by BT Urruela
“Did you have a hard time getting in?”
“It was okay,” I lie.
“Thanks for coming to see me.”
“It was hard.” My eyes have yet to meet his directly.
“I can only imagine.”
“I want to know what happened that night,” I blurt out.
His mouth gapes for a moment before he collects himself. He clears his throat.
“I heard her scream.” He pauses and waits for my eyes to meet his.
I nod and avert my eyes.
“A loud crash and a scream. I went in the back door, and I… I saw her.” He stops again and puts his head in his hands.
I fight back the tears. “I read all the police reports. Read the whole damn thing. I already know the details. I already lived that nightmare. I still do. I want to hear it from you.”
He lifts his head and looks at me again. His face is etched with terrible sorrow. “She was on the floor. She wasn’t moving.”
“What did she look like?” I can barely breathe. My throat constricts and tears well in my eyes. And through the tears, I see he has a few more of his own. He puts his head back in his hands and wipes his eyes. He’s leaned in against the metal counter as far as he can go.
“She looked really fucking bad. I checked her pulse and… and it was really slow. I moved the knife. I don’t know why I did. It didn’t even feel like I was there. It felt like a dream… or a nightmare. Like an out-of-body experience. I threw it in the sink, grabbed the phone and dialed the cops. Then I searched the house. There was nothing. Shit was fucked up in the house. Drawers everywhere. Clothes everywhere. But nobody was there.”
All my tears have dried. I’m here for a reason. I compose myself the best I can.
“How did my parents’ shit get in the guesthouse, Xander?”
“Paige, I don’t know! I hadn’t touched my luggage since I moved in.” He shakes his head. “I have no clue.”
“And why would you confess?”
“I told you, they wanted to throw me to the fucking wolves. They promised me—my own fucking attorney promised me—the death penalty would be a guarantee. The evidence was stacked against me. I was high that night when it happened. Really fucking high. I… I don’t know. They had the case locked down, and I had a shit lawyer. They all had it out for me.”
The officer returns and nudges Xander. “Time’s up, Evans.”
“Paige,” Xander says, rising to his feet. “Just do me a favor. Check Cody’s friends. Just check them out for me. I have no one else, Paige. Please.” He stands but keeps the phone to his ear. “I swear to you. I’m innocent…”
“Let’s go, Evans,” the officer interrupts sternly.
“I didn’t do it. I would never want to hurt you. I would never hurt your family. Just please, Paige.”
His eyes are desperate as he hangs up the phone and backs away. Then he’s gone.
“Alright man, what the hell’s up?” Twitch calls from the bottom bunk. “You’ve been depressed since you got back.”
I’m stretched out and facing the wall, trying my best to fight the anxiety that’s taken over. Seeing her again was both the best and worst thing I’ve ever felt.
“I know you ain’t sleeping. Spit it out. You know I can’t stand the quiet.”
“C’mon, man.” I say, hoping he’ll just leave me alone.
“C’mon, man, what? Spill it.”
“It’s a long story.”
“And I’ve never shared some long-ass stories with you?” He asks with a sarcastic tone.
He’s got me there.
“The girl that visited… that wrote me those letters. I’m in here for her mother’s murder.”
“Holy fuck.” He comes off of his bunk and leans in on mine, his eyes wide.
“Yeah, but I didn’t do it. I was set up.”
He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Okay, so were you really set up, or were you set up like everyone else in here was?”
“I didn’t do it,” I say, annoyed and giving him the look that says “don’t fucking go there”.
He puts a hand up. “Okay, okay, so what did she have to say?”
“Just wanted to talk about that night. She didn’t believe me… probably still doesn’t. I tried my best though.”
I sit up from the bed and lean my back against the wall. I look at him curiously as he’s got a mischievous smile on his face.
“Wanna break out with me?”
I look at him, trying to read his face, and I can’t tell if he’s serious or not. “You kidding me, man?”
“I think you know me better than that,” He says. “I ain’t serving ten years, friend. I’m out of here as soon as I find the opportunity. And this time, I’m not getting scooped back up.”
For a moment, I actually consider it. I have a life sentence. What the fuck do I have to lose? But what if Paige could help? What if she could clear my name?
“Nah, man. I can’t risk it.”
“You got life in prison. What do you mean you can’t risk it? What are you risking?”
“The hole, man. I don’t do so well in the hole. And then, what the fuck am I going to do on the outside? I’ll be a fugitive. Always having to watch my back. Fuck that.”
His smile is beaming now, almost giddy, and he rubs his hand together as if formulating a devious plan. “There’s ways around that, my man. Many ways around it.”
“I’m not trying to talk about fantasy worlds, Twitch. That’s not my shit. I can’t live like that.” I scratch the scruff on my chin, my mind only really on Paige and I ask the only thing I can think of that’ll change the subject. “Hey Twitch, you ever been in love, man?”
He scoffs as he sits down on the stool and scans the musty yellow walls. “You’re talking about fantasy worlds. Love is a fucking fantasy, my friend. It’s God’s never ending practical joke.” He chuckles, a miserable little chuckle as he looks longingly out the barred up windows. “I was in love once. She’s the mother of my kids.”
“Shit man, how did I not know you have kids? How many?”
“You never asked, fucker.” He puts three fingers up. “I have three boys—Able, Cayden, and Jude.”
“Three fucking kids, man? Three boys at that? Damn your swimmers must be strong.”
He laughs and leans forward, elbows to his knees.
“Their mom’s a cheating, lying bitch who hasn’t let me see my kids in years. And now that I’m a felon, I’ve put the final nail in the coffin my own damn self. Love is a façade, Xander. We love who we can’t have, and when we do find love, we don’t want it anymore. It’s the twisted life we live.”
“Fuck, man. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry for me. I did this to myself. I got fucked up and cheated on her. I caused her to lose it. She was never the same after. Love? Don’t ask me about love.” He laughs, but there’s a lot of pain behind it.
Out of nowhere, Twitch perks up and nonchalantly nods toward the door. Three lifers—we call this particular trio the beast queens, or BQs, on account of their bodybuilder stature and penchant for rape—are standing outside our door. The leader—Joker, I think they call him—takes two steps in and crosses his arms. He’s covered in prison ink, as bald as Mr. Clean, and he’s got meth mouth like a motherfucker. He ignores Twitch, who looks like he’s about ready to pounce, and he focuses solely on me, jabbing a finger in my direction.
“You the little prick talking to the warden about me?”
“I haven’t said shit. Nor will I. The guy got what was coming to him.”
“That’s not what I’ve been hearing.”
“I’m sorry, then you’ve been hearing wrong.” He tenses up, but I remain calm. He wants a reaction—that’s why he’s here. But I’m not going to give him one.
“Oh, you think so? Hey Chester, this guy right here’s calling you a liar. How does that make you feel?”
The equally large and slightly ginger Chester steps in, shaking his head. With his long hair and gym
teacher goatee, he looks like he belongs in the WWE… or on To Catch a Predator.
“Nah, I don’t like that one bit, Joker.”
“And look at you.” Joker says, grabbing a handful of crotch and liking his lips. “Such a sweet little bitch you’d make. That pretty head of hair you got, it’d be good for holding onto while I’m fucking your face.”
“I can promise you”—I look him dead in the eye—”none of that is going down. Not in this lifetime. And not in the next.”
“Oh, we can arrange that. We can take care of you just like we did your last fat fuck cellmate. We made that boy squeal for us, didn’t we, Chester?” He laughs, slapping the back of his hand against Chester’s chest, who grunts in response.
“Listen, I haven’t said shit and I’m not going to say shit. You’ve been misinformed. That’s all I’m saying.”
“We’ll see now, won’t we?” He pretends to suck a dick, stroking a hand toward his mouth before departing. Chester follows close behind after blowing a kiss my way.
“Well, that was fucking interesting.” Twitch says with a smile. “Friends of yours?”
“I guess we are now. Before today, they didn’t know who the fuck I was. Look’s like it’s my lucky day.”
It’s been three weeks since I last saw Paige, and a week since we spoke on the phone and she told me she’d come. I’ve tried not letting it get to me, but the wait has been excruciating. A day in here is like ten on the outside. I can’t imagine how those like Twitch with kids back home deal, though I don’t think he even knows where home is anymore.
As I approach the booth, I spot Paige’s curly hair, which is pulled up into a ponytail. It’s by far my favorite look on her. She smiles when I approach, and although it’s a weak smile, it’s still a nice change from the last time I saw her.
“Hi, Xander,” she says as I lift the receiver to my ear.
“Hi, Paige. It’s so good to see you again.”
“You too. How have you been?” She looks at me with apologetic eyes. “I mean…”
“No, you’re okay. I haven’t been bad, all things considered. Life just is what it is in here. You learn to appreciate the small things. I’ve got a good cellmate finally. Army Special Forces, wounded, all that… you know how well I mesh with that type.”
“Speaking of which, have you spoken to Chase recently?”
Even though I haven’t thought about him in months, memories of our times together bring a smile to my face. It’s my fault it’s been so long.
“It’s been at least a year and a half.”
“Damn. Really?” She asks.
“Yeah. I wasn’t too keen on talking to people on the outside for a long time. Envy, I guess. Or maybe I just didn’t want him to see me like this. Maybe a little of both.”
“Well, do you know he proposed to Brandi?”
“What?! I didn’t even know they were seeing each other!”
“Yeah, pretty much since they met. They live in Truman Valley. You should really reach out.”
“I know.” I shake my head, as I’m well aware I haven’t kept up my end of the bargain in that friendship.
“I hope they’re well.”
“They are. Brandi works with me at Whittaker’s still…and yes, I’m working at Whittaker’s now. I don’t want to hear it.” A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth and it excites me as it’s the first time she’s joked around with me. I miss that so much.
“Chase started an online carpentry business which is doing well and he’s still racing regularly. He’s a little upset that he has to go all the way to St Louis though. I don’t think the country living is quite for him.” She lets out the lightest laugh, but it’s enough to make me forget all about this place.
I want to continue the small talk, it’s what makes me feel normal again in a place like this, but the dwindling time is ever present in the back of my mind. I need to know if she found out anything. She is the only chance I have.
“Paige, sorry, I hate to change subjects, but we don’t have much time.” I immediately regret my words. I want to relish our chance at a normal conversation. But I just have to know. “Did you look into Cody’s people for me? Rusty and Benji?”
“Yeah, I asked around a little. They moved a town over… to Wainwright. Word is that they’re controlling pretty much everything drug related in the county. Pushing stuff out of St. Louis. Producing some too. And Xander…”
“Yeah?”
“I looked into Cody, too.” She lets her words linger and I fight to keep my face expressionless. I know what’s coming next, and I hope to God she’s mindful of what she says in here.
“Thinking he’d obviously have more motive than anyone… you know, with all that had happened around the same time. After everything with my mom, we never pressed charges against Cody. We just didn’t have it in us. But it turns out, they could never locate him anyways. They still haven’t. His truck was still there. Everything was still in his trailer. He just vanished.”
“He could’ve easily went into hiding after the attack. Maybe Russ and Benji are hiding him. I think we gotta focus on his friends.”
Paige looks inquisitively at me. “Is there something I should know?”
She tries to read my face and it feels like she sees right through me. I can’t tell if she knows or if she doesn’t, but this is not the time or place for it anyhow.
“Not at all. With everything that’s happened with you and Cody, with what he’s capable of, I don’t want you anywhere near him. And Paige…”
“Yeah?” she asks.
“Please be careful. You have no idea what your help means to me, but I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.”
“I honestly don’t know why I am helping. I still can’t wrap my brain around that.” She shakes her head.
“Do you still think I did it?” I’m afraid of what her answer will be, though I wouldn’t blame her. How could I?
“Do you still think it was me?” I ask, then regret asking immediately. But I desperately need to know the answer.
“I don’t know, Xander. This hate for you has been in my heart for a long time. It’s not something that can just go away. But the possibility of your innocence is there. And if there’s one thing that’s remained consistent, it’s that I’ve had a terrible time seeing you as a killer. I knew you. It was a short time, but what I felt for you…” Tears build in her eyes. “What I felt for you was real. I didn’t want to believe it was you for a long time. I fought it. My family is falling apart piece by piece, Xander. Don’t ask me what I think. I don’t know what I think. I don’t know anything anymore.”
I stand and put my hand to the glass as the CO calls that our time is up. I look at Paige and see the tears swallow up her beautiful doe eyes and it breaks my heart completely. In this moment, I want to pound this plastic until it breaks and take her into my arms. I’d never fucking let her go.
With every ounce of sincerity in me, I say, “Paige… I didn’t do it.”
I set the phone back on its cradle and walk the path back to my own personal hell on earth.
The days have been unbearably long—four of them since I last saw her.
If I didn’t have Twitch, I’d be a fucking mess.
Paige is all I can think about. The feeling of seeing her again only to be ripped away in ten minutes is so very bittersweet. It’s something though, and on sleepless nights, thoughts of seeing her again are what get me through.
The book in my hands does nothing to take my thoughts away from her. The hustle and bustle of normal midday prison activity doesn’t help much either. Without Twitch here to bullshit with, I find my mind running away from me. It makes it even worse that he got to go outside the gate for some denture work this morning. He still isn’t back yet. Chained and handcuffed or not, seeing something other than barbed wire and concrete would be incredible. I’d almost be willing to give an eye and some teeth. Almost.
I’m right at the part in Shutter Island
where US Marshall Teddy Daniels discovers that his wife drowned all four of their kids in a lake and it guts me in the way I love how books do. I set it on my lap, absorbing what I just read when I notice Joker and his crew lingering near my door, not looking in but back over their shoulders. My stomach squeezes into a tight ball. An icy chill travels throughout my veins. I know what’s coming, and it’s not going to be pretty.
Just past the BQs, four others in their posse start attacking each other, throwing wild, arching punches. COs swarm them in seconds, and that’s when Joker’s crew makes their move. I’m off the bed with a shank held tightly in my hand when Chester and Sanchez enter, hungry looks on their faces. Two more follow behind them and come immediately for me. I slash them across the face and arms, which moves them back, but the other two come at me immediately, grabbing at my arms. Sanchez buries a shank into my stomach, just above my hip. The pain is almost unbearable. It’s as if hot coals have been burrowed under my flesh. Blood pours from the wound and puddles on the floor. Chester then grabs my wrist, hard enough to make me drop my shank, and in one quick motion, throws me down onto the concrete floor, face first.
They kneel on either arm, and it feels as if my arms may snap like twigs at any moment. The concrete floor pushes the shank in deeper, taking the breath from my lungs completely. I start to fade in and out of consciousness.
I feel two more sets of hands cinch each leg. Chester grabs a fistful of my hair and slams my head into the concrete with full force. My ears start to ring.
Darkness.
I fight my eyes back open. A deep, mind-numbing throb ravages my entire head. My vision is blurry, and my taste buds detect only blood.
I feel Chester’s hand clutch my hair again. In my head, I beg him to stop, but words can’t be formed. Thoughts barely process. My head hurts so badly.
As he holds my head up, I see Joker through clouded vision laughing maniacally as he walks toward me, his hand pulling his dick out of his pants.
I feel my own pants being pulled down. I try to kick, but I can’t even tell if I’ve moved.
The darkness comes again as my face meets the concrete one final time.
