Vindico Bay - Chapter 3

All characters are 18+

Parker sat on the blue mattress in the cell. Part of him wanted to laugh and the other part wanted to cry. This was insane. He hadn't done anything wrong, and yet he was locked in a room with nothing more than a bed and a toilet that he refused to use.

As prison cells went, at least from the television, Parker didn't think this one was too bad. It was bright, with a large window above his head. Sure, it showed signs of abuse from who knows how many drunks, but overall, it was pretty comfortable.

The eighteen-year-old had never been inside a cell before, and whilst he knew that some day in the future it would make for a funny story with DJ and his other friends, he wasn't laughing now.

He wasn't the type of person to get angry at others, but he couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal. The police had spoken to DJ already, why hadn't he told them that he was the one who had given Parker the bike? Was he trying to save his own butt? Possibly, but by doing so, he landed his best friend in a prison cell for a few hours.

Parker sighed and lay back on the thin mattress. Hopefully his dad and the solicitor were on the way to sort this whole mess out, but until that point, all the young man had was his thoughts.

He hated seeing his mum upset. He didn't have a relationship with her like he did with his dad, but she was still his mum, and he felt awful as he thought about her crying as he was led away from the house.

He quickly made the decision that the least DJ deserved was a punch in the mouth, and though he'd never laid a finger on anybody in his life, he was adamant that he'd do it once he got out of this cell.

"Let's go, kid" a grey haired police officer said, unlocking the door and standing aside as Parker got up and walked out into the long hall.

"Is my dad here?" He asked, his neck stiff from laying in the cell for the last five hours.

"Yeah, and he's brought the cavalry" the man chuckled, leading the eighteen-year-old over to another room.

"All over a bike" he laughed, and pushed open the door.

Parker found his dad sitting at a small table beside another man who wore a suit and a pair of glasses that sat at the end of his long nose.

"There's my little criminal" his dad beamed, hugging his son before the three of them sat and a second officer walked into the room.

"Is my client free to leave?" The suited man asked coldly as the two officers sat down.

"Not just yet, Mr. Mooney" one of them said, "the owners of the bicycle want to press charges".

Both Mr. Mooney and John Willis gawped at the officers.

"Is this a joke?" John asked, his face etched with shock.

"Look, we're not too thrilled with the idea either" the grey haired man said, "it's a damn bike, but they have the right to file charges, and they have".

"So what does this mean?" John barked, and Parker simply sat in silence, unsure what was happening.

The two officers glanced at each other.

"It means" Mr. Mooney growled "he'll go before a judge".

Parker's blood ran cold as he listened to the men talk about him like he wasn't sitting in the room with them.

"When?" John snapped.

"Tomorrow morning, and we'll need to keep him here until then unfortunately".

"No!" Parker shouted, "I didn't do anything! I didn't take the fucking bike!"

"Calm down, Parker" his dad snapped, and glared at the two officers.

"What's going to happen to him?" He asked calmly, though Parker could tell that his blood was boiling inside.

"It's really not a big deal, John" the older man said, "worst case scenario, a slap on the wrist and possibly a fine".

John sighed and rubbed his temples before turning to his son and taking him by the shoulder.

"One night, champ" he smiled sympathetically, but Parker was furious.

"Dad! I didn't steal anything!"

"I know son" he nodded "this will all be over tomorrow, you've just got to hang tight for tonight, okay?"

Parker felt like crying. This wasn't fair, and yet he quickly found himself being escorted back toward the bland cell.

"I know it's a pain in the ass, kid" the officer told him as he took him back inside, "but your dads right, tomorrow morning it will all be said and done".

The cell door slammed shut and once again Parker was alone, and he'd remain that way throughout the night and until the early hours of the following morning.

He didn't sleep much, especially when the surrounding cells began to fill with leery drunks and loud criminals. Despite the fact that there was six inches of steel keeping them apart, Parker found himself shaking with fear for the majority of the night, and didn't manage to sleep until the morning light began drifting through the window overhead.

"Rise and shine!" He heard, his stinging eyes flickering open as the cell door opened.

The young man stretched as he stood. It felt like he'd been lying on a slab of concrete all night, but he had little time to dwell on it. The officer took him back down the corridor outside the cells and down a set of stairs.

"Be polite" the man said as they walked through the dark hall, "it looks like you have Judge Dempsey, he's a bit of a hard ass, but he's a sucker for manners. Yes, Judge, no, judge, three bags full, judge" he chuckled.

Parker was more nervous now than he had been in his entire life. How did he even end up in this bizarre situation? Yesterday he was stuck to his bed with a hangover, and now he was being brought before a judge for something he didn't do!

He felt filthy, he hadn't even brushed his teeth and suddenly he began worrying that the judge would look down on him for the fact. His stomach growled with anxiousness.

"Ready, son?" The officer asked as they ascended another set of stairs and stood behind a door.

Parker nodded, but he wasn't ready, not in the slightest.

The courtroom was a lot smaller than what he'd seen in movies. It looked rather like a large office, and at the top of the room, a long desk ran the length of the wall. It was obvious who the judge was, and Parker got the distinct impression that he was rarely a happy man.

Either side of the judge, suited men and women sat, some on laptops, some reading and others just chatting amongst themselves.

"When your name is called, stand behind that podium and don't speak unless you're asked a question" the officer said as the two of them sat down.

A few minutes went by as beads of sweat began to trail down Parker's face. His heart raced loudly, and then finally he heard his name being called and did what the officer had told him.

Judge Dempsey looked to be in his sixties. He had white hair, combed neatly to the side and leathery skin etched with wrinkles. He wore a black cloak type fabric over a shirt, with a red tie fixed perfectly under his chin.

"Why isn't this man in handcuffs?" He asked instantly, his beady eyes scanning Parker.

The officer stood up and quickly attached a steel cuff to Parker's wrist.

"Sorry, kid" he whispered, clasping his hands together.

This was absurd. How could he be treated like this for a fucking bike that he didn't even steal!? His mouth fell open, and suddenly the entire situation became even more harrowing.

"State your name and age for the record" Dempsey growled, reading a document in his hand as Parker cleared his throat.

"P... Parker Willis" the boy stuttered, "I'm eighteen".

"You're accused of larceny, how do you plead?"

The judge wasn't even looking at Parker as the young man tried to choke out the words.

"N... Not guilty, your honour" he said, eager to impress the judge.

The man continued to read the document in his hand as Parker sweat profusely and looked back over his shoulder. Instantly he found his parents who looked almost as anxious as he felt. His dad nodded with a half smile.

"The bike was found in your garden, is that correct?" He asked.

"Yes, your honour, but..."

"And you'd ridden the bike, is that correct?"

"Yes, your honour, but..."

"And at no point did you attempt to return the bike to it's rightful owners, is that correct?"

"Yes, but I didn't steal it!" Parker snapped, and the judge's eyes narrowed.

"Any more outbursts, young man" he hissed "and you'll be sent back down and I'll remand you in custody for another month!"

Parker gulped, wanting to punch himself for allowing his emotions to boil over.

"The court finds that you knowingly, and with the full understanding of your actions, stole the bike and had no intentions of returning it. Due to these findings, I have no choice but to impose a sentence upon you".

A mumble echoed through the courtroom and Parker turned to find his father staring, open mouthed, at the judge and his mother crying into his arm.

"Your honour!" Mr. Mooney was sitting directly behind Parker, but he hadn't noticed him until now.

"My client is accused of stealing a bicycle, not a Porsche" he half laughed, "to consider sentencing for something as menial as this, given the young man's previous good nature, is... It's... Unfathomable!"

The judge looked as though the vein in his temple was about to explode as he glared at Mr. Mooney.

"Fathom it" he spat, "I'm sentencing you to twelve months, to be served in Vindico Bay".

The judge hammered his gavel and quickly disappeared through a door in the back.

Parker felt numb as he turned to find every person in the courtroom staring at him, in shock.

"I'm so fucking sorry" Mr. Mooney gasped, pulling the boy into a hug as his parents rushed over.

"Mooney, what... What's this all about? He can't... Surely he can't just..."

"I'm sorry John" the solicitor said, the distress evident in his voice, "we'll appeal it, don't worry, we'll appeal it with another judge".

Parker's father clasped his hand to his mouth as he dragged his son into his chest.

"It's gonna' be fine, son" he whispered, kissing Parker on the head as his mother continued to cry.

"What is, dad?" Parker asked, his brain apparently unable to function as loud chatter ensued around him.

John didn't let Parker go, and the young man could feel his father begin to sob.

"Dad! What's happening?" He asked, frantically, tears welling in his eyes for a reason unbeknownst to him at the time.

"We'll get you out of there as soon as we can, champ" he cried, taking his son's face in his hands and kissing his forehead.

"Get me out?!" Parker shouted, "get me out of what! Dad, what the fuck is happening!?"

A hand took Parker under the arm and suddenly he was being led away from the room.

"DAD!" He screamed, his voice cracking as he watched his sobbing parents disappear out of sight.

His legs began to move, though Parker himself seemed not to be in control of them. The officer who had taken him into the court, was the one taking him out, and he too seemed flabbergasted.

"Fuck, kid" he sighed, "I wasn't expecting that".

Parker could hardly breathe as they walked back down the corridor. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, but he wasn't crying, he was too shocked to cry.

"V... Vindico Bay" Parker mouthed, but wasn't sure if the words actually left him until the officer replied.

"No idea, son" the man told him, and stopped to take off the handcuffs. "It's probably some fancy pants new prison, but don't worry about that for now, just take each day as it comes and I know your dad will have you out in no time".

The terrified eighteen-year-old didn't even register the rest of the journey until he was sat back on the steel bed and the large officer stood above him.

"You'll be okay, kid" the man said, ruffling Parker's hair, "you'll be out before you know it".

The officer smiled sympathetically and left the cell.

Parker remained frozen in place, his eyes wide, his mouth open and his heart hammering so loud in his chest that he was sure he'd pass out.

What was Vindico Bay? Where was Vindico Bay?

A single tear fell down the teenagers cheek as the questions flooded his mind, but soon he would have answers to them all.