Chapter 224: Prison Visit
Grandma knew Frank all too well. She knew just how much he feared her, how badly he wanted to avoid her—as if he wished she would vanish from his life forever. If he had his way, they'd never cross paths again.
So when Frank showed up, she immediately assumed he had an ulterior motive. And bringing her precious grandkids along, playing the family card? Something was definitely up—something big.
"I'm not here for anything in particular," Frank said casually. "Just thought the kids should meet their grandmother. They've grown up never having seen you."
"No particular reason?" Grandma narrowed her eyes in suspicion.
"Really, nothing special. Just visiting. By the way, have my brothers—Clayton, Jerry, or Wyatt—ever come to see you?" Frank asked.
Frank had three full-blood brothers, though their relationship had long since fallen apart. They hadn't spoken in years. In fact, Ian was the result of Monica's affair with one of those three. As for Fiona and the rest, they'd never even laid eyes on Frank's brothers.
"Clayton drops by now and then," Grandma said. "Last time was maybe two years ago. Jerry came around a few years back, begging for money. As for Wyatt—well, you know what happened. Got injured during service… lost his ability to have kids." Her tone softened as she recalled the past.
"Time's up," a prison guard interrupted. Visiting hours were strictly limited.
"I'll come back soon. Do you need anything? Is there anything you're short on in here?" Frank asked quickly.
"If you really care, get me a pack of cigarettes every week," Grandma replied without hesitation.
"Oh, and if you see Jerry," she added while standing up, "tell him if he doesn't return that five grand he stole, I'll send my ex-husband Ronnie to scoop his eyeballs out with a spoon!"
"Let's go," Frank said, watching the guards lead his mother away.
"Pinkman, take Debbie and Carl back to the car," Frank said as they left the visitation room.
Then he turned to a nearby prison officer.
"Excuse me, how much longer until Peggy Gallagher gets released?"
"Peggy?" The officer thought for a second. "Oh—you mean Body Bag."
"Body Bag?" Frank blinked in confusion.
"Yeah, that's her nickname in here," the officer said offhandedly.
Frank was a little surprised. If she had a nickname known throughout the prison, even by officers, she clearly had some clout in here.
"You want to know when Body Bag's getting out?" the officer asked.
"Exactly. She's pushing 80. She's not a danger to society anymore," Frank said, hinting at early release.
"That's not up to me," the officer replied diplomatically.
"Everything's negotiable. She's an old lady—if something happens to her in here, that's not good for anyone," Frank said, discreetly slipping an envelope into the officer's hand.
"Hmm, let me check." The officer opened a terminal and typed for a bit. "Yeah, she's 78. She's definitely getting up there."
After a short conversation, Frank finally left to rejoin the others in the parking lot.
"Got to see Grandma. How was it?" Frank asked on the drive home.
"I want to visit her again," Debbie said sincerely.
"Grandma is awesome!" Carl said excitedly.
"She was... memorable," Pinkman said, his expression complicated.
Ever since coming to Chicago with Frank, Pinkman's worldview had been repeatedly turned upside down.
"Did you see Grandma? What was she like?" Lip asked from the couch as they got home.
"She's badass! Said she's gonna scoop someone's eyeballs out with a spoon!" Carl said, full of admiration.
"Don't talk nonsense. Grandma's not gonna do something like that," Frank said, giving Carl a light smack on the head.
"When you've got time, I'll take you to see her too," Frank said to Lip. "She'd really like to meet you."
"Maybe. We'll see," Lip replied, not looking up as he fiddled with the electronics in his hands.
"What are you working on?" Frank asked, curious.
Lip had a bunch of electronic components spread out. It didn't look like a phone or a tablet—Frank couldn't tell what it was.
"It's a police tracker. It piggybacks on GPS and scans police frequencies to pinpoint their coordinates. Real-time tracking, anywhere, anytime," Lip explained.
In short, it was a police radar—used to track law enforcement.
"Why are you building something like that?" Frank asked, frowning.
"To avoid the cops, of course," Lip said matter-of-factly.
Summer was harvest season for Lip. Every year, he'd make some real money during the summer months.
Kevin owned an old ice cream truck. During summer, they'd drive around parks and neighborhoods selling popsicles, snacks, and even set up gambling games for local sports. On the side, they'd sell loose cigarettes—single sticks.
By the end of summer, Kevin and Lip would usually rake in quite a bit. But if the cops caught wind of it, they'd be in serious trouble. That's why Lip made the tracker—to avoid run-ins with the law.
Lip was a genius, no doubt—but he rarely used that brilliance for the right reasons. During winter, he'd even take exams for other people.
Still, without Lip's shady but effective moneymaking tricks, the family probably wouldn't have survived.
Fiona brought in most of the household income, but when things got tough—and they often did—Lip was the one who stepped up. No matter how, he'd always figure out a way to scrape together enough money to keep the family afloat.
He was the family's unofficial second-in-command, right after Fiona.
"We've got money now. You don't need to keep doing this stuff," Frank said with a slight frown.
"Money? I must've missed that memo," Lip replied dryly.
Fiona managed all the household finances. Having grown up in poverty, she was extremely frugal. Even after Frank disappeared for half a year, she didn't touch the "inheritance" he left behind—several thousand dollars that sat untouched in the bank. The family kept living like they always had: broke.
Frank may have returned with a stack of cash and even renovated two houses, but for Lip and the others, nothing had really changed.
They were still poor. And summer was still the best time to earn as much as possible and stockpile for winter.
"With your old man back, I promise—no more going without," Frank said, trying to sound confident, though a trace of heaviness clung to his voice.
Lip looked at him for a moment, said nothing, and went back to tinkering with his device.
(End of Chapter)
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