Daddy's Release – Coming Home

“Tomorrow?!”

“Yes, tomorrow Sweetie.”

“But. Tomorrow!?” I repeated incredulously, refusing to believe what I was hearing.

“I keep sayin’ it. Tomorrow Emmylou. Now go finish preparin’ your room.”

“But Ma, I thought you said Daddy was locked away forever. Never comin’ outa jail for the rest of his life!”

“Well I was wrong Sweetie. This here letter says nine am tomorrow. Collect from Florida Maximum Security Visitor Center. Here, read it.”

I couldn’t believe it! My Daddy was coming out of jail. I’d never even met him before but I was so excited that I could feel tingles through my skin and butterflies in my tummy. I looked around our little house and one by one set my eyes upon the photographs of my Daddy that adorned the walls. The photos were all old, faded and they’d been in place for as long as I could remember. The images all depicted him alone, or standing alongside my Ma when they were young. She looked beautiful with her long brown hair, and Daddy stood proud with his tanned skin, strong body, dark mane and broad grin.

I could hardly contain myself but I followed Ma’s orders and turned to the store room which would become my room when Daddy moved into Ma’s bed. It was a tiny room that barely accommodated a single mattress, but at least it was a roof over my head. We didn’t have much money, but we had family, and family always sticks together.

That night I went to bed beside Ma for the last time. Daddy would be back tomorrow and he’d take his rightful place in the master bed with Momma. I squirmed between the sheets, so excited that at last I’d meet him and have him home with us.

But I could not sleep – how could I possibly fall asleep on the eve of such a momentous event! Momma snored beside me in her usual way after a bottle of Jack. But not me. After all this time I’d finally be with my Daddy. I pictured the reunion – our car pulling up in the driveway, Momma and Daddy bursting out. I imagined Nan and me waiting at the front door of our house, and then Daddy rushing toward us. I imagined his strong arms wrapped around me and my body crushed into his.

I’d had boyfriends and been on dates, but nothing would compare to my Daddy. Ever since I was young I’d been waiting for Daddy to come home, against all hope of a jail sentence that Ma said would extend indefinitely. It had been nineteen long years so far but I’d written to him every week of my life. No mail came in return – Momma told me that nothing ever comes back from a Supermax, but I knew he’d be thinking of me too. I wondered how he would be feeling on the brink of his release, and I squirmed again.

At some point during the night I must have succumbed to sIeep, but I don’t remember the moment. In the morning Ma was already up and awake in her dishevelled nightie, sitting at the kitchen table, cigarette loosely hanging from her mouth looking like death warmed up. She hacked the cough of a long-time smoker, but with an even worse sputter that betrayed a throat of phlegm and a nose blocked with mucus.

“What’s wrong Momma?” I asked. A small box and test kit littered the table in front of her.

“I got the virus,” she stated matter-of-factly in a croaky voice. Then her emotion leaked as she sighed, “I can’t go. You gonna have to do it. You gotta get Daddy.”

“But maybe I got I the virus too!” I fretted.

Momma passed me a sealed test kit. “Best stay away from me Sweetie ’til we’re sure.” Her index finger slid the instructions across the table and I backed away to the kitchen counter, administered the test on myself and waited the 15 minutes for the result. Negative. Phew.

“Well Sweetie, there’s the car keys. And here’s some cash – find a cheap motel and you can stay for the week of isolation. Then bring him straight home. I’m waitin’ for him. Now hurry girl – he don’t need to stay inside for any longer than necessary.”

I rushed to my tiny new room and rummaged through my pile of clothes on the floor, finding a pair of fresh panties and slipping on a floral missy dress. I blew kisses to Ma on my way out the door, yelled ‘bye to Nan and bounced across the front porch to our old Camry parked out on the street.

Dawn had only just broken but already the day was hot with a cruel sun beating down on the green Florida flats and the air soaking up moisture from the swampy landscape. Under an hour’s drive and I was there.

I pulled into the Visitor Center carpark and looked through the windshield at the monstrosity ahead of me. Bleak concrete buildings wrapped in fences of razor wire. Warning signs plastered everywhere. Crawling with uniformed officers. We’d driven by the Supermax before, but never gone in. Never even for a visit. I’d heard people talk about the legend of the Supermax before, and I’d seen documentaries on TV, but I didn’t really know what Daddy’s life would be like on the inside. Soon he’d be out and tell me all about it. Or maybe he wouldn’t. My emotions were all mixed up wondering what our first encounter would be like.

I was a little early, but I stepped out of the rusty car and found my way through the entrance maze to the reception at the Visitor Center and signed in. And waited. And waited. Eventually a fat lady in corrective services uniform called my name and I went up to the shielded counter.

“Test result?” she asked.

“What test?”

“You gotta have a negative test result to the virus to come in.”

Fuck. The receptionist was harsh, but helpful and directed me to a room with virus test kits and I administered a test myself. A half hour later, I made my way up to the counter and showed her the negative test result.

“OK. Now whatcha here for, Miss?” she asked.

“I’m collecting my Daddy.”

“Name?”

“Bobba Harris.”

“Right,” she said, consulting a mound of paperwork on the counter behind the shield. “Says here he’s being released today.”

“That’s right!” I said excitedly.

She asked me a bunch of questions about “a safe place to stay”, “vouch for something”, “responsibility for something else”. I was so excited that I couldn’t really take it in and just answered yes to everything and I signed a piece of paper offered to me.

“Just take a seat. He’ll be going through processing. It might take a while.”

She directed me to a separate waiting room where I was the only one. I waited. And waited. And waited. The letter might have said 9 am, but that was a lie. I went up to the counter a few times, but they couldn’t tell me anything new. Just “Wait.”

Eventually, at 3 pm, there was movement behind the counter. The phone rang and the lady talked in a serious voice, reached below and the door buzzed and opened.

Standing there was my Daddy. Just like the photos. He was wearing a tee shirt, shorts and slides and was clutching a small bag to his chest. His hair was greyer. He was thinner but fitter. Goddam! How could a man in 40s be so dam fit! His cute round puppy dog eyes were replaced with darker slits. His lips were thinner but conveyed a tiny smile. His skin was paler than the photos and myriad tattoos were plastered over his body.

“Pammy, is that really you?” he looked at me with squinting eyes – was it suspicion or non-believing?

“No Daddy. It’s me. Emmylou!”

His face broke out into a smile. “Holy shit!! Fuck girl you look just like your Ma!”

“Do you think?”

“You look just like I remember her. Now where is she?”

I couldn’t break the news straight away. He’d been through enough. “C’mon Daddy. I’ll tell you on the way. Let’s go!”

The two burly corrective officers on each side of Daddy stepped back, and I held out my hand to lead him back to the car. He ambled along in my wake while I skipped ahead, trying to drag him along faster to the car. Daddy was out! I couldn’t believe it! The smile on my face was immovable and I thought my heart would burst.

We travelled the length of the carpark on foot. The sky was becoming dark with clouds and the air was thick with that famous Florida humidity. “This is our car,” I announced as we approached the Camry, and I entered the driver’s door while Daddy folded himself into the passenger seat, clutching his bag.

I inserted the key into the ignition and started up the car. My pop music blared from the CD player and Daddy flinched. “Oh sorry Daddy.”

“What was that?”

“That’s just my music Daddy. What do you want. Let’s play your music.”

“Its OK,” he said calmly. “Quiet is good.”

“Sure Daddy,” I bubbled back, “Whatever Daddy wants!” I reached over, planted a hand on his thigh, and looked him in the eyes. “I’m so excited that you’re coming home Daddy.”

“Me too Baby.”

I backed the car out and headed along the road back towards civilisation. Daddy retrieved a cigarette from his bag and balanced it on his bottom lip. He scanned the car’s dash for an inbuilt lighter, but abandoned the search with a “Hmfff,” and instead retrieved a zippo from his bag. He blew a plume of smoke out of the window.

“I thought you was in forever Daddy.”

“It felt like forever. Nineteen years.”

“Did they let you out early Daddy?”

“Nope. I done my full term.”

“So are you on parole now?” I asked.

“No Siree,” he shook his head. “I’m a free man. Time is served.”

I saw a flash of distant lightning out of the corner of my eye as a storm swirled on the horizon, and it prompted the bad news that I had to convey.

“Daddy, I got some bad news. Momma’s got the virus.”

“Yeah, I heard its goin’ around. Not a problem. I had it in prison.”

“So we can’t go home yet Daddy.”

I’d known him for less than an hour but already Daddy burst into the rage that Nan had warned me about. His face darkened, his fingers clenched and the tone of his voice became scary. “Whatcha mean we can’t go home. I’m a free man. This is a free country. I been without my wife for 19 years. She got the virus, I had the virus, now lets go home.”

“We can’t Daddy. Its the law now. Momma’s given me money to stay away. We can go back later. If you go home its against the law. Daddy, they’ll arrest you. Daddy you can’t go back to jail!”

“Bullshit,” said Daddy at the same time as an enormous thunderclap struck my ears and jolted the car. The heavens opened immediately and torrents of rain crashed across the windscreen, coming so fast that I could not even see the road.