Letter 18

Renelle's note: This is James' continuation of the story from "Letter 17," of his time with Ms. X, whom he refers to in this letter as "Joyce."

April 16, 2011

Renelle,

Please excuse the condition this arrives in. There were some grievous difficulties with the writing instrument. I don't get it--a  brand new pen is unusably dead before writing one word even! I suppose I do get it, but only from a standpoint of business.

So, you're interested in the parts of my history taking place immediately after X-mas while I was still with Joyce and her offspring? I'll "tell" you, but a bit later, as our canteen orders just rolled in.

That was very fast and painful! Here I refer to wild variance(s) in my account. Moving right smartly along (before furnishing the verbage unwritten previously), I'd thought there was a parrot or macaw in here (the dorm), as I'd often hear the alleged bird calling out; but it turned out to be another smurf fooling around.

I think you told about where I left off and had a mental hiccup, so: 

Before the New Year had gotten a fair start, I was up to my same old ways, always chasing, but never catching a high like I wanted. That was really I was about, by then.

Then, because the huge (!) TV was only on the other side of a thin piece of drywall from my bed, and the two daughters (11, 18) didn't require sleep, they purposely set about a power-play (I'm convinced) by play a video game loudly all the time, robbing me of what little sleep I used to get! 

After about a week of this, I resolved to leave, but had nowhere immediately lined up to go to. That decision being made, I walked into the kitchen and got some pre-dawn coffee started. I needed a fresher mind to think on the decision before bringing it to Joyce.

The spawn just couldn't leave it alone, though! When the older one said something to me in a vaguely threatening way, I unloaded, telling them both exactly how I felt about the way they were acting, and what I suspected their intentions were. When I finished my say, Joyce was awake (sort of) and I told her about my decision, whereupon both girls told her how I was evil, rotten, and downright through and through just bad.

I went for a walk to cool off and also to get rid of any evidence I might accidentally pull out of my pockets. I walked to the darkest part of the road, made sure nothing was going to incriminate me; then I noticed a cruiser in front of the apartment, so I returned to get some coffee. Before I'd gotten back, another car drove up, and I checked myself again in the night shadows. 

When I got to the door, an officer was holding it open and I heard some shrill voices from inside. I walked in, identified myself, and asked if the cops wanted some coffee, too. I was told by the officer there no, and maybe it was a bad idea for me to have inflamed the situation by making any more threats than I had already. 

At no time had I made anything remotely even like a threat. Obviously, someone hadn't been entirely forthcoming about what actually had occurred. Forging on undismayed, I asked the officer nearest me if they were going to believe all the histrionic garbage coming out of those two, or get a shot of the truth. I was then ushered outside and asked for my version.

Point blank, I told them my plans and how they weren't part of them. The officer was nodding his head thoughtfully, and said how if I didn't have a place lined up to go to while I looked for something more permanent, he knew about a place called the Family/Emergency Shelter he'd be able to get me into. Sounded good and I now had to move, so away I went.

That place was hell! You had to carry all your things around with you for the first two days (as it turned out to be a state-funded detox/psych ward/warehouse, that stayed at maximum capacity!). After that, a "room" was assigned loosely fitting the individual's needs. I still smoked like a broke stove, so I had a big issue with the no-smoking policy. I'll go gladly into some of the changes I made in order to get out of there (!) another time, as they aren't germaine to this part of it.

About two weeks passed me I'll never get back, while there. Didn't they know there were people I had to annoy, that I couldn't as I was being kept secluded from them? At any rate, I managed to get officially "spoken to" before I left right afterwards. That part was intentional; dammit, I wanted a cigarette!

In that condition (nicotine-deficient), I wandered place to place chasing more than catching. Two things (or three) came through that time with me. The first thing was myself. I felt like some kind of alien interloper, observing the meaningless customs these strange humans had. Second and third (I redoubled my vow) was a promise to myself never to go anyplace that had a "policy" about smoking cigarettes again! I've at this point now (not then) rendered the second and third parts null and void, and the first part is nowhere as important, I've been told.

There it was, in Panavision and Technicolor. Too bad I was seeing everything through one eye, dimly. Think I'll read awhile now. 

Now, the time reads Sunday of the clock on my arm; a couple of pieces of information don't seem to agree with each other. Yesterday (Saturday) I got the order I filled out from the store here, and the receipt from 4/13 indicates a positive balance of $5.91 in my account. I later got another receipt from 4/13 indicating I had $65.13 in my account.

My quandary, then, is at least two-fold. Which do I believe, not being able to send word of the question to anyone knowledgeable enough to answer the first part; now I know for sure the two documents read different amounts for the same day, so the answer lies in the times they were made vs. the policy of prison of only allowing up to a certain amount to be spent each week, with the rollover day being what it is. That's a fairly significant amount to vanish through error, and hopefully, it won't go against me.

I've got another--I guess issue is the word--about being here. The cast of characters is so vast, though, that it would do no good to point a finger a a group/person, and likely do a quantity of harm in doing so. Here, one has to request at least one item from the law library in order to get any of the items only they provide. Being as I use a good deal of a form they have, I asked for two parts of Chapter 33 with them. They were due to be returned on the 13th.

Meanwhile, a teacher was administering the TABE test to me on the 13th. The law library orderlies came into the wing. I told the guy I needed to step out for a second to turn them in, but was told by him(!) that they'd be back again and to keep my seat. They didn't return. So, I've got some overdue Chapter 33 setions, and none of the forms to explain what happened.

Hope I haven't put you into a coma with my whining. I don't know if anything happens when you're overdue, but I stand by this: a TABE test is important, but so is answering a question truthfully!

I badly and desperately need a life! Until I'm able to, I'll continue to be a psychoactive fish in a neon pond.

Your ?perplexicated friend,

James