by Susanne Beck
My mind quickly put two and two together, came up with the requisite ‘four’, and forced me to look at my friend with wide eyes.
"Exactly. The treatment for my husband’s dirty little illness gave me the perfect means to extricate myself from his machinations. I made up a story about rats in the attic and he even went down to the store to buy me more of the stuff! Soon I was introducing it into his food, just small doses at first, of course. He’d never been very keen on taking his medicine, but I told him that I wouldn’t allow him into the marital bed until he’d become completely cured. Todd wanted an heir above all, so when I suggested doubling up on his medication, he complied without complaint. It was glorious."
Shaking her head, she laughed softly to herself. "And when the stomach pains started, I played the dutiful little wife and made sure to be seen weeping over my agony-ridden husband. I worked quickly then, stuffing all the arsenic down him I could. He died two days later. Such a grieving and bereft widow this world has never seen, if I do say so myself. His death was attributed to a case of the gastric flu that was going around at the time, complicated, of course, by his syphilis. Naturally, that little bit of information was kept quite hush hush and nary another word was mentioned. I was left with a tidy sum of money and a grand old house. And a maid who was young and beautiful. If there is such a thing as perfection in life, I had achieved it."
"So, what happened?" I’m sure I must have sounded like a persistent little child, begging for a bed-time story, but I couldn’t help myself. I was utterly fascinated by her tale.
"The money ran out quite quickly, I’m afraid. As did the maid. So, being a poor widow in the prime of her life with some social status to boot, I moved away to a town close by and found myself another husband. This time, I was lucky enough to find a rich, older gentleman who already had some long standing stomach problems. He wanted to be married quickly, and I was happy to oblige him. I quickly set myself up as the doting, long suffering wife. I accompanied him on his myriad of journeys to this doctor or that, always taking care to be seen and to be concerned. He was quite a hypochondriac, though in those days, it was known as eccentric. And you know what they say about the boy who cried wolf."
"He got eaten in the end."
Corinne flashed me that hard, triumphant smile of hers. "Exactly."
I shuddered at the expression but managed to keep my voice steady. "Why did you have to kill him, though? Did he abuse you?"
"Oh no. Randolph was quite a nice man when he wasn’t complaining about his various aches and pains. We got along quite well, as a matter of fact."
"Then why?"
"Because I had discovered an elemental truth about myself during my time with my first husband."
"And what was that?"
"I enjoyed killing. I enjoyed the power it gave me, and I enjoyed the benefits I obtained. I had no need for a man in my life, except for the money they would leave me at their deaths. It was clean. It was simple. And it was fun."
I shuddered again, but Corinne didn’t seem to notice. "And so you just . . .killed them. With no remorse."
"Precisely."
"Just like snuffing out a candle?"
"Very good analogy, Angel. That’s exactly what it was like. There were no bad emotions behind the act. Though I must admit that I enjoyed watching them suffer and call out to me as if I were some malignant angel of mercy who could grant them eternal peace. I imagine that’s what the old gods of death felt like when they snuffed out a life. Powerful. Happy. In complete control."
Swallowing against the dryness in my throat, I broke the lock of our gazes, once again looking down at the scarred table-top as if it would provide the answers I sought. Hard as I tried, I couldn’t seem to wrap my mind around the concept of joy in murder. It was as alien a thought to me as there could ever be. I thought back to my own time of depression and profound remorse that followed the killing of my husband. And that was done in self defense! The thought of killing him because I simply wanted to tore at my guts like a razor.
And yet here was a woman who I’d come to care for and regard almost like a mother figure, sitting calmly next to me discussing her enjoyment of killing as if she were reporting the weather. I felt a cold, dead space grow inside me and my body drew in on itself as I wrapped my arms around my shoulders, elbows tight to my chest.
Corinne’s expression became sad as she looked at me. "And now I’ve upset you, sweet Angel. That wasn’t my intention, I assure you."
"I know that Corinne," I returned, my voice soft and introspective. "It’s just that . . . . It all seems so hard to believe; as if I’m having a dream and just waiting for something to come along and wake me up. I guess it wouldn’t be so strange if I didn’t feel so close to you, but I do. I’ve come to care for you a great deal, Corinne, and when you tell me things like this about yourself, well, it scares me. It almost makes me feel that that caring is for a person I don’t even know, or maybe for a person who isn’t even there. And that’s frightening for me."
"And for that I apologize deeply, Angel. Though you’ve known who I was since the day you met me, I suppose that anyone can choose to overlook parts of someone they don’t wish to see. It seems to be part of the human condition. As if in ignoring it, it will simply go away." When she looked again at me, her gaze was calm and direct, showing me through eye contact alone everything she was, and could be. "Angel, I do care for you. Very much. You’ve been a ray of light in this dark and dreary place. But if you can’t look me in the eye without experiencing fear or revulsion, then I think it’s best if we end this here and now and spare us both later heartache."
As I gazed at my friend, I thought long and hard over the things she had said. And I knew she had spoken the truth. Corinne had never tried to come across as someone she wasn’t. She’d never hidden her deeds, nor made light of them. She spoke about her past with honesty and never tried to sugar-coat it for the benefit of my friendship. I realized that, in the time I had known her, she had always been a murderer, yet I had gotten to both know and care about her despite that fact, or maybe even, if I were to be totally honest with myself, because of it. And I also realized that without her presence, my life would be lacking something that I didn’t want to give up.
"I don’t want that, Corinne. I don’t want to lose you as a friend because of my shallow thinking. You’re an important person in my life and if you can forgive my fear and ignorance, I’d like to continue our relationship."
My friend smiled, obviously relieved. "I’d like that very much as well, Angel." With a happy grin, she slumped back into her chair. "Now, before we got off on this torturous tangent of ours, we were speaking about attraction to women, were we not?"
Her direct gaze made me blush once again and I nodded.
"Well, then. I’m assuming that you’re asking me because there’s a chance you might be attracted to someone right here in our happy little home?"
My blush deepened as I nodded again.
"Let’s see. Who could it be? Perhaps our fair Critter? I’ve seen the way she looks at you."
Her eyes twinkled mischievously as mine widened. Critter? "No. No, Critter’s a very attractive woman, but she’s just a friend."
"Hmmm." Obviously having fun at my expense, Corinne pretended to ponder the question. "Pony, perhaps? Or Sonny? No? Is it Montana then? Now there’s an intense, striking woman. Ah, if I were only a few years younger."
"No. None of them."
Her eyes went round with false innocence. "Then who, dear Angel? You forget, I’m an old woman. My mind isn’t as sharp as it once was. These guessing games go right past me, I’m afraid."
I took a deep breath. And then another. "It’s Ice," I mumbled to the tabletop.
"Who? Speak up, dear. My hearing’s not what it used to be either."
If there were ever a moment in my life where I would have truly enjoyed killing someone, it would have been right then. Corinne’s gaze was sharp and mirthful, allowing me no quarter. "It’s Ic
e," I repeated, more succinctly this time.
Her grin was triumphant. "Ahhhh. So the tall, dark and deadly one has managed to mesmerize my sweet little Angel, has she?"
"Corinne . . . ." I was surprised the sprinklers hadn’t been set off, my face got so hot.
"Oh come now, Angel. You think I haven’t noticed those cute little puppy-dog eyes you get every time you catch sight of her? I may be old, but I’m not blind."
"Corinne, please." If there had been an electric chair handy, I would have gladly strapped myself in and used a broom handle to pull the lever. Is it possible to die of embarrassment?
"Oh alright," my friend said, sounding a bit petulant. "You’re just so much fun to tease, Angel. Your face gets the most delightful shade of red. Almost a rose color. It’s quite beautiful."
"Corinne. . . ."
"Alright, alright. I’ll stop. For now."
A breath of thanks rushed out of my lungs. "Please," I managed to choke out.
"This attraction you have for Ice, does it bother you?"
"No. Yes. God, I don’t know!" Propping my elbows on the table, I slumped my still heated face into my hands.
"Alright, let’s go through this logically. Do you have a problem with the fact that she’s a woman?"
"No. Not exactly. I mean, I’ll admit it’s a little strange since I’ve never been attracted to a woman before, unless you count my first grade teacher Mrs. Price."
"I think we can be safe in leaving her out of this for the moment."
"I think you’re right. It’s not the attraction itself that bothers me so much. It’s the intensity of it. I’ve never felt something like this before. In anything. I know you’ve talked about the connection between us before and part of me wants to believe you but . . . ." I sighed, unable yet again to voice my thoughts. "This is just so beyond my experience I’m having trouble knowing what to do with my feelings."
"Have you ever thought of talking with Ice about them?"
I looked up at her, stunned. My mouth opened and closed a few times but I couldn’t get the words out.
"Cat got your tongue?" Corinne was positively smug.
"Are you crazy?!?"
"Some would say so, yes."
"I mean about this! Have you forgotten that I only talked to the woman for the first time the day before yesterday?"
"And your point would be . . . ?"
Still stunned, all I could do was shake my head. "You have got to be kidding me, Corinne. Please tell me you’re kidding me."
"I was quite serious, actually."
"Great. That’s just great. What do you suggest, Corinne? You think I should just waltz into Ice’s cell, pin her to the bed and say ‘Hey, Ice, I just wanted you to know that, even though we’ve said a grand total of five words to one another, I think I’m in love with you. And if it’s not love, it’s some intense kind of lust. Will you please kiss me’?"
My friend shrugged. "Why not? Works for me."
For the first time in my life, I actually growled with frustration. Collapsing against the table, Corinne started laughing so hard I was actually worried that she’d give herself a stroke.
As I sat there scowling and feeling rather petulant myself, my friend finally managed to bring herself under some sort of control. Isolated chuckles still escaped her as she dabbed at her tear-streaked face with a corner of her shawl. "Oh Angel, sweet, beautiful, wonderful Angel. How I ever survived thirty years in this depraved pit without your presence I’ll never know."
"I’m not laughing over here, Corinne," I muttered, giving her my best impression of a displeased look.
"I know, Angel. And I apologize for my outburst. It’s just that you forget about the beauty of innocence in a place like this. Its freshness brings a joy to my heart. Forgive me for expressing that joy through laughter. It’s not something I did much of before you came into my life."
Suddenly, I felt very much like a heel. "Corinne, I’m sorry. This is just all so confusing for me. My dreams as a little girl didn’t include serving time for murder or having an intense attraction to a fellow inmate, woman or man. I’m starting to feel out of control all over again, and I don’t like that."
"Oh Angel, I know what you’re going through, believe me. Just remember, though, you’ve only had a day or two to figure out what’s going on with you in regards to Ice. Getting a handle on those kinds of feelings will take time, and if there’s one thing we have in abundance here in the Bog, it’s time." She laid a gentle hand on my wrist and I absorbed the warmth of her skin gratefully. "My suggestion to you is to just sit back, relax, drink some tea, and let the world go on without you for awhile."
Despite myself, I cracked a smile. "Is tea your answer for everything?"
"Pretty much, yes. Would you like some?"
"Sounds like the best offer I’ve had all day."
Brown eyes twinkled as they looked back at me from over one of Corinne’s shoulders. "I could make you a better one."
"Don’t start."
My day managed to end much better than it started and for that, I was happy.
PART 3
THE END OF that week found me, as always, in the library, my thoughts on one subject in particular calmer if not more ordered. I’d only seen Ice to nod to in the hallways. Her eyes, when they met mine, were guarded, but no longer cold. I guessed that meant she’d forgiven me for my faux pas.
I had just put the finishing touches on an open book exam for one of my college courses when Phyllis stepped into the room bearing a small package and a smile for all of us, particularly Corinne. Since our discussion the week before, I’d taken the time to study the interaction between the two and noticed small things that I’d never had cause to see before. Though fraternization between inmates and guards was strictly forbidden, it looked like there was more going on between them than met the eye.
The tall guard headed over to my area as I closed my composition book, perching a hip on the corner of the table and looking down at me with warm eyes. "How’s it going, Angel?"
"Not bad. Just finished up the last of my courses for the semester."
"How’d you do?"
"Well, since it was open book, I think I got an A."
She grinned. "Tough life."
Returning the smile, I pushed the tablet and pen away from me. "How’s Laura?"
The young woman had remained in the infirmary most of the week, suffering from a skull fracture and a mild concussion from Derby’s beating. She’d just been released the day before and had been taken directly to the segregation unit for her own protection. I couldn’t help but continue to feel guilty about that since, in her own way, she was as isolated as Derby was down in the hole.
"She’s doin’ alright. She kinda likes the seg unit. Makes her feel safer. I think we’ll keep her there for a little while longer. Derby and Mouse are out of the picture for awhile, but there’s others who’ll try and finish what they started."
Some of my guilt must have shown on my face because she placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it slightly. "Don’t feel bad for speaking out, Angel. Justice was served. That’s a good thing."
"It’s not such a good thing if it makes her even more of a target than before, Phyllis."
"Angel, I might not want it this way, but the sad fact of life, hon, is that kids like Laura are always going to be targets no matter what they do. She’s little more than a kid who made a stupid mistake. God knows this isn’t the place for her, but what can we do? We just do our jobs and protect her, and the rest of the inmates, the best we can."
"Forgive me for saying so, Phyllis, but from where I’m standing, it doesn’t look like you’re doing a very good job at all. If Ice hadn’t walked in when she did, there quite probably could have been two of us beaten half to death instead of just Laura."
Shifting slightly, Phyllis curled her hand around the edge of the table, her knuckles whitening over the tan of her flesh. "It hurts to hear you say that, Angel, even though I know it’s true. The econ
omy being what it is, people are paying more attention to gas prices than to prison expenses. The pay just isn’t high enough to entice anyone to come into this line of work. And the ones they do manage to entice usually don’t stay very long." She smiled. "The working conditions aren’t always exactly pleasant."
"I realize that, Phyllis, and I’m not blaming you, personally. It’s just that I think that most of the outside world sees us as a bunch of depraved monsters getting our just desserts. Not everyone in here is like that, though. And, underneath it all, we’re still human beings."
"I agree," the guard replied. "I just don’t know what we can do to change things. I’m not happy about young girls getting beaten bloody either."
"I know." Leaning back in my chair, I laced my fingers behind my head. "Maybe I’ll figure something out. After all," I glanced over to Corinne, "I’ve got a lotta time on my hands."
"I have faith in you, Angel," Phyllis replied, laughing. "Speaking of time, I need to get back to work." She held out the package she’d walked in with. "This came for you this morning. I rescued it before they could tear it to shreds."
Reaching out, I took the package, surprised to note that the wrapping was smooth and unbroken. As I’m sure you’re aware, the rule in prison is to thoroughly search all incoming and outgoing packages for contraband. That’s one of the reasons I never considered purchasing weapons for any of my customers, since I’d be the one sent to solitary and believe me, that’s a place you most definitely want to avoid at all costs.
I looked up at her, curious. She just smiled and patted my shoulder. "When I looked at the return address, I knew who it was for, " she said, as if that explained everything.
And perhaps, in a way, it did.
The package had come from the J & R Garden Supply Store and looked to be the bonsai rake I’d ordered the week before. My contact had come through for me once again. "Thanks," I said, for more than the package.
