Intertwined

Jailbird

Bradley walks his blanket, sheets and outdoor shoes along the metal corridor. He feels a jab t his side while walking as best as his chained feet allow. He hears the clanking and hollering of his cell block mates greeting and mocking his arrival. They blow him kisses and laugh and spit. "Hangover, you're mine!"

"332. That's your number. Try and keep your things, we'll only replace dirty or worn items. You get three meals a day. I ain't you mama, it's up to you to eat it."

"What about phone calls? I have to talk to my lawyer and my-"

"Phones are that way. There are some pretty possessive inmates that have claimed their spot at the phones so best to make friends quick. Lights out at 9. Sweet dreams, Silver Lining."

Gaga stared at her father. Joe crossed his arms and sat back in his chair staring his daughter down. Gaga crossed her arms and continued to stare until Cynthia walked in the room. "Oh Joe, stop being dramatic. Call up Little Tony."

"Yea, Joe, call up Little Tony." Gaga  mimicked.

"Knock it off. Look, loops, if I ask for a favor they're going to ask one of me. I have you guys and the restaurants and I can't get mixed up with these people. Not again."

"Dad, I'm not asking for you to kill anyone, I'm just asking for help. I don't know what else do to." Gaga closed her eyes feeling like she was getting nowhere. She loved closing her eyes while she was awake, she could see his face so clearly. When she closed them at night, she didn't get the same image. 

"This one's different, huh? You really like this one? A lot?" She opened her eyes and nodded. Her father never asked her about her love life. Both of their answers were honest. "Yea, me too." 

Cynthia rubbed Joe's back. "Now that I think of it, you wouldn't owe him anything because actually Little Tony owes me a favor." Not a minute later was Cynthia hanging up the phone. "We'll hear back from him soon. In the mean time, Stefani dear, I need you to be patient, maybe look into another source."

"Well, what is he going to do? How are we getting Bradley out? What does 'tell your mother hello', really mean? I heard that much, just tell me!"

"Oh God, you watch too many movies. I truly wanted him to tell his mother I said hello. And we aren't busting Bradley out. Little Tony is simply asking around to see if he knows anything. Patience."

"So, big shot, looks like you're a long ways from home." A man approached Bradley as he push around his sorry excuse of a meal. Bradley kept his head down. "Look a me when I'm talking to you boy!" Bradley was tall and strong but his worry was he was out numbered. He reluctantly looked into the man's dead eyes. "I saw you come in with some new boots. My birthday just passed and I don't recall getting a gift from you." Bradley stood up and threw his plate away. Before he had a chance to leave he was pulled back, the man punched him square in the face, making sure the guards were looking away. "I'll be by later for my gift, pretty boy." With that the man and his friends walked away leaving Bradley on the flood, wiping the blood from his lipr. His entire hungry walk back to his room was followed by a series of vulgar language directed straight at him. He sat in his room most of the day, looking at the cold wall trying to think of how all this went wrong. When the halls quieted down, he walked out and made his way to the phones. Bradley picked up a phone and began to dial the number he worked so hard to memorize. 

"Nuh-uh, hangover. That's my phone." 

Bradley looked at the phone that looked to be for public use. "I thought these were-"

"You thought wrong. Move along."

Bradley went over to another unoccupied phone and yet again a man walked up close behind him. "Unless, you fixing to be my secretary, then I suggest you start fucking walking." Bradley hung up the phone and tried another, just to be shoved against the wall.