HARMONY

Part 27 "Locked up."

The house of cards falls apart.

Sitting in the back of the squad car, cuffed, Drew took time to assess his situation. After the brief and scattered conversation he just had with his Uncle Russ, pieces were starting to fall into place. There were no witnesses to the crime. He could never identify the other boys in the room. My god, did I really kill Bruce? Until then he had assumed Bruce was just knocked out, but how did he really know? Bruce was so wasted he could have chocked on his own vomit. Shifting awkwardly in the handcuffs, Drew leaned forward. "Excuse me?"

"What do you want?"

"Can you tell me the status of the other boy involved in the fight?"

"You find out when you face the judge."

"So, the judge will know?"

The cops exchanged glances. "Yes son," the officer said as he looked into the rear view mirror. "If the judge charges you with murder, you'll know he died. Attempted murder, he's not dead."

Drew squirmed in his cuffs. "I didn't try to kill anybody! He was trying to kill me! He had his hands around my throat....I couldn't breathe. I was dying. I was. I was. I had to get him off of me. I just wanted him to let go, and he was choking and choking me and—" He bent his head, and he cried.

"We're here kid," the officer said. The car pulled into the Juvenile Hall intake center. Gates closed. The crushing sound of lost freedom echoed.

"Oh my god," Drew said. "Please don't take me in there. Please. I'm innocent. I am. I didn't do anything. I—"

"Funny, we hear that every time we get in here," said the officer. He led Drew by his cuffed arm into the intake area.

"Where're we going?" Drew tried to wipe dripping tears with his shoulder.

The second officer unlocked the door. Drew dropped to his knees—his chin on his chest. "Please, please. You can't bring me in there. I'm innocent. I'm, I'm..."

Each officer grabbed an arm. "You're going to get searched," said one officer. "If you don't have any drugs or weapons, you'll be evaluated for medical conditions."

"Drugs or weapons?" Drew choked out. He tried to stand.

"After you're stripped searched, you'll be given a blue jumpsuit and a cell."

He fell to his knees again. "When can I make bail?"

"Bail?" One officer got to a knee and looked at Drew. "There is no bail for a juvenile. You're going to be here for a while."

"Like a week?"

"Try six months to a year."

Drew's face went vacant. He felt like he was watching himself from outside his own body. He struggled to think. "Why? Why so long? I didn't do anything."

The clanking of keys opened doors into barren hallways. "Well, you'll get a trial to convince some folks of that. But, courts are pretty busy these days and you'll be making new friends here while you wait for your date." The officer gave Drew's arm a firm tug. "So, get comfortable."