Incarcerated: Letters From Inmate 92510

by Inger Iversen

  “I’ll be fine here.” She wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and watched as he sipped his water.

  After placing the cup down, he pushed it away. “And if you lose power?” He raised a brow as if to say, ‘what then?’

  “Dad, I’ve got plenty of fire wood and a cell phone if the power goes out. I’ll be fine.”

  Not one to give up, he added, “Maybe you can call Teal over. Then you can have a sleepover, or whatever it is that you girls do.” He rubbed his eyes and Katie could see he was tired.

  He’d stopped over before work, which was early as hell since he was always in the office by seven thirty. Katie listened as he spoke. There was never a day she thought her father wanted anything more than the absolute best for her, but his methods had grown tiresome.

  “We don’t have sleepovers, we go out to dinner, have lunch, or get coffee.” Katie wiped imaginary crumbs off the table, waiting for the real reason he’d come over.

  He pulled his Blackberry from his pocket and placed his thumb on the reader. “Just make sure you call her,” he said as he read what she assumed was an email.

  Jan-Erik didn’t do text messages; he’d ignore the texts or respond to it in email form. It used to annoy her, but over time, she realized her father had a reason for everything he did. That didn’t change the fact that oftentimes, it made absolutely no sense to her.

  Katie smiled, of course her father would want someone with her during the storm, but the only person Katie could think about was Scott. They’d spoken every day since his first call, and she’d come to look forward to the icy, compassionless automated voice that introduced her to her daily escape.

  She looked up at her father, who was tapping out an email. She thought of her confession to Scott and the words burned her lips, willing—maybe even begging—her for their escape. Her heart hung heavy in her chest as she imagined the disappointment from her father if she told him her secret. But, damn how good it’d felt to tell someone, even if he was a convict serving time for armed robbery. She’d be damned if she’d judge him anymore than she already had. She hadn’t expected such honesty from him, but he’d given it freely and she’d given him the same in return. It was because of that honesty, Katie had decided that when he called this afternoon, she’d tell him her real name. He at least deserved to know that.

  Thick fingers appeared in front of her face and snapped, once and then twice. “Where’d you go, little girl?” Jan-Erik’s look of concern pulled her from her thoughts.

  She rubbed her eyes and shook her head. “Nowhere, it’s early and I’m still a bit tired.” Her father stood and took his glass to the sink.

  “Who was on the phone?”

  Silently, Jan-Erik rinsed the glass out and placed it on the drain board. Something like indecision or confusion spread across his face before he asked, “You want to tell me something?” He turned to her, and Katie’s heart jumped into her throat.

  Swallowing hard, she forced words out of her mouth. “Umm . . . no, not that I can think of.” If he knew she’d been talking to Scott he’d put an end to it real quick, but looking at her father she wasn’t sure if he was talking about Joe or Scott.

  He nodded, but Katie could tell there was something important on his mind. “I forget sometimes that you are twenty-five.” His comment threw her off.

  “Okay?” Her brow furrowed and she narrowed her eyes.

  He crossed the room and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Katie reached up, grabbing his warm hand. His smile was sad and had her a bit worried. Maybe it was something completely different, she thought. Maybe he had bad news of some sort. However, before she could ask him, he spoke.

  “Your father can’t be the one to find you a man, can he?”

  Katie expelled a breath and squeezed his hand again. “No, Dad, you can’t.”

  Jan-Erik moved away and reached for his coat. “Make sure you call Teal,” he reminded her as he put on his suit jacket and walked into the foyer. “And I’ll have David bring over some batteries, candles, and more fire wood.”

  Sighing, Katie rolled her eyes. “Dad, I have all of that stuff right out in the shed.” She reached for his coat, removing it from his hand. “I don’t need anymore. There’s like a hundred dollars’ worth of batteries out there now.” She helped him into his coat, and then stood on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. “I sure as heck hope batteries don’t go bad.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “That’s the first problem, all of the things you need are outside when they should be close, and you know better. Now, make sure you check the box for an expiration date.”

  Katie ignored the admonishment and hugged her father closer. She loved him with all of her heart, which was one of the main reasons she wouldn’t tell him about the miscarriage. She couldn’t take a grandkid from him even if it’d only been two months old and the size of a jellybean. Her stomach fluttered, and the absence of her child brought tears to her eyes. The fact that her father had tried so hard to find her a good man, in hopes she’d someday marry and have kids with him, burdened her. She’d let him down, and she didn’t have the courage to tell him.

  “I feel like I’m in high school again,” Katie admitted with a smile. She was of course talking about the good days in high school when she wasn’t being teased or ignored.

  Scott chortled in what sounded like disbelief. “What? How so?”

  She didn’t want to sound like a moonstruck fool, but waiting by the phone for a guy to call brought back good and bad memories. She cuddled up under her blanket, moving the phone to her other ear so she could get comfortable. “Well, I guess you wouldn’t know what I’m talking about since you were never the one sitting by the phone waiting for a guy you liked to call you.”

  He groaned, and Katie smiled at the affect she had over him at times. “So you do like me? And here I thought you only tolerated me because you had nothing else to do but wait for your novel to come back from the editor.” Katie could hear the laughter in his voice.

  “Maybe it started that way, but things change.” She wondered if things were different, if they’d spontaneously met, if he would be interested in her. She didn’t know what he looked like, but his damned voice made her stomach drop and her heart thunder.

  Scott’s voice grew serious. “What changed, Kristen?” At the sound of her fake name, Katie realized how silly it was to think that the two of them could ever be anything more than pen pals. What was even more ridiculous was the fact that she had told him about the night she’d lost her child, but she couldn’t tell him her real name. She wanted his time and honesty, but she hadn’t given him a hundred percent of what she demanded of him.

  “Kathryn Andreassen,” she blurted.

  “Who?”

  The confusion in his voice almost made her laugh, but fear that he’d be pissed she lied kept the laughter at bay. “Scott, when I first signed up for this program, I . . . I didn’t give my real name.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  There was an edge to his voice that she’d not heard before. It didn’t sound like disappointment or even anger. “I was nervous about what I was doing and I—”

  “You wanted anonymity,” he finished. “I get that.”

  Yeah, well, at least she had wanted it at that time. “So you aren’t mad?” She sat up, comforted by how well he’d taken it.

  “Not at all.”

  Confused, Katie asked, “Why?”

  A beat of silence passed before Scott spoke. “Because I did the same. My name isn’t Scott, its Logan. Logan Whyte. I lied for a different reason, though.”

  The relief she’d just felt plummeted, and goose bumps settled over her skin.

  “I didn’t want you to look me up and see what I’d done before I had a chance to tell you myself. By the time we’d gotten to the point where we could be straightforward with each other, I honestly forgot to tell you my real name.”

  Katie was about to speak when the one-minute warning sounded, alerting
them that the collect call was about to disconnect.

  “Kris— I mean Kathryn—”

  “Call me Katie, everyone does.”

  “Okay. I’ll call you right back, I need to talk to you about something.” Logan hung up before Katie had a chance to reply.

  She pressed the end button, got out of bed, and went to glance out the window. The snow was coming down in sheets, but in Vermont that wasn’t a big issue. It was the low visibility that worried Katie. The phone sounded and she placed it to her ear, listening as the automated voice droned on. Once she pressed one, Logan’s deep voice came on the line.

  “Sweetheart, I want to talk to you about your phone bill.”

  Katie groaned and sat down in her desk chair; she was scared as hell to look at her bill.

  “Yeah, I know, but I enjoy talking to you. Your voice is the highlight of my day. I have an idea though.”

  Katie perked up. “I’m listening.”

  “Good, that’s my girl.” Whenever Logan called her things like his girl, honey, or sweetheart, her heart fluttered. “I’m going to get my lawyer to add money to my canteen. That way, I can call you and they’ll charge it to me. How’s that sound?”

  Katie bit her lip. They hadn’t talked about financials, and she wasn’t sure what money Logan had . . . if any at all. “Are you sure? I mean, I haven’t gotten my bill yet, so it might not be too high.”

  Logan grunted, and Katie had heard that sound enough to know that he didn’t agree. “No, it’s going to be sky high, and if you have a hard time paying it you let me know.” He sounded so sincere that Katie’s stomach fluttered.

  “I’ll be fine,” she whispered.

  “Don’t be shy. If you can’t pay it, you let me know.” He repeated.

  “I will.” She knew she could afford it, but she wasn’t excited about seeing it. “So your lawyer is going to give you the money?” Seemed like a nice thing to do, but Logan had expressed to her many times that he didn’t like the man.

  “No, my friend, Trent, sends me my money. I sold my truck and put him in charge of my finances. I trust him with my life,” he said earnestly.

  “Sounds like a good guy.” Katie felt the same way about Teal, even though the woman seemed to want to take her dead mother’s place.

  “He saved my ass from the black kids that constantly thought they saw a target on my ass. I swear, I was eighteen, white, and a bit chunky, and that’s all it took for those thugs to want to kick my ass.” He let loose a hollow laugh. Pain radiated from it, and Katie heard it loud and clear.

  She wasn’t sure what to say, but if she hadn’t known before she knew now that Logan was white. That discovery aside, Katie had also had her share of times when black kids picked on her, but it wasn’t just black kids. It was black and white kids. Both races had their assholes.

  “I know the feeling. When I was younger, I was never sure what made kids think I was such an easy target, but they did and I suffered.”

  Logan’s voice grew gentle. “Baby, it’s because they are jealous of you. I know that’s a parental thing to say, but it’s true. They want what we have, and when they can’t have it, they steal it. Mexicans, too. They just stood and watched as I got the shit kicked out of me.”

  Katie couldn’t help but feel sorry for Logan. “At least you had Trent. I’m glad you didn’t have to go at it alone.” And that was the honest truth. She had friends, but never ones who would stick around long enough, or even through the entire year. Logan’s situation would have been a lot worse if not for Trent, Katie was sure of it. She at least had her mom and dad and later on, Teal, but Logan only had his drunken uncle, Luke. “Things could have been real bad if he hadn’t helped, huh?”

  “I probably would have gotten killed, so yeah, things would’ve been real bad if he hadn’t come along. Trent was into some real crazy stuff, and those thugs went running scared.” He laughed. “After that, I shaved my head, worked out every day, got a few custom tattoos, bought a gun, and dared those assholes to come near me.” Katie imagined a tall, well-built man, covered with tattoos, and a gun in his waistband. Besides the gun, the rest made a very sexy picture, even if she couldn’t imagine his face.

  She lowered her voice, hoping to change the subject. “The picture you just painted doesn’t sound very intimidating to me.”

  “Oh yeah?” She could hear him lick his lips. “What kind of picture are you imagining over there?” The timbre of his voice changed, leaving behind the anger and bringing forth something sexier, decadent even. After he’d hit on her during their first phone call—forcing her to hang up on him—she noticed he’d been choosing his words very carefully. However, little by little he’d been breaking down her walls, and on top of that, her loneliness was starting to get the better of her.

  “Well,” she adjusted herself comfortably on her bed, “I can’t see your face of course, but you’ve said you are six foot two, you’ve worked out for the past fifteen years, and you eat right, taking pride in your body.” Katie sighed, and then let loose a little moan of appreciation. “You see what I’m getting at here?”

  “Shit,” Logan whispered. “Yeah, I think I can see where your mind is going. You want to tell me more about that?”

  Katie exhaled. “What the heck am I doing?” She sat up, her face hot with more than just nervousness. “I’m sorry.”

  “Goddamn, girl. Don’t be sorry, be honest and tell me what you were thinking.” His voice was gruff, but not with anger.

  Katie covered her mouth to keep her delighted laughter in.

  At her silence, he whispered not unkindly, “Tease.”

  “You know I don’t mean to be,” she said honestly. Katie was horny and so was Logan; she guessed eventually they’d joke and flirt about it, but that was it.

  He cleared his throat, but she caught laughter in it. “I’m not sure. Babe, I’m gonna let you go. I need to call Trent and set up the money transfer to my canteen.”

  Katie placed as much pout in her voice as she could. “Fine.” She could keep him on the phone longer if she wanted to, but she really did want him to set up a calling plan for them.

  He groaned again, and Katie wasn’t too sure he was actually going to be making a phone call when he hung up, but maybe handling some personal business. Shame hit hard. She wasn’t a tease, and she didn’t want Logan rubbing one out on his own because of her. She sweetened her voice and said, “I have some preparing to do for this storm anyway, so I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Okay, I’ll have the calling plan set up by then. Talk to you later.” At that, he hung up.

  Standing, Katie stretched her legs. The warmth in her belly hadn’t subsided, and she realized she wasn’t the only one who needed some sort of release. She couldn’t keep teasing Logan, because in the end, she ended up suffering the same—if not more. Okay, maybe not. After all, Katie had the privacy of her own home to “double click her mouse” but if Logan wanted to enjoy the “five knuckle shuffle” he’d have to do it with some unwanted company.

  Katie giggled as she headed down the hall to dress for the storm starting outside. Her dad was right, she should have gotten the firewood earlier, but the weatherman claimed that she still had some time to prepare for the upcoming blizzard. However, once outside, Katie thought differently. Snow fell from the sky with a vengeance, the wind howled loud and long as she headed to the shed with the key in her hand. She was on a mission: batteries, her cordless phone to talk to Logan, and more firewood.

  Snow fell in heavy sheets all around her, and after living in Vermont for the last few years, Katie had learned the difference between heavy snowfall and a damned oncoming blizzard. Weatherman and his week be damned, a very bad storm was coming and Katie prayed she was right when she told her dad she was ready for it.

  Logan ended the call before he could say some sappy shit like, “miss you.” He dialed his buddy Trent’s number and placed the phone to his ear. Katie’s last name sounded familiar, but more so it sounded European. She
’d told him that her father hailed from Sweden. Still, the name bounced around in his head, tugging at his memory.

  After Logan recorded his name and waited for his call to be accepted, Trent’s gravelly voice filled the line. “What’s goin’ on, man?”

  Logan enjoyed his familiar voice; it reminded him of home and all of the days before prison. “Nothing, just waiting ‘til my time is up,” Logan answered. “How is Shayla doing?” Shayla was his on-again, off-again crazy ass girlfriend. Logan always thought she was more trouble and drama than she was worth, but Trent never listened.

  He sighed into the phone. “Bein’ a terror as usual. She packed up and left, took my fuckin’ truck, too.”

  Logan had had his fair share of women who’d added more stress to his life than necessary, but he wasn’t like Trent . . . no amount of sex could make him deal with the heap of shit Trent was dealing with. “I told you, man, she was going to take that truck. She was always asking to drive it. Anyway, I need you to fill my canteen so I can make a calling plan.” Logan could hear Trent moving around in his place, most likely to get his ledger out of his desk.

  “All right, how much you need in there?” Trent asked.

  From what Logan understood, collect calls from prison were expensive, he just didn’t know the cost per minute. “How much is it when I call you?”

  “’Bout twenty-five cents a minute, so a fifteen minute call is ’bout three dollars and seventy-five cents. Debit and prepaid calls are twenty-one cents a minute. So, what do you need? Like thirty or forty bucks?”

  Logan called Katie at least four or five times a day. The call center was open from eight a.m. to ten p.m., and whenever he missed her voice, he’d call her. “More like two hundred,” Logan corrected.

  “Damn, man, who you callin’?” Trent exclaimed. Logan could hear him scribbling in the ledger; Trent was in control of Logan’s finances until he got out.