Rock bottom

Mr. Paredes was shocked and angry about the arbitrary decision to deny us bail. He started arguing in Spanish while the judge stared at him impatiently. "No! no puede ser!" Yelled Paredes. He grabbed me by the arm and shoved me to the front of the courtroom, right in the judges face. "Does this look like a criminal to you?!" "She didn't even have a contract!" She should be let go...keep the Canadian" - At that moment my blood pressure dropped- "No!" I said. "If he stays I stay" Silence froze the room for a moment. Paredes stared at me bewildered. And he was right, what a fucking idiot love makes us. I had no idea what I had just done. Mr. T was standing in the back of the room stunned. This was too passionate for him. In fact the two people from the Canadian "High Commission" were calmly standing beside the judge's podium listening in shock. Shocked but just listening while Mr. Paredes fought like a tiger for his cub. Somehow I knew if I left he would be stuck there for who knows how long. I knew that the "Mexican way" was the only way to get out. Yes, bribes, threats and diplomatic pressure. It was the only way out of that shit hole. And Canada was not going to go down that road. The judges hammer started banging on his desk, he started yelling at Paredes. No! They stay together, they are associates. Sorry. No bail! Go. Next! Slam, slam!!!! went the hammer...
The nice female guard held my hand and walked me out of the storage room. They hold your hand. Over there, nobody wears handcuffs. They just trust you not to take off running. Of course the fact that all guards carry old unlocked AK 47's might be part of the reason they trust you will not run. As we made our way back to the holding cells Mr T and I had about 4 minutes to speak. Looking forward as if we were not talking we made plans. "The lawyer asked me for more money", he said to me. More money? Why? We said 150,000 rupees. I know, Mr T said. He changed it now to 150,000 rupees each. How much is that in real money?
As I tried to do the math, which I have never been very good at, we arrived at the junction were we said goodbye. Mr.T handed me a letter and I had just enough time to mutter "I love you" He was swallowed into a dark corridor and I was pulled the other way.
I sat in the holding cell reading his letter. I couldn't help it and started crying. My life was like a bad Hallmark movie. I was reading love letters sitting in a stinky pissed holding cell in India. I had hit rock bottom.