Mail Call

She sat on her bunk, reading the letter again. The woman in the bunk on the opposite side of her cell was staring at her. “Good news or bad, Macy?”

Macy looked up and smiled. “It’s both, I guess. Frank got out three weeks ago. He’s in a half-way house and it looks like he may have a job working for his brother Benjamin.”

Krystal nodded. “So, the bad news is you’re still here, right?”

“For another year.” She started to tear up a little. “Who knows what can happen in a year with him out there and me in here?”

“Nothing that probably wouldn’t happen anyway even if you were home, Macy. You know that,” Krystal said. She bit her fingernail. 

Macy put the letter away, carefully folding it and reinserting it into the envelope. She pulled the thin cotton blanket up to her chin, tucking herself in and turned away from Krystal. It was going to be a sleepless night, one of recrimination and regret. Six years ago, she and her husband Frank robbed a Taco Bell. She had been an assistant manager before she was fired for being late two days in a row. He manager never liked her. He saw her as a threat. When the opportunity came along, he got rid of her.

For a few months after that, she looked for work at other fast food outlets, but she was only offered entry level positions. Then, Frank, a truck driver for a local creamery, lost his job when he had another accident. It was only a fender bender, but it was his third; one too many. Money was always tight, but with two daughters in middle school, they were no longer choosing between filling the gas tank, or buying a pack of cigarettes. They were about to be evicted from their cramped two-bedroom apartment. Only a half-filled box of cereal was left to feed the kids. The night before, they had overturned the torn couch and battered love seat, praying for loose change.

That’s when Macy suggested they rob the Taco Bell. “I know when the best time is and we were robbed, what, three times when I worked there?” She was joking, but the way her husband looked at her, she knew he was willing. “I know how to do it, Frank, how to get past the security cameras”

“Won’t people working there remember you”” He asked.

“I’ll bet there’s nobody still working there that would know me.” But still, she wasn’t serious about it, just desperate.

“We’ll do it tonight,” he said. “Give the kids what’s left of the cereal and put them to bed.”

It didn’t go well. They were caught before they got to their car. Bad luck. A patrol car happened to pull in just as they were leaving. Since Frank and Macy both had guns, the charge was armed robbery. Later, Macy realized it might have been smarter to sell the guns.  They followed their lawyer’s advice and entered a plea. “With two kids, maybe the judge will go easy,” he said. “You’re both going away for a while, but with no priors, maybe not too long.”   

They were each sentenced to seven years. Frank got out after five, having been a model prisoner. Macy, on the other hand, had been in two scuffles during her first year, which greatly reduced her chances for early release.

When she thought Krystal was sleeping, she pulled out the letter again. Lights always on, she had no trouble reading it. She kept re-reading one thing Frank said. Been lonely a long time, Macy. Not sure how to cope with that. Kids are sad too. Was he setting her up for the most unwanted news she could imagine? Was there already another woman in his life, in the girls’ lives? She knew such thoughts were useless. A form of torture the warden practically encouraged by allowing her to read letters like this.

She decided to write a letter back to Frank and ask him what his comment meant. She couldn’t sleep anyway. Maybe writing a letter would help. She would give anything if she could spend five minutes with him right now.

Ten days later, Macy finally received a letter.  The scrawl was not Frank’s, but it was familiar. She had spent the last week fretting, while she waited, sure his response would crush her. After all, the thing that made it possible for her to get through the boredom, the confinement, the sameness of every day and night, was the dream that one day she, Frank and the girls would be reunited and start life anew.  She brought the letter to her bunk and showed it to Krystal. 

“Want me to read it for you?”

Macy shook her head. She tore open the envelope and pulled out a single page. It was a note from her mother-in-law. Frank is back in prison. He violated parole twice, the fool. The girls are fine.

“What does it say?” Krystal asked.

“It says I have nothing to worry about.”