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“Don’t worry.”
“Okay, and when do we get ready for our appointment?”
“Not now. I need to think,” Jeremy answered firmly.
He let himself fall on his bed and covered his head with his hands. He waited a few seconds, hoping to discourage Vladimir from pursuing the conversation. From the hallway came a few dull sounds and more noises that meant it was time to eat.
Jeremy suddenly had the distinct sensation of his body lying there on that bed. He felt the world’s hard edges sweep over him, touching his skin. Only his mind was absent. It floated somewhere in the room, examining his earthly flesh, absorbed in the mystery of his presence in that place.
He thought again of Abraham Chrikovitch. The man had glimpsed an explanation that frightened him. Jeremy went through the ones that came to mind. But he had to stop, depressed by the absurdity of most of his ideas. Yet he somehow knew that he couldn’t find the answer without losing himself in the labyrinth of mysticism. If it was divine punishment, what was the goal? Vengeance? A means to repentance? And what was Jeremy’s true nature? The one in command now or the one that would soon manifest?
They had eaten in silence. Jeremy barely touched his food, and Vladimir gave him a puzzled look before seizing Jeremy’s tray.
“Why aren’t you talking today?” Vladimir suddenly asked.
Jeremy bit into an apple, hoping to let a new silence settle or at least to give himself time to think. This time, however, Vladimir expected an answer. He figured he’d been patient enough. Their tacit conventions dictated that Jeremy speak his mind now.
“You’re really off today,” said Vladimir. “Usually you’re the one who talks all the time. I have a hard time getting any rest because you’re so busy running your mouth. You never stop: the life you had, the one you’re going to have, all the twisted shit you want to do, how you’re going to get out of this hole, what you’re going to do when you do get out, what you’re going to do to your wife, the women you’ll have, the money you’ll make…And today, you got nothing to say. You won’t stop thinking. What’s wrong with you?”
Vladimir’s comment about Victoria made Jeremy start. What did he mean? Was Victoria in harm’s way? Or was it just a manner of speaking? He needed to know.
“It’s my wife,” Jeremy ventured.
“What about your wife?”
“She’s doing her thing.”
“What kind of thing?”
Jeremy waved his hand around vaguely. “Oh, a bunch of shit. She’s really pissing me off. Looks like she’s trying to get me put away for a few more years.”
“Ah, don’t worry. I’ll be out soon, and I swore I’d make her change her mind about getting involved.”
Jeremy felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. Unable to speak, he settled for a slight nod. What else would Victoria have to endure? What was this monster capable of? Hitting her? Raping her? Killing her? He couldn’t take the risk. He had to gain control of himself and do something to protect her. But how? Kill Vladimir? What did he have to lose? What were a few more years of confinement compared to the health and safety of his wife? The choice was easy. But he knew he was physically incapable of doing it.
Then Jeremy had an idea. He had to hurry. In his locker, he found a pen, some paper, and envelopes. Who did he write to on other days?
“What are you doing?” Vladimir asked.
“I’m writing.”
“To your lawyer?”
“Yes,” Jeremy replied. “To my lawyer.”
He wrote two letters. Quickly. By the time he was done, Vladimir had fallen asleep, snoring loudly. Jeremy called to a guard with a sour, impassive face. Jeremy gave the guard one of the letters—the one addressed to Victoria. The guard told him that mail had to be delivered in the morning but took it anyway and put it in his pocket.
“No one’s called for me?”
“Who do you think you are, Delègue? You’re in jail, not at the office. And I’m not your damn secretary.”
“It’s just that I might get a call tonight.”
“Listen, you’re not my buddy. Here, there are two tribes: the guards and the cons. Me, I know what side I’m on. So just be happy I took your letter. As for your phone call, even if there was one, I wouldn’t tell you.”
“Thank you for taking the letter,” Jeremy said in a neutral tone.
The guard, who had probably expected a wise retort, seemed surprised. He muttered a few words and left.
