a collect call from a stranger

tonight i had the pleasure of emotionally supporting a transwoman i’ve never met, who is locked up in the men’s unit of travis county jail. caring for strangers and requests for care happen every day by word of mouth. i love word of mouth because it’s the best way anything happens, and most mouths have good words. i already have a prepaid phone account in the county jail phone system so calls can come through.

after accepting the collect call and listening with empathy (while simultaneously googling new-to-me slang words on urban dictionary) i asked lana what i could do to help her right now. she said, “just listening to me and being here as a listening ear is so helpful, thank you, i’m sorry to dump on you.” “i love that you’re telling me your story, it’s not a burden at all to learn about another human being,” i said. i asked if i could help her in a concrete way that didn’t take money.

the mission was touching. she doesn’t have the phone number of her girlfriend. the day before lana was pulled over and arrested for possession of a controlled substance, they’d had a big relationship conversation. lana said she was so deeply in love that she needed to see geraldine every day. geraldine agreed that their love was ready for this and she would let down her guard. they’ve been together more then a year. then lana disappeared the next day.

lana is afraid geraldine thinks lana either abandoned her or killed herself. “a lot of people in her life have done that. i would never do that to her. i’m just heartbroken thinking about what she’s feeling.”

lana saw her public defender, krissi, today. krissi let her know the charges against her will be dropped. lana should get out of travis county jail in one to two weeks. meanwhile, of course, she’s lost her apartment, her phone service, her belongings, and her truck with her tools was impounded. the system has teeth.

i said i would try to locate and contact geraldine. “what would you like me to tell her?”

“tell her that i’m clean, i’m alive, i’m not using, i was arrested, and i’m coming home -- by that i mean, i’m getting out. and i love her. i’ll come straight to her if she’ll let me. and that i need an italian meatball sub. she’ll understand.”

lana got emotional. “i’m sorry, i’m crying and hyperventilating at the thought that you’re going to help me with geraldine,” she said. hopefully keeping their love relationship alive, helping her have a place to go when she’s released, letting a worried girlfriend know what happened to her lover? what a sweet mission.

“i smoked crystal meth every day for seven years and i stopped last year because i don’t want to do that in a world with geraldine in it. i don’t want to risk losing my life to ice again because i get to love geraldine now,” lana said.

she said, “i’m sorry to take up all your time, i know it’s six o’clock now and your business is closing and you want to stop working.”

“oh honey,” i said, “this is not a business.”

“oh, i don’t mean to offend you, i mean, the nonprofit,” she said.

“this is just friends helping friends,” i said. “this is just a little love person to person. because we like helping. we’re glad you’re here.”

“oh my god,” she said. “you’re kidding me. i can’t even handle it.”

the jail recorded line announced one minute left on the call so we said goodbye. i’d gotten a few clues. geraldine works at subway sandwiches. i figured out a likely location and placed a call to her possible workplace. her supervisor said she would be in tomorrow.

lana will call me collect again on friday at 7pm. i hope to have good news for her, and geraldine’s phone number.

such a small, sweet ask. i love it.

thank you for reading. special, deep thanks to my paid subscribers, whose support allows me to offer mutual aid. there’s nothing i’d rather do than experience and share unpredictable, unplanned moments of human connection in this spirit of empathy—and write stories about it. thanks for your eyes.