Z-A Monday - In the Pokey

The policeman motioned Xavier to sit in the cruiser for a pop down to the precinct quarters. Xavier wordlessly proceeded to the car, and headed downtown for processing.

He couldn't get over his plight; headed for prison. The pen. The pokey.

After processing, emptying his pockets, and a mug photo, Xavier was led to a holding cell full of, he figured, pickpockets, pimps, punks, and pranksters gone bad. He didn't even know where he'd place his "one phone call". What would be his punishment? When would he be paroled? He should have stayed a pirate!

He pondered further. How could he have prevented this? How did he fall such easy prey? Positively shouldn't have taken the plunge with these people.

Eventually, a fairly plain but yet pretty young public defender named Pam entered his cell to discuss his plight. He proclaimed his innocence; she preferred that he cop a plea. His predicament was not improving.

After a few more perplexing minutes, a jailer walked over, unlocked the padlocked door, and motioned Xavier out. Pam asked what precipitated this exit, and the policeman pointed to the front desk. "Ask Pierce, up there."

Xavier and Pam pressed Pierce for an explanation.

Pierce responded: "We're springing you. We caught the posse that pilfered that place on Quimby. They persuaded us that you were an innocent bystander. Thought they'd get preferred treatment if we pardoned you. Well, that's a pipe dream, but you're free to go."

Xavier picked up his pocket contents, penned his signature for release, and pulled open the precinct house's door.

Pam asked "Do you need a ride somewhere?" She pointed to a parked, aging Pontiac Grand Prix at the curb.

Pam seemed personable enough, but the truth was that Xavier had no place to go.

"Nah, I guess I'll just be a pedestrian."

This purported "vacation" was certainly no picnic. As he plodded on, passing a park, he noticed some people with binoculars, scanning the poplars and pines. He sauntered over to take a peek.