Teanna swallowed the criticism. “I need your help. That’s why I’m here. You the last shot I got.”
Kelly smiled with contempt. “It’s burning you up that he’ll see me anytime I want.”
“I got it. . .you’re angry. Sorry, I was wrong about you and Tay. Ain’t fix nothing, but it’s the truth. Believe me, I done run up a lot of mistakes in my time and paid the bill for every last one of ‘em myself. . .all but this one. I want to try, can’t do nothing else but that. And you right – I don’t know you, but I can’t get to know you unless you let me.”
Kelly moved Teanna’s hand and opened the driver’s side door. “What difference do you think it’ll make, if you’re with me? Then, he won’t want to see either of us.”
“I don’t know you, but I know my son. All he wanted me to do was accept you. And I ain’t do it because I didn’t think you was right for him.”
“Because I’m white? Jewish? Who cares? We’re good for each other.” Kelly blustered. “You’d know that, if you’d try to see it. Say he does see you. What good will it do?”
“Won’t bring his sister back,” she admitted. “I lost her, too. I ain’t always do the right thing, but try to see it through my eyes. What would you do?”
Kelly thought about telling her to back off, but she knew better. If Teiji told Kelly to stay away, she would continue trying until the day of his release. She slumped into the driver’s seat and shut the door. Teanna’s shoulders dropped with defeat until she heard the transport’s automatic door click open. Kelly was going to take her after all.
With the prison 20 miles outside of town and the rush hour traffic approaching, it would take up to 60 minutes to reach him. Teanna braced herself for a long, silent ride, but Kelly would have none of that. She often switched satellite radio stations to skip commercial interruptions and incessantly talked on her holophone device. About 15 minutes from the prison, she veered off an exit and pulled into the parking lot of a fast food restaurant.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you, Miss Kirkwood. I leave straight from school to come here, but he eats at five o’ clock. The traffic usually pushes me close to then and there’s no visitation when they’re eating. So, I usually stop here and get a quick bite.”
“Sure,” she absentmindedly replied. “Whatever you need.”
Kelly unlatched her security harness and parked. “It’s a little too chilly to sit out here. Why don’t you come inside? At least have something hot to drink.”
Teanna snapped back from her thoughts. “Yes! Okay, sure. Let’s go.”
At the counter, Kelly ordered more food than Teanna thought an 18-year-old girl weighing no more than 100 pounds could consume. She paid for a cup of coffee and a pastry.
The pair sat down and ate. Before Teanna had enough time to get a third of the way down her cup, Kelly had already consumed most of her double cheeseburger and a half container of shoestring French fries.
“Can I ask you somethin’, Kelly? It’s kinda personal.”
A dot of ketchup stubbornly lingered at the corner of her mouth. “I guess.”
“You always eat like that? You makin’ me nervous.”
Kelly giggled with a full mouth. “Tay says the same thing.”
She never noticed Teiji had been dating anyone until months into the relationship.
“Our first date, we went to the movies to see an old romantic drama, The Experiment. Tay picked me up with a single violet rose, which is my favorite. He thought the female lead, I forgot her name. . .she’s gorgeous. And the guy who played her love interest – he’s yummy.
“So afterward, we came here and sat in this same booth. Tay thought I’d order something cute. When my order cost as much as his and I ate through it twice as fast as he did, he said I made him nervous. I think it’s the first time a boy didn’t think I had an eating disorder.”
Every once in a while, Teanna posed a question. But for the most part, the teenager went on and on about Teiji without provocation. The girl knew more about Teiji than Teanna did. They discussed his favorite music, activities and interests. Kelly credited the visible changes in Teiji’s attitude and behaviors to her erstwhile boyfriend’s presence, while Teanna had dismissed them as teenage insolence.
When Kelly finished stuffing her face, Teanna checked the time on her holophone device. 5:25. “How long's their dinnertime? You know?”
“An hour.” Kelly crumbled her food packages and slid them toward the table edge, but kept her soda cup. “We can go now. By the time we get there, he’ll be waiting.”
“Waitin’ for you, not for me.”
“He doesn’t know you’re coming.” They slipped through the exit door. “No matter how much he says he hates you, he still loves you.”
“No. Not after this.”
“In spite of this,” she insisted. “It’s not really love, if it can’t stand testing.”
Kelly’s wisdom caught Teanna off-guard. “What you know ‘bout that?”
“I don’t yet,” she admitted. “Teiji told me that when he considered the internship.”
The internship! Heaviness formed in Teanna’s stomach. She had cost her son the chance of his short lifetime. Even with time off for good behavior, he would be in his late 20’s, with no college education, and a felony on his permanent record upon his release. Who’ll hire him? Not Senator Mateo. What’ll Tay become?
The path to the meeting room wound around various prisoner facilities. Men in bright jumpsuits lifted weights, read books, played indoor basketball, or loitered by leaning against building supports and chewing the fat with one another. Many did not appear hardened by their confines, but a few looked downright scary. Neither Teanna nor Kelly made eye contact with the more nefarious looking. Those men stared, as the women passed by. Just a couple whistles and profane comments passed before the security guard warned them of impending discipline.
When Teiji came into the room, his pleasure at seeing Kelly got tempered by his mother’s presence. He greeted his girlfriend with a hearty hug and kiss on the lips. Teanna stood and opened her arms, but Teiji shunned her. Kelly smacked his chest for doing so, but his position did not change. The three sat down. Only then, did Teanna notice Teiji’s face bore an assortment of cuts and bruises at various stages of healing.
Filled with emotion, she reached out for her son’s hands, which he withdrew from the table.
“Only a matter of time,” he deadpanned. “Using Kelly to get me to see you? You hate her. You don’t even know her last name!”
“It was my idea, Tay,” Kelly explained. “She doesn’t hate me. And it’s Roshenburger.”
“Watch. . .wait until she’s done using you. See how much she likes you then.”
“Talk to me,” Teanna implored. “What they doin’ to you up in here?”
“I’m locked up with real criminals. I’m just the kid protecting his family when no one else would. What do I get for that? Fifteen years and I missed my sister’s funeral.”
“I missed it, too. I’d trade places with you, if I could.”
Teiji rolled his eyes. “Sure. You had your chance with Tiny. You didn’t take it. I did.”
Kelly had never seen this degree of hatred in him. “Calm down, Tay.”
Teanna composed herself. “I lost the house ‘cause of the sniff. Got me in a halfway house now, drug rehab program.”
“Just tell me one thing. It’s the only thing I think about, and I gotta know.” Venom rose in his voice. “Why did you even have us, if you were going to be high half the time? You ruined my life and took Mel’s!”
With sudden life, Teanna sprung to her feet and pushed the chair back from the table. Teiji did the same, which alerted the security guard. He carefully approached to assess whether there was a threat. Kelly backed away.
“Since you ‘big man’ now, I’m gonna look you in the eye and tell you straight.”
Unlike a few weeks ago, he did not cower from confrontation. “Good.”
“Only difference b
etween what you goin’ through and what I been through? Can’t see my scars. Ain’t been the best mother, but I sure ain’t the worst. Tried to do my best for you and your sister, and I ain’t succeed all the time. But you ate, every day, even if you ain’t like it. We moved from time to time, but you had a roof over your head. And yeah, I messed up, got high and fell in with the wrong guys, but Tay, this ain’t what I had in mind for you or her!”
Teiji’s tough façade shattered. “Then why. . .” he trembled. “Why didn’t you protect us from him? Why didn’t you do anything? How did you not know?”
“I swear. . .I ain’t know. If I knowed, I‘d have done somethin’.”
For several minutes, mother and son bathed each other in tears as an emotional Kelly stood nearby. Whenever Teanna pulled away, Teiji scrambled back into her arms – like he did as a toddler. Injuries, insomnia, and sickness drove him to clutch onto Teanna for dear life, as he did now, and his mother never refused him. Kelly wanted to include herself in the moment, but recognized it as a two-person healing.
Absolution. Teanna scooted her mouth toward his ear and whispered. “I know, I know. I love you, no matter what you done, no matter what you do. I’m so sorry for everythin’ I done to you. Can’t blame you, if you never forgive me.”
“But I. . .” Sniffles muffled his words. Teanna wanted to erase the guilt he felt over accidentally killing Meleasa and the eventual remorse he may experience for shooting Tiny. He would carry it until he died. A prison sentence and a long parole would not change that.
“Three minutes remain in this visitation period,” the security guard announced. The other prisoners bade goodbye to their loved ones. Teanna and Teiji released one another and settled back into their chairs. Kelly smiled. This was not the end, but the beginning of a better ending.
“I’m gonna be going away for a special treatment on Thursday, so I ain’t gonna be seeing you anytime soon.” Teanna used a balled-up tissue in her pocket to finish the assault on her running mascara. “Gotta kick this thing for good. But I‘ll see you again. I’ll let your dad know. Maybe he’ll come. Until then, Kelly’ll take good care of you.”
“Yes.” Kelly blew her red nose. “Yes, I will.”
“Counting on that.” Teanna squeezed Kelly’s free hand. Teiji issued a smile towards his girlfriend, who returned one just as bright and wide.
“What kind of treatment?” His mother had never entered Alcoholics Anonymous or anything like it. She always insisted that she could go cold turkey.
“Honestly, I’m not sure. The hospital arranged it. Wish me luck.”
CHAPTER TEN
January 19, 2050
Quinne dipped her stiff hands inside of her woolen coat pockets, a smile creeping across her lips. She had served her sentence victoriously, and with humility. The atmosphere had not stained her soul. It had with others. Her cellmate – a middle-aged white woman awaiting trial for a domestic crime – blanched a degree or two each day. Quinne thought the woman would rather drop unconscious from pain than to use the commode in front of her. On their second day together, she gave in and dropped her pants. Quinne stifled a laugh. “It’s no big deal,” she assured her.
“It is,” she had uttered, deeply exhaling. “To me, it is.”
“Okay, I gotta know. What you in here for?”
“Stabbing my husband, actually.” She cursed him. “We have plenty of money, but he won’t bail me out. He’s actually pressing charges!”
Quinne asked nothing else, but her cellmate gushed forth a confession. “He hit me, once, at first. I thought it was a fluke. He did it again. The third time, he broke my nose. This last time, he threatened to kill me, so I figure I’ll do him one better. I never reported him, so it looked totally one-sided. And here I am.”
That final morning, the stench in the hold startled Quinne awake. Her new friend squatted on the toilet in plain sight. She chuckled and turned over in bed, shielding her nose. It took almost two weeks, but the woman had grown to be an acquaintance. They agreed not to forget one another on the outside.
The group sessions, on the other hand, would not be missed. By a remarkable coincidence, the same doctor she resolved to never visit moderated the group once per week. Dr. Adharma was part of the Genesis Institute’s outreach program to prevent recidivism. The man’s bedside manner was brusque and to the point. While Quinne appreciated candor in her personal life, she preferred a softer touch in psychoanalysis.
She checked her watch, which she appreciated having the ability to do. Cee Cee’s transport pulled up, just as she dropped her hand back into the shielding of her coat. She lifted the Tarpan’s butterfly door and entered the passenger’s side. Her friend offered her a mint coffee from Caribou- her favorite holiday hot drink. Quinne giggled and sipped from the insulated steel mug. “You just might be the best friend ever.”
“I’m glad you think so.” The engine revved into gear. “Welcome back.”
They rode in silence for a minute, absorbing the moment. Quinne drank the cappuccino to its last. “Sorry you missed Wednesday mornin’ Bible study to come out here.”
“I didn’t.” Cee Cee turned on the dashboard’s screen console, which showcased her pastor concluding his morning message. “Do you mind?”
“No,” she said convincingly enough to placate Cee Cee. “Enjoy.”
Quinne zoned out on the sermon until the call for discipleship, but she picked up enough religious buzz talk to know the message had something to do with “tricks of the enemy” and “resisting the devil.” Her devil no longer had a foothold in her life. Generally, after she remained clean for at least two weeks, she could deal for a while without an illegal stimulant in her system.
“Hungry?” Cee Cee asked after the service faded out. “Split a pizza?”
Quinne thought of the cost. “We could eat in. E’erythin’ they give you in jail’s kinda starchy. Keeps you full longer for less.”
“Got it.” Cee Cee noticed a twinge of anxiety in her roommate’s voice. “Your supervisor called and he said. . .”
“. . .that I’m no longer needed? You ain’t gotta sugarcoat it, Cee. I ain’t the first girl to get hemmed up and fired. Seen it happen a couple times.”
“Well, there’s unemployment in the meantime. You can do it online.”
“Thanks,” she deadpanned. “Now, all I gotta do is commit check fraud, claim some kids that ain’t mine and collect some disability, too.”
“No, Q, you are not Anibel.”
She stared at the passing buildings. “Ain’t I, though?”
“No. You’re different.”
“Look,” she redirected. “I owe you big time. Say the word and I’m out.”
“And what would I do with an extra bedroom?” she mused. “Who’s going to call me on my crap and drink all the coffee? Besides, I hate interviewing roommates. Avoiding that is worth half the rent and utilities for at least a couple more months.”
Quinne shook her head violently. “No, I gotta put in equal share.”
“Right now, you can’t. You can take it, or leave it and live on the street.”
“Fine. But I’m payin’ you back.”
“First, we eat. I want pizza, so you can get something else, if you want. And we can talk.”
“Troy’s dead, baby’s dead. I get it. Let’s move on and talk about something else.”
Cee Cee stopped in front of a pizza parlor and they slid into a booth, where she ordered for the both of them. Despite Quinne’s expressed preference to the contrary, her friend knew her heart’s desire. Quinne heartily ate four slices. The food in jail had been doughy, but unpleasantly so. This collection of cheese, sausage and pepperoni slathered in delectable grease was a different story. She even devoured the crust. At the conclusion of the meal, Quinne sat back and relaxed a little.
“So, I guess they weren’t feeding you in there after all, huh?”
Quinne muffled a belch. “Yep, but it just ain’t good food.”
“I’ve been
in the prison ministry before, but not inside. What’s it like?”
“Prison?” She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “An extended time-out with bars.”
“Stop it.”
“Think about it. . .what lil’ kids do in ‘time-out’? Stand in the corner and think about what they did, right? Jail’s the same thing. You got this small concrete box with a toilet, sink and bunk beds. It’s way too noisy to sleep ‘til lights out and since you can’t read the noise out you try to think it out.
“What do you think about? What you did. You talk in group about what you did and why you did it – sometimes promise yourself you ain’t gonna do the same thing the same way again.
“I mean, really – if you take Troy, put him on that same corner and he still dies. . .do I miscarry? Maybe. Do I start drinkin’? Probably. Does that lead to sniff? It did before. Lil’ kids do the same thing. They just gotta bump they heads enough so that they stop.”
Cee Cee sipped soda from a white straw. “Have you bumped your head enough, or do you need to stand in the corner again?”
Quinne waited to answer until some other patrons passed. “I know this gonna sound like some wild junkie talk,” she whispered, leaning over her plate, “but when I took that last hit, I saw somethin’.”
“Save it Q.” She pressed her thumb against the plate on the table’s edge and added gratuity with a few finger grazes. “Ready?”
“Dead serious.” She grabbed Cee Cee’s hand. “I gotta tell someone.”
The seriousness in Quinne’s grasp startled her friend. “Tell me about it on the way home.”
En route to the apartment in Cee Cee’s Tarpan, Quinne unraveled the tale. “I went back to Anibel’s, and she’s sleep after doing whatever. Anyway, Troy opens the door. We start kissin’ and what not, and then, he stops me. . .says he ain’t there for that. I ask him what he there for and he tells me I already know. So I flip out and he say I can’t go back. Next thing I know, I’m in the bathroom. . .”
“. . .for the record, I didn’t call the cops. The droid cashier did. . .”
Quinne waved her off. “Whatever. So then, I woke up.”
The Anarchists Page 9
