UNTIL MONDAY
Angel opened the front door and watched as Steven Murphy trotted on tipped toes out the front door. He was yet another hopeful replacement for Emmanuel that turned out to be a disappointment. He possessed all the material aspects, associated with the term: a good man. He was single, held an established position at a big law firm, owned his living quarters, and drove a nice vehicle. Unfortunately he lacked personality, and through no fault of his own, he was biologically insufficient. He was no comparison to Emmanuel. Angel feigned a smile as she stared at the balding man.
Steven asked, “I know today is your brother-in-law’s funeral, but will you call me tonight when you get home?” He gazed at her with his lips pouted. He was fifty-one, but his behavior reminded her of a 20-year old college student.
“I sure will,” Angel answered, she ignored the over-sized pouted lips and shut the door.
She walked back up her staircase and stopped to gaze over the banister, “Forgive me Lord,” she said, as she stared down into the living room. From where she stood, she could see the bible on the coffee table. She felt like a great sinner. Here she was trying once again to replace Emmanuel and it was taking a spiritual toll. Especially since Marshall, her brother-in-law had just died. It was as if she suddenly realized that life was too short for fighting the ones you love.
With a long sigh she walked back into her room. She dropped onto her bed and stared at the ceiling. That’s when the phone rang. The sound irritated her. She glanced over, figured was it was Steven Murphy calling about something he’d forgotten. But when she noticed Emmanuel’s name had popped up, she jumped up and answered.
“Lovely,” he cried as he usually did when he needed help, “I just got stopped by the police, they’re running my name.”
“Not good Emmanual,” she said.
“I know. They found the shotgun in the back seat,” he said.
Angel inhaled and closed her eyes. Since she had made him leave, he stayed in a world of trouble, it was as if the old Emmanuel, the boy that was in and out of jail, had returned.
“Why were you stopped?
“My windshield cracked--”
“And the gun,” Angel said.
“I went to the range yesterday and didn’t take it out of the car. It’s on the floor in the backseat.”
“Did they see it?
“Yeah, but they didn’t take. They asked if I had a permit and I told them my wife had a permit.”
“Not for that gun, Emmanuel.”
“I know. I know. I’m so stupid without you,” he started in a whine.
As she sat there listening to him vent, she was reminded of the time he was so intoxicated he hit a parked car. She was in the passenger seat, but after he hit the car, they both got out and switched places without saying a word to one another. It turned out the person Emmanuel had hit didn’t speak English and couldn’t explain to the police officer that Angel wasn’t driving. The man became so irate, the police ended up giving him a ticket. They filed a claim with the insurance company and got their car fixed. This is karma, Angel thought as she listened to Emmanuel’s ramble.
When the officer returned, she heard her say to Emmanuel, “When backup arrives, we’ll search the vehicle. Are there any other weapons in the car or anything we should know about?”
“I got weed,” Emmanuel said to the officer. “Lovely, they want to search the car. Isn’t today Marshall’s funeral? I’m going to miss his funeral,” there was anguish in his tone.
“You won’t miss the funeral, I’ll bail you out. Where are you?”
“I’m at Eaton Borough,” He said.
Angel was about to ask, what he’d been doing in Eaton, the town was more than thirty minutes from Beth Aven. But she didn’t bother to ask. “I hope I get there before they take you away.”
“You probably will, this car is from Beth Aven,” he said.
Angel got up and got dressed. Before she left out the door she said a silent prayer, but as she walked down the hall, she fell to her knees, “God, please intervene—if you see fit.”
By the time Angel reached Eaton the sun had just set. Just as Emmanuel stated, he was still there. It was March and the smell of fresh flowers filled the air. Emmanuel’s truck was parked on the edge of a thicket of woods. He was handcuffed and in the back seat of one police car. Two officers stood outside of another police car pulled behind the car with Emmanuel inside. Angel pulled behind the second car.
“I’m his wife,” she said when she got out of her car and approached the officers.
“Your husband is being arrested for possession of a gun, marijuana and drug paraphernalia, he’s a felon and not allowed to carry any type of weapon,” one of the officers replied.
Angel nodded her head and remained calm as she listed, “can I move his truck?”
“Yes, or we’ll have to tow it. He’ll be taken to the Eaton Borough Police Station.”
“I can’t bail him out?”
“You can,” the officer replied, “but better do it soon, he’ll be moved to Beth Aven.”
Angel nodded her head and watched as one police car went in one direction. She stared at the one that had Emmanuel in the back seat. It sped away as if it were going to a crime scene. It was a warm morning, but windy and inside she felt as if the world had turned on her. Nothing mattered at that moment, except Emmanuel. He was probably going to be in a great deal of trouble. She decided to put up his bail and let him come home. Hopefully she could get him out in time for Marshall’s funeral. It was still early 7 a.m., so she had plenty of time. Without wasting another moment. She drove his truck to a nearby supermarket and caught a taxi back to her car. Then she called her sister, Cordelia.
“I’m almost ready,” Cordelia said when she answered the phone.
“Lier, it’s 7 o’clock in the morning.”
“Oh,” Cordelia answered and she laughed through the phone
“Good thing it’s this early because I’m not, ready,” Angel said, “I need a bails bondsman for Emmanuel.”
“Why—what happened?”
“He got locked up for having a gun and marijuana,” Angel said in a somber tone. “I want to bail him out and get to the funeral. Do you know a bails bondsman?”
“Now you know Jersey would know a bail bondsman,” she said, and she laughed, “crazy how our lives are changing.”
“That’s so true. I don’t want to bother Jersey now though,” Angel said.
“I get that, Jonas knows one too—Jonas—Jonas,” Cordelia called and she dropped the phone and then returned, “try this guy, Larry Griffith,” she said and she gave Angel the number.
Angel wrote the number on a sheet of paper, “if I’m not at the church before the service is over, can you let Jersey know why?”
“Yes, I will. Jersey’ll understand—”
“I think I’ll make it, it’s so early,” Angel replied.
“Well even if you don’t, you know how she was when Marshall got arrested, she did everything in her power to bring him home, that’s for sure. So I know she’ll understand.”
“I know,” Angel laughed. “That’s so true. She put it all on the line for him. I think I’m going to let Emmanuel come back home.”
Cordelia hesitated, then she replied, “I think that’s a good idea. He can’t get it together without you. Besides, we all make mistakes and when you love somebody you have to take the good with the bad.”
“That’s so true. Honestly, I don’t even remember everything he did. I got it written down though,” she said with assurance, “ I’ll see you at the funeral one way or another.”
“Call me if you need anything—I have a couple of dollars.”
Angel hung up and called the bail bondsman. There was no answer so she left a message with the details. In no time he called back. He advised her Emmanuel was moved to the county jail in Edom.
“The county? They said he was going to Beth Aven.”
“They’re probably waiting on Beth Aven, but they won’t hold him at that jail, especially since he has priors,” Larry Griffith, replied.
“Yes, I know,” Angel returned.
“His bail is set at $12,000, so it’s going to take $1200 cash to post him out.”
Angel shook her head as she listened, “Okay,” Angel said.
It was 8 o’clock when she spoke with Larry. Angel rushed to the bank and arrived at the county jail with the cash around 8:30am. She hoped the process would go quickly.
Larry Griffith approached her, “Angel Knox,” he replied. He looked so generic, just an average white guy, with a beard and glasses, dressed in jeans and a blue tee-shirt.
“Yes,” Angel said and she followed him inside the jail and took a seat.
He walked to the skewed black glass and said to the circular box in the center, Emmanuel Knox.
The voice behind the box repeated the name and then made a call over a radio.
Larry sat down next to Angel. He explained the process to her of what would happen once he bailed Emmanuel out.
Even though it had been almost twenty-years last Emmanuel was arrested, she knew the process well, but she listened attentively.
“He will have to report once a week and make all his court appearances,” Larry said.
Angel nodded her head. She signed paper after paper and gave up a copy of her pay stub and license. Larry filled out his part, counted the cash Angel handed to him, and took all the forms back to the window. He stuffed them under a small opening at the bottom of the glass. After a few minutes, the voice on the other side of the glass replied, “it’ll be about thirty-minutes. They’re just coming up from breakfast.”
“Thanks,” Larry said, once the papers came back out, he turned to Angel and smiled. “He should be out soon, you can wait from him at the back gates, where they come out when they’re released. I’ll show you where it is.”
Angel followed Larry out of the building, and he pointed her in the direction of the gate. She got into her car and pulled around the back. Parking was only available on the opposite side of the street, so she parked in a space with easy visibility to a green door.
Eaton Borough was a poor district. Opposite the jail was a project. People walked about aimlessly. An older woman stood at the bus stop with a pocketbook around her neck and kids ran around chasing one another. It was 9:00 am at that time and she hoped they would let Emmanuel go by 10. That would give them enough time to get home, shower, dress, and make it to the church before 11:30.
As Angel waited she thought about the last time Emmanuel was in trouble with the law. He was twenty when he had committed his last crime, he shot a man in the bar. She remembered the phone call he made to her, how chilling his voice sounded. The man didn’t die. The shooting was considered self-defense, as he tried to shoot Emmanuel. But Emmanuel still had to serve five years in prison, because they found all kinds of drugs on him, dope, crack, pills and weed. People testified Emmanuel had been a drug dealer. That’s what got him the five years. His friends and family abandoned him. Not one gave money towards bail, or a lawyer. Angel, as poor as she was back then was the only person that didn’t give up on him.
Five years was a relief. He had faced twenty. That time was like a drop in the bucket for Angel. Emmanuel complained the entire time, but Angel knew his whereabouts and didn’t have to worry about him being shot and killed. When he got out, he was different. And it seemed like they had so much time to live and love and grow. Now time was winding up—it was going quick. Too quick! Angel thought, as she watched a group of young boys, emerge from an apartment and walk sluggishly down the street toward the bodega shop on the corner, just like they had all the time in the world. It’s like that when you’re young—you think you have all the time in the world.
Angel looked up at the great big, blue sky and whispered beneath her breath, “please Lord,” she said beneath her breath, “let him go.”
She received a response too, as she sat there it dropped into her spirit, “I will—for now.”
It was then she noticed the green door open in the distance. She noticed a figure emerge and although the figure was out of view, she could tell it was Emmanuel. She was certain when he came into fuller view, she recognized his red sweatshirt and his black vest.
She got out of the car and waved her hands, the same way she did when she was that twenty-five-year-old girl, who waited for her lover. He was thirty back then—now he was fifty-two. When Emmanuel noticed her, his smile beamed with relief, like the sun that beams after a storm. When he crossed over, Angel grabbed hold of him and hugged him.
“Lovely,” he said, he got in the passenger seat with a bunch of paperwork in his hand, “I’m facing some time with this one.”
Angel hesitated and then she said, “let’s go home and get dressed for the funeral, all that can wait—
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