"Tomorrow?!"
"Yes, tomorrow Sweetie."
"But.
Tomorrow
!?" I repeated incredulously, refusing to believe what I was hearing.
"I keep sayin' it. Tomorrow Emmylou. Now go finish preparin' your room."
"But Ma, I thought you said Daddy was locked away forever. Never comin' outa jail for the rest of his life!"
"Well I was wrong Sweetie. This here letter says nine am tomorrow. Collect from Florida Maximum Security Visitor Center. Here, read it."
I couldn't believe it! My Daddy was coming out of jail. I'd never even met him before but I was so excited that I could feel tingles through my skin and butterflies in my tummy. I looked around our little house and one by one set my eyes upon the photographs of my Daddy that adorned the walls. The photos were all old, faded and they'd been in place for as long as I could remember. The images all depicted him alone, or standing alongside my Ma when they were young. She looked beautiful with her long brown hair, and Daddy stood proud with his tanned skin, strong body, dark mane and broad grin.
I could hardly contain myself but I followed Ma's orders and turned to the store room which would become my room when Daddy moved into Ma's bed. It was a tiny room that barely accommodated a single mattress, but at least it was a roof over my head. We didn't have much money, but we had family, and family always sticks together.
That night I went to bed beside Ma for the last time. Daddy would be back tomorrow and he'd take his rightful place in the master bed with Momma. I squirmed between the sheets, so excited that at last I'd meet him and have him home with us.
But I could not sleep - how could I possibly fall asleep on the eve of such a momentous event! Momma snored beside me in her usual way after a bottle of Jack. But not me. After all this time I'd finally be with my Daddy. I pictured the reunion - our car pulling up in the driveway, Momma and Daddy bursting out. I imagined Nan and me waiting at the front door of our house, and then Daddy rushing toward us. I imagined his strong arms wrapped around me and my body crushed into his.
I'd had boyfriends and been on dates, but nothing would compare to my Daddy. Ever since I was young I'd been waiting for Daddy to come home, against all hope of a jail sentence that Ma said would extend indefinitely. It had been nineteen long years so far but I'd written to him every week of my life. No mail came in return - Momma told me that nothing ever comes back from a Supermax, but I knew he'd be thinking of me too. I wondered how he would be feeling on the brink of his release, and I squirmed again.
At some point during the night I must have succumbed to sIeep, but I don't remember the moment. In the morning Ma was already up and awake in her dishevelled nightie, sitting at the kitchen table, cigarette loosely hanging from her mouth looking like death warmed up. She hacked the cough of a long-time smoker, but with an even worse sputter that betrayed a throat of phlegm and a nose blocked with mucus.
"What's wrong Momma?" I asked. A small box and test kit littered the table in front of her.
"I got the virus," she stated matter-of-factly in a croaky voice. Then her emotion leaked as she sighed, "I can't go. You gonna have to do it. You gotta get Daddy."
"But maybe I got I the virus too!" I fretted.
Momma passed me a sealed test kit. "Best stay away from me Sweetie 'til we're sure." Her index finger slid the instructions across the table and I backed away to the kitchen counter, administered the test on myself and waited the 15 minutes for the result. Negative. Phew.
"Well Sweetie, there's the car keys. And here's some cash - find a cheap motel and you can stay for the week of isolation. Then bring him straight home. I'm waitin' for him. Now hurry girl - he don't need to stay inside for any longer than necessary."
I rushed to my tiny new room and rummaged through my pile of clothes on the floor, finding a pair of fresh panties and slipping on a floral missy dress. I blew kisses to Ma on my way out the door, yelled 'bye to Nan and bounced across the front porch to our old Camry parked out on the street.
Dawn had only just broken but already the day was hot with a cruel sun beating down on the green Florida flats and the air soaking up moisture from the swampy landscape. Under an hour's drive and I was there.
I pulled into the Visitor Center carpark and looked through the windshield at the monstrosity ahead of me. Bleak concrete buildings wrapped in fences of razor wire. Warning signs plastered everywhere. Crawling with uniformed officers. We'd driven by the Supermax before, but never gone in. Never even for a visit. I'd heard people talk about the legend of the Supermax before, and I'd seen documentaries on TV, but I didn't really know what Daddy's life would be like on the inside. Soon he'd be out and tell me all about it. Or maybe he wouldn't. My emotions were all mixed up wondering what our first encounter would be like.
I was a little early, but I stepped out of the rusty car and found my way through the entrance maze to the reception at the Visitor Center and signed in. And waited. And waited. Eventually a fat lady in corrective services uniform called my name and I went up to the shielded counter.
"Test result?" she asked.
"What test?"
"You gotta have a negative test result to the virus to come in."
Fuck. The receptionist was harsh, but helpful and directed me to a room with virus test kits and I administered a test myself. A half hour later, I made my way up to the counter and showed her the negative test result.
"OK. Now whatcha here for, Miss?" she asked.
"I'm collecting my Daddy."
"Name?"
"Bobba Harris."
"Right," she said, consulting a mound of paperwork on the counter behind the shield. "Says here he's being released today."
"That's right!" I said excitedly.
She asked me a bunch of questions about "a safe place to stay", "vouch for something", "responsibility for something else". I was so excited that I couldn't really take it in and just answered yes to everything and I signed a piece of paper offered to me.
