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“How was your nurse's visit today?” he asked. “What are they saying about your healing?”
“Oh, Olga said my legs look good for being burned the way they were. If I keep up with the scraping and physical therapy, she said I should be able to go back to work in time.”
“Work,” Uncle Joe chuckled. “You’re always thinking about work. Is that all you have to live for? Why don’t you take the entire summer to pick up a new hobby or learn something new about yourself? You've got a beautiful cabin and a beautiful woman who I know you’re still in love with right at your fingertips. And you’re thinking about going to work? Is it money you need? Because I can spot you until you get your paycheck.”
His joke made me laugh. I knew Uncle Joe would give me whatever I needed. I didn’t need any money. I was pretty good at saving and living like a minimalist to have had some funds put away for the rainy days.
“Listen kid, all I'm saying is live a little. Go out on a limb. I've given almost my entire life to working and building my company, now I wish I would have slowed myself down and found a nice woman to settle down with and build a family. I don’t want you to end up a lonely old man like your Uncle Joey here.”
Hearing my uncle say he was lonely made me feel bad inside. I thought about all the times he’d gone out on a limb for me and mom, without ever once being selfish and putting himself first. He could have started a family himself, but he was too busy taking care of us.
“I appreciate you, Uncle Joe. And even though mom is a crazy psycho lady, I know she does too,” I said. “If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here today. Neither of us would.”
I spent the rest of my day calling every prison along the route from home. It was strange to me that none of them could give me any information on Trent. There were a few times when I thought I struck gold, but after being placed on hold for what felt like hours, they all said the same thing. “We aren’t permitted to give that kind of information.”
Where the hell did they move you to? I telepathically asked Trent. I thought that if I put some sort of frequency into the atmosphere, he’d magically hear it and a thought would pop into my head.
Surprisingly, a thought did pop into my head. When we were younger, Trent had always talked about moving to Florida. I never knew why he loved that place so much even though he’d never been. I knew prisoners didn’t get to choose where they went to prison, but since Trent loved it so much, I figured it was worth a shot.
I grabbed my laptop and made a list of every prison in Florida. There were one hundred and forty-three, including state and private facilities and other work-camps. That was a lot of calls to make, but since I had nothing but time on my hands, I started calling.
“Hello, my name is Brayden Knight. I’m calling to see if you have an offender by the name of Trent Norway at your camp?”
I can’t tell you how many times I said that same phrase that day. I got so tired of saying it, I threw my phone onto the bed and said fuck it. Making phone calls felt like more work than an entire twelve-hour shift at the fire station, and I wasn’t even halfway through my list.
I took a break from calling and ordered some food in. I was hungry, my eyes hurt, and I wanted to lay down and relax. However, I told myself I'd make one last call before starting again the next day. For some reason, one of the names on my list kept jumping out at me. It was at the very bottom, but my eyes wouldn't leave it for last. I couldn’t. My mom hadn’t been good for a lot in my life but one thing she told me was to always follow my instincts. So, I did.
“Hello, my name is Brayden Knight. I’m calling to see if you have an offender by the name of Trent Norway at your camp?”
After a long pause, the prison receptionist said, “one moment sir, while I place you on a brief hold.”
The hold was nowhere near brief. In fact, it was so far from brief, I wanted to hang up a few times.
“Hello, are you there sir?” the woman asked when she returned from what felt like a lunch break.
“Yeah,” I grunted. “I’m here.”
“Ok, sorry for the wait. I've been instructed to give you another number to call. You can get all of your information there.”
I thought it had to be a joke. Not only had I waited for nearly an hour for my call to get through, but I was placed on hold for over an hour after getting through, and she gave me another number to call. I didn’t want to call another number for the rest of my life, but I did it anyway. Luckily, my call was answered after the second ring.
“Brayden Knight?” a hefty voice answered.
“Yeah. Who’s this?”
“I’m warden Sam Staffen. I hear you're looking for one of my prisoners.”
The man's tone was so domineering I wanted to give him a good crack in the nose. I could tell by the way he talked he was giving Trent a hard time there.
“Yeah. My friend, Trent Norway. His family and I have been trying to locate him for a while. Isn't it protocol to let the family know where a loved one’s being moved?”
“Well,” Sam chuckled, “I suppose it is. Inmates have free will to tell their family whatever they want. However, when you’re traveling from one side of the country to the other, it’s kind of hard to remember to tell anybody anything. Don't you think?”
I was so over the arrogance in Sam’s tone, I hung up on him. It had been confirmed that Trent was in fact at that prison in Florida, that was all I needed to know. As long as we knew where he was, we’d be able to make sure he had money, food, clothes, and a new lawyer. Whatever it was he needed to make his stay comfortable for however long.
I felt like I accomplished something great that day. Many people said that being a firefighter was a great accomplishment in itself, and it was, but I wasn’t completely fulfilled with that. There was something missing in my life, and it had been for a long time. Until that day.
Knowing I would be able to tell Mia that I found Trent made me feel good. It made me feel powerful; like I was getting back to the old me. More so, it made me feel like she would let her guard down a little more.
