The Orange Jumpsuit - Part 2

I tried to ignore his desolate expression, his sunken bloodshot eyes and his messy hair. I tried to ignore the bright orange suit that covered him from neck to toe, a stark contradiction to the morbid melancholy of the death row. It was like a sick joke played on every inmate, a hysterical clown announcing the doom of each murderer or rapist.

For my brother, it was his Sanbenito. The material form to the taint that had now defined his life.

I cleared my throat, and shuffled the papers in my hands, trying to look purposeful with my visit.

"I looked into the original employment letters and the letters that the Board had sent you before you found out."
He nodded slightly. "And?"

"They seem pretty clean."

He grunted. "I told you, they've got it all covered. Their plan B is as perfect as A."

I winced at the bitterness with which he said "perfect" and decided to go back to staring at my papers.

"Even if we could prove their involvement and reduce the blame for the drug scandal, i would still be here. I would still die."

"We could plead guilty to the rest and appeal for life imprisonment." I said. But the intended tone of hope was destroyed by the hopelessness of the statement itself.

He sighed and got to his feet, taking tiny strides, as far as the chains allowed him.

"Trey, i killed those people. No matter what i do, i'm still guilty as hell. The evidence is too legit, and you know it. So why are you even doing this." His voice was trembling.

I looked away, unable to bear his gaze. I stopped fumbling with the papers, and just dropped them weakly to the table.

He was right. No matter how much i wanted to believe that Dom was innocent and that he was set up, i wasn't fooling anybody. And i definitely couldn't fool a jury.

He began pacing up and down the room behind me. There was silence, save for the dull thud of his feet and the soft clinking of his chains.

"So what now." I heard his shaky voice behind me.

I didn't reply. I didn't know what to say. I never knew what to say. It was always him who did the guiding. Always him who told me in his calm voice that what i was doing was wrong. He seemed so righteous in everything he said. And now here he was asking for my guidance, in his desperate tones. I did not have the power to handle such a reversal of roles.

I heard the clinging stop suddenly.

"I don't want to die Trey."

But he said it in an oddly calm, dispassionate voice. Almost like the old days.

I did not look back. Instead i simply focused on a particular speck of dirt that had settled itself onto the papers on the desk. All i managed to say was. "I know."

Then i heard a sudden shuffle of feet behind me, the chains making a loud clang. Before i could turn around, i felt a sharp pain at the back of my head. My eyes watered as i blacked out and fell limp onto the table.

******************

I batted my eyelids as i regained consciousness. My head felt like it got hit by a truck. I groaned as i raised my temple off the dusty wood and blinked at the sunlight. So it was still morning.

The throbbing on the back of my head made me wince with pain. He hit me!

I glanced around the room and noticed the figure at the end of the table through blurred vision.

It was Dom, looking down at me. He was moving very quickly, putting on some clothes. I blinked again. I recognized the 60 dollar suit that i had bought a six years ago in celebration of passing that bar.
I breathed in heavily, frantically looking at my arms and legs. Orange, everywhere.

The Sanbenito had been passed on. My hands had the weight of the chains bearing me down to the table. I realized what he had done and tried to shout out.

"Wha..what are you doing!"

Dominic strode up to the table and bent closer. He bore a pained expression, but he moved with a calculated ease. He removed my watch and clasped it onto his own hand.

"I'm sorry Trey. I really am." He whispered as he ran his hands through his hair, straightening the stray curls that fell on his forehead. "But everything is going to be alright." He said, patting me on my sore head.

I tried to stand up, but my heavy head pulled me down.

"HEY! DOM! Don't do this!"

"DOM! Are you CRAZY?!".

I yelled as loud as i could. At least maybe the guard would hear me. "DOMINIC!"

But the metal door clanged shut behind him.

I heard another open behind me, revealing a burly guard. He walked up to me and grabbed my arms, dragging me to my feet. I struggled at first, trying to mumble out a protest.

But all seemed to fall on deaf ears. He simply forced me to the door and pushed me into another tube-light lit corridor. This can't be happening.

My eyes adjusted to the dim lit corridors that had always sickened me. I couldn't stop breathing heavily as i stared at the orange taint that had now taken over my body.

This cannot be happening!

But it was. I was quietly escorted into my, Dom's, cell and left to my own screaming. I ran to the barred door and banged at it with my free hands, cringing as my smooth skin collided with the rough metal around the bar. I don't belong here!

"I'm Trey! Trey Castelino! You've got the WRONG GUY!" My terrified voice reverberated around the tiny cell, and i realised that i was alone now.

Nothing worked. As i found out a few hours later. "I" had been shouting the very same thing for almost a whole week now. And now I was the one with the robe of shame, the one thing that differentiated me and Dom. I was alone.