On The Inside Page 4

  The officer un-cuffed Abigail, stepped out and closed the door. The sound of it clinking shut startled the newcomer, and she jumped. Looking terrified, she held out her hand to shake Jess’. “Hello,” she said in a small voice. “Nice to meet you.”

  Jess put her larger hand out to shake Abigail’s delicate one. “Hi,” she mumbled.

  Abigail looked uncomfortable, like she didn’t know what to do next. Jess continued to stand motionless, unsure what to say. After a few soundless minutes passed, Abigail sat down and began picking her cuticles.

  Jess was confused. She knew Warden Laura didn’t care for her. And even though it was against the rules to discriminate, it was obvious to Jess how the boss felt. She couldn’t understand why Laura decided to send an angel straight from Heaven her way. If it was a test or a trick, it had failed miserably, for Jess heard music the moment she saw Abigail. Her heart stopped beating and time stood still as she beheld the most beautiful creature she’d ever laid eyes on.

  If there was such a thing as love at first sight, this was definitely it.

  Soon the dreamy mental haze parted, and Jess regained the use of some of her senses. With a dry mouth she said, “You must be thirsty. Do you want a soda? I have Coke.”

  Abigail smiled appreciatively. “Oh, thanks. That would be wonderful.”

  Jess scrambled to her locker and rummaged through it, pulling out a can. “Here you go,” she said while handing it to her.

  “Thanks,” Abigail replied.

  Jess figured she must be stressed out and frightened. Maybe no one had been nice to her in a long time. Maybe she could use a friend.

  Abigail sat on the lower bunk so Jess found a spot on the ground opposite her. Jess watched as Abigail drank greedily from the can and noticed the slow rippling movement of her neck as the elixir made its way down. Jess was transfixed, in awe at how such a simple thing could mesmerize her.

  “Ahh,” Abigail said when finished. “I forgot how good that tastes.”

  Jess smiled, then ran a hand through her short brown hair. She continued staring at Abigail, her expression one of pure bliss. She had never been in the presence of a goddess.

  “So what are you in for?” Jess asked, figuring it wise to start talking instead of continuing to stare like a slack-jawed idiot.

  The smile on Abigail’s face vanished. And even though it didn’t seem possible, she grew several shades whiter. “I’m afraid if I told you that you wouldn’t be very nice to me anymore.”

  Jess looked at her in disbelief. There was no way this sweet lady could have done anything horrible. It had to be a misunderstanding or she’d been framed. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” she said.

  “I’d rather not.” Then, in what seemed like an attempt at keeping conversation, Abigail asked, “And you? What are you here for? Or if you don’t want to discuss it…”

  Jess looked down at her shoes. It would come up eventually, and since she was anxious to find out her roommate’s secret, she decided to fess up.

  “I walked in on my girlfriend with another woman. They were in bed together and I lost it. I beat the girl senseless.”

  Abigail visibly stiffened. Jess assumed it was because she connected the dots and realized she was a lesbian. It could make people uncomfortable, especially someone who already seemed nervous to begin with.

  “Did the woman die?” Abigail asked.

  “No. She survived but was hospitalized in critical condition for a week. She almost didn’t make it.”

  Jess waited for a sign from Abigail. Anything that might reveal what she was thinking.

  “Emotions,” she finally replied. “They can get the best of us.”

  A sadness crept into Abigail’s aura. The gloom enveloped her and managed to twist her beautiful face with sorrow.

  Jess quickly changed the subject. “Which bunk do you prefer? Top or bottom?”

  The question seemed to snap Abigail out of her sadness. “Whichever,” she said. “I’m not choosy.”

  “Well, it looks like you’re comfortable where you’re at, so I’ll take the top.” Jess had been sleeping on the lower bunk but didn’t mind the change.

  Abigail smiled again. “Okay. Thanks. I really appreciate that.”

  That was what Jess wanted to see, her smile. It lit up their dismal surroundings like the North Star illuminated the night sky.

  Jess woke up in the wee hours of the morning. When she remembered her new cellmate, she grinned again. She couldn’t believe her good fortune.

  *****

  Lupe arrived with fanfare to Kristen’s cell. “Hey, girl. We meet again,” she said as she high-fived the middle-aged blonde.

  “What’s this? You’ve been transferred here?”

  “Sure have. The next six months we’re gonna hang, we’re gonna chill. Lupe’s gonna take good care of you.”

  Kristen smiled. She couldn’t help it. Lupe’s enthusiasm was contagious. “Sounds good,” she said.

  Kristen wondered if she was even remotely as cool as Lupe when she was her age. So much time had passed, she couldn’t remember. Boys liked her. She remembered that, and she’d scored a pretty good-looking husband, so she must’ve been. Lupe reminded her of the good old days, when she was young and not a criminal. She was more into parties and staying out late.

  After getting comfortable, Lupe began poking around, checking out Kristen’s book collection. “Chica. What are you reading? Looks like some serious shit.” She picked up Winter Garden by Kristin Hannah and read the back cover to herself. “Sounds sad,” she said, then set it aside. Lupe grabbed another. “The Painted Veil by W. Somerset Maugham?” she eyed Kristen.

  “A classic. Also kind of sad.”

  Lupe put the book back and glanced at the remaining choices. She didn’t seem enthused. “No romance novels? No mysteries?”

  “Afraid not. My sister-in-law sends me what she likes to read. But I’ll try to request something different, maybe an action adventure.”

  Lupe sat on the bunk and made herself at home, leaning back with her arms crossed behind her neck. “Yeah, that sounds good. Meanwhile, I’ve got a few action adventure stories of my own.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  Lupe shook her head and giggled. “All right. I’ve got so many. How about something recent?”

  Kristen nodded.

  “Okay. So I was coming out of the grocery store. It’s hot as Hell, and I’ve got my shopping bags balanced in each hand, trying to get back to my car before my ice cream melts, when out of nowhere this fool in an old Buick slams on the brakes and just misses hitting me.”

  “Oh my gosh!”

  “I know, right? So I walk right up to this guy’s window and he has the nerve to unroll it and start yelling at me, the fucking pedestrian! I was so pissed I set my bags down, took off my left flip flop and slapped him across the face with it.”

  Kristen burst into a fit of laughter. “No way!”

  Lupe smiled and said, “You know I did. Left a red mark on his cheek too.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “I put my shoe back on and grabbed my bags. He looked like he was going to get out of the car and try to fight me, but then an older woman began screaming ‘Come on! Move already!’ and he just hit the gas and took off.”

  Kristen lost it and began laughing even harder, with tears streaming down her cheeks. Lupe was a maniac. But in a good way. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed like this and was starting to look forward to the next six months together.

  After Kristen regained composure Lupe asked, “You wanna hear another one?”

  Kristen wiped tears from her eyes. “Yeah. Keep ’em coming.”

  Now Lupe laughed. “This one goes back a bit, but it’s a goodie,” she said, rubbing her hands together as if she was concocting the tale on the spot. She could’ve been, Kristen thought. But either way it was great entertainment.

  “So this old white lady had computer problems at her
office. And my cousin Juan, who had a small business repairing PC’s helped her out. Anyway, this bitch owed him $700.00 and wasn’t paying. She kept having new complaints and tried to get him to come out and fix those issues for free. He fell for that shit a few more times, but she continued to balk at paying the original bill, so he finally got smart.”

  Kristen’s smile was plastered on her face. She already anticipated where this story might go.

  “He’s complaining to me how broke he is and that he can’t make his car payment, and I ask him what happened with Sarah. I guess he didn’t want to tell me she was a no-pay because I’d introduced them. Once he did, I flipped. Especially when he said how much she owed. I knew she was playing him, and I didn’t like it. She’s got plenty of money. Works as a high-rolling sales lady at a fancy timeshare resort.”

  Lupe shook her head in disgust and continued. “So I show up at the hotel and find her office. She’s not with anyone, but she’s on the phone. By the way I was glaring at her, she decided to hang up and talk to me instead. ‘Can I help you, Lupe?’ she asks. ‘Yeah, you can,’ I say. ‘My cousin has been more than fair fixing your computers, and you haven’t paid him.’ She went on trying to say there was more to be done, and she’d pay when they were all working up to par. At that point I’d had enough of her BS, so I reached over the desk and grabbed her by the front of her blouse. I told her she’d better pay by tomorrow, and that she needed to send Juan an overnight check, and if she didn’t send it I’d be back the next day to beat her senseless. I told her I didn’t think she’d be able to close as many sales while wearing a neck brace.”

  Kristen’s jaw hung open. “Then what happened?”

  “UPS truck showed up next morning—10:00 am—with the check.”

  “Dang, girl,” Kristen said. “You’re not messing around. You’re a real badass.” Kristen paused, then asked, “You got another one?”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Lupe said. “I could go on all night.”

  She did just that, and for once Kristen enjoyed her time in her small cell, snickering and slapping her knee every time a new, grander adventure unfolded.

  Who needed a novel when there was Lupe?

  Chapter 7

  After breakfast and a walk out on the yard, Kristen wanted to know more about Lupe. The real her, not just her funny stories.

  “Tell me about your family. Are you close?” Kristen asked when they got back to their cell.

  Lupe looked serious for once. “Yeah, we’re close. My mom is dead. Passed away giving birth to me. My dad raised me with the help of an aunt who lived nearby. I have lots of brothers and sisters too. From different moms.”

  Kristen wondered what it would be like to come from such a large family. She thought she would like it. “So what did you want to be when you grew up?”

  Lupe laughed. “That’s funny, chica.” She seemed to be mulling it over in her mind though. “I don’t know. Someone important. Like a scientist or a person that discovers the cure for cancer. Don’t really have the smarts for that so I found another route.” She tsked and added, “Look where that got me. Don’t feel too important sitting in prison.”

  The way Lupe acted— like a hotshot— must have been for show. She used her power to her advantage while being locked up, which was smart, but deep down she’d hoped for more. Luckily, she was still young. She could change things.

  “Things will work out. You’ll see,” Kristen offered. “You’re getting out soon enough, and you can do whatever you want.”

  Lupe shrugged. “I doubt I’ll become a scientist, but I hope to do something good. I sure as hell don’t want to come back here.” She reached for her headphones, put them on and pressed play. Soon she was tapping her fingers and bobbing her head to the music.

  Kristen sat down on her bunk, bored. She wished she were getting out soon too. When she saw Lakeisha stop by with mail for her, she jumped up and grabbed the envelope, then turned it over to see it was from Jeremy.

  Her heart thudded as she held the letter. She tore it open and began to read.

  Kristen,

  Please don’t write and say how sorry you are anymore. I don’t want to hear it. People make mistakes. I get that. People forget to send their aunt a birthday card because it slips their mind, or they forget to pay their electric bill. But it’s not a mistake to repeatedly forge checks and siphon money out of your employer’s account.

  And you have the nerve to say we abandoned you because we don’t come to visit? You ask over and over again why “we” left you.

  We didn’t leave you, Kristen. You left us. Each time you stole money to shop for things. How stupid you were to think you’d never get caught. Granted, you had me fooled. I didn’t know how much things cost and you were in charge of all the bills. I was just the dumb blue-collar guy you married, right? Nothing I gave you was ever enough.

  Your letters to me talk about all the “good times” we had. Maybe there were some. We were together for two decades. But the bad memories, combined with the way things are now, make it all a blur.

  My life consists of buffing and painting cars in the sweltering heat while you sit on your ass reading books all day. I have to cook dinner, help with homework, shop for groceries. I work like a slave and never get a break. Meanwhile my sister tells me you do yoga and have a counselor in there. Sounds rough, Kristen. Wish I had someone to tell my problems to, but I can’t afford health insurance for me or the kids.

  You complain they don’t write you. I give them pens, paper, stamps, but I can’t force them to do it. All I can do is suggest they write their mother. They say they’re going to, and then they don’t. They let letters from you pile up unread. Not because they don’t love you. They do. But because they feel the pain all over again every time they read one, knowing their mom is in prison, enduring God knows what each day.

  They don’t read the letters or write because they want to forget. You know what? I want to forget too. But for some unknown reason I do read them and it just pisses me off all over again. I want to explode. What you don’t understand is that we’re in prison too. It’s harder on us than if you had died. At least then we’d be able to mourn our loss. Instead we have to go on knowing you’re in there, and your letters are like a ghost that continues to haunt us.

  So you see, you’re not the only one suffering. You did this to all of us. Keep writing the kids and I will continue to ask the them to read your letters and write you back, but I’m not going to read anything you write me anymore, so don’t waste your ink.

  Save it for your boyfriend.

  Jeremy

  Kristen sat down, then let out a deep sigh. It always ended with the boyfriend. She’d never be able to live that down. What a colossal mistake. More disturbing was what he’d said about the letters. That the kids let them pile up and that her writing was like a ghost haunting them. That it would be easier on them if she had died.

  Kristen’s throat began to constrict, and she stood to get a bottle of water. When she made eye contact with Lupe, she fainted.

  *****

  Sitting in Megan’s office, Kristen felt embarrassed. “We have to stop meeting like this,” she joked.

  “You keep me in a job,” Megan teased back.

  It was true though, Kristen thought, and the gravity of her situation hit her again. To make matters worse there was a swollen knot on her head from where she’d bumped it on the floor.

  “I heard you gave your roommate quite a scare.”

  Kristen couldn’t picture Lupe fazed by anything, but she took Megan’s word for it. “I don’t know how that happened. I’ve never fainted before.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Megan asked.

  “Sure. Why not. I’m here, right?”

  Megan stared back at her with a calm, comforting expression. She really looked like she cared.

  “I got another letter from my husband. It was a doozy. I don’t know why I thought it would be something nice. Wishful thinking?” Kr
isten smirked. “This one was way worse than the last.”

  “How so?”

  Kristen sighed. “He brought up the affair again. Told me not to write him anymore because it pisses him off. He said to save the ink for my boyfriend.”

  “Hmm. And do you have any contact with him?”

  “God, no. He was nothing. Just someone that made me feel nice while I was drowning. He didn’t even know the real me. When he found out I got arrested, that I wasn’t a successful business woman, he was history.”

  “And how does that make you feel?”

  “I don’t feel anything. I guess he wasn’t very important to me.”

  “But your husband feels otherwise. He’s obviously still hurt and angry.”

  “Yeah. He’s not going to forget it. I know him.”

  Megan sat back and looked at her notes.

  “He confuses me though. One minute he’s saying he’s working hard while I sit on my ass reading all day, the next he’s saying they’re suffering, and that they care. That it’s like they’re in prison too.”

  “You know Kristen, it’s common for people to have love/hate relationships with their loved ones, especially when they’ve gone through something like this. It sounds like your husband is showing both his love and fury in the same letter. Maybe that’s why it’s confusing.”

  Kristen hugged her knees to her chest. “He said it would’ve been easier if I had died, that at least then they could’ve mourned their loss. He said my letters are like a ghost that haunts them, and that the kids let them pile up unread because they want to forget.”

  This seemed to grab Megan’s full attention. She sat up straighter and cleared her throat. “And how does that make you feel?”

  “Like shit.” A tear escaped the corner of Kristen’s eye, and Megan quickly reached for a tissue and handed it to her. “Sometimes I wish I were dead. It would be easier on me too, but I’m not a quitter. I may have fucked up, but I still know right from wrong.”