Prison Wars: An Inside Account of How the Apocalypse Happened By Martin Sanger. Martin Sänger

like underneath your not wanting to judge, you’re not in favor of Prison Wars.”

      “Well maybe I just don’t understand it. I want him to do what he needs to do. He is happy when he is successful, feeling like big stuff, and driving a new project. I just don’t get it. That’s all.”

      I thought out loud, “We all have a need to be appreciated and useful. And many men feel the need to aspire to greatness and be top dog. We don’t rest well at the bottom. I know I’d like to achieve a lot more before I die.”

      “Pissing in the ocean.” Melissa said wistfully. “We, mark our spot. The waves have a sadness that we should savor. I love it. It’s a great tool getting centered, for being in the moment. Waves bring us close to the essence of what it is to be alive.”

      That was the first time I ever had an inkling of being in love with Melissa. It was the only time that I ever heard Quentin play the sax. He said he did it to get a sense of peace. But it just sounded like random stuff to me. You could almost hear him thinking that he wanted to get his chops back and play in a band again in the melodies.

      After a couple more minutes he came walking around the cove, sax in hand, with a big smile on his face. He had had fun. When he got there, Melissa asked him if they could take a walk. He said “Sure”.

      Quentin asked me to watch his sax and the kids and they took off. Walking down the beach she kind of went forward and he kept stopping to try skipping stones that he’d found over the waves.

      The kids and I played. I was getting to know them.

      Melissa had a more concerned mind than Quentin. Still, despite the contrast, she loved him immensely and he her. I could see it; as they walked back they held hands.

      Driving back we had an upsetting incident. Someone was waiting with a camera already poised for us as we drove into the driveway.

      “That guy was at the press conference! I saw him at the press conference.” I exclaimed as the recognition registered.

      “Quent, stop and tell him to buzz off. He shouldn’t be in our space like that.” Melissa demanded.

      “No!” He replied curtly. Then he softened, “I think that might just be a part of our life for now.” As we went into the driveway the kid’s heads followed the tall gentleman in tweed as if they were radar locked on a target.

      “Its not cool! It’s not cool at all.” She said.

      “Lets keep our cool.” Quentin’s reply was almost a whisper to himself. As Melissa pouted a little he continued out loud. “Look honey it has been a perfect day. We’ve had fun, haven’t we kids?”

      “Yeeaaaah!” They cheered with the clean enthusiasm that kids in advertisements have.

      “So let’s keep it happy and enjoy this perfect day. Don’t let anything out there dictate your happiness or change your breathing.” He stared into her eyes through the rear view mirror.

      “That’s just it. I don’t need shit like that in my life. Our life is perfect.” Melissa’s eyes simultaneously communicated love, admiration and pleading. Then as if it were a matter of fact assertion she said “I love you.” With this she grabbed his shoulder.

      “I love you too babe.” Quentin replied with a tiny blush.

      That was the first night that I ever at spent at their home. We had dinner and watched some television with the kids. It was a lot of fun. I was, of course, self-conscious of the fact that I was a newbie in their family. I had to observe to know who went where when and who did the dishes, decided what to watch, broke the evening up and so forth. But everyone expected this much awkwardness. And there were many moments when I just enjoyed what we were doing in the moment.

      As the weeks wore on, I got to add my own suggestions to the routines. Justin and I played cards to decide who got the big chair during our nightly forty-five minutes of reading. It soon became routine for me to make Samantha laugh by saying I didn’t see something she wanted me to pass at the dinner table. In short I really became a member of their family.

      When I think back to what has been lost, I always come back to those nights we spent together.

      I was able to write in my new place. Quentin and I played tennis nearly every day. We often had a fire in the fireplace. We drank a lot of coffee on the porch. And the kids were a source of endless fascination to me. As I mentioned, my home life growing up wasn’t too great. These early days were the most contented I had ever had.