Young Women Reform: Novella 1

by Candace Mia

  Young Women Reform

  Novella 1

  By Candace Mia

  Copyright 2014 Candace Mia

  Smashwords Edition

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  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years old or older.

  Novella 1

  “I’ve been told you’ve become quite handy while in prison, Mr. Wakefield.”

  The woman across the table from Brody was pretty. He estimated that she was a little older than him, and he was 42. She had rich dark eyes and long dark hair. She was a little big for a woman, but not fat. She just looked like she could hold her own. He couldn’t believe they were letting him sit alone in a room with her. He’d not been alone with a woman for twenty years.

  “Yes,” he said. “There’s not a lot to do in a maximum security prison. I’ve taught myself a lot of things.”

  “I’ve heard,” she said. Her voice was powerful, condescending really. “I’ve also heard you’ve tutored a number of your fellow inmates and helped them get their GEDs.”

  “Yes. And I’ve helped some get more than that. Some even have college degrees.”

  “Yes. So I’ve heard. But it’s not your ability to teach smart people that I care about. It’s your ability to teach the dumber ones.”

  He shook his head, slowly. “What does all of this have to do with anything? I’m in prison for the rest of my life. There’s no chance of parole.”

  “No there’s not. You killed your wife and her lover.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I did.”

  The confident woman smirked. “I wasn’t asking. I was recapping. All questions about what you did were answered a long time ago.”

  Brody looked down. He’d grown to accept what he’d done. But it still brought him shame.

  “As you said, Brody. There’s no chance of parole. You will be a prisoner the rest of your life. But I’ve handpicked you to be in a different sort of prison, my prison.”

  Brody stared at her. Was she for real?

  “I could use a hand man at my little prison, and I could use a man who can teach difficult concepts to dumb people.”

  He wondered about her prison. He supposed it couldn’t be worse than this place.

  “You will have an electronic tether, of course. It will be put right under your skin. Our state is the only state that allows such a thing. Should you try to escape, a jolt of electricity will shoot through you that will only knock you out, if you’re lucky.”

  She was smiling at him, like she took great pleasure in what she could do. She leaned over the table, though, closer to him. “But there will be no walls. You’ll have your own room. You’ll have a television and good food. You’ll even be able to go outside and play. And I understand that you were an aspiring writer years ago. I’ve been told you still write, that you’ve filled up notebooks.”

  Brody thought he felt is own eyes widen. Could it really be possible that there could be more to it than that, filling up notebooks?

  As if she’d read him, she smiled and said, “You’ll have access to a computer to type those stories out. You’ll have access to the Internet, so you can send those stories to publishers or put them out yourself. I’ll even let you keep the money you make and let you buy things you want.”

  This was all too good to be true. He even entertained the idea that it was all a dream. “But what do I have to do?”

  She grinned. “Anything I say.”

  He was a little afraid. But it was very little. Not much could be worse living and dying in this place. It still seemed too good to be true.

  #

  He was taken to the new prison in a windowless Van. He was shackled to his seat. He was glad he could lift his hand to his neck. It really itched where they’d put the tracker. He had no clock to watch the time, but he felt like it took hours to get there. He wondered if he was still in the same state. Maybe they’d just circled around for a while to confuse him. There was no way of knowing.

  By the time they opened the doors he was very thirsty, very hungry and needed to go to the bathroom. The light from outside seemed bright and stung his eyes. There was a buzzing sound, and the shackles came undone.

  “Get out,” a deep voice said.

  It was a hard thing to do. It was hard to see with the light burning his eyes. But when you’d been in prison as long as Brody, you learned that what you were able to do was what they told you to do. He didn’t rush, though. He got a hold of his duffle bag. It was full of nothing more than all the notebooks he’d written in over the years. He let his feet lead him outside more than his eyes. When he put a foot forward and it didn’t touch the van’s floor, he hopped out.

  His eyes were still trying to adjust but he was so curious he had to look around. He could see well enough to know what was right ahead of him and to his right. There were trees, and a lot of them at that. The smell was kind of swampy. To his left were two women. One was the woman he’d met in prison, Ms. Pennington. She looked even bigger now that she wasn’t sitting down. She wore jeans and an expensive looking blouse. His vision was also good enough that he could see the pistol strapped to her side.

  Brody was about five-ten. She was a good four inches taller than him. She still didn’t look fat, but it was very clear she had meat on her bones. Beside her was another woman. No, it was a girl. His eyes had adjusted enough to see she was a Mexican girl. She was probably an inch under five feet tall. She was small, with a head too big for her body. She wasn’t ugly. It just looked like her head was kind of big for her. Her face was cute, like an even littler kid. She was wearing a blue dress that looked like the same material the people who worked in the prison infirmary wore. It went down to the middle of her thighs. She was holding a clipboard. Behind them was a big white house. This was like no prison he’d ever heard of. It just looked like a big house or maybe an apartment building.

  The van drove off and headed down a dirt road into the woods. When it was gone, Ms. Pennington spoke.

  “This is what you need to know right off the bat, Brody. If you enter the woods and walk out a quarter of a mile you’ll find a fence. If you should cross that line, the devise inside you will shock you hard enough to at least knock you out. It might also stop your heart. The device also allows me to track you at all times. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Brody replied.

  “Good. Now there’s a big rock near your feet. I want you to pick it up.”

  Brody looked down to see a stone nearly as big as his hand. It was the only one there. He put his bag down and picked the rock up.

  “Now, Brody. Throw that rock as hard as you can toward the road over there.”

  He wasn’t sure why she would ask him to do this. Maybe she wanted to test his strength. He was very hungry and tired, but he’d built up a lot of muscle working out in the yard. He wasn’t going to be asking any questions right. He reared back and launched the rock toward the road.

  A loud crack gave him a jolt. T
he rock exploded in mid-air.

  He looked gingerly toward Ms. Pennington, who’d already holstered the pistol.

  “Understand?” she said.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Now, I would like for you to get cleaned up and ready for dinner. Penny will show you your quarters.” She looked at the girl.

  The girl nodded. Then she moved toward the house. Brody followed her. She led him inside the big house. They entered a foyer.

  “Take off your shoes,” Penny said.

  Her accent was only slightly Hispanic. Her voice was rather squeaky, which really matched her small size.

  She took off her own shoes. She had a smile that looked rather embarrassed to him. He thought he sensed trouble already. He’d have to avoid contact with this girl.

  He removed his shoes.

  It was a long foyer. It was more of a hallway really. She led him to one of the doors in that hallway and opened it.

  Inside was a room with bare white walls. There was a bed at least three times the size of the one he’d had in prison.

  Penny moved to the center of the room, where she motioned around. “This is your room. This is your bed.”

  He’d already seen the bed and the room. He was looking at her, at her expression. He was stunned that he’d be allowed to be alone with this girl. He wouldn’t do anything with her, but Ms. Pennington couldn’t know that. She’d have to know that most prisoners would. Hell, a large proportion of the prisoners he knew would settle for a boy the age of Penny. In maximum security, there were no conjugal visits.

  Penny moved to another door, which she opened. “This is your bathroom.”

  He couldn’t believe it. Having this nice room was amazing to him. But was he really going to have his own bathroom. He was thrilled to see it. Besides being excited about having a personal place to do his business, he figured there would be a faucet in there, and he was very thirsty. He walked that way.

  Penny just stood there, right between him and the bathroom.

  He didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t going to ask her to move. He was afraid to ask anybody for anything at this point.

  “Don’t you want to see your bathroom?”

  He hesitated and then said, “Yes, ma’am.”

  She giggled. “You don’t have to call me ma’am. I’m only eighteen.”

  He squinted, like he’d be able to see it. He supposed she was eighteen. She was just small and would probably look younger than that for many years to come. At least, she would to him. It had been a long time since he’d seen women on a regular basis and would be able to judge such things.

  “Okay,” he said.

  “Oh,” she said. “Would you like for me to move?”

  He hesitated again. “Yes, please.”

  She giggled again. “No. I think I’ll stay.”

  He still didn’t know what to do. This place was already a thousand times better than the place he’d come from. It didn’t really matter if she was of legal age. He didn’t have a legal life. What was legal here was what Ms. Pennington said was legal. And he doubted she’d brought him here to make physical contact with the women.

  She giggled again.

  Then there was a stern female voice. “Penny!”

  His head shot to the doorway to the room. There stood Ms. Pennington. “Is this anyway to treat the man who will be your teacher?”

  “No, Ma’am,” Penny said in a voice that shook. He looked at her. Her head was down.

  “Is this what you were instructed to do?”

  “No ma’am.”

  He looked back at Ms. Pennington. She had that look on her face, a look of confident superiority. “Leave Mr. Wakefield alone, so that he can become accustomed to his new living quarters alone, seeing that you can’t seem to show him appropriately.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Penny said and started to leave the room.

  “Go ahead and go into my office,” Ms. Pennington said. “We’ll have a talk about manners.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the little woman said, sobbing, then left them there.

  Ms. Pennington looked at him. “I know this will be a difficult adjustment for you, Brody. I will have a certain amount of patients with that. But one thing you’ll have to learn is to be stern with these young women and not let them run over you. Do you understand?”

  He did not. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Good. Dinner will be ready in half an hour. I will send someone for you.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Good,” she said, smiling. Then she left him there.

  #

  He drank water from the bathroom tap. He was so thirsty that it was wonderful. There was a combination shower tub. It was stocked with plenty of shampoos and soap. It had been so long since he’d had a bath. The prison didn’t have a bath. And you only got a few minutes to take a shower. Was it okay to indulge in this?

  Before he’d gone to prison he’d had baths. It hadn’t been a big deal then. He did it. The prison soaps had smelled sterile, but not good. Every bottle he opened smelled good. He wanted to stay in the warm water of that tub for hours. But he settled for fifteen minutes. He found towels in the bathroom closet. They were big a fluffy, not scratchy. He went into his bedroom and looked in the dresser there. There were new looking jeans and a variety of shirts. He got dressed to find the clothes fit well. It was as if whoever got them knew his sizes. He sat on the bed and waited. There was a tv on the wall. It was a flat screen. He’d known they existed, but he’d not seen one before. There was also a PC. He’d had very limited access to computers in prison and no internet. He wondered if he could use that one to get online. He wouldn’t do it now, though. He wouldn’t watch tv either. Instead, he just waited.

  The nock soon came to the door.

  “Come in,” he said.

  The door opened. It was Penny. Her eyes were damp with tears. She spoke quietly. “Dinner is ready.”

  He followed her. It felt awkward. He had to wonder what had happened to the poor girl. He felt like he’d gotten her in trouble. He should have handled the earlier situation himself, before Ms. Pennington got here.

  Still, he didn’t feel too bad. His main objective had to be self-preservation. He had to make sure he wasn’t kicked out of this place.

  She led him through a big commons area. There were staircases to each side. There were several rooms on the downstairs and upstairs. They went toward the back of the house into a dining room. Ms. Pennington sat at the end of the table. To her side was another girl. She was a white girl, but with tinted skin. She had pretty brown hair and a pretty face, but she also had that look like she might be mischievous. Even sitting in the chair she looked like she was a combination of two bodies. She was thin on top, but she seemed to fill out the chair a lot. She was wearing a dress of the same material as Penny’s.

  She was smiling at him like she had wicked intentions. He was beginning to think these girls hadn’t seen a man in a while.

  Penny took a seat. There was one spot with a plate left. It was between Penny and Ms. Pennington. That’s where he sat.

  “Mr. Wakefield. This is Resling.”

  “Hi,” the girl said. Her voice was soft and high.

  “Hello,” Brody said. “It’s nice to meet you miss.”

  At that, she giggled. Even Penny giggled.

  “These girls are not used to being addressed properly, Brody,” Ms. Pennington said casually. “But I’m sure you’re not as worried about that as you are hungry. Please help yourself.” She motioned at the table. “We are not used to preparing for a man’s appetite, so I had Resling prepare a lot.”

  There was fried chicken. There was mashed potatoes and gravy. There was corn, and there were biscuits. The aroma made his mouth water.

  He helped himself to some of everything, passing each tray after taking food from it.

  Ms. Pennington must have not been a strongly religious woman, because everyone was allowed to get started before any prayer was offered.

&nb
sp; Prison food was atrocious. This food was so good he felt like he lost track of where he was. He took just a little at first, but as he ate, Ms. Pennington was pushing more food onto his plate. He found it hard to top. There was real butter to put on those roles. He’d not had real butter for over twenty years. He was way past full when Ms. Pennington interrupted his pleasure.

  “You have come to us during a quiet time. It is the quiet after the storm so to speak.” She looked sternly at the two girls sitting at the table. They were looking down as if ashamed. “There is a juvenile facility for girls not far from here. Many are not ready to reenter society when they turn eighteen. Some will not be allowed to reenter society because of the harshness of their crimes. I developed this institution for both types. It has been up and running for two years now. A few girls were able to earn their GEDs and also learn social skills so that they were able to leave. A few girls could not obey the rules and found themselves in adult prisons. A large group of girl recently conspired together and tried to escape. They were all caught. The only two girls who did not try to escape are sitting with you now. But I’m not convinced that they didn’t at least consider it. And they did not inform me of other girls’ plans.”

  She glared at the two girls again, who were still looking down.

  “I was teaching these two when the rest tried to escape. I was not having a lot of success teaching most of the others, so I thought it might be better to hire someone more skilled in the art of teaching simpletons. And I can devout my time to other things, like teaching them social skills and security.”

  He didn’t know what he was supposed to say to all of this. He just nodded.

  “Good,” she said. “I will get you caught up on their lesson plans tomorrow. It shouldn’t take that long. They haven’t gotten far.”

  She looked hard at them. It was almost like she was daring them to contradict her.

  “Girls. Clean up. Mr. Wakefield, you may retire to your room.”

  #

  Brody was glad to be in his room. He was digesting the huge meal. His stomach hurt, but he thought he’d do it the same if he had it to do all over again. He’d loved every bite. He turned on the television and was surprised to find many channels. He settled on a news channel but it was in the background. He was exploring the PC. There was a word processor program where he could type. He was so excited he got into his bag immediately. He’d written several novels over the years, and many stories too. He located a notebook of several stories. He started typing.