by Libby Klein
“’Sup?” Tawnika gave me a head nod. “She means you ain’t neva been arrested befoe.”
“Oh. No. First time.”
“The first time is always the hardest.” Bebe patted my hand and popped her gum. “You’ll get used to it.”
Dear God, I hope not. “How many times have you been in here?” I asked.
“A couple.”
Tawnika snorted from across the room, and Bebe turned and looked down her nose at her.
The officer who had taken my fingerprints came back into the holding cell area.
“Heyyy, Dan.”
“Bebe, what are you doing in here again?”
“The boys in blue keep targeting me. It’s not fair.”
“Uh-huh. I hear you keep propositioning undercover cops.”
“I’m just friendly. They assume the worst.” Bebe batted her eyes—the picture of innocence.
“Offica Dan”—Tawnika left her perch across the cell and came up to the metal door—“did they call my parole offica yet?”
“I’m not sure. It’s been crazy out there. Hurricane Mavis is causing a lot of nine-one-one calls from scared citizens. Mrs. Gershner’s called in three times to report prowlers every time a tree scrapes against her bay window. Why?”
“This my third strike for possession and I don’t wanna go back to Edna Mae. I told you guys that stuff wasn’t mine this time. Moniqua planted it on me ’cause she thinks I’m steppin’ out with Darrel again.”
“Look, Tawnika, there’s nothing I can do until your parole officer gets here. But it was a small amount of weed and if it had been your first offense you’d have been let off with community service. I’ll talk to Carl and see what I can do.”
“Thanks, Dan. You da best.”
The officer turned to me. “You have someone trying to post bail for you, but it’s taking a little time because it’s the weekend and it’s hard to find a judge around to sign off. Especially with you being from out of state and all.”
“Someone is posting bail? Who? I haven’t called anyone.”
God knows Sawyer and Aunt Ginny don’t have any money, and I’d let Lifetime do a reality show about my life in the big house before I’d call my mother-in-law to bail me out.
“I don’t know. They didn’t tell me. I just thought you’d want to know.”
“Thank you.”
The officer left and Bebe and Tawnika turned to me with fascination.
“You haven’t even made a phone call yet?” Bebe asked, then popped her gum again.
I shook my head no.
“Why? What you in here for?”
“Murder,” I mumbled.
Bebe’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head and her gum fell out of her mouth and landed on the toe of her boot.
“Girrrl, who’d you ice?” Tawnika slid down on the other side of Bebe and leaned in. “Come on now, just between us.”
“I’m telling you, I didn’t ice anyone. I’m innocent.”
Tawnika folded her arms across her chest and leaned back to size me up.
Both women, well, both people looked at me with skepticism. Bebe held my gaze while she unwrapped another piece of Juicy Fruit from her bra and popped it in her mouth. “I thought you were in my line of work from the way you were dressed, honey.” Bebe tsk-tsked and shook her head in disbelief.
“You think I’m dressed like a hooker?” I blurted out the words before I could stop myself.
“Well, not a good one,” Bebe answered defensively.
Great. I’m not even good enough to be a prostitute. Another tear burned down my cheek and I let it fall.
“Well, goodness, it can’t be all that bad. A good lawyer can get you cleared with a self-defense plea.” Bebe patted my arm.
“If dat don’t work, you can always go for insanity. Judging from yo dress an’ yo hair that might be the easy route if you don’t mind spending a couple years in da padded palace.”
My lip started to quiver and a sob caught in my throat.
“Oh, come on now, I’m just yankin’ yo chain. What got you so uptight?”
“Look, I appreciate your help, I do. But my life is falling apart right now and I need this time to focus on my plan for jumping off a bridge later.”
Bebe gave Tawnika a knowing look and in unison they said, “Midlife crisis!”
“You a rich white girl. How bad can it be?” Tawnika asked.
That made me indignant and I started rambling off my laundry list of grievances. “First of all, I’m not rich. My mother-in-law is. And by the way, there’s a lot more to life than money. I had hopes and dreams and I flushed them away. In the game of life, my hand is a crap straight! Where is the excitement? Where is the passion? Where is the purpose for getting up every morning? I’ve been a good girl and obeyed all the rules and look where it got me. In prison for a crime I didn’t commit. There has to be more to life than this.”
Bebe and Tawnika were looking at me with matching expressions of astonishment.
“Pshhh. Rich people problems,” Tawnika chuckled. “In my neighborhood people just want food and not getting hit.”
“Honey, in my house the only hopes and dreams we had were not to be held down and burned with cigarettes when our old man came home drunk.”
That deflated me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
“Of course you didn’t. Because you’re so wrapped up in your ‘poor little me’ script that you can’t see what’s going on with nobody else. You think you’re drowning in an ocean of misfortune, but you’re swimming in a fishbowl of self-pity.” Bebe wagged her finger at me and moved her head in a little circle.
I thought facing a murder rap was the perfect time for self-pity.
“Mmmmm-mmm!” Tawnika hammered it home. “Life ain’t easy for no one. People face very tough situations every day. You can keep wallowing in misery or pick yoself up and do what tough people do: fight back!” She made a fist and punched her palm. “No one else gonna do it for you. Either that or you can just let yourself drown. Up to you, girl.”
“You’re wasting all that emotion on depression when you could direct it into something useful like determination.”
“Or an escape plan,” Tawnika added.
“You need to decide, are you a quitter or a survivor?” Bebe stood up and started pacing in front of the little bench. “See me, I’m a survivor. People been trying to keep me down my whole life. Life keeps kicking me, but I’m not giving in. I just keep on getting back up. I’m fighting for what I want. No one’s going to determine my fate but me. If there’s a happy ending out there, I’m going to find it.”
Maybe it was the desperation talking, but Bebe and Tawnika were making a lot of sense. Life had beaten them down many times and even now, in jail, they weren’t giving up. I’d hermited myself away in a two-story, white brick colonial after the first curve ball was thrown at me. I thought my destiny was forever sealed the minute that pregnancy test was positive, but all I ever had to do was choose a different way. I could have stood up to Georgina. I could have chosen to go back to college. I could have adopted a child.
Goose bumps ran up my arms as realization dawned. I could choose now. The fog lifted from my brain and plowed the apathy away. Fury rose from somewhere deep within my soul and the heat burnt up the fear that had held me in bondage. Invisible chains fell away and my heart felt lighter. My shoulders rolled back and I sat up a little taller and looked Bebe in the eyes.
“You’re right. I’m tired of being ashamed. I’m tired of letting everyone else decide what I can and can’t do. I’m done feeling sorry for myself. My whole life I’ve sat around longing for what could have been but I never got up and did anything about it. I’ve let fear hold me back. Things are going to be different from now on. I’m not giving up. I’m taking charge here and now!”
Bebe was hopping up and down. “Now, that’s what I’m talking about. You go, girl!”
Tawnika was punching the air. “You gotta punch the system right in the
neck!”
“Okay! I don’t know what that means but I’m ready!”
I was caught up in their excitement. Then an invisible force sucked the energy right out of the room. There was a commotion coming down the hall and we could hear someone shouting f-bombs and threatening to get even when they got out.
“Oh, great.” Tawnika and Bebe looked at each other with unspoken alarm. Then Tawnika headed over to the other side of the cell to reclaim her original spot on the bench with her back to us, muttering, “Just what I need tonight.”
“Now listen, honey . . .” Bebe quickly flounced back in her seat. “Don’t mess with Big Shirley, okay? She’s mean. Real mean. And it sounds like she’s in one of her moods. So just keep your head down and don’t make eye contact.”
Oh my God. What’s happening? I felt adrenaline rising back up and the instinct to try to run or hide kicked in, but there was nowhere to go.
Two officers were coming down the corridor on either side of a very large white woman with short-cropped blond hair. She was wearing a plaid flannel shirt and overalls and her hands were handcuffed in front of her, but that didn’t stop her from fighting against them like a rhino trying to escape the poachers.
“Get your hands off me, pig! I know the way!”
One officer opened the cell and pushed her in, then slammed the door shut.
“That’s police brutality! I know my rights!” she yelled, then spit on the floor.
Bebe sat there chewing and popping her gum like nothing out of the ordinary was happening. I felt myself staring at Big Shirley, and Bebe jabbed me in the ribs with her elbow. “Eye contact,” she hissed.
“What do you want?” Big Shirley came at me like she was looking for a fight. Which, if I were a betting woman, I’d wager was the very reason she was in there.
I felt myself staring at her, my mouth hanging open like a fish. She had an evil glint in her eyes and I couldn’t look away.
“You’re just begging for a beating, aren’t you, Fatty? Well, you’re in luck because I have one more beating left in me tonight.” She cracked her neck side to side and took a step toward me. Bebe scampered off the bench and over to Tawnika’s side of the cell.
No, I thought. Enough is enough. I’m not going to be bullied. I am not powerless. No one is going to make me feel ashamed and belittled ever again.
Feeling as if my spine had just grown superhuman strength, I stood up and put on my I will kill face, the one I’d only used once before when I discovered that someone had eaten the frozen Snickers bar I’d hidden in the back of the freezer.
“Let me tell you something, you giant sack of refuse,” I growled at her.
“Oh no, she did not just say that,” Bebe breathed.
“I’ve been to hell and back today and there is nothing you can do to hurt me more than life already has. Anything you can dish out, I can take it. But if you think I’m going down without fighting back you are dead wrong, woman, because I’m a survivor!”
Bebe and Tawnika seemed to gain confidence with every word I jabbed at Big Shirley’s face, and now they were behind her silently encouraging me. Tawnika was motioning for me to hit Big Shirley in the kidney, and Bebe was motioning for me to duck and cover my face.
Big Shirley’s expression went from confusion to shock to rage. She hunkered down and grunted like she was preparing to ram me. I steeled myself, and put my fists up to block her the best I could. Something behind me caught her eye and she stopped.
“That’s enough, ladies. Don’t make me tase you again, Big Shirley.”
I didn’t take my eyes off of Big Shirley, but I recognized the voice of Officer Amber right in front of the cell door.
“Ms. McAllister, we’re not charging you at this time. We’re releasing you pending further inquiries. But know that this is an open investigation and you are a prime suspect. Provisional bail has been posted so you’re being released to your friend here. You’re free to go, but don’t try to leave town.”
I slowly turned, still not trusting Big Shirley not to try a last-minute charge. Standing next to Officer Amber in a starched white chef’s coat was the last person I wanted to see on the most humiliating day of my life.
Tim had come to bail me out.
Chapter 12
Awkward does not justly describe my ride home. I was humiliated to the core. Over the years I’d fantasized about running into my ex-boyfriend. I’d be skinny and gorgeous, my hair and nails would be impeccable, and I would ooze sexy. His jaw would drop as he openly gaped at my beauty, and he’d tell me he was a fool not to fight for me all those years ago.
Now here I was sitting in his stupid little black Kia, the radio tuned to the oldies station and a bikini-model bobblehead mocking me from the dashboard. The back seat was littered with fast food wrappers and an empty pizza box. I had frizzed-out hair, a broken nail, mascara streaks running down my face, and my eyes were puffy and red from crying. My dress was molting, and my belly roll had flopped over my seatbelt in a very Here Comes Honey Boo Boo kind of way. I tried sucking it in, but I was too tired to hold my breath very long. What I wanted right now, more than anything, was a rock to hide under.
Tim sat with his hands gripping the steering wheel at ten and two, looking straight ahead. We drove along in eerie quiet for about ten minutes, the only sound coming from the rhythmic thu-thumps on Route 47, until I couldn’t stand it anymore.
“You didn’t have to post bail. I’m sure Aunt Ginny would have come along eventually.”
Tim answered, the strain in his voice evident, “I couldn’t just leave you there. Despite everything . . .” He trailed off into awkward silence, then cleared his throat. After a moment he tried again. “When I heard about the murder I knew there was no way you could do anything like that. Not even to that nasty piece of work.”
“I’m sure the whole town has heard about what happened by now. If not, they can watch my arrest on YouTube.”
“Well, people will always find a way to gossip about what is none of their business.”
I felt the heat flush down my neck. There was a definite edge to his voice. Are we still talking about Barbie?
Silence.
“How in the world did you come up with that kind of money?”
“I put up my bistro.”
Oh my God! “You did not have to do that. I will pay you back.” If I can get Georgina to unfreeze some of my assets, which will be like convincing a gorilla to give up her kitten.
“It’s not a big deal. And as long as you don’t try to skip town I’ll get it back.”
I felt like all the air was sucked out of the car. I cut my eyes to him and caught him watching me. His face broke into a grin . . . and I was sixteen again. Stupid butterflies were doing the cha-cha in my heart, as if they didn’t know how ridiculous the situation was. Tim breathed out a laugh and looked away. It was small but so familiar. My mind was flooded with memories from high school: Tim trying to reassure me about a test that I thought I’d failed; Tim taking up for me after someone had hurt my feelings; Tim sitting on the porch telling me we would make the long-distance relationship work.
“Tim, you’ve always been so good to me. I know I don’t deserve it. I’m just so sorry about . . . everything.”
Silence. I’d just made it awkward again. Way to go, Poppy. After a couple minutes he broke the tension.
He turned to me again for a moment, his eyes soft and wistful. “Poppy, we were kids. We both made mistakes. Let’s just try to put it behind us and move on with our lives.” He reached out a hand and patted me on the shoulder, then shook off a stray ostrich feather.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I tried to find the words to respond. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Why don’t we meet for coffee later this week and catch up.”
I paused, trying to let the gravity of his request sink in, but my focus was cut short by the radio and Jon Bon Jovi, belting out “Shot through the heart and you’re to blame / Darlin’, you give lov
e a bad name.”
I swallowed a big gulp of air and started coughing and choking on nothing. It startled Tim, and he jerked the wheel, then had to swerve the car back out of the wrong lane.
“Whoa, are you okay?”
I held one finger up and shook my head yes, still unable to speak. Tim was looking from me to the road, then back to me again.
“I’m fine,” I croaked. “You just caught me by surprise.”
“By inviting you to coffee?” He laughed. “Why?”
“Because of our history. Because you just sprang me out of a jail cell.” Because I look like a fat, pink-and-yellow cow. “Because I feel humiliated. Pick one.”
We pulled up in front of Aunt Ginny’s house, and Tim put the car in park. “Poppy, you have no reason to feel humiliated. It’s me. Besides, I think you could use a friend right now.”
A friend. Oh. How stupid can I be? He’s extending an olive branch for old times’ sake.
I stared dumbly. I knew I should say something, but my mind was blank. The past twenty-four hours were like a really bizarre dream.
“Do you have a cell number?”
I nodded and gave it to him.
“Expect me to call you later.”
I nodded again and got out of the car. I think I gave him a finger wave good-bye. Somehow I managed to get into the house and up to my room. The barest hint of light was breaking through the dark night sky. It would be dawn in another hour or so. I knew I should start looking for a lawyer and planning my defense.
I was sound asleep before my head hit the pillow.
Chapter 13
I was walking through a crush of students in hallway D to an advanced math class. The stack of textbooks in my arms was getting heavy. I entered the classroom and took my seat. The teacher was writing complex equations on the board, and I didn’t understand any of them.
Something was wrong. There was a strange vibe in the air. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something was out of place. Fear started to coil around me.
This isn’t my class. I’m not supposed to be here, but I don’t know where to go.
