Diamond in the Rough

The beer, tequila and whisky had tasted great, the thick lines of cocaine strong and mind-numbing. Exactly what he needed after losing his already volatile temper. He had lost his head and had blabbed about beating up and seriously injuring Mickey Brisbane, the thought of returning to Walpole not too far in the distance. He grabs the bottle of whisky from the night stand, his hangover angry. After a few drinks of liqueur and a few oxycontin's, he rolls onto his side and drifts into sleep.

***

He sucks in a deep breath and follows the guard through the various security checkpoints. He's searched, his drivers license photocopied and his visitor's form scrutinised. He's led through corridors with automatic locking doors, bars and CCTV footage. He isn't sure what he's doing here, except that this visit was probably long overdue.

He is led into the visiting room where he had once spoken to Jem through bullet-proof glass. Around the perimeter of the room are booths, the only way to contact the other side is through phones. On the prisoner's side of the room they are locked into the booths, separated from their peers by bars and monitored closely by guards.

Doug sits down at booth seven and looks around. There are upset wives talking to their husbands and friends talking to their old buddies.
He watches the figure in the red jumpsuit, chained and shackled.
He looks older, thinner, but still has that mean snarl that drove fear into him as his kid. His hair is swooped back against his skull with hair cream and he's wearing glasses.

"Every time I look at you now it's the...uh red pyjamas. You're still getting into trouble with that?" Doug asks, no formal greetings or pleasantries are exchanged between father and son.

"Well, you know how it is. Can't take no shit"

"You're getting a little old for that bullshit though, aren't you?" Doug points out. Even the great Stephen MacRay is infallible when old age is on the cards.

"Fuckin' southie kids, they wanna run everything" Stephen makes a face in disgust.

Doug watches the guard behind his father, casually sauntering by. He waits until the guard is clear before speaking to his father.

"I'm thinking about..um taking a trip. Out of town"

Stephen MacRay nods in realisation.

"Takin' heat?"

"Just a change" Doug replies simply.

"Makin' a change my ass. You either got heat or you don't. I heard a bank got jacked"

"Yeah?" Doug fakes mock surprise "I didn't hear about it"

Stephen gives another slight nod and stops talking as the wandering guard passes behind him.

"Let me ask you something in case I don't see you again. How come you never looked for her?"

"Look for who?" Stephen asks. Intrigued.

"For Ma. How come you never looked for her? How come you never tried to call her or look and ask around?"

Stephen MacRay sighs heavily and shakes his head. Doug was never going to get over this.

"Look, when your mother left you cried so hard you threw up all over the place. So, I told you if you looked around you might find her. It was a...to give you an activity. I didn't think you'd carry it around like a fuckin' disease all these years."

Doug looks at him.

"What, you wanna think she was an angel? Go ahead. Look out your front door. How many twenty-two year old girls are out there, they're fuckin' around with kids they don't want. And, you know...no sense in their heads. And your mother was no different. That's the truth of it. I made my piece with it years ago. You make yours. I didn't look for her cause there was nothin' to find, kid."

Doug watches his father as he gets up from his bolted down stool.

"Look, I gotta die five times over before I get outta here. I'll see you again this side or the other"

***
Doug thinks about what his father said, particularly about his mother. He's not just leaving because of his criminal lifestyle, but because he wants a new start somewhere else. As a kid he was always known as Stephen MacRay's kid, the boy who searched the streets looking for his runaway mother. He has and always will be known as the kid who tried to rob a store with a nail gun, of course his brother Jem Coughlin also got sent down.

He gets out of the car and strolls into the house, which surprisingly is quiet. Krista must have taken Shyne out for the day. Knowing Krista she has probably taken Shyne with her while she scores some drugs.

Thirsty, he goes into the kitchen.

"Drink?"

Doug looks at Jem who is sitting at the kitchen table, a few empty beer bottles and a half empty bottle of whisky. A smouldering cigarette dangles from his lips, a compact mirror and plastic card on the table with cocaine residue on it. A small bag, almost empty next to it.

"I heard you coming in last night" Doug says.

Jem had come home in a bad mood, slamming the front door and then his room door. It was no surprise that he was getting drunk and high. The end result in every bad mood.

"You sounded pretty pissed" he says. He watches Jem as he pours himself a whisky and drinks it down in one gulp.

"Remember Fiona Nicholson?" Jem slurs.

"Sure. That girl from the bar" Doug confirms.

"I went 'round her place last night."

Jem swirls the whisky around the
bottom of his glass, mesmerised.

"We were talking and I lost it. Fuck!"

Jem slams his fists down on the table, knocking over the empty bottles.

"Go talk to her" Doug says.

Jem looks up and shakes his head.

"I can't"

"What did you do?" Doug asks in a serious tone. "Well?"

"I told her it was me who did Brisbane"

"And?" Doug shrugs his shoulders"Everyone around here knows he deserved it. Was going to happen"

"She works for the DA's office" Jem says quietly. "I'm fucked"

"Jesus christ!" Doug barks at him. "What the hell were you thinking? Do you want to go back to Walpole?"

Jem downs another drink and slams the glass on the table. He's been stupid, he knows it.

"Like I fuckin' did it on purpose." Jem bites back.

"You've really fucked yourself now. Do you know she's duty bound to tell the cops?"

Jem nods.

"How are you gonna get out of this one?" Doug rubs his face. He feels a headache coming on.

"Visit me in the can, huh"