Prison Breaks

Stacy Hempstead sat stiffly in the Atlanta courtroom as the federal judge announced her husband's sentence. Next to her, she could hear his mother start to cry, and seconds later when the judge stated he must report within two weeks, her sobbing grew louder. In reality, there was no surprise, as it had all been part of a plea arrangement, but hope is a powerful thing, and until the final gavel fell, they all had prayed for a miracle.

Barton Hempstead had grown up in a lower-middle-class family and from childhood had been a driven individual. Through hard work, he had managed to land a scholarship to a first-rate private university, and upon graduation, he joined a boutique financial firm where he spent the next eight years moving swiftly up the ranks. He was smart, ambitious, focused and ferociously loyal. These traits had served him well throughout his career but ultimately played a key role in his downfall. The company had come under intense scrutiny regarding several federally supported loans used in a community real estate deal. The goal of the project was to reinvigorate a blighted area of town, but it was oozing with conflicts and the supporting documentation had been improperly created. In addition, there was the specter of funds being used to pay-off certain civic leaders. It quickly erupted into a big scandal that was impossible to control and drew the feds in like flies. The ironic aspect was that Barton had only been a peripheral player in the transaction. However, rather than come clean, he initially took a position to defend the firm and by the time he realized his mistake, all the good deals had been cut. The result was that most of his less loyal colleagues received relatively minor sentences while he got hit with twenty-six months in a low-security prison.

Stacy met her future husband through mutual friends two years after graduating from college. After their introduction, they seemed to run into each other often and struck up a friendship that was ultimately converted into a relationship after Barton finally asked her out. Since he was just two years older, they shared many of the same interests, and never lacked for things to do. Eighteen months later, they were married, and two years after that Stacy gave birth to their daughter, Regan. Despite Barton's dedication to his work, which typically involved long hours, the past few years had been a pleasant whirlwind for the young wife.

"I still think you should have told them to stick the deal. Two and a half years is a long time and it wasn't your doing!" Barton's father declared the next day when they were together for dinner.

He was a retired lineman for a large public utility and shared many of the same characteristics as his son.

"Dad, we've been through this. The lawyers said it was the best thing to do," his son replied.

"Damn lawyers. I've never trusted a single one," he countered.

"I hope you're close," his mother said in a strained voice.

"The word is it will be Folkston," Barton responded while patting her shoulder.

"That's a long drive," she replied.

"Enough of this talk. Let's eat," the elder Hempstead said, purposefully changing the conversation.

Despite the well-prepared meal, it couldn't overcome the somber mood. Everyone wanted badly to create an ideal two weeks for Barton, but the harder they tried, the stronger the reality hit home. Then, just two days before he was to report, they learned that he would be assigned to the facility in Texarkana some seven hundred miles away. It was like a kick in the gut to the assembled family and the women spent most of their time crying. Even Barton's older sister, a normally stoic school teacher in Florida who had flown in for the final visit, couldn't hold back her tears.

On a dreary Thursday morning, the newly designated felon reported, and as Stacy and his family looked on, Barton disappeared into the brick building with the heavy iron door clanking loudly behind him. The courtroom had been a tough moment, but this proved to be even harder and it took all her willpower to turn and move towards the car.

The odd choice of location that the federal prison system had selected had thrown them a curveball. It was clearly too far to drive on a consistent basis, which would impact their costs significantly. Their research showed that the closest airport was Shreveport which was an hour's drive away. It meant, that in addition to the airline ticket, a rental car would be required along with a hotel and meals. The cost of Barton's defense had devasted the couple's finances to the point that they had to sell their home and move in with his parents. After talking through different approaches, it was decided that Stacy would visit her husband every month while his parents would make it as often as possible, but on different days so they could maximize the number of visits. Stacy thought it would be impossible to take Regan on every trip, due to the logistics and since she was just a one-year-old but hoped as she got older her visits might become more frequent.

"Are you sure you want to stay with it?" Stacy's dad asked as they talked over the phone.

From the moment of the indictment, he had challenged her about remaining married. He had made it very clear that he was not pleased about a felon as a son-in-law. In truth, he had never gotten along that well with her husband and didn't think they were a good match.

"Dad, come on. Please don't start this again. I...I can't abandon him. It would be so unfair," she replied.

"Seems he wasn't thinking about that when..." he started.

"Please stop," she interjected.

"Okay, honey. I'll put your mom on now, but at least think about it," he said.

Stacy's mom and dad lived in a mid-sized town in Virginia. Her father was partnered with two other men in an accounting practice while her mother worked as an elementary school teacher. Numerous times, they had offered financial assistance and suggested she move home with the baby. It had been a kind and somewhat appealing gesture. However, Stacy knew that they were already helping her brother start a business, so she turned it down. Plus, she had recently been able to land a decent marketing job with a regional distribution company that would help provide for her the needs of mother and daughter while her husband was away.

Visiting days at the facility were Saturday and Sunday and Stacy made sure that she was ready for the first weekend, which involved extensive paperwork. She knew that suddenly being locked up would be a traumatic event for her husband and wanted to make sure he saw a friendly face as soon as possible. So, early on Saturday morning, she made her way to the airport and after a short flight, she landed in Shreveport. From there, it was a one-hour drive and she arrived at the prison just past noon. Making sure to follow the rules to the letter, she went through security and was directed to the visiting room which was filled with well over a hundred people. It took another twenty minutes for Barton to appear, and in that time, she took notice of those around her. There were many families present, including small children, but she also spotted numerous one-on-one situations. All races were represented, and she surmised by the look of some of the people that they were part of a white-collar situation just like her.

The one thing she hadn't expected was the leering looks she got from many of the men, both visitors, and inmates. Stacy, a slender blond, was 5'7" tall, with green eyes and shapely C-cup breasts. She had worked hard to rid herself of her pregnancy weight and had made it to within three pounds, which had settled on her hips, giving her a more mature look. She had purposefully dressed in jeans and a simple long-sleeved blouse to be nondescript, but it didn't appear to matter.

"Stacy," she heard her husband's voice and turning she saw him moving towards her spot.

"Honey," she replied and rose to give him an allowable kiss.

Then, holding hands, they sat, and for the next hour, chatted about the baby and family. She showed him some recent photos she had taken and some coloring Regan had made. She tried to steer clear of asking him any questions about the conditions in the prison, but as the conversation began to die, she finally broached the subject.

"How...I mean...what's it like?" she asked.

"Boring...more than anything, it's just boring," he replied.

"Do you have anyone to talk to?" she probed.

"A couple of people, a couple are okay," he answered vaguely, then added, "There is a group of guys kind of in the same boat. In that group, there are a few."

"Is there anything you need?" Stacy asked.

Instantly, her husband broke out in a smile and said softly, "You."

It made her blush and she couldn't help glancing around to see if anyone noticed. However, her fear quickly faded and a smile filled her face. It was a subject that had come to the forefront of her mind in the last week. As a dating and then married couple, they had enjoyed an active sex life, and before she met her husband, she had always seemed to be in a committed, intimate relationship. In total, she had experienced five men, including her husband, and since high school had rarely gone more than a few months without sex. So, she had begun to consider how best to deal with the lengthy interval. She had never been big on masturbation but now wondered if it was something she needed to reconsider.

"Me, too," she whispered back.

After an hour and a half, with tears welling in her eyes, she left, not wanting to burn too much of his monthly time allotment. Through an internet search, she had located a motel not too far away that met her budget, and twenty minutes later, she had checked in and was driving towards the room. Access was from the outside and she was on the first floor, so she was able to park close. As soon as she opened the door, she knew it had met her low expectations as a musty smell hit her as she took in the drab interior. In addition, an old window A/C unit was growling loudly so she decided to just turn it off. Rationalizing that all she needed was a place to sleep before she returned to Shreveport for the flight back, she accepted the situation and flopped onto one of the two queen-sized beds.

In Atlanta, the demands of her child, in-laws, and work kept her from dwelling too much on the situation. However, now all alone and nervous about venturing out, she had little else to do and it wasn't long before she was staring at the ceiling, thinking about how much everything had changed. She knew their upwardly mobile lifestyle was over and that it would be fortunate if her husband was able to find any meaningful professional employment. Stacy wasn't selfish and didn't need a lot of flashy possessions, although she had to admit she had grown comfortable with their financial position. To her, it was more about how the money brought safety and security, removing many anxieties. As the thoughts churned in her head, for just a moment, she thought about her father's words, and whether she should stay the course.

Later, feeling quite hungry, she did go out to a fast food joint, picked up a chicken sandwich and returned to her room just before dusk. After a fitful sleep, she was up early and made the drive back to the airport where she camped in the terminal and sipped coffee for several hours until her flight was called.

A month later, she was back and this time she brought their daughter, knowing that Barton wanted very much to see her. She almost started crying when she saw his eyes as he spotted the baby, and both of them struggled to end the visit. Then, it was back to the same cheap motel where Stacy played with the child and watched TV until both drifted to sleep.

Two weeks later, her husband's parents made the trip having finally scraped together enough money. When they returned, she could see the pain in her mother-in-law's eyes, and it made her wonder if the older woman was up to the ordeal. Since the sentencing, she had actually recovered some, but the visit took her back, and for the next few days she shuffled around the house, sometimes sobbing softly.

"Hey," a woman about her age said to Stacy as they waited to enter the visiting area. After making eye contact, she added, "I saw you here before."

It had been a month since her visit with Regan, and once again, the young wife had made the trek by herself for the visit. She looked the woman over and saw that she was an inch or so shorter than her, a bit heavier and had strawberry blonde hair that she wore shoulder length. She was wearing jeans with a simple pullover top and on her right arm, she could see a tattoo that disappeared beneath the sleeve.

"Hi," the young wife replied, not wanting to appear rude.

"This sucks, doesn't it," the girl replied in a thick, country accent.

For the next few minutes, the two women talked, and in the process, they explained to each other the nature of their husband's offense. Stacy wasn't sure she understood completely what the woman was trying to say, although it sounded like her husband had been convicted of a drug crime and since he cooperated, he got a reduced sentence.

"I'm Natalie and I'm from Dallas," the woman offered.

"Stacy, from Atlanta," she replied.

"That's a long way, do you spend the night?" Natalie asked.

"Yes," she answered, although she wasn't sure it was the right thing to do.

At that moment, they were let in and the conversation ended. With a smile and a nod, they split and Stacy moved towards the table where the previous meetings had occurred.

"Hi, honey," she heard almost thirty minutes later.

Looking up, she saw Barton stepping towards her and she rose so they could exchange a brief hug before sitting down. Like before, she caught him up on Regan and his family, with lots of talk about how his mother was doing. Then, his voice turned into a whisper and he started becoming intimate with his words. She could see the fire in his eyes and it wasn't long before she felt her nipples stiffen as a tickling sensation started between her legs.

"This is so hard," she whined after listening to him tell her all the things he wanted to do.

"I know...it drives me crazy," Barton answered, and then in an even lower voice, asked, "Have you done... anything?"

She knew what he meant and the question made her blush deeply, and then, with a little giggle, she replied, "No...not yet..."

"You should. So, you don't go crazy, and then next time you can tell me about it," he said.

"Okay..." she whispered back, knowing what he really wanted was some naughty talk from her.

They continued their chat for another twenty minutes and then said their goodbyes. Stacy headed for the motel, and after checking in and dropping her bag, she decided to go to the nearby convenience store for a soda and some gum. She had just stepped out of the small rental car when Natalie emerged through the doors with a pack of cigarettes in her hand.

"Hey," she said as she had at the prison.

"Hi, Natalie," Stacy answered.

"Are you staying near here?" the young woman asked in her deep drawl.

"The Big Sky Motel down the street," she replied.

"Shit, that place is a dump," Natalie said with her face showing concern.

"Yes, it is," Stacy replied, feeling some shame.

"Okay, well..." she started, and then after a pause, a smile filled her face and she asked, "You want to get a drink? I mean not right now, but later. There's a bar down the road that ain't bad and it has really cheap drinks."

"I don't know..." the young mother started, but was cut off.

"Come on! It's better than sitting around watching shitty TV," Natalie pushed.

Stacy didn't say yes, but she agreed to think about it and they discussed a time if she decided to come out. Then, she headed back to the motel, and it wasn't long before the comment about watching lousy TV began to resonate. In truth, she hated sitting in the dreary room but lacked the courage and the money to venture out. She knew that in normal circumstances Natalie wouldn't be someone she would do things with, but these weren't normal times, and since they shared similar fates, it made the idea more appealing.

It was thirty minutes past the designated meeting time when the young wife finally decided to leave the motel room and meet her new acquaintance. It took her some time to get ready, so when she arrived at the bar, she was over an hour late. It was at one end of a long strip shopping center and the area near the entrance was filled with cars forcing Stacy to park some distance away. She had anticipated something less lively, and for almost a minute she sat in the car debating whether to enter. Finally, with a deep sigh, she opened the car door and forced herself to move.

Country music hit her as she got close to the door, and seconds later she was inside the crowded space looking for Natalie. Against the back wall, a band played on an elevated stage, with a dance floor in front, and to her right was a long bar that ran the length of the building. Hoping to be inconspicuous, she moved to a place at the end of the counter, while searching the crowd. She couldn't spot her new friend, so she slowly began walking the length of the bar, avoiding eye contact from numerous men along the way. Finally, halfway down, she spotted Natalie in an animated conversation with a large man wearing a hat. Reluctant to interrupt, she stood several feet away until she was spotted and then was quickly waved over.

"Hey girl!" Natalie exclaimed over the music.

"Hi," the young mother answered meekly.

"Dale, get my friend a drink," she told the man standing with her.

After asking what she wanted, he turned and began an attempt to get the bartender's attention while the two women connected. They spoke briefly about the day at the prison, with Stacy concerned that others might hear before Dale turned and handed her a plastic cup. Then, the discussion turned to lighter topics, and for the next few minutes, the three of them engaged in friendly banter. Stacy could tell by their body language that there was something between them, which piqued her interest, although she dared not ask.

Natalie was wearing tight jeans, a simple pullover top, and sandals. Dale was in jeans as well and wore an un-tucked buttoned shirt and boots. On every visit, Stacy, for some reason, would pack a nice outfit, and she had elected to wear it for the evening. It consisted of slacks, a nice blouse, and low heels, which made her over-dressed compared to most of the other patrons.

"He's a friend," Natalie said when Dale left them to visit the bathroom.

She was fighting back a smile, which indicated it was more than mere friendship, and it emboldened Stacy to probe.

"How long have you known him?" she asked, thinking it was a safe query.

"For a while. Look, you know, it gets lonely and...you know," she replied.

"Yes, I didn't mean to get personal," Stacy followed.

"He's a good man. A nice guy, and look...well, we spend some together when I come out," she added, becoming bolder as she spoke.

"Okay," the young wife responded, unsure what else to say.

With that, they entered into an awkward silence, and as soon as Dale arrived, he took Natalie's hand and led her to the dance floor. Stacy, thinking about the adultery she was witnessing, considered leaving, but the idea of returning to the dingy motel room was not appealing. Plus, she realized it was the first time she had been out since her husband's incarceration. It felt good to her to be amongst people even with the situation with her new acquaintance. Several times, she noticed men trying to make eye contact, which made her nervous, so she turned to face the bar and kept her eyes directed downward until the couple returned.