Brent laid back on that cool concrete bench, absorbing the evening sunlight through his pale white skin. Aww, that fresh air, as the air drifted past his lips and through his nostrils. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. It was then he allowed himself to drift back in time to the beginning of a new chapter in his life. A chapter in which he would never choose to write for himself a hundred and twenty-one days earlier.
Brent had operated a computerized saw for a large wood mill in the small town of Wills Point, just 13 miles north of where he had been incarcerated. Brent went to work at 7:00 am that Thursday morning like he had for the last seven years. Brent was not his boisterous self. He had been quiet ever since his wife of 19 years and 18-year-old daughter had packed all their belongings and left the Monday prior. How she could just abandon Cody, her 17-year-old son, and I like this hung around in his head like a recurring nightmare. 3:00 that afternoon Cory a 6 foot 3 inch, slender build athlete in his early 40s, who was Brent’s supervisor came out to where he was working.
“Brent, could you come with me, please?” Cory asked.
“Yes, sir.”
As they walked towards Cory’s office, Brent looked through the oversized glass window where the offices were; Brent saw Amy, the receptionist, standing their next to two police officers. One was a short big boned female with short dark hair and a bulldog snarl, and the other was a tall, clean cut, brunette, chiseled out male in his early 20’s who probably lived in the gym. Brent thought, Oh, no, what do they want this time? Cory led the way through the door. Brent no sooner got through the door when the male officer convincingly grabbed him by arm.
Brent Matthews, you’re under arrest, said the female officer.
“What for?” Brent exclaimed anxiously.
“Turn around and place your hands on the glass and spread your legs,” said the male officer as he kicked Brent’s left ankle then right ankle repeatedly, forcing him to spread his legs.
“WHY AM I BEING ARRESTED?”
“You’ll know soon enough,” the female officer said with her snarl.
“I HAVE A RIGHT TO KNOW WHAT IS GOING ON,” Brent said furiously.
When the officer finished the head-to-toe pat down on Brent, he proceeded to grab Brent’s right hand with a purpose and placed it behind Brent’s back. It was then Brent felt the coldness of the steel bracelets as the officer locked it around his wrist. It was then the officer grabbed his left hand and placed them behind his back and proceeded to lock the cold steel bracelet. As Brent heard click, click, click and felt the cold steel bracelets tighten, anger turn into a nervous, stomach rumbling fear. Reality was setting in and tears began to run down his cheeks.
Brent pleaded with the officers once again, “Please tell me why I am being arrested? I have a right to know!”
It was then he looked out the glass to see his fellow workers just staring at him with a look of mystification written on the faces. Brent could see the concern on Cory’s face as he looked to his right. It was then the officers grabbed Brent by the left arm and started to the left to leave, when he saw the owner of the company standing at the edge of his office doorway with disgust written all over his face. When they turned all the way around, Brent noticed the company secretary, Amy, watching. Brent just dropped his head and stared at the floor as shame and embarrassment set in. Brent was not sure why he was being arrested, but he knew people would be talking and rumors would fly.
“You will know soon enough, now calm down before you make things worse for yourself,” the male officer replied as he was placing Brent in the back of the squad car.
Brent heard the female officer on the radio telling the dispatcher, “We have apprehended Mr. Matthews and on our way in,” while he was contemplating different scenarios about why he was being arrested. Brent could not get comfortable. His body was tweaked to the side, legs were cramped together in space made for a child’s legs, and to top it off it felt like the cuffs were cutting into his wrist. Brent just knew he was going to hurl through the cage that separated the prisoner from the officers, even though he didn’t. Even though the police station was only three miles away, it felt as if it took eternity to get there.
Brent set there staring at the door leading into the police station, while the officers parked the car. Brent pondered the week he was having. Just three days earlier he and his son came home from work to find his wife and daughter had packed all their belongings and left for reasons unknown, and now this. It was then Brent realized his wife was probably behind all this. It’s not the first time she has had me arrested, he thinks to himself. What did she say I did this time? Did she tell them I threatened to kill her and the kids, then forced myself on her like she did in back in ’99. Maybe she told them I hit her, like she did in 2001, when I went to jail because she kicked me two times, and when I blocked the third kick I left a bruise on her right thigh.
Brent then noticed the male officer opening the back door of the squad car to get him out. The officer took Brent by the left arm and asked Brent to step out of the car so they could go in to the station. The station was very small, maybe the size of a large class room. It had maybe 6 or 7 officers, a dispatcher, a clerk and the Chief of police, Mr. Davis. It also had two, 8-foot-by-10-foot cells that were cold, dreary, and damp. They were equipped with a set of steel bunk beds with 2-inch-thick mattresses in each and a stainless steel commode with a water fountain coming out of the top.
“Sit down right here. Mr. Davis will be right with you,” said the female officer.
“Can you take off these handcuffs, they hurt?”
“In due time,” Mr. Davis said.
“Do you know why you were arrested?” Mr. Davis asked.
“No sir, no one will tell me.”
“Your wife said you forced yourself upon her and sexually assaulted her. You also performed sodomy on her and forced her to give you oral sex last Friday night and Sunday night. Don’t deny it, we saw a bruise on the lower back and on her wrist and arms. She said could barely walk when you got done and we also have DNA to prove it.”
“I would never hurt my wife like that. I admit we had sex on Friday night. But it was not forced upon her and there was no sodomy or oral sex. She is my wife and we do have a sex life. Last time I checked that was legal.”
“It’s illegal to assault your wife and force her to have sex with you. “
“But I…”
“That’s enough Brent. We have doctor’s reports, DNA, and your wife’s report. That is all we need.”
“Officer Smitty, lock him up in the cell until the judge gets here,”
“WHY WON’T YOU LISTEN TO ME,” Brent yelled as heard that unfriendly sound of the steel door slamming shut behind him and the officer turning the key in the lock.
Brent looked around in the cold, dreary, and damp cell and thought to himself, Brent, you have been thrown into a hornets nest this time. It was then that Brent remembered, Cody, his son. What’s he going to do? That, “BITCH,” first she leaves us both, then has me locked up. Doesn’t she care anymore? He’s only 17 and a senior in high school. He can’t make it on his own. Brent sat on the edge the bunk with his arms bent, elbows locked against his knees and his head buried in his hands, he was no longer worried about himself anymore. He had a son to worry about.
A couple of hours had went by when Brent heard the keys pierce the lock on the door. A large bean-and-cornbread fed redneck male officer opened the door and said, “Mr. Matthews to come with me.”
As the officer took Brent back out to where he was first questioned, Brent noticed a much older lady in very expensive clothing and jewelry, looked like she getting ready to go out for the evening.
“Mr. Matthews, would you please have a seat in the chair at the end of the desk,” she asked.
“My name is Judge Janice Singer, I will be arraigning you and setting your bond. Before we go any further, I need to tell you, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be…..”
Brent was hearing none of this, his mind was full of worry about Cody and how was he going to take care him if he is locked up. Where is he going to stay and how is he going to finish his senior year of school?
Then he heard the Judge say, “Do understand your rights?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You are being charged with a 1st degree felony of sexual assault, sodomy and forced oral sex on your wife on the said nights of Friday, August 6th and Sunday, August 8th.”
“Can you afford an attorney or do you need the courts to appoint one to you?”
“I cannot afford one.”
“Your bond will be set at $75,000 cash bond.”
“Yes, ma’am”
Brent continued to sit there in his chair, thinking to himself, she has finally done it. She got me out of her life. Just like a bucket of ice water being dumped over his head, Brent was overcome with shakes and fear. Brent couldn’t help but think, What will happen to him when inmates find out his charges? Brent remembered some of the horror stories about men in prison with the same type charges as his. The gang rapes, the beatings, the killings, and some become bitches. If you’re a bitch, then you’re nothing but a queer whore to one man or a gang of men. They will have to kill me before I allow that to happen, Brent thinks.
“Brent, your pastor and son are here to see you, you have two minutes,” Mr. Davis said.
Brent saw Cody. Immediately he wrapped his arms around Cody and held him like there was no tomorrow.
“Thank you for bringing him to see me,” Brent said to his pastor.
“We had to be here to give statements,” pastor said.
“Statements!”
“Your wife said that you two came to my office for marriage counseling, because you were abusive towards her and your daughter. That you guys fought all the time and you always wanted her to perform in bed and you would get angry if she didn’t.”
“DO WHAT, marriage counseling, we never …” Brent questioned with hostility.
“Oh, that’s not the worst part. She told the officers that I told her she needed to submit to you because she is your wife, and if he wants you to perform in bed then do it. She also put in the report that Cody has chased her around the house with a meat clever and a hammer before and you done nothing about it,” Brent’s pastor stated.
“Why is she dragging Cody into this?” Brent questions.
“I don’t know why she is acting this way, but please get Cody away from here and keep her away from him,” Brent replied.
“Your mom is on her way here from Denton to pick him up. He is going to stay there,” replied the pastor.
“I am sorry, bud, that your mom is acting like she is,” Brent said to Cody.
It was really hard for Brent to hold it together when it looked like someone turned the faucets on under his boy’s eyes. He knew Cody was scared and there was nothing he could do about it.
“If I could get my hands on that woman, I would give her a reason to have me locked up like an animal,” Brent thinks aloud.
“Okay Brent, times up,” Mr. Davis said.
“I will come and visit the first chance I get, and I am sure your mom will bring Cody to see you every chance they get,” Brent’s pastor said.
“Thank you for everything, sir.”
“I love you, bud. Your grandmother will take care of you.”
“I love you, too, dad.”
On their way out, Brent’s pastor looked back and told Brent, “Keep your head up and don’t the system get you down.”
As the officer was taking Brent back to his cell, he told Brent, “A deputy from the county will be here to transfer you to county lockup within a couple of hours.”
All Brent could do was think about was the lies his wife was telling. But it really made him angry that she would accuse their son of such terrible things and to say the pastor gave him permission to rape her. I don’t understand. Doesn’t she know the pain and hurt she is causing? Does she even care? OH, I HATE THAT WOMAN RIGHT NOW!
A couple of hours went by when he heard the cell door open up and an officer said, “Mr. Matthews come with me.”
Brent was asleep when he heard the cell door open up, as he climbed off the bunk, he rubbed the sleepiness out of his eyes. The officer stood at the door way and asked Brent to come with him. When Brent walked around the cell door he saw two sheriff’s deputies, one was about 5 foot 5 inches tall, bald and a little over weight. Brent thought, I can out run that one, but the second one on the other hand was a different story. He was head taller, rough looking red head in his early 30’s and very healthy looking. The deputies were standing with an officer talking. Brent could not take his eyes off of the ankle-to-wrist shackles attached to a large heavy looking leather belt about 4 inches wide the larger deputy was holding. Brent had seen cop shows where the criminals wore these shackles, but he never thought he would be wearing any.
“Mr. Matthews, turn around and face the wall,” the larger deputy said.
As Brent was facing the wall, he noticed a clock with a built in calendar. His eyes drift towards the clock to see what time it was, 11:55 pm, Thursday, August 12, 2010. Just then a light bulb lit up bright in Brent’s head, I will be officially booked in Friday the 13th. Can it get any worse, he thought?! The larger deputy wrapped the leather belt around Brent’s waist. The belt was like a weight lifter’s belt, but fastened in the back and had a steel ringlet on the front with the hand cuffs and two, 3-foot chains with leg irons that wrap around the ankles attached on the end of the chains. Altogether it all weighed approximately 10 pounds, and you could only take baby steps. You’re not going anywhere to fast in these, Brent thought.
The larger deputy told Brent, “Let’s go,” once he was finished.