Innocence in Jail

“Lucile, nice to see you again.” A kind hearted man said to a quivering woman as he ushered her into a concrete room with a heavy door; the type of room that ironically feels like a prison. The woman, known to this town as the loving mother Lucile Kennedy, nodded her acknowledgement and walked across the threshold. The man ushered her to the long, steel table situated in the center of the dreary, gray room. She took a seat, placing her hand bag on one knee which bobbed a bit impatiently. She looked up as the man took a seat across from her. The door closed with a loud snap and glared towards the man.

“Is it true Stan?” The woman, Lucile, asked in a shaky, yet grave voice. The man looked as though he wanted to draw out this conversation before getting to the point; however he gave a slight nod. Stanly Kilborn was not a ruthless man. He was a widely acknowledged social worker in the town, but the woman before him shot daggers with her eyes at the man.

“Lucile, please calm yourself.” Stan said as politely as he could. The woman seemed to think about it before she let herself relax in her chair. “He has been proven innocent.” the man said evenly. He put his tired looking face into his hands, not wanting to look at her face. He knew Lucile Jones never wanted to believe the boy to be guilty. He had been trying to convince her of it for years, but soon he decided he should attempt the impossible and that brought him to getting the evidence for the child’s innocence. It wasn’t easy, but soon it was overly obvious that Jayce Perkins never killed Riley Overs. The poor orphaned boy had simply been in the wrong place at clearly the worst time. The woman gave a strangled smile and glared once more.

“We can not find any finger prints of his on any of the objects or on Riley. We have found several other finger prints; we are trying to figure out whose they are. I just don’t understand why Jayce never told us who did it. He knew he wasn’t guilty, but who was?” Stan spoke the words quickly. It was quite obvious that this was something he had been thinking about constantly. Lucile gave him a look of sympathy.

“What I have been saying for years.” Lucile whispered; making to get up, but the man was out of his seat in an instant with a hand placed on her shoulder.

“Lucy, please, just give us 10 minutes of your time. I promise it’s worth it.” Stan said with strained eyes as he walked, not back to his seat, but to one closer to the woman. He looked at her with worried eyes. Lucile’s face grew strained with one stiff nod he walked swiftly to the door. He knew what she was thinking. A mistake had caused this innocent boy to be held in this home for delinquents for 3 years. Her daughters Leslie Kennedy’s best friend no less. The boy who had no parents. The sweet boy who had come to dinner at their house every Sunday during the summer since he was 11. Now the 17 year old boy was most likely not the 14 year old happy go lucky bundle of joy. He wasn’t going to forgive her; her daughter would forever lose her best friend.

She could remember the day clearly. Jayce and Leslie had been playing basketball in the park. Leslie had gone home for dinner and Jayce had been reluctant to head back to his foster parent’s home. Details aren’t known really, but the next thing Jayce knew was sitting in a hospital. His arm was in plaster and he could feel the throbbing of his head. All he cared about was if Leslie was alright, but nobody would let him see her. He had nobody to stick up for him. Everybody was content to think that this orphaned boy had simply gone insane. A classmate Riley, was buried the following day. Even Jayce sometimes believed in his guilt, but he couldn’t remember a thing.

Lucile knew he wouldn’t have done it. Not the sweet, polite boy who had stuck up for Leslie when kids teased her. It killed her to see her daughter break after this. She went from the blissful child who studied and played sports to a child who never left the house. Her grades dropped and she grew pale and Lucile knew it was time to take action. Lucile couldn’t believe that her innocent, sweet daughter had been best friends with a murderer. Nothing at all added up.

“When can we see him then?” Lucile asked once she gained composure. Stan propped the heavy door open as a man in a police uniform held a boy by both his shoulders and guided him to a chair in the middle of the table. He grabbed a pair of hand cuffs off his belt and the boy gave a defeated look towards Stan before holding his wrist up. The cuff was closed around his wrist and to one of the holes on the sturdy metal chair. The police officer left the room and Stan shut the door behind him with a snap. Returning to his spot at the table he took a seat.

“How are you Jayce?” Stan asked in a gentle voice. The boy looked up with his sad brown eyes and gave a shrug. He was wearing the outfit of all the boys at this delinquent place. A pair of grey shorts clung to his too thin frame. A black t-shirt with the name of the institution was a bit baggy on his frame. He had gained several inches since that day 3 years ago. The wavy, dark brown locks were not shaggy as they had been but cut in a buzz cut that Lucile thought must be mandatory. The boy had been very adamant about his hair being kept to his ears in the past. Lucile knew now that it was because his ears did stand out at a bit of an angle, however he looked just as she pictured him. Scared, defeated, yet still holding that adorable look that had won her daughters heart years ago. Lucile was still lost for breathe at the site of him. Jayce looked, not at Lucile, but at Stan; his ever paler face grey confused as his eyes found Lucile’s face. Lucile saw the way they lit up briefly. Lucile fell in a pit of guilt at the site of him.

“I’m fine sir. Can you tell me what’s going on?” Jayce asked in a soft voice. Lucile saw how nervously his feet moved as he sat on the metal chair at the table. His arm slumped down with the weight of the metal around his wrist. Lucile couldn’t look at that. It was proof that they thought him a delinquent. They thought him a murderer.

“So sorry, they have not gotten the memo.” Stan said putting a hand through his slightly bald locks of brown. He put them over his face as another exhausted expression crossed his face. This wasn’t fair to the boy.

“Jayce, we think it’s time you get home.” Stan said with a grin plastered on his face. Lucile searched her bag for a tissue as tears cascaded down her cheek.

But, to all their surprise Jayce didn’t return their happy looks of joy. His eyes filled with hope just a moment ago, looked from the mother of his old best friend to his social worker, two people he used to trust unconditionally. “I don’t have a home.” He repeated sadly. The man looked at his confusedly, “You can go live with Joan and Lucas. They are prepared to take you back with a full apology. They are so sorry.” Stan stated, hoping for a better reaction.

“Why aren’t they here then?” Jayce asked. His voice was no longer soft and defeated. A bit of confidence seemed to build. “I didn’t do anything, but I suffered. I never hurt anyone.” He took a deep breath, tugging his arm that was attached to the metal chair, as if indicating that he quite literally couldn’t go anywhere.

“I don’t want to live with people who thought I killed someone…” Jayce added. “I would like to go back to class.” He stated quietly, he was on track to graduate soon and the only thoughts on his mind were being away from familiar people. Starting over and trusting someone someday. If he had been in a juvenile detention center for things he didn’t do, maybe they would provide him with an education. Jayce always wanted to go to college and do something to help the world.

“Well, Jayce,” Stan began, not really sure what to say. He figured this would be an issue. How could Jayce trust them again? Stan had visited almost every week, however it wasn’t enough. He had been through 3 years and nobody had believed his innocence.

“You can go back to St. Bendard’s.” Lucile piped in, her voice cracking a little bit. “Finish your senior year and college is paid for by the government, after what they did…” She couldn’t bring herself to discuss the false accusation of such a severe crime as murder, but she had talked about it already once she had begun thinking he was innocent. He would be pardoned and given a hefty sum of money. She knew his dreams for college and he had always been a great student. He had been so great that he was given a scholarship for the same boarding school as Leslie. It was a sad year in 8th grade when Lucile, whom had always planned for her daughter to get a better education than she could in their small /town, had begun getting applications for these schools. The young boy would have been lost without Leslie and therefore filled out the same ones, but added the financial aid application to not burden his foster parents. It turned out that his test scores were so impressive that no financial aid was granted but a scholarship begging him to many wonderful schools. He decided upon the same as Leslie, since that was easily the point of his escapade. It was the summer after freshman year that he was sent here, only weeks before his 15th birthday.

“They won’t take me back.” Jayce whispered looking down at his feet, truly bothered by his chained arm. If he was free then this was ridiculous, he thought to himself looking at Stan.

“Incorrect Jayce;” Stan stated with a bit of a smile pulling at his lips. “I’ve already talked to them and to your foster parents, but we had to pull strings for Lucy to even come in here. She was only permitted because she had been in to see a few boys with some chicken pox on floor 2.” A slight look of understanding crossed over Jayce’s face. Lucile was one of the best doctors in town.

Jayce bit his lip. He raised his cuffed hang up and down a few times, hitting the metal softly against the table to give him a minute to think.

“What if everyone hates me now?” He questioned in a voice that was a bit immature perhaps, but he was scared.

“Honey, it will be okay.” Lucile decided softly after a few minutes. Jayce nodded, prepared to get out of this place that had held him for nearly 3 years. It was nearing the end of summer vacation and if it was true that he could head back to his old school then he was in a hurry to prepare for his senior year. He wished he could change his name at the very least. Not too many people would recognize him without that name tagged to his face.

“Stan can go with you back to your room so you can pack, then we will call Joan. She has been shopping to get you new clothes.” Stan explained as he got up and headed for the door. “She called a few days ago, didn’t she talk to you? I’m sure she was unable to tell you what has been going on, but her and Lucas had been frantic ever since you left to prove your innocence. It just took a long time.”

“I haven’t talked to her in 2 months.” Jayce admitted looking down at the table. The truth was that he hadn’t been able to keep the emotion from his voice on the phone easily. He would make sure to talk to his foster family on holidays sometimes, but letters were largely more plausible for his situation. He knew Joan was probably upset and angry at him.

“Well, she had been trying to get in touch.” Stan said biting his lip in understanding. “Let’s get to your room.” Stan said holding the door opened.

Jayce raising his cuffed arm again, trying his best not to send a glare towards Stan. Stan nodded, calling down the hall for the guard who had brought him in. Stan very much wanted to leave this place. It was a mix between a jail and a boot camp, visitors were very limited as the children here are being “helped.” The guard came in and carefully unlocked the cuff. Jayce stood up, rubbing his wrist softly and followed behind Stan, the feeling of freedom shocking him; he could hardly speak. An evil grin fell on his face as he led the way to room 103 which he shared with 2 other boys who frankly quite frightened the sweet hearted naïve boy. He opened the door, which was only permitted to be locked at night (and only from the outside). Stan followed him in as Lucile went to the nurses’ office to care for the sick boys. Stan glanced around the disturbingly clean room.

There were 2 beds bunked against one wall and then one single bed. No window for light left the room dank and dreary even after Jayce had flicked on the light. Stan stood and waited as Jayce went to the top bunk and grabbed a few items. Only a small pillow he recognized from his frequent visits to Joan and Lucas’s home and a very tattered book. He climbed down and carefully put these items in a book bag at the foot of his bed. Seeing as how the uniform of a place he didn’t want to remember were all the clothes he was permitted to wear, clothes wouldn’t be taken with him, but he did take a few notebooks from the ratty desk in the corner and a few pictures from inside the drawer. It hurt Stan to see the few possessions he had been allowed.

Once Jayce was done he walked to the door and opened it, waiting for Stan to walk out and following behind the man and towards where he knew the front office was. His heart was beating loudly and truth be told he felt a bit nauseous at this escapade.