Inevitable Sentences

by Tekla Dennison Miller

  What if O’Brien pressed for that coffee date? What if Priscilla didn’t show up? What if Priscilla decided to turn her and Chad in and let the cards fall where they may? On the other hand, the ice-and snow-covered roads could stop Priscilla. No. Lizzie wouldn’t let those negative thoughts get in her way. The mission would be accomplished. Priscilla would be at Dead River Falls at five like planned. Priscilla had always been predictable. And O’Brien was too shy to push her further for coffee. Everything will be fine. She breathed heavily.

  “Have a problem with that brake, Ms. Chatfield?” Lou asked in a loud voice to be heard over the wind and through the closed window.

  Lizzie bolted upright, startled by Lou’s face pressed against the window. As usual, Chad, Charlie and Lou had met the truck. She motioned Lou to step back and opened the door. “Yeah. My shoe must be slick from all the snow and it slipped.” She hopped out of the cab, and she and the prisoners walked to the back of the truck. When she unlocked the door, they hoisted themselves inside the cargo area.

  “Unload everything but that cart in the corner.” Lizzie pointed to a stainless steel cabinet where pans for sheet cakes were usually stored. It stood nearly six feet high and was the perfect place to hide Chad. A bag with street clothes, including a down jacket, gloves and wool cap was concealed inside the cart at this moment. Chad would change into them while Lizzie drove to Dead River Falls.

  Lizzie also stowed a second small bag in the cabinet. It contained some clothes and toiletries for both of them. It was enough to get them to warm and sunny Mexico.

  All three prisoners unloaded the truck in silence. The supplies they carted would get them through most of the week. No one questioned the cabinet or why it would stay on the truck. They didn’t seem to care.

  When Lizzie closed the rear truck doors, she made sure they were unlocked. She usually would have secured them as policy required to prevent an inmate from hiding out inside and escaping, but today she would use her own operational procedure, allowing Chad to slip into the truck when no one watched.

  Once inside the kitchen, Lizzie and the men began preparing the evening’s meal. Lizzie tripped twice over the same rug and dropped the utensils she handed to Chad.

  “Better get a grip,” Chad said. His mouth curled at one corner. “We’ll never get dinner out on time otherwise. And,” he added with a lighter tone, “you know those boys won’t accept excuses for a late meal when they had to face a day of visitor no-shows because of the weather.”

  “Yeah. Ya got that right.” Lizzie also tried to sound cheery. She hadn’t planned on the no-show glitch. Her scheme wrapped around everyone’s attention being on visits. However, with the weather as it was, Chad was right; a lot of visitors wouldn’t be able to get to the prison, especially those coming up for overnight stays from the Lower Peninsula. Every nerve in her body fired. Would the escape plot be foiled by the very weather they had thought would be their ally?

  “Hey, Ms. Chatfield, are you with us?” Charlie called out.

  Lizzie jerked her head in his direction. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry. I’m thinking about the menus for the week.” Good recovery, she thought.

  “Well, damn, I’ve been talkin’ to ya for five minutes,” Charlie said. “We need your help over here.”

  “I haven’t been in here that long.” Lizzie gathered up the dinner menu and walked over to Charlie. She could feel Chad’s apprehension about her behavior burning into her back, knowing he was questioning her unusual actions. “I guess, guys, I’m tired like the rest of the employees in this joint. We’ve risked our lives to get here on the worst roads. You’re lucky to get a hot meal. The storm has knocked out heat and electricity in lots of homes around Marquette. Give a girl a break, will ya?”

  “Sorry, ma’am,” Charlie said.

  “Yeah, sorry,” Chad echoed with less conviction and obvious annoyance.

  Soon the kitchen hummed with the regular prisoner chatter and the clatter of pots and pans. The mixer whirled and the ovens warmed even the coldest part of everyone’s bodies. Thankfully, it was business as usual for the moment.

  When the applesauce-spice cakes were cooling, the roasted chicken legs and thighs, a Sunday dinner special and inmate favorite, were about ready to be pulled from the ovens. “Lou, get the mashed potatoes out on the heating trays. Charlie, you and Chad get the chicken out of the ovens and transfer them to the serving line, too. I’ll cut the cakes and then you can take them out.”

  Everyone scurried to complete their tasks, and Lizzie began slicing the cakes, but had to stop to settle the shaking in her hands. It was 4:15. She and Chad would be on their way in about fifteen minutes. She started cutting the cakes again into three-inch squares. As she cut, the inmates who would take over for Chad, Lou, and Charlie ambled into the kitchen.

  “You boys are late. Get yourselves a plate of food and join the others. Dinner’s on in less than fifteen minutes.”

  They grabbed plates and dished up food, then slouched over a counter and ate. None of them said a word.

  Lizzie carried the last of the cake pans to the serving line and eyed Chad as she passed him. She nodded slightly toward the dock, which was the signal for him to sneak out while the other inmates were scarfing down their favorite meal—giving it their full attention.

  Chad dropped his plate with a partially eaten meal on the drain board and walked unhurriedly toward the exit to the dock. He eased quietly through the door and was gone.

  Lizzie waited for someone to notice. No one did. Jones hadn’t made it in, so he wouldn’t be a problem either.

  If luck was on their side, Chad wouldn’t be missed until the next count in a couple of hours. Lizzie and Chad’s only problem would be the officer on duty in Chad’s cell block. He might notice he hadn’t signed in when he usually did. But then that officer had also pulled a double shift and hopefully wasn’t as alert as he should be. Maybe he’d think Chad got held over in the kitchen. Still, there seemed to be too many possible loopholes. Lizzie had to take each step as they planned and quit worrying about what might happen.

  Lizzie inspected the area. Her colleague was at the head of the serving line. She joined him and both checked the temperatures of the food. Once satisfied, Lizzie announced, “It’s all yours, Jacobson.”

  Jacobson tipped his finger to her. “Take it easy driving home. I had a hell of a time getting here.”

  “Thanks. Will do. I appreciate that you made it in to relieve me. See ya in a couple of days.” She smiled and checked to make sure the other officers were at their posts waiting for the inmates to come in and not in the kitchen, which they were.

  Lizzie left the chow hall. She took several deep breaths, said her good-byes to the kitchen inmates, then walked through the dock door and stood on the dock for a few moments to calm down. She had to be the exact same person she always was when she went through the salleyport.

  She opened one of the rear truck doors and inspected the area. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She whispered, “It’s showtime.”

  Lizzie secured the doors and fired up the truck, letting it idle to warm and clear the windshield. Like before, she had to get out and scrape the windows and the side mirrors. She hoped they’d stay clean because she didn’t want to have to stop on the road until they got to their meeting point with Priscilla. She climbed back into the cab and shifted the vehicle into drive.

  “This is it. Only one more stop and we’re clear,” she whispered.

  With each rotation of the truck’s wheels, Lizzie’s heartbeat increased. By the time she reached the salleyport, the throbbing nearly choked her. She squeezed her eyes shut and told herself to relax.

  Lizzie slammed the brakes again. “Damn.” She heard the cart carrying Chad skid across the floor and bang into the truck’s rear doors. She opened her eyes and saw Officer O’Brien peering through the window with a fist raised, about to knock. Lizzie rolled the window down.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “I’m tired and a
little queasy from something I must’ve eaten.” Lizzie rubbed her face with her cold gloves. “I can’t believe you’re still here.” She pushed the door open, hopped out of the cab, and raced to the rear.

  “My relief just got here. I’ll be on my way soon. The only thing good to say about overtime is that the money’s great.” O’Brien chased after her. “Hey. Where ya goin'? Ya know policy. I’ll check the truck and get you on your way.”

  They both reached for the door handles. “What are you doing?” O’Brien pressed.

  “A cart got loose. I heard it roll against the doors. The strap holding it must’ve worked free. I didn’t want you to be surprised by it toppling out on you.” Lizzie smiled. “That’s all.”

  “Oh. Thanks.” O’Brien swung the doors wide. The cart had indeed rolled to the threshold and stopped on a ridge near the doors.

  Lizzie’s heart skipped several beats and she bit down hard on her lower lip. Her throat felt like it was closing. She swallowed, trying to free it, and quickly lifted herself into the truck. “I’ll secure it.”

  She struggled to roll the cart back to its place. Although Chad’s added weight made it almost impossible, she couldn’t let O’Brien see her difficulty. Finally, she secured the cart, and this time checked it thoroughly to make sure it didn’t get free again. Then she turned and jumped down from the truck. “It’s all yours.”

  “I could’ve done that.” Was O’Brien questioning Lizzie’s odd behavior, or was he trying to be helpful?

  “That’s okay. I’m used to where the cart goes and it’s my responsibility to make sure it’s secure.” She smiled weakly and shrugged. What a dumb comment.

  Lizzie walked back to the cab and climbed in, making every attempt not to look anxious. Her heart pounded against her chest so hard she was afraid O’Brien could see it.

  She sat in the cab for what seemed like hours. Would O’Brien find Chad? She felt like she had to throw up. She grabbed the steering wheel and held on to it with such a force her hands hurt. “Come on, come on, O’Brien. Let’s get this over with.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

  Finally, O’Brien walked rapidly back to Lizzie. He handed her the manifest and said, “All clear. You should check the temperature in there, though. Either it’s too damn cold out here I can’t tell the difference, but it seemed on the warm side.”

  “Thanks. I’ve got a work order in on that. The temp gauge is off. I guess I need to put an order in about the strap for the cart, too.” She had adjusted the temperature so that Chad wouldn’t freeze on the long drive to the falls. She waited for a response from O’Brien or even an interrogation, but none came and she took her leave. “See ya in two days. Take care you stay awake driving home.” Did she sound too excited? Maybe even too happy?

  “I’ll do that.” O’Brien called for the gate to be opened and waved Lizzie through.

  Lizzie drove in the direction of the warehouse, holding back the Whoop! she wanted to scream out, and checked the truck’s mirrors—no one behind her and no one in front of her on the road.

  Lizzie grabbed her pack of Marlboro Lights from her jacket pocket and lit a cigarette. She took great pleasure in smoking in a state vehicle against policy. It was one more defiant gesture. Even though Chad wouldn’t like it.

  Lizzie passed the warehouse. No movement in sight. So far, so good. She couldn’t contain herself. She bounced up and down yelling, “Yahoo!” She pounded on the truck behind her to let Chad know they were clear of the gate and he could change his clothes, then stubbed out the cigarette and lit another one. She had to smoke as many as she could before she kept her promise to Chad that she’d quit.

  Lizzie took the truck onto the highway heading west of Marquette, and it slid going around the corner. The roads were bad and she slowed down. Better take more care, she told herself.

  Hardly any cars were on the road. The drivers in the few vehicles she passed wouldn’t pay attention to her because they were probably too concerned about negotiating the streets in the treacherous conditions. That was good for Chad and her, but only if they didn’t get stuck themselves. No sooner had she told herself that than Lizzie spied a police vehicle ahead with its pulsating red and blue lights broadcasting trouble. Flares spread across the lane warned approaching vehicles to slow down.

  Sweat began to ooze from under her wool cap down her forehead and into her eyes. No one could know this soon that Chad was gone, could they?

  Lizzie held her breath as she passed a car that had slid into a ditch. The policeman’s attention was completely on the victim. He never raised his head in Lizzie’s direction. Good luck was still with her. She gradually let her breath out and moved slowly onward.

  When Lizzie passed the Westwood Mall the memory of Stump tailing her flashed into her mind and she checked both side mirrors. No one was following her tonight.

  Although she wanted badly to gun the truck for the next few miles, she was sensible and stayed calm, driving carefully. It would have been stupid for them to get this far only to get stuck or spin off the road like the car she just saw. The next street was Wright, which she turned onto and traveled another half mile to Forestville Road.

  Lizzie checked the side mirrors. No sign of any other cars. She turned left onto Forestville, surprised to find the next two and a half miles had been plowed, no doubt to make sure workers could get to the powerhouse at Dead River Falls, which she now had in her sights. It was nearly over.

  Once over the bridge, she parked near the powerhouse and turned off the engine and lights, then sat there in a stillness that nearly overpowered her and held her in place. Lizzie checked for Priscilla, but she hadn’t arrived yet. It was only five and with the roads the way they were, Priscilla could be late. Lizzie pushed away the haunting thought that Priscilla might stand them up.

  When Lizzie was sure no one else lurked in the shadows or hid in the bushes, she got out of the cab and walked to the rear. No sooner had she opened the doors than Chad leaped out like a mountain lion pouncing on prey.

  “Jesus, it’s cold in there.” He pushed past Lizzie and headed to the driver’s seat.

  “Hello. Remember me? I’m your girl.” Lizzie sounded hurt. “Hey,” she yelled and followed him. “No celebration kiss? Aren’t you glad we made it?”

  Chad stopped and turned to Lizzie, who was eagerly waiting for the first embrace without fear of being caught by an officer. “Sorry.” Chad held out his arms and Lizzie fell into them. They held each other tightly.

  “I was damn cold. Plus, it really hasn’t hit me yet that I’m out.” He pushed Lizzie to arms’ length and viewed his surroundings. “Damn. We did it.” He quickly kissed her and hopped into the cab. “Get in and give me the keys. I need to get warm.”

  Lizzie tried to quell her disappointment. She wanted their kiss to be more passionate and last as long as those in a sexy scene from a movie. She attributed Chad’s lack of fervor to his anxiety about their escape, and, of course, riding for half an hour in a frigid truck wouldn’t stoke a man’s fire. They had plenty of time ahead for their fiery lovemaking.

  Lizzie hoisted herself onto the passenger seat and handed Chad the keys. He started the engine and cranked the heater on full blast. “Your friend isn’t here,” he shouted over the rush of hot air. He was angry.

  Lizzie lit a cigarette, forgetting that Chad would disapprove. “The roads are horrible. She’ll be here. Give her time.” Lizzie reached for Chad’s hand, but he pulled it away from her and grasped the wheel.

  “You need to relax, babe. We got a long night ahead of us.” She caressed his shoulder. Did she detect a slight twitch in answer to her touch?

  Chad grabbed the cigarette from her mouth. “I don’t want you to smoke in here.” He rolled the window down and tossed the cigarette into a snowbank. “I don’t want you to smoke, period.”

  Lizzie shrugged. “Okay. But don’t be pushing me around like you own me.”

  “I’ll do as I please.” Chad stared at the windshield. “We’ve had qu
ite a night already.” Chad responded to her earlier comment as though it had just registered. “It’s nearly over, though.”

  Chad’s tone was flat as though he had something else on his mind. What was going on here? He seemed distant one moment and acted like a bully the next. Lizzie reasoned that, like her, he’d probably be on edge until the whole ordeal had come to an end. When they got to Mexico.

  Chad rubbed his glove over the windshield, creating a circle in the fogged glass, and peered out. “Need to get the defroster fixed.” He chuckled. “What do I care if the damn thing works or not?”

  Lizzie laughed nervously. Chad sounded more relaxed. “We won’t have a care in the world in a few days.” She paused. “Your mother did get the plane tickets, didn’t she? And the passports from that guy you said you knew? Because we need to get outta the states as soon as we can.”

  Chad swung around and slammed Lizzie against the door. He pressed both hands against her shoulders. “Don’t you ever question me or what I’ve done. You are no longer my boss and you never will be again.” He pronounced each word as though it stood alone. “Got it?” He pushed his fingers deep, nearly reaching Lizzie’s bones beneath her down parka.

  “You’re hurting me,” she gasped and tried to pry his hands away, unsuccessfully. “Are you crazy? I’m on your side, or did you forget that?”

  “Got it?” he repeated. “Answer me when I talk to you.”

  “Yeah.” The word barely slipped from her mouth. “I got it.” Now Lizzie was frightened. This was a side of Chad she had never seen before, except that one time a couple of days ago in the kitchen. He must be scared. Again she consoled herself, knowing this edginess would go away when they were safe in Mexico.

  Chad eased away from Lizzie, breathing heavily. He rubbed the circle again in the window. “Your so-called friend is still nowhere in sight.”

  Lizzie rolled her shoulders to relieve the pain. “She’ll be here. Be patient.”

  “I’ve been patient.” Chad pounded his hand against the steering wheel. It vibrated in response. “For way too long. It’s time to get my plan rolling.”