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Chapter 94
On the way home we made a detour. More of an entirely separate trip. We visited Niagara Falls. Both sides of it. We stayed in a nice hotel that had a Ripley’s Believe It or Not museum just outside the front entrance.
And we did all the tourist stuff. Took the Maid of the Mist tour, stood under the Horseshoe Falls, and ate tough prime rib at a rotating restaurant on top of a tower. It was wonderful. The kind of thing we didn’t do too often.
The next day we left early for our real destination.
The Gowanda Correctional Facility.
This visit wasn’t quite as startling as the first one. We knew to expect bars and barbed wire and guards and guns. We took it in as we drove up along the access road.
Once again we were able to visit Brian and sit across a glass partition from him with a corrections officer standing in the corner of the room.
Brian looked tired. He had a hint of a fading black eye. His hair was buzzed short, like that of most prisoners. It was easier to take care of that way. And it broke my heart.
I sat while everyone filed in two at a time.
Mary Catherine and I shared our good news. Brian tried to be excited. It was clear he had other things on his mind.
The boys kidded with him, as boys do. Ricky asked about sports on the inside.
Brian said, “I play basketball and soccer twice a week.”
“What about baseball?”
“No. They don’t want us to have bats. We can’t even have cleats on our shoes. We play everything in these.” He raised his foot to show off a cheap Keds knockoff.
Ricky and Eddie seemed fascinated that someone could play a sport without proper equipment.
Later Fiona listened as Brian explained the crafts projects that were available.
He said, “The idea is to keep us occupied and see if we have a particular talent. Two guys got out and became printers. Another works in Albany as an auto-body mechanic. He writes us to show how well things are going.”
As I listened, I recalled thinking a few years ago that Brian would have his choice of colleges. Maybe on scholarship. Now I just wanted him back home. Free. Part of society. It was humbling to have my expectations lowered so drastically.
It also made me think about Diego, the teenage hit man. He’d never have a chance to have any kind of life. And I still couldn’t help but feel like it was my fault. If I had gone by the book, maybe I’d have avoided the gunfight in the library.
On the other hand, Diego might have murdered someone else. Doing the right thing was never easy. Sometimes it wasn’t even necessarily clear what the right thing is.
When all the kids were done visiting, Seamus huddled with Brian. They had always been close, and Seamus was clearly passing on advice and wisdom. But it was not something he wanted me to hear. I understood that.
Finally I was alone with Brian for a few minutes. It felt weird. Awkward. Which was different for us. We’d always had an open and easy bond. It hurt to feel like a void had opened between us. I hoped we could rebuild that bond.
Brian asked me about the trip. He’d seen something in the newspaper about the little town in Maine. Bodies, drugs, and kids were something the media couldn’t pass up. There were too many elements to sensationalize and too many subjects to explore and fill space with.
I filled him in on what had actually happened. It wasn’t as interesting, but at least he knew the truth. After what he’d seen back home and the people he’d dealt with, nothing surprised him. Drug dealers were everywhere, and most people had no idea how ruthless they were.
I didn’t know whether they were ruthless because being in the business changed them or whether they were willing to do that kind of thing because they were ruthless in the first place.
Brian looked serious as he leaned in close to the speaker built into the partition. “Dad, I need to tell you something.”
I leaned in, too.
He said, “I think there’s a big problem coming to New York City.”
“What kind of problem?”
“I didn’t talk about the people I worked for because I was afraid for the family’s safety, but now it seems like someone might get hurt no matter what.”
