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“If there is grass in the back yard, they didn’t find it. Shrink wrapped and then placed in sealed plastic containers. No metal. Won’t set off any detectors. Put your back against the grapefruit tree in the back yard. Look at the fence post with the red top. Take three paces. Dig. It’s about three feet down. A quarter million dollars.”

“I’ll go collect the retainer. When I get back we will talk about your defense” said the lawyer.

That was the last time the brother ever saw the lawyer. The public defender sent him to prison and didn’t bother to listen to the story of the other lawyer. When he got out he talked to some former neighbors and they said the DEA didn’t do any digging in the back yard. There was still a big hole where the lawyer dug up the money. I found this out because the other brother returned to Illinois after his prison time and spoke with someone I knew. I imagine the brothers don’t have big family holiday gatherings since they are still both alive.

Like I said, I should be glad this cock sucker showed up. That lawyer saw he had a virgin without outside help and decided to fuck him good. This might have been that same piece of shit. I never did get the guy’s name. What was the difference between that brother’s virginity and mine? The manilla envelop in my hand. That’s how I knew what my girlfriend had done. There was no writing on the envelop but I could feel a wallet inside.

I walked a few blocks until I found a small breakfast and brunch type diner. Once I was in a booth I opened the envelop taking out the wallet and putting it in my pocket after seeing $500 cash and a credit card registered to a business I had a quiet stake in. This wouldn’t be frozen. There was a handwritten letter in the envelop stating she had booked a hotel room and would be waiting there with some clothes for me.

She really was a good woman.

I put all of my other papers into the envelop and ordered breakfast.

Had to hail a cab and use cash to get to the hotel. Boy that felt weird!

Monday morning came too soon. I showed up early with a duffel bag full of clothes and my paperwork. I checked in with the receptionist and asked for the person.

“Have a seat. Someone with be with you in a bit” she replied then left.

The door out of the tiny reception area was open. I could see people walking by periodically. There were no magazines, just a sign on the wall about how acting out, cussing, hollering, basically anything other than just sitting there breathing would get you rejected from the program. Thankfully I had brought a bottle of water, or so I thought. There wasn’t even a garbage can or plant in the corner. When your bladder got full you suffered.

I got really tired of watching people walk past the door. Tried to sleep. Every time I closed my eyes someone popped their head in to ask who I was waiting for.

You weren’t allowed to bring a phone or watch. No electronics of any kind. You weren’t even allowed to bring your own magazines or books. Basically they allowed you no opportunity to either measure or pass time.

At half past bladder full someone popped their head into the room and said “We talked it over and don’t think you are a good fit for this program.”

“WTF!” screamed my brain. Fatigue is usually an enemy, but even an enemy can be a friend. I pulled the sheet of paper from my coat and in a tired voice responded “I have an appointment to see this person and am not leaving.” She didn’t even look at the paper, just walked away.

More time was spent watching people walk past that door. My bladder had me seriously pondering just how well I could hit the opening of that now empty bottle.

The same woman came back and said “The doctor is not available to speak with you today and the rest of us have decided you are not a fit for the program. Please leave.”

“I have an appointment to see this person and am not leaving until I do. If my being here bothers you please feel free to call the cops, they made the appointment” I responded with even less energy than my previous response. My mind was racing but my body was too tired to care. That line about the cops was a really stupid thing to say and my brain was screaming about my uncontrolled mouth to the rest of my body. My eyes did not waiver and I don’t think I blinked.

“As you wish” she said before leaving. This time she closed the door. All this time nobody had appeared behind the receptionist window. Nobody else had come into the waiting room from the hallway. Part of my mind, perhaps the logical part, was pointing out to the hysterical part that I was the only appointment on the schedule today. Obviously someone was watching me via the round black security camera in the ceiling. This was some kind of test to find my breaking point.

“What if it’s not!” screamed the hysterical part. “Fall on your knees and beg damn it! You know you have money they didn’t find, somewhere. Make a run for it.”

I was glad the hysterical part of my mind brought that up. “That’s exactly what the cops have been hoping you do since they let you go” it stated. “Maybe they found all of your cash and just left some drugs behind along with wireless cameras to film you opening the container which should have had cash and now has only a couple of kilos.” I was unaware of it at the time, but the argument in my brain kept me from thinking about my bladder.

A very stern looking woman of considerable size opened the door and stated in a loud voice “Sir! We have decided you are not a fit for this program. You must leave now.” She slammed the door and this time I heard it lock. I was about to point to the sign about hollering but that would have to wait.

I could smell food. It was well past lunch time. I assume they hoped the smell of food would make me leave. Not on a bet. This was a contest now. It was like those staring matches everyone had as a kid. Five more people came at various times tell me to leave. Some waited for a response, others did not. The most creative one appeared in the door carrying a bag from McDonald’s. “Sir. We do not see new addicts after lunch. You will have to leave and make an appointment for another time.”

“Feel free to call the cops and have them come tell me when my next appointment is” I responded. “Until then I’m going to wait and see the person I was sent here to see. And for the record” I continued. “I’m not an addict.”

“That’s what you all say” she spat.

“Feel free to let me pee in a cup and take some hair. If you ask nicely and have a nurse I will even let you draw blood. Lab tests don’t lie.” She slammed the door as she walked away.

About twenty minutes later a woman in a nurses outfit came to the door. “Sir, I’m here to collect your samples.”

“Do you want me to pee in a cup right here or can I use a bathroom so I can let all of it go?”

“Follow me. I do have to watch though.”

“Fine.”

She led me to an odd little stall built specifically for this purpose. There was a window like hole cut in the side and the ledge was the shelf to put the full cup on. Relief never felt so good. I washed my hands then she took hair from my head, chest and eye brow. Finally she put my arm up to draw blood.

After that I was lead into a different room. A typical doctor’s exam room. Again waiting. No way to know how long. A small Indian woman in a white coat came in. “I am Doctor Ramesh. I’m here to take your vitals.” It wasn’t just vitals. Foot inspection. Do a few squat thrusts to prove I didn’t have a hernia. Vision and hearing test. How long it took I do not know. When it was over I was told to wait as she disappeared. I could hear some slightly heated conversation through the thin walls. After a bit she came back in.

“Why are you here?” she asked.

“I have this piece of paper which said to show up at a specific time and talk to this person” I said handing her the paper.

“Yes. That person doesn’t exist. It’s how we identify the new patients” she responded. “Why are you here?” she asked again.

“That piece of paper said I had to be.”

“You’re not an addict!” she said raising her voice a bit.

“The cops made the appointment. They felt it was important. I’m here. It really is that simple doc.”

“But you are taking up a bed which could be used by an addict we can actually help” she replied.

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