By P. Berman, K. Hecht, and A. Hosack
Life in jail was paralleling Larry’s life growing up; he was always being humiliated or beaten up by someone with more power than him. At night when he was finally was able to fall asleep, he had bizarre dreams in which he always ended up begging Claire to drop the charges and let him out of jail. Waking up from these dreams was an exercise in self-hatred. While they were just “dreams,” Larry felt they were signs that he was not a “real” man. None of the men he knows at the bar, and certainly not his dad, would ever beg a woman for anything. Claire should be coming to jail every day and begging for his forgiveness. She had never come by and something in his mind was telling him he had reversed roles with her.
He couldn’t get out of his head what the police had said to each other as they had driven off with him in the back of their patrol car. They were talking about Claire, and with him off the streets, how she was now safe.
Claire didn’t need protection from him! He had been her protector at school from all the guys who had been bullying her.
When they charged Larry at the station, they showed him a photo of Claire with a black eye. He didn’t deny he punched her, but he tried to explain that she had asked for it and she knew it! Larry wondered over and over what crazy thoughts the Carsons were stuffing into Claire’s head that would make her press charges against him just because he hit her at the restaurant.
It was her dad she was terrified of, not him!
Claire was always black and blue from something she had done to irritate her parents; he had been the one to comfort her! When they were dating in high school, things went smoothly most of the time. But sometimes she had needed to be reminded that he was calling the shots. She had always learned before.
She was so grateful when I stopped by the house after giving her the cold shoulder for a month. Now that was how things should bebetween men and women.
He was dragged out of his cell by the guard saying it was time to meet his attorney. Larry looked up at the clock and was instantly furious; it was forty minutes later than his appointment had been scheduled. Larry had never met an attorney before but had seen plenty of police shows on TV. Attorneys only treated scum this way, and he was not scum. This guy was supposed to prove that in court. A very angry Larry was shoved into a small room with a table. The guard then slammed and locked the door.
Larry’s attorney didn’t even look up; he just started to talk fast while reading a pile of documents. “My name is Mr. Branister, and I am your assigned public defender. . .” Larry broke in and said, “How about an apology for keeping me waiting like an idiot for forty minutes.” The attorney didn't bother to look up. He just said, “I have about fifteen of you guys to see today, and it doesn’t always go smoothly.”
That was no apology. Mr. Branisterclearly didn’t think he deserved one. There he sat, not even looking him in the eyes like a man. Clearly, he thoughtLarry was a bug beneath his feet.
Mr. Branister had succeeded in humiliating Larry in about thirty seconds—but that had not been his intention. Some people called it “unconscious cultural elitism” that can be common among individuals who have lived privileged lives. Mr. Branister had never gone hungry, never been beaten, never wondered if he would live to see the next day – but Larry had. Until Mr. Branister had agreed to be a public defender to help him gain experience as an attorney, he had never met anyone who had gone to jail before; he just didn’t have a clue how tough life had been for Larry. He thought of Larry as one more guy that he had to process that day, not a guy whose whole life had been turned upside down and who desperately needed help.
Larry stood up, pushed at the papers on the desk and yelled that he expected to be treated with respect. Rather than apologizing, this Branister quickly closed his briefcase and said he would be off to see the next guy on his list. All of the fight went out of Larry in that instant. He had been so sure he would finally get out of jail. Now, his attorney was threatening not to help him.
“You gottaget me out of here. The other guys, even the guards, are treating me like I am their private punching bag. Of course, I am fighting back! What else would you expect me to do?”
The attorney looked up at Larry, looked back at his paperwork, and saw how young Larry was. . . the same age as his younger brother who always had trouble keeping his mouth shut. Mr. Branister took a deep breath and said, “Larry, let’s start over.”
New to our story? Read from the beginning by searching for "Claire's Story" on the ACEsConnection website, or by visiting https://pearlsberman.com/blog/
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