Read Utopian Day Page 4


  James showed up for his counseling appointment early and sat out in the waiting area. He wasn't quite sure what to expect and wondered if he was going to be asked to lay down on a couch and talk about his childhood or something. It wasn't long before the door to the counselor's office opened and Greg walked out to greet him. He held out his hand to shake and James reciprocated.

  "Good afternoon, James. Good to see you. Come on in."

  As he spoke, Dr. Greg Thompson stepped aside and motioned with his hand towards the open door with a slight deprecating bow. James entered the small office, seating himself in one of the two comfortably cushioned lounge chairs which faced each other. Dr. Thompson followed him, closing the door before positioning himself in the remaining chair.

  "So, James," Dr. Thompson began. "It's been almost a week since you arrived here in Utopia. What do you think?"

  James was guarded as he considered his reply. He wasn't accustomed to prison employees being so nice. For that matter, he wasn't accustomed to speaking to a counselor either. It felt strange.

  "It's much nicer than where I came from," he replied.

  "Yeah, I bet it is indeed," Dr. Thompson continued. "What do you think about the five practices - the exercise, the group and individual sessions, the reading, the hobby, the community service...?"

  "It's o.k. It beats being stuck in a jail cell all day, that's for sure."

  "What are you reading?"

  "An autobiography of Benjamin Franklin."

  "Is it enjoyable? Do you like it?"

  "I'm not much of a reader, so I get distracted when I'm reading, but so far I like it. It's not like anything I read in school. I mean, I've heard about Benjamin Franklin, but mostly about what he did in the American Revolution. I never heard about the rest of his life before."

  "Was there anything meaningful that you learned? Anything that you learned about his life that inspired you or caused you to change the way you think about something?"

  James looked over at a plant that was sitting on top of a bookshelf in the corner.

  "Yeah. He said something that stuck with me. He said, 'The most acceptable service of God is doing good to man.' He seemed to do a lot of things that helped other people. He started a library, started a fire department, and a whole lot of other things that I never knew about. I guess I never thought of getting up in the morning and thinking about how I can help out other people a whole lot, not since my mom died anyway."

  "Do you think that would be a better way to live than the way you have been living?"

  James looked at Dr. Thompson suspiciously.

  "I know what you're trying to do. You're trying to get me to admit that the way I've been living is the wrong way and that I need to change. Well, I know that already. It's just not that easy. I like nice things. I like to live a certain way and I can't exactly get a great job with a background as a bank robber."

  "Do you want to change, James?"

  Dr. Thompson let the sentence hang in the air and waited for James to reply. He didn't say it judgmentally or in an accusing way. The question disarmed James and found its way in, past the defensiveness he often wore as a shield when other people asked him questions he didn't want to answer. It was something he had thought a lot about since getting sent back to jail.

  "Yes... I do."

  Again Dr. Thompson left the empty space alone and let James' response linger in the room.

  "Good," the doctor replied. "Very good."

  Later that afternoon, it was time to work on his official hobby. James went to the workshop with J.T. and a few of the other inmates who also worked on their hobbies there. As he entered the door to the warehouse, there was a box on the floor. A white sheet of paper was taped to the box with his name scrawled across it. He opened it up and found a bicycle manual and a set of tools, along with some other supplies. He smiled as he picked up the box and made his way back to where the bicycles were stored.

  Earlier in the week, he had filled out the required form indicating he would like to fix up the bikes he'd seen in the workshop as his hobby. He had received notice that his hobby was approved, but no one had said anything about getting him a set of tools or a manual. This was definitely not like the prisons he had been in before, he mused to himself as he began rolling out the first bicycle on the rack so he could get a better look at it.

  It was a bit rusty, the tires were flat, and the chain had been de-railed. It was painted white and green and had silver fenders over the tires. He found a manual bicycle pump at the end of the row of bicycles and pumped up the tires. The tires had the small cracks in the rubber that were telltale signs of dry rot, but they seemed to be holding air for now. He pressed down on the tires, slightly impressed that they didn't pop outright.

  He rummaged around in the box of supplies and found a can of lubricant spray, which he sprayed on the chain after he re-mounted it on the gear cogs. He straddled the bicycle and pushed off tentatively, guarding against a sudden tire blowout. After coasting a few feet without a mishap, he managed to pedal down to the end of the aisle. He turned the bike around and rode back down to the other end. He smiled to himself as he dismounted, putting down the kick-stand and standing back to admire his handiwork. He didn't know why they had the crazy rules they had, but he was beginning to actually like this place.

  Chapter Ten

  In the weeks since his first encounter with Laura, James had continued to be attracted to her. Her fiery personality reminded him of his mother before she got sick. As they began the morning run, James ran a respectful distance behind Laura, making certain not to get too close to what he had begun to consider as her 'no trespassing' zone. He had noticed some days that she would run faster than others, and today was one of the faster-paced days. Though he had never been much of a runner, he was beginning to develop a bit of a taste for it through the daily repetition of morning exercises.

  He kept pace with Laura for the whole mile, maintaining about a ten yard distance behind her until she completed the prescribed mile course. He slowed to a walk once the run was complete and he was headed to his room to change for work, when suddenly Laura wheeled around and came to within a few feet of him, glaring at him as she approached.

  "Stop following me!" she shouted.

  "Whoa, hey, what's the problem?" James replied as he put his hands up shoulder-high in a gesture of surrender.

  She shoved a finger in his direction before saying, "You've been shadowing me for weeks and I'm over it!"

  "I didn't know it was bugging you, o.k.?"

  "No, it's not o.k.!"

  Laura stepped closer and James could feel the low-grade electrical buzz of the device in his neck that began whenever two of the inmates passed too close to one another in a restricted zone. He took a step backwards and felt the buzz subside.

  "Hey, watch out, you're getting too close," he warned.

  "Too close?! That's exactly what you are, too close! I'll show you what happens when you get too close to me!"

  Without another word, Laura ran directly at James at full speed. James began running backwards and attempted to turn around and run, but he wasn't fast enough. The last thing he remembered before he blacked out was the searing pain of the most intense shock of his life.

  James awoke to find himself lying on a hospital bed, dressed in a hospital gown. He had the most intense headache he had ever felt and immediately closed his eyes, grimacing against the pain he felt. About ten painful minutes later, Tony, the facility EMT, came into the room with a glass of water and two pills that he held out to James.

  "Here, take these. They're migraine pills. Bite down on them before you swallow them and they'll make the pain stop quicker."

  James took the pills and the water, doing as he was instructed before handing the empty glass back to the EMT. Tony offered his hand to James.

  "Name's Tony."

  James shook his hand without saying anything. Tony c
ontinued.

  "The edge of the headache will wear off in about fifteen minutes if you're like most." He nodded towards a chair by the door where a plastic bag was placed. "Your clothes are in there. You'll need to wash them. The body loses bladder control when the shock hits. There are some scrubs underneath the bag you can wear back to your room to change."

  "What's going to happen to me?"

  "You mean are you going to be shipped out of here? No worries. Everything is caught on video around here. It was clear you didn't start anything and tried to get out of the situation. You're good to go."

  "What about Laura?" James whispered, trying not to agitate his throbbing head any more than necessary.

  "Well, that's another story. The docs will decide that. She's obviously one ticked off lady. I give her a 50/50 chance either way. They really don't want to send anyone home if they can avoid it. Makes them and the program look bad. I'll come back in ten to escort you back to town."

  Laura had woken up in a hospital bed. The first thing she'd noticed besides the intense headache was that her hands and feet were in restraints. A few minutes after she'd woken up, Tony had come in and offered her two migraine pills, putting them in her mouth and giving her a drink through a straw. It had been about thirty minutes since then. She wondered what was going to happen next. A few minutes later, Sheila, the women's staff counselor, came in the room and sat down beside her on the bed. Laura looked out the window, not wanting to look Sheila in the face.

  "I know I blew it," Laura said.

  "You think?" Sheila responded. She waited for Laura to continue.

  "I just couldn't stand him hitting on me like that."

  "So that's what it was, was it?"

  Sheila waited again for Laura to speak. Laura's eyes started to tear up, and when she spoke next, there was a different kind of pain in her voice.

  "I miss him. I miss him so much."

  "It's not James' fault, you know."

  "I know. But every time I see him, I think of Paul and how Paul should be here instead of him."

  "So you turned your anger about Paul's death onto James."

  "Yeah. I guess I did."

  "Did it help?"

  There was a long pause. Tears were slowly making their way down Laura's cheeks. She began moving her head from side to side.

  Sheila let out a long sigh before she continued.

  "I'm going to try to keep you here, Laura, but you have to promise me you won't do something like this again."

  Laura turned and looked at Sheila.

  "O.k.," she replied.

  Sheila placed a motherly hand on Laura's forehead and smoothed the hair to one side that had fallen down over Laura's eyes before turning to leave. As she was heading out the door, Laura spoke.

  "Sheila?"

  Sheila stopped and turned towards the bed, "Yes?"

  "Thanks for not giving up on me."

  Sheila smiled slightly and nodded at Laura before turning and walking out the door.

  Chapter Eleven

  James worked steadily in doing his part on the assembly line, but his mind was somewhere else. His job was simple enough that he could perform it while thinking on other things without too much chance of making a mistake. During a break at the water cooler as he leaned against a wall, away from the others, J.T. wandered over in his direction.

  "What's on your mind?" J.T. inquired.

  James' eyes were staring off into space and J.T.'s question brought his focus back into the room. "Just thinking about stuff," he replied.

  "Look, if you don't want to talk, fine by me, just tell me and I'll buzz off. But if you want to get something off of your chest, I can listen," J.T. continued.

  "This whole thing... being here in Utopia... I've had some time to think about my life. The counseling, the reading, all of it.... I guess I have a different perspective now than I did when I came here."

  "How's that?" J.T. responded.

  James started shaking his head from side to side as he continued. "I've made a lot of stupid mistakes. I've been doing it all wrong."

  "What exactly do you mean by that?"

  "I've been living life wrong. When my mom died, I was angry. I took it out on everybody and I didn't listen to the people who tried to help me. I let that anger lead me to a bad place and did some really stupid things. I took what I wanted because I thought I deserved it and I had the power to take it. I never thought about what my actions might be doing to somebody else... and now I'm here... in prison.... I don't want to live that way anymore."

  "Well, James," J.T. replied, "you don't have to. You can learn to live a different way. You know, you and I are a lot alike. Before I was convicted, I lived in much the same way you described. I took what didn't belong to me because I thought I deserved it and I had the ability to take it. Then I came here. It took me a few years being here and soaking up the lessons of this place before I began to get it. But when I did, it wasn't long before I came to the same conclusion you just did. Since then, I've been working my program as best I can, and I can tell I'm really changing on the inside, where it counts. You can change, too, James."

  The automated voice came over the speakers.

  "Now is the time to return to your workstation... Now is the time to return to your workstation."

  James went back to work and, for the rest of the day, he kept thinking about what J.T. had said and about that twelve step statement he heard in the first group session he'd attended: We admitted we were powerless over our destructive, compulsive behaviors and that our lives had become unmanageable. He wasn't certain how he could change, but he was sure of one thing; his life had certainly become unmanageable and he wanted to do whatever it took to learn to live a better way.

  Later that evening at the library, James sat down at the computer terminal and prepared to take his first book exam. He had read up on the process in the manual the night before in his room. After reading whatever book the prisoner chose, he or she had to complete an online assessment to prove they had actually read the book. The test was to be comprised of four multiple choice questions and a short answer question at the end, asking what they had learned from reading the book. He punched in his user ID and password as they had been printed in the manual, then punched in the code on the back of the book he had been reading. The questions popped up on the screen:

  When Benjamin Franklin was twelve years old, what profession did he begin:

  __ Candle-maker

  __ Printer

  __ Painter

  __ Farmer

  James selected 'Printer' and moved on to the next question.

  About the year 1730, Benjamin Franklin started the first one of these in the American colonies:

  __ Newspaper

  __ Insurance company

  __ Public library

  __ Firearms manufacturer

  James was fairly certain it was either 'newspaper' or 'public library'. He was glad this was an open book test. After spending a few minutes thumbing through the book, he located the answer. He selected 'public library', and continued to the next question.

  Which of the following are descriptions that Franklin gave among his list of thirteen virtues:

  __ "Speak not but what may benefit others or yourself; avoid trifling conversation."

  __ "Lose no time; be always employ'd in something useful; cut off all unnecessary actions."

  __ "Wrong none by doing injuries, or omitting the benefits that are your duty."

  __ All of the above.

  He thumbed through the book for a few minutes and eventually found the section where the thirteen virtues were listed. He found all of the quotations on the same page and selected 'all of the above' from the list of answers.

  Benjamin Franklin started the first one of these in Philadelphia:

  __ A fire station named "Union Fire Company"

  __ A restaurant named "The Golden Eagle Tavern"

/>   __ A hunting club named "Foxglove Hunting Club"

  __ A gambling club named "The Gaming Diversions Association"

  He selected the fire station and continued to the last question.

  What have you learned by reading this book:

  James looked at the last question and sat back in his chair. After some consideration, he leaned in towards the monitor and began pecking out his response on the keyboard:

  Benjamin Franklin started life out without much education. He read a lot, tried to learn as much as he could that would help him move ahead in life, and didn't spend much time getting angry over things other people did to him that were wrong. He also did a lot of things that helped other people. I would like to be more like him in the future.

  When he was done typing his answer, James clicked on the "submit answers" icon on the screen. Immediately, his score flashed in front of him:

  Congratulations! You scored 100%

  He smiled to himself. "That wasn't so bad," he thought. He looked up at the clock on the wall. He still had forty-five minutes left before they were sent back to their rooms for the night. He picked up the journal that Dr. Thompson had given to him during their first session together. He flipped to the page where he had written down the title of the book that Dr. Thompson had recommended he read next, Some Fruits of Solitude by William Penn.

  He selected the library catalog program on the computer and typed in the book title, locating the book location code and writing it down in his journal. Then he went and found the book on the shelf. It was another thin book, which made him wonder what Dr. Thompson was thinking about his reading abilities.

  He pulled the book off of the shelf and found a good spot to begin reading. It was a bit difficult at first because some of the words the author used had been spelled differently back when the book was written. It caused him to read more slowly than usual. However, it wasn't long until he read something that hit him like a ton of bricks. He read it again and again, letting it soak in to his mind. Then he opened up his journal and began copying the words down so he could read them again later: