CHAPTER NINETHE PRISON OF SELF
Jesse held both hands on the bars of the holding cell in the New Orleans city jail. At least the handcuffs had been removed. His wrists were sore. He was thirsty. It had been less than a week since he and Carmen had talked about the prison of self at Marie Laveau’s tomb. Now, he was in a jail cell for real. Looking through the bars, he could see police and prisoners going through their motions in front of several officers who sat behind a tall desk. No one was there on his behalf. No one cared that he was feeling highly claustrophobic, being caged like an animal.
He sat down and then reclined on a splintered, wooden bench. No point getting in a hurry. Casey knew enough about the law to get him out eventually.
Jesse had been locked up for four hours. It fel
