Inmate

Three o'clock this morning. John was sitting against the front of his bed, hands on the bars, rattling them like he was a goddamned prisoner. And screaming. What was he screaming?
 

"My lawyer screwed me over!"
 

"It was dude's car! I didn't know that stuff was in the trunk!"
 

"I didn't have a gun! I didn't know they were going to rob the place!"
 

This morning Sonya and I were staggering around. John was sitting in bed, hands on the bars again, and grinning. I looked at Sonya.
 

"Free the River Ridge One."