Prison Nation

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Prison Nation Page 21

by Jenni Merritt


  “I told you, Sheriff. This woman came across us when we were having our break. Offered herself to us. Well, we couldn’t resist that, could we?” He flashed a smile at Maria. I could see her shoulders heave as she let out another sob. “Well, we were about done with the fun when the slut said we had to pay. We follow the law, Sheriff. And prostitution and pimping are major felonies. We had no idea that she had planned to trap us like that. I swear.”

  I recognized the man. Searching my thoughts, I finally placed his smug face. The man in the restaurant. The one who had taunted Eddie, who had draped the woman across him like a cheap accessory. I stared at him in shock as he leaned close to the Sheriff. The innocent look on his face made me want to scream. It was obviously forced, almost mocking as he watched Maria. I looked over to the Sheriff and saw him nodding in agreement.

  The man went on. “Some of the fellows here had to detain her. She is a strong little whore. That’s what’s up with the…” He looked back at her a moment, his nose wrinkling up, “the revealing attire. We apologize for the way we brought her in, but the law is the law, right, Sheriff?”

  The Sheriff, still nodding, cracked a smile at the man. “It is Paul. That it is.”

  Maria, crammed in the corner, started to shake. I could see her balled tight, her shoulders shuddering uncontrollably. Pure terror ran through her eyes. The Sheriff looked over to her again, then nodded at the officer who stood next to the cell. The officer nodded back and turned to Maria

  “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you do say can and will be used against you −”

  “No!” Maria cried. “Please, don’t do this!”

  Without pausing, the officer continued.

  The man, Paul, leaned in to the Sheriff. “What are you going to book her on?”

  “Oh, the standard,” the Sheriff answered, ignoring the pleading of the bloodied woman. “Prostitution 1. Pimping. I bet there is some burglary or breaking and entering we can dig up.”

  Paul nodded, a disgusting smile spreading on his face. The other men in his group made their way out of the building. I could hear them chuckling and clapping each other on the back as they disappeared.

  The Sheriff leaned closer, his hand resting casually on Paul’s shoulder. I could see a splash of drying blood on the back of Paul’s arm. I swallowed hard, forcing down the churning in my stomach. “A bit excessive on the force, don’t you think Paul?”

  Paul’s shoulders shuddered as he let out a laugh. “I am proud of our oh-so-great Nation. I must do what I can, to prove that I am the good, the strong.” His voice came out sharp, spitting the words as he laughed again.

  The Sheriff shifted on his feet, smoothing his shirt as he made a point to avoid eye contact with Maria. “Any news on the apple contract?” he asked.

  Paul shrugged. “Nothing has changed. We managed to get it signed and stamped, now it’s processing. How ironic is it, that the apple pickers are sent to Spokane, then fed the very apples they picked? I’m telling you, that’s justice.”

  The Sheriff chuckled lightly. “See you tonight Paul? Eight o’clock?”

  “Yeah Dad, I wouldn’t miss dinner for nothing.”

  The Sheriff clapped Paul on the shoulder, chuckling.

  “Sheriff!” Maria cried. “Por favor. They… they raped me.” Her voice broke, choking sobs sending her body in convulsions again. “Please believe me. They raped…”

  The Sheriff let out a bored sigh, then followed Paul out the door as if Maria weren’t there at all.

  20

  “Okay,” I choked out, my body slamming back down onto the wooden bench.

  Reed stared into the window a moment longer, his lips so tight they were white. His breaths came in ragged gasps, uneven beats of loss and desperation. I could hear Maria sobbing, her voice carrying into the alley air where just moments ago there had been music. Her sobs mixed with Reed’s gasps became a haunting duet that brought stinging tears to my eyes.

  Reed turned and sank back onto the bench. He shut his eyes, his fingers rubbing over his clenched lids as if trying to smear out what we had just seen.

  Lifting his head, he finally seemed to remember that I sat there next to him. “Okay?” he asked, his voice sounding lost and distant.

  Maria’s sobs finally quieted. Through the window I only heard a soft whimper, her begging quieted and long since forgotten.

  “Reed, those men… that story they told the sheriff −”

  “I know, Millie.”

  “They never even let Maria speak! Just looking at her, you can tell she was…” My voice caught in my throat. Fog tempted me. I shut my eyes, forcing it to clear. This was Maria. Happy, welcoming, gentle Maria. It could so easily have been me. “He believed his son. Without a question.”

  “Family,” Reed’s voice sounded choked. “They like to believe lies more than truth, when it comes to those they love. It would be too much to admit your son is a monster. It is so much easier to see him as a hero.”

  I opened my eyes and turned to Reed, searching his own pain filled eyes. “What will happen to her?”

  Reed licked his lips, obviously trying to find a soft way to answer my searching question. “You already know, Millie. You grew up surrounded by women just like Maria.”

  “The women? They were prostitutes. They sold their own bodies for money, so they could buy drugs and who knows what else. They ruined the Nation.”

  Reed raised his eyebrows at me, his eyes almost begging. Could it be true? It was so easy to believe that they were all the criminals. Those women in the prison who strutted around, pushed themselves at the men, taunted the girls. I could see them now in my mind, walking in their tight groups, hands protectively holding each other, eyes always carefully watching every passing man even as their mouths said otherwise. Could they all be Marias, living to get by but always scared that their nightmare would just begin again?

  Orrin’s words crept into my mind. They lock away the people and make them become the criminals they so fear. Hearing Maria’s lost sobs behind me, I finally understood what he meant.

  “But, can’t we… couldn’t we just −”

  “No,” Reed said, stopping me. “We can’t. The law has already decided what the truth is. We can’t.”

  “In Prison Nation, the truth can’t set you free,” I muttered to myself. I thought back to my parents. To Orrin. To the workers who disappeared from the Orchard, the inmates who wandered lost and tear-streaked in Spokane. How many had a truth that would never be listened to?

  I reached over and grabbed Reed’s hand, my fingers lacing with his. “Okay,” I said firmly. “Let’s go.”

  “Go?” Reed asked cautiously.

  “I will go with you, Reed. Away from here. From the Nation.” I took a deep breath. “What just happened to Maria, that was a crime. And those men will do it over and over. How many more men are there in the Nation like that? And women? I thought… I thought the law protected me.” I lowered my eyes a moment, then looked back at him. “I don’t know if that’s true anymore. I don’t feel safe. And if you were to leave, I know I wouldn’t be safe.”

  Reed lifted his hand, letting mine fall into my lap as he cupped my cheek. Leaning close, I could feel his breath on my skin. It sent tingles down my body. “If I had to live without you, Millie. If for some reason you were gone… I would never have to think twice. I would miss you with every fiber of who I am.”

  A tear broke free from my eye. It trailed down my cheek, stopping to rest on Reed’s hand. In a soft flick, he wiped it away.

  “I will never leave you, Millie,” Reed said softly.

  “I know. Because I am going with you.”

  Reed let a soft smile spread on his lips. Without another word, he pulled me to my feet and rushed back to the truck. I was more than eager to leave behind Maria’s lost whimpers as she huddled locked and nearly naked in the cell behind us.

  It seemed like the town had barely faded away when I saw the white house loom in front of us
. Reed pulled the truck to a stop, dirt still flying behind it as he jumped out. I followed. We quickly made our way to my living quarters. I moved to step inside, when Reed grabbed my wrist.

  He turned it and lifted my sleeve. My metal bracelet dropped down into sight.

  “I forgot about this,” he said, his voice tense.

  “Can we take it off?” I asked.

  Reed shook his head. “You have to have a certain machine to take it off. They only keep them at the prisons or under lock and key. We don’t have time.”

  I stepped down off the step, peeling Reed’s fingers off my wrist and lowering my sleeve to cover the bracelet again. “It’s just an ID bracelet, Reed. It can stay on.”

  He opened his mouth to protest then stopped himself. “Okay,” he said. “Get your stuff. Quickly. I will go get Eddie and our stuff. Meet back at the truck.” I nodded to Reed then watched as he ran down the walk to his own living quarters. As soon as he disappeared inside, I turned and hurried down the hall.

  My room was just as I had left it. For some reason I had expected it to be different. To be torn apart, to see a roommate waiting to take over my space. Something. It hadn’t changed, yet things felt different. Something was missing. As I stepped inside, letting the curtain drape shut behind me, I could feel it.

  Maria didn’t lean against the door, welcoming me home with her English-Spanish mix. Maria, her entire presence, was suddenly gone from this room. It was gone from the building, from the Orchard. I felt a shudder go down my spine, realizing that she had just joined the horde of workers to disappear, never to be mentioned again.

  Without another pause, I snatched up my bag and hurried to the dresser. I shoveled my clothes into the bag, not taking the time to pack them neatly. The sock, filled with my remaining money and the small piece of sea glass, fell out of the pile. It hit the ground, its contents spilling out. Setting the bag on my bed, I knelt down on the ground.

  I had barely any money left. Even with my small pay I had received from the Orchard, the sock was nearly empty. After my discharge fees, and the research into my parent’s case, I barely had one hundred. Folding the money, I shoved it into my back pocket of my jeans. The piece of glass peeked out of the sock, its soft green glowing in the dim light.

  I let it drop into the palm of my hand. I didn’t know what Reed’s plan was. If he even had one. As I stared at the glass, I found myself hoping that we would somehow find our way to the beach. I wanted to see it. I wanted to feel what Orrin had felt that last time before his freedom had been taken away. That would never happen. The Wall was protected, built high and strong, the only ways through heavily guarded.

  We were all locked in.

  We were prisoners. This was Prison Nation.

  A tear broke free from my eye, streaming down my cheek. Orrin. I would never see him again. He would never see freedom again. He was forever locked away, charged for a crime he didn’t commit and knowing his family was slaughtered. The glass was all I had left.

  I wiped the tear from my cheek. As I moved to tuck the glass back into the sock, I felt the cool key brush against my chest under my shirt. I pulled it out, laying it in my hand next to the glass. The key was barely larger than the glass. I sat there, staring at the two small pieces.

  The fog crept in. It wanted to take over. It wanted to claim me.

  Bending down, I ran my fingers under the bed, searching. They finally ran over a small piece of wire that had fallen free from the springs. I stood back up, the wire pinched in my fingers. The fog taunted me as I carefully wrapped the wire around Orrin’s glass then fastened it to Jude’s key. I stared at the necklace in my hand, the green glow of the glass now reflecting off of the rusted key, my only reminders I had left of the life I had lived.

  I stared harder at the contents in my hand. Then something struck home.

  The key.

  I threw the necklace back around my neck and tucked it into my shirt, then quickly snatched up the last of my belongings. Ducking through the curtain, I left the small room without a second look. I didn’t need to say goodbye. This wasn’t home. It could never be home. It had been a temporary existence, a monitored life. This had been the second prison they had sentenced me to, and I was going to break free.

  | | |

  Reed and Eddie were standing next to the truck, leaned in close together as they talked in hushed voices. I hurried towards them, watching as they glanced once more at each other before separating and smiling at me.

  “Alright!” Eddie said, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s get this adventure going!”

  Reed grabbed the handle of the driver side door, pulling it open.

  “Reed, what are you doing?” I asked. “This is Oscar’s truck.”

  Reed glanced at Eddie, his hand flexing on the handle of the car. I could tell from the way they looked at each other that this is exactly what they had been discussing when I had hurried over.

  “Reed,” I stepped closer to him. “We can’t take Oscar’s truck.”

  Reed pushed the door shut, then fell against it. He leaned his head forward, running his fingers through his shaggy hair. “I know,” he said. “I know, I know.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Eddie said, his voice coming out shockingly angry. “Really, Reed? Are you going to care about that right now?”

  “Eddie, it’s not ours!” Reed said back, his voice rising.

  “Yeah. You’re right. It’s theft. Grand theft auto right? Punishable by up to thirty.” He motioned to me, his eyes flared with anger. “And you want her to come with us? She is on probation! If she is caught, she goes right back to Spokane, no more chances! And what about us? We are bailing out on our work contracts. That is against the blasted law too, Reed! Are you really caring about that crap right now?”

  Eddie’s voice was getting too loud. Reed stood up, looking around with wide eyes. Luckily no one looked to be in earshot of us. Yet. “Eddie, calm down. We just need to…”

  Eddie took a step toward Reed. I wanted to step in to stop him. I could see his fists clenching at his sides, his cheeks reddening with anger. I managed to utter a wimpy, “Eddie, please…”

  Eddie didn’t hear me. He was focused on Reed. “You come and get me, finally tell me we can get out of this Nation. And now you want us to what, walk? Hitch hike? Hell, why don’t we just go kindly ask them to let us out?”

  “Eddie! Will you shut up!” Reed yelled. I saw Eddie jump as the sudden boom of Reed’s voice. My own body tensed in surprise. Reed ran a hand through his hair again then turned to me. “How much cash do you have?”

  “One hundred. Barely.”

  “Okay.” He fished into his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills. Flipping through it, he pulled out a good chunk and handed it to me. “Add fifty to that.” Without asking, I pulled out fifty from my pocket and added it to the stack. “Eddie, you too.”

  Eddie opened his mouth to protest.

  “Eddie, just do it will you?” Reed shot at him before he could speak. Eddie huffed an angry breath, then pulled some money from his jacket pocket and slapped it onto the pile in my hands.

  Reed pulled open the truck door and crawled inside. I could hear him shuffle things around before he backed out. He held out a wrinkled envelope, partly torn open and obviously stepped on. “Let me see that,” he said, holding his hand out to me.

  I handed him the stack. He shoved it into the envelope, then pulled a pen out of his jacket pocket. He quickly scribbled ‘Oscar Ramos’ on the front of it, scratching out the other writing that was jotted all over the envelope.

  Mumbling something under his breath, Reed pushed past both of us and hurried to the house. He stopped by a door, its surface dirtier than the rest of the house. The doors around it looked new. This door was obviously used much more often. He stood for a moment, looking at it, then tucked the envelope under its stop and hurried back to us.

  Reed looked at me, his eyebrows raised in question. I nodded to him, shifting my bag on my shoulder. Si
ghing, he opened the passenger door for me then hurried back to the driver side.

  I climbed in, Eddie close behind me. Both men slammed the doors shut at the same time, the truck shaking as if afraid.

  We sat for a moment, looking at the large house in front of us. “Why did you do that?” Eddie asked, his voice finally cooling.

  “Oscar has been good to us, Eddie. The least we can do for taking his truck is leave him a little cash to find another one.” Reed looked down at the key in his hand, staring at it a moment before pushing it into the ignition. “We aren’t the criminals.”

  Eddie nodded.

  Reed turned the key, the engine rumbling to life. We backed out of the driveway and turned onto the old road. Silence took over the cab, the air tense and apprehensive. The truck bounced down the dirt road, past the town, and finally turned onto the old paved highway. There was no one else on the road. Nothing but dirt, dead grass, and the occasional lonely bird.

  “Hey man,” Eddie muttered finally. “I’m sorry.”

  Reed grunted, his lips tight. “You really need to learn to cool it, Eddie. That temper is going to get you killed someday.”

  Eddie chuckled, then playfully elbowed me. “Blame it on the hair,” he said, pointing to his messy red locks. “You know what they say. I have fire for hair, so must have fire for a temper. Stupid hair, huh?” I smiled at him, relieved to see the twinkle in his eyes. Eddie scared me when he lost his temper. He leaned past me, smacking Reed on the arm. “So, where to Captain?”

  I could hear Reed let out a slow breath. “I’m not really sure.”

  “Awesome.” Eddie slammed back against the seat again, turning to look out his window.

  “By night they will know we are gone,” Reed went on calmly. “They probably won’t care too much about you and me. Just put a warrant on our records and call it good. Millie though… they seem more protective of their prison born. I don’t know why.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

 

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