Tortured Teardrops

by P. D. Workman

  One of the guards approached Mrs. Baker to sit her down and she got right in his face, screaming and threatening. Tamara wanted to curl up into a ball for protection and just dissolve away. She couldn’t face her foster mother. When they got home, Mrs. Baker was going to hurt her bad.

  Eventually, Mrs. Baker sat back down and the lawyers were each instructed to sit down, even though the prosecutor was supposed to be on his feet when conducting the questioning. The murmur in the courtroom fell off into silence as the judge looked around at them all, waiting, his expression thunderous.

  “We are going to try this one last time,” he warned. “If Ms. French cannot give testimony today and be properly cross-examined, then her testimony is out. As is her prior statement to the police. The recording stands as both parties on the tape are here to be questioned on its interpretation.” He leveled a glare at Mrs. Baker. “If you do not testify here today, whatever deal you have made to avoid prosecution for your complicity in these charges will be null and void. Keep that in mind.”

  Mrs. Baker didn’t look at him, but at Tamara, a laser-beam stare. Tamara buried her face in her arm again. There was silence again in the courtroom, but the voices in Tamara’s head were still shouting, cursing and swearing at her and beating her down.

  “Have another drink of water, Ms. French, and pull yourself together,” the judge instructed. “You have made allegations that need to be supported today with live testimony. We are waiting for you to tell your side of the story.”

  Tamara tried to get more water down, but it was impossible. She looked at Ritter, trying to draw strength from him. But then her eyes focused again on Mr. Baker.

  He smirked at her. He knew she couldn’t do it. He still had power over her, no matter how strong she thought she had become. He folded his arms across his chest and gave a little lift with his chin. Bring it.

  It should have made her angry enough to say all the words that were stuck in her throat, but it didn’t. She saw his attitude and she heard his mocking voice.

  You’re just a little girl.

  Who’s going to believe you?

  If you don’t do what I say, you’re going to be out on the street. You think you won’t have to put out then?

  You can’t do anything.

  Tamara stood up, too nauseated to stay there any longer. Blau moved to again put her back in her seat, but Tamara moved quickly to avoid him.

  “No! Didn’t you hear what he said?” she demanded. “I’m not doing it.”

  “He didn’t say anything. Now sit down and—”

  When he grabbed for her, Tamara swung. She’d been in juvie for over three years. She might not be the biggest or the strongest, but she had learned to fight. She went straight for his nose, and then to scratch his eyes. When his hands were up and his eyes were closed, she drove a shoulder into his midriff and bowled him over to the floor. If she’d been smart about it, she could have grabbed his sidearm and threatened her way out of the courthouse before any tactical team could get there to talk her down, but she didn’t. She left him on the floor and made a dash for the anteroom door. The extra guards who had been called to deal with the outbursts in the courtroom tripped over each other, all with different ideas about what to do about her bolting. Tamara reached the door and found, to her relief, that it was not locked.

  She darted into the sweltering room and went straight for the cell she had been sitting in earlier. A couple of the guards were right behind her. Tamara pulled on the cell door, slamming it shut with a bang. It tried to bounce back open, but she pulled it firmly toward her. It clicked into place as the guards reached her.

  “No! Leave me alone! Just leave me alone, I’m done!”

  They stood there, looking stupidly through the bars at her. Blau strode into the room and went straight up to the cell. Tamara shrank back from him, but kept her hands wrapped around the bars of the cell door, determined to prevent him from opening it and dragging her out again.

  The guard put his key into the lock, furious.

  “May as well just leave her there,” one of the others said. “She might not go back in so easily next time.” He snickered. “And she throws a mean right.”

  Blau turned part way around. “What did you say?”

  “She’s not testifying, so she’s right where we want her to be. There’s no point in taking her out just to put her back again, especially if she gets ideas.”

  Tamara’s breath rasped loudly in her chest. She didn’t know whether he was going to listen to the other guards or take her out and give her a beating for messing with him. She’d hit him in front of his coworkers, in front of the judge. In front of everyone else in the courtroom. His reputation would be forever marred, remembered as the man who let himself be beaten by a girl.

  Blau stared at her balefully through the bars. “You are crazy, you know that?” he demanded. “I’ve never seen such a display in a courtroom. I have no idea why they ever thought you could come in here and be a witness. You couldn’t have made a much bigger mess of it than you did.”

  Tamara swallowed. Everything he said was true. She couldn’t argue with it.

  “You don’t know what it’s like,” she told him in a whisper. “You don’t know what kind of monsters they are.”

  “Then I would think you would want to convict him, instead of whatever balls-up that was. They shouldn’t have even sent you.”

  Tamara pried her fingers loose from the bars and retreated to sit on the bench. He didn’t unlock the door.

  “You’d better hope that his wife doesn’t change her mind about testifying against him. Or accidentally say something to throw the case and get him off. You’d better hope that she puts him away, or he’s going to be back out there again and you’ll know it’s your fault.”

  Tamara put her face in her hands, covering her eyes. She just wanted to sleep and pretend that nothing had happened. Pretend that the day hadn’t even come. The little group of guards eventually decided that she wasn’t a danger and wasn’t going to do anything else interesting, and eventually disbanded. Lynch remained at the desk with the fan blowing on himself, shuffling papers and tapping at his phone.

  18

  AT THE END of the day, it was Zobel who was there to pick her up again and take her home. Tamara didn’t stir when he entered the airless room. He took off his cap and wiped his forehead.

  “Little warm in here!”

  Blau had replaced Lynch at the desk. He turned his head to look sourly at Zobel.

  “Your girl screwed up royally today.”

  “Uh-oh.” Zobel looked over at Tamara. “Is she all right?”

  “Other than being a complete psycho? Yes, she’s fine.”

  Zobel couldn’t fail to miss the anger and sarcasm in Blau’s voice. Tamara breathed, trying to keep her consciousness suspended somewhere in the center of the room, where she didn’t have to think of the past or the future or who was angry with her or not. She could just keep floating there and not think about the consequences.

  “What happened?” Zobel asked cautiously.

  “She freaked out. Wouldn’t testify against him after all. Wouldn’t stay to answer questions and give her testimony.” He pointed to his swollen nose and scratched face. “Gave me this.”

  Zobel cleared his throat and threw a look in Tamara’s direction. In a voice that was much flatter than his usual timbre, he said, “I did warn you that she was violent.”

  That didn’t go over well with Blau. But Zobel was right, he had been warned.

  “I’ll just be happy to have her off of my hands.” Blau pushed himself up from his chair with a grunt and went over to Tamara’s cage. This time when he inserted his key in the lock, Tamara didn’t try to stop him. She watched him through barely-cracked lids. “Your babysitter is here for you,” Blau sneered. “Come on out.” He swung the door open.

  “Uh, we’ve got protocols for transfer,” Zobel said. “She stays in the cell until she’s shackled and chained.” He picked up the
hardware he’d previously left in the guard room and entered the cell. Blau started to turn to go back to his desk work and Zobel turned his head to look at him. “Stand watch,” he said. “This is a two-person job.”

  “You look more than capable of doing it yourself.”

  “I can chain her, but I need a second person ready in case something was to go wrong. Most custody breaches happen during transfer.”

  Blau made a huffing noise and stood where he was to supervise.

  “Let’s go, French,” Zobel said.

  Tamara didn’t move. Zobel waited for a few seconds and then approached her. “French. On your feet, please.”

  When she still didn’t stir, he put a hand on her arm, nudging her into action. “Come on. Time to get out of here.”

  Tamara didn’t have the energy to get to her feet. She wasn’t sure what Zobel was going to do about it, but she knew that she just wasn’t going to be able to do anything by herself.

  Zobel’s hand moved to Tamara’s face, touching the back of his fingers to her hot, dry skin. He swore. “How long has she been sitting in here like this?”

  Blau looked at Tamara. “Since she left the courtroom. Sat down there and hasn’t been a bother. Good thing, after all of the trouble she caused in there.”

  Zobel felt Tamara’s pulse. “We might need an ambulance.” He shook his head, swearing. “Ambulance transfer is not secure.”

  Blau was starting to get an inkling that there was a problem. “Ambulance? Ambulance for what?”

  “She’s hot and dry with a fast, weak pulse. What does that tell you?”

  “Of course she’s hot. It’s like an oven in here. Maybe she’s faking sick… like you said, breaches of custody happen during transfers, she wants to escape…”

  “She should be sweating. You’re sweating, aren’t you?” Zobel wiped his own dripping temples.

  “Yes.”

  “Has she had anything to eat or drink?”

  “No. She had water in the courtroom.”

  “Get me a water bottle. We’ll see if she can take any fluids.”

  Blau hesitated. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to leave you alone with her.”

  “Shut the gate.”

  Blau did, pushing the cell door shut until it clicked into place. As an afterthought, he gave it a shake to make sure it was properly engaged. Then he walked away to get a water bottle.

  Zobel patted Tamara’s cheeks. “Tamara. Can you hear me?”

  Tamara wished he would just leave her alone. She turned her head slightly, trying to avoid the slaps on her cheeks.

  “I need you to stay with me. Talk to me. Tell me if you’re okay.”

  “Mmm,” Tamara groaned. She couldn’t form words. She didn’t want to leave the comfortable space her consciousness was suspended in and be forced to move her body, which was heavy and weak and sore.

  “That’s right,” Zobel murmured. “Stay with me. Remember when I got cut? Remember how you held on to me? Didn’t let me bleed out? Well, I’m going to do the same for you.”

  Tamara had never thought she would regret saving Zobel’s life.

  Blau returned with a water bottle. He handed it through the bars to Zobel. Zobel cracked the cap and held the bottle to Tamara’s mouth. Most of the first splash went down her front, but some of it got into her mouth and made Tamara choke, spitting it back out again. She turned her head away from him, coughing weakly and wishing he would just leave her alone. Zobel put his hand under her chin to hold her steady, and again tipped the bottle into her mouth. The water was surprisingly good and Tamara took a couple of weak swallows to slake her dry throat.

  “Good girl.” Zobel gave Tamara a break to breathe, then tipped the bottle up again.

  After a few minutes, Tamara lifted her hand to steady the bottle. She opened her eyes and looked at Zobel.

  “Hey,” he greeted. “Are you okay?”

  Tamara made a noise that wasn’t actually speech, but was an acknowledgment.

  “Hear you had a fun day in court.”

  Tamara couldn’t manage a laugh or a protest.

  “More.” Zobel held the bottle up to her mouth. “We’ve got to get as much into you as possible.”

  Tamara took a few swallows, then pulled away. Her stomach was hurting, sloshing with the water. She couldn’t handle any more.

  Zobel’s fingers found her pulse again. He gazed into her face. “You think you can make it to the bus?” he asked. “And back home?”

  All Tamara wanted was to be back in her own bunk again, but she couldn’t summon the massive energy that would be required to get back to the juvie transport bus and then from the bus to her cell. She closed her eyes.

  “French. Come on. Don’t pass out on me. Can you stand up? We’ll get you back into your gear?”

  “No.”

  “We’ve progressed to words! Maybe with a little more water, you’ll be able to get back on your feet.”

  “Mmm-mmn”

  Tamara’s eyes were open just the barest slit. She saw Zobel look at his watch. He shook his head in frustration and pulled out his phone. Tamara drifted again while he made phone calls to make arrangements to send the other juvies back home and get Tamara medical attention. He shook or nudged her a couple of times to keep her conscious, but Tamara made no effort to stay awake. It was just too hard.

  19

  EVENTUALLY, THEY HAD no choice but to get an ambulance for Tamara. There was just no way she was getting back to the transport bus under her own steam. When the paramedics arrived, they looked curiously into the cell at Tamara and Zobel.

  “What seems to be the problem?” asked the woman paramedic, short and sturdy with her black hair in a bun.

  “I’m guessing heat stroke,” Zobel offered.

  He had ordered that the hallway and courtroom doors be opened to provide some airflow into the room and commandeered the fan, which he had pointed directly at Tamara. But even with these measures, the room was still uncomfortably hot.

  “We’re going to need to get in to examine and treat her.”

  “I need to ensure she is secure at all times.”

  “So what do you want to do?”

  Zobel looked around uncertainly, though he had surely been considering the problem the whole time he was waiting for them.

  “At the very least, I’ll need to put her in handcuffs and leg shackles. We’d better shut both doors again. I’ll put her on the gurney… you can strap her in… and then you can examine her.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” the woman laughed. “How about I just come in there and check her out?”

  “I can’t leave you alone in here with her and there’s not room for all three of us.”

  “What is she, Harry Houdini? Jack the Ripper? Maybe both rolled into one? It doesn’t look to me like she’s going anywhere.”

  Tamara would have seconded that opinion, but it would have taken more energy than she had. She wanted to tell Zobel that there was no need to go to such lengths to make sure she didn’t escape. But she couldn’t. Even if she did, he’d still have to follow the best security protocols he could. Too many times, convicts escaped because of stupid mistakes and wrong assumptions. Zobel had to assume that she was perfectly capable of escape and act accordingly.

  “Let’s shut and lock both doors,” Zobel said to Blau.

  “How long is this going to take? I’m supposed to be off now.”

  “You’ll need to stay until she’s out of here.”

  Blau grumbled as he went to each of the doors and shut and locked them with a key. “No one can get out of here now except for me.”

  “Or someone who gets your keys. I’m going to shackle her now.”

  Zobel did so without any resistance or protest from Tamara. Zobel checked each cuff and chain. Blau unlocked and opened the cell. Zobel scooped Tamara up in his arms and took her the few steps to the waiting gurney. Tamara opened her eyes briefly to take in the new perspective. With Zobel watching, the paramedics st
rapped Tamara in. Zobel checked each strap and pulled on Tamara’s limbs to see whether she could move and slip out of the restraints. He frowned.

  “I guess that will do.”

  He removed the shackles then stepped back and watched like a hawk while the paramedics gave Tamara a cursory examination.

  “You’re probably right,” the male medic, who had remained quiet up until then, confirmed. “Classic symptoms. Any nausea or vomiting?”

  Zobel looked at Blau, who nodded. “She was complaining in the courtroom that she was sick. Came back in here and refused to testify. Some dry heaves, but I figured she was just putting it on.”

  The paramedic looked at Blau. “How long has she been sick?”

  “That was a few hours ago.”

  “Someone should have called us a lot earlier.”

  Tamara wanted them to stop poking and prodding and talking about her. She moved restlessly, trying to get comfortable with the way her arms and legs were being restrained. Zobel rested a hand on her shoulder. She tried to stay still.

  “I gave her some water. What else do we need to do?”

  “She needs more fluids, but we probably can’t get enough in her orally. We’re going to need to get her on IV. Hopefully, there hasn’t been any organ damage and she’ll be released tomorrow.”

  Tamara didn’t remember much between the arrival of the paramedics and waking up the next morning with a killer headache. She was in a hospital bed with wrist and ankle restraints, as well as a set of handcuffs from her wrist to the rail on the side of the bed.

  She closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but her body didn’t cooperate. She lay there and stared up at the IV bag hanging above her. She no longer felt so tired and parched, so it must have done its job.

  Once back in juvie, Tamara was transferred to Psych for observation, which she didn’t think was really fair when she had been hospitalized for dehydration. But word of her meltdown on the witness stand had gotten back to the administration and Dr. Sutherland recommended that she be watched, just in case she was having a nervous breakdown or was a danger to herself.