Chapter 38. The Crestview Motor Lodge

I wrote another letter to the D.A.’s office hoping to find out what my charges were and if a court date was scheduled or if anyone knew I was in the County of Okaloosa’s custody. I sent it out with the regular mail but, again, never got an answer. I suspected that my letter never left the jail. I caught Ray while he had been making his rounds with the dinner trays.

I told him my problem… my suspicions about the mail and asked, “Ray, you get visitors, can you take a letter with you and have you mom mail it for me?” It was a stretch, but I had to try something.

“Yeah, I can do that. Look, I got an early release for next week too. Good behavior and all that. I owe you, you know, ‘cause I snitched you out and all. I’ll be staying at this motel up the highway from the jail. You can’t miss it. If you need a place to stay a few days, I can introduce you to Mrs. N… that’s what we call her. She might let you a room for doin’ odd jobs.”

It amused me that Ray had to cover for an act of kindness by asserting that he owed me a favor, I quipped, "I“Ray, you mean, Mrs. N owns an Inn?”

“Yeah, never thought of it that way.”

 It worked. The response was immediate. I had the bullpen barber give me a haircut using a comb and razor and a week later I was sitting in the front row before a judge at the Okaloosa County Courthouse with a half-dozen other inmates. The judge got to my case last and somberly read the charges. It seemed like the file had several pages as he flipped and read each one carefully. He nodded to the court stenographer and, in a distinguished Southern Drawl, said, “Mrs. Nobel, my remarks will be off the record until we proceed, if you please.”

There are women that must have had the look of a matron from the day they stepped out of the crib and Mrs. Nobel was one of these. She posed her delicate fingers over the keyboard and smiled.

“Mr. McGee, I see you gave a young girl, an under-aged girl, some LSD while you were under the influence yourself. That’s what I see your charges are. I don’t want any explanations or excuses and we won’t be entering a plea. Just give me a yes or no. Is that correct?

I envisioned the rest of the charges, possession of drugs for sale and rape, to follow and was ready to spend the rest of my life on a chain gang like Cool Hand Luke. I answered, “Yes, sir.”

“Yes or no, was your time incarcerated usefully employed?”

I had to make up something quick, I stuttered, “Er- yes? I-I read the bible…” I knew it wasn’t good enough the second the words left my lips.

He cut me off sharply, “I said yes or no, Mr. McGee, I doesn’t matter a whit to me what you read. Answer my question.”

Mrs. Nobel snickered.

Unsure of what he was fishing for, I answered with a tinge of “Uh, yes.”

“Don’t answer me with a question, Mr. McGee.”

“Yes.”

There was no mention of. It came to one charge for under the influence of an illegal substance, and another for contributing to the delinquency of a minor.

The judge looked down over his reading glasses and asked, “Mr. McGee, it isn’t illegal to be a liar off-the-record. What will you do if I release you today, Mr. McGee? You may answer in full.”

“Your honor, I’ll get as far away from the State of Florida as I possibly can.”

“And, where would that be?”

“My family’s in Eastern Washington, but honestly, your Honor, I’d go to Nome, Alaska, if I could get out of here.”

The judge made a note, stifled a laugh, and then read off the sentence.

“Okay, Mrs. Nobel, Court’s in session.”

He read the two misdemeanor charges. I pled guilty, and he ordered two concurrent ninety-day sentences and time served for each offence, then, “Adieu, Mr. McGee. I won’t be so kind the next time I see you.”

“Yes sir.”

It was that simple. I was released from jail later that afternoon with the worn out blue jeans I’d been wearing when arrested, no belt, a pair of thin-soled jailhouse deck shoes and a tee-shirt. I walked out to the road holding my pants up with one-hand and took a left up the hill to the Crestview Motor Lodge where Ray was staying. The guilt for what I’d done with Daphne had faded while in jail but came back as I walked up the hill. It hit me so hard that I damned near wanted to turn back. The first weeks remorse was dampened by the jailhouse routine of morning meal time; playing dominos in the bullpen, waiting for lunch baloney sandwiches, trading them for smokes, waiting eagerly for dinner, fighting boredom, lights out, bed checks, and the cavalcade of petty misdemeanors and major capital crimes passing through. Mostly they were burglars, shop lifters, and car thieves, and dope dealers. Though one was a suspected serial killer after a traffic stop and search revealed polaroids of missing girls in his car trunk. He didn’t talk about it but I knew a similar shame on a far less severe level.

The motor lodge was a remnant from the days before I-10 by-passed the area. There was a main house and about a half-dozen units that made up the motel. The house had a two-story steeply-gabled roof at the entrance to the property. It served as the residence of Mrs. Nobel and her two daughters. The office of the motel was a small room on the side of the house with a half-door and sliding glass window facing the units.

Ray brought me in the house to meet Mrs. N, “Ma’am, this is the guy I told you about. He’s going to need a place to stay and some work until he can leave town.”

Mrs. N was the big woman of about fifty… She was the Court Stenographer Mrs, Nobel. who certainly was nobody’s fool.

“We’ve met, haven’t we Mr. McGee. She scrutinized me as we sat across from each other at the dining room table. Her eyes drilled into mine and held them firm as she spoke deliberately, “I was once a pastor of the Pentecostal Christian Fellowship. I am still a Christian that believes a man can change. As you know, I am also the court stenographer for our county. When Ray told me about you, I checked with some friends in the department. I know what you were in jail for and what you weren’t charged with. I know what you are capable of. If you so much as do anything more than a handshake with either of my daughters, you will wish you were back in jail. Do you understand me?”

“Yes. Ma’am,” I was sure as hell not going to cross this woman, “I have a Bible and I have been reading it.”

Ray hadn’t told me anything about the daughters.

“Let me say one thing about that Bible, Max. it's just another book you won’t ever understand without a change of heart. I know scoundrels and bushwhackers of every race and creed that know that Bible from Genesis to the last words in Revelations. But to them it's just a tool they use to swindle widows and old maids. Don’t try to blow smoke up my butt about the Bible. I was a bartender and a barfly before I was ever a Preacher or a Court Stenographer. You can’t hustle an old hustler.”

I dared not to fidget because this woman’s eyes were still bearing down on me. I did look down at my hands in resignation and waited for her to change her mind and tell me to get the Hell out of her sight.

“Do you drink?” She asked casually.

I looked back up. Damn, her eyes were still riveted on mine. “Well, I don’t know what to say. See, all the trouble I’ve been in always has something to do with drinking.”

“Well, then have a soda.” She called. “Jenifer, Alicia… come on down and meet Mr. McGee, Max.”

I watched as the two girls came in the room. The older one, Jenifer, was a slim sixteen and Alicia was a chubby thirteen.

“Alicia, get Max a soda from the fridge.”

Mrs. Nobel took her eyes off of me and looked over at Ray, saying, “Max, you will be doing the maintenance chores around the place for room and board with Ray. You can take on day labor jobs for spending money. My older brother, Buddy, will need your help around his place too.”

I was relieved that Mrs. Nobel. had finally taken her eyes off  me as I got up to take my leave. I offer my thanks, “I appreciate your help.”

“You’re welcome, Max,” she paused a minute and then locked her eyes on mine once more before she spoke, “If I catch you drinking you're on your own. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”