at a gas station just outside our final destination.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. In the end, I would do it all over again.

I know that kind of thinking will be my downfall.