by Susanne Beck
"No. That’s ok. I’ll be fine. Really. The way I feel, I’ll probably just sleep straight through to tomorrow morning anyway." I yawned again to make my story convincing.
Crooking me a smile as she straightened, she fiddled with my sheet for a brief second more before backing away. "I’ll be back here tonight to check in on you. And I’ll be sending some of the Amazons up during the day just to make sure you don’t need anything."
I gave her an overly-dramatic sigh. "Oh alright, Ms. Warden wannabe."
She threw back her own mock-hurt expression in return. "Fine. Just for that, I’ll send Critter up here every hour with a thermometer and some lube to take your temperature . . .the right way." Her eyes were positively sparkling with glee.
I gulped. "I’ll be good," I squeaked.
Winking, she gave me one of her full-on smiles, leaving me dazzled. "I know you will be. Sweet dreams, my Angel. Feel better soon."
Pain? What pain?
PART 15
MIRACULOUSLY, I SUPPOSE, I managed to make it through the rest of Saturday and all of Sunday without any major incidents. The milk did its job, allowing me to keep down the antibiotics which, in turn, did their job in decreasing the swelling, redness and pain in my leg so that, by the time Monday morning rolled around, bite and knife wounds were healing nicely and I was able to once again dress in my uniform without an appreciable bulge showing.
Still, after the cell doors had been opened for the day, I waited an additional few minutes to be sure Ice was safely down at the auto shop before venturing forth to start my Monday. The woman had a sixth sense about things, and I knew this weekend had pushed my credibility to the limit, if she had even bought my act at all, and the jury was still out on that particular count, to use an apt analogy.
After a solitary breakfast, I made my way down to the library. The tension I’d missed by playing ‘possum all weekend returned with a vengeance. I’m sure it had never really left, but the more or less peaceful island of my solitary cell kept me in calm waters over the weekend.
As I walked, I counted no less than fifteen separate incidents, mostly arguments between guards, inmates and guards, and inmates. Thankfully, none of the ones I saw denigrated into out and out physical confrontations. While I felt much better, I wasn’t yet ready to test my body’s healing by trying to get between two angry women with hurting on their mind.
As I slipped into the sanctuary of the library, I did so with a sigh of relief. Corinne greeted me with a smile. She bustled over to the table and sat down next to me, her hands folded on the scarred wood, her expression expectant. "So?"
I looked at her, confused. "So . . .what?"
"How do you feel?"
"Fine?"
She smiled. "Good. That’s good."
I narrowed my eyes at her. "What’s going on, Corinne?"
Her own eyes went wide. "Whatever do you mean, Angel?"
"Alright," I spat. "Out with it. Why is everyone in this damn prison acting like they’re in need of some serious laxative therapy and why are you sitting there like you just ate the canary."
"Actually, I noticed that the natives were getting a little restless too, now that you mention it," Corinne commented, adjusting her glasses. "Not sure why, though."
"You?" I asked, shocked at the admission. "The woman who knows when someone’s gonna sneeze before they do it? The great Corinne, Oracle of the Bog?"
She frowned at me. "I’m hardly perfection personified, Angel."
I laughed. "I’m going to have to write that one down."
Folding her meaty arms across her abundant chest, Corinne gave me her best affronted glare. "Fine. If you don’t want to hear the good news, which, let me tell you, I kept safe from the ravaging hordes of inquisitive little noses just for you, then you can trot your little fanny right out of this little library of mine."
Having, by this time, known Corinne more than four years, I could usually tell when her hurt was real or feigned. By the look in her eye, I knew she was leading me on, as was usually the case with her. Still, I decided to do the honorable thing and give in. Besides, I really wanted to know what the good news was. "Please, Corinne," I began, with as much faux-docility in my voice and manner as I could manage without laughing, "I’m very sorry if I offended you with my attitude. Please say you forgive me?"
"Oooo. You’re good, Angel."
I smirked. "Thank you. Now, what’s the news? Or do you want me on my knees, begging."
"Don’t tempt me, child. Just seeing you in that position would almost make getting torn into five equal pieces by Ice worth the pain." Her dark eyes were filled with mirth.
"Corinne? The news? Please?"
Grinning at me, she reached through her shawl and into the folds of her jumpsuit, returning with a piece of paper in her hand. "Early Saturday morning, Phyllis came looking for you about a phone call. Ice had been up to see you already and told us you were a bit under the weather, so I asked Phyllis if she could take a message. She agreed, and a short time later, came back with this." She held the paper tauntingly, the printed area for her eyes only.
Groaning in frustration, I threw my hands up in the air. "Come on, Corinne!"
She saw my groan and raised me an over-dramatic sigh. "Oh, fine. Be that way. Here." Slamming the note face down, she pushed it across the table to me.
"Thank you," I responded with forced politeness as I picked up the paper and turned it over. Printed across the blank tableau in Corinne’s bold, distinctive hand, were three simple words. "We did it!"
Cocking my head in confusion, I looked back up at my friend who was trying unsuccessfully to hold back a grin. "Who did what?" I asked. "Corinne, who’s this message from?"
Corinne let her smile show through. "Your lawyer, Angel. It was Donita on the phone. She didn’t give out any more information than that, but Phyllis said that she told her to make sure you called her at her office when you were feeling up to it."
"And that would be right now!" Grinning like a madwoman, I jumped to my feet, the printed note crumpled in my hands. With a whooping yell that almost startled Corinne into a heart attack, I left the library at a run.
* * *
When I returned, my color was high, my chest was laboring, and my eyes were wet with happy tears. I nearly bowled Corinne over as I wrapped her portly form in a huge bear-hug, sending her glasses skittering off her nose to hang on the silver chain she kept around her neck. I planted a big kiss on her dry, weathered cheek, then released her, stepping away, laughing.
"Well, I can only hope to be the bearer of more good news in the future," she said, bemusedly touching her cheek and smiling dazedly at me.
"I feel great!" Throwing my arms out, I twirled around the library, missing the assembled furniture and patrons only by luck. "She did it!"
My friend gave me an infinitely patient smile usually reserved for two-year-olds who have hidden mommy’s wallet and don’t possess the requisite verbal skills to tell her where it might be. "I think we’ve all gotten that bit by now, Angel. The question here is, what is ‘it’?"
"Donita talked to the judge on Friday evening. After seeing the evidence, he’s agreed to overturn the verdict!"
"Heaven bless the persistent," Corinne breathed, clasping her hands over her breast. "Angel, that’s wonderful news!"
I was grinning so hard, I thought my face would shatter. "I know. God, I’m so excited!"
"So, when ya bein’ sprung?" one of the inmates asked from her place near the stacks.
"Well, my lawyer and the judge talked to the DA, but he refuses to drop the charges. He thinks that despite everything, he still has a case against me."
"What about bond?" asked a second prisoner.
"Donita and the DA couldn’t agree on a figure. I told her it was alright, though. I don’t mind being here till a new trial." I shrugged. "I don’t have anywhere else to go anyway."
"Have they set a trial date?" Corinne asked.
"Donita says it’ll probably be
in a month or two. They’ve got a pretty heavy caseload over there, but she’s throwing around words like ‘deliberate jury tampering’, ‘perjurious eye-witnesses’, ‘unjust incarceration’ and ‘lawsuit’. She’s pretty sure my turn will come soon."
This time it was Corinne who enveloped me in a full-body hug. Totally giddy, I willingly sunk into the soft roundness of her frame, taking in her scent of ink and paper and tea. "I must be dreaming," I whispered.
"No you’re not, sweet Angel." Releasing me, Corinne gently cupped my cheeks, then turned my head, planting on kiss to either side of my face and one full on my lips. Then she smiled and stepped away. "This is real. Enjoy the feeling. God knows, you deserve it."
"I just can’t believe it’s happening. I don’t think it’s really set in yet. God." I looked wildly around. "I need to see Ice. I need to tell her the news."
Corinne stepped forward once again, putting a restraining hand on my arm. "That’s not the best of ideas right now."
A thrill of fear skittered down my spine. "Why not?"
"Digger came looking for you when you were off talking to Donita just now. Apparently, Ice got into another row with the Warden."
"Oh no. What was it about?"
"Digger didn’t know. All she said was that there was a whole lot of shouting. She thought it might have had something to do with a job of some sort, but she wasn’t sure."
"Did she get sent to the hole?" Even my heart stopped as I waited for the answer.
"No. Back down to the auto-shop, I’d expect. Digger said she’d never seen Ice as angry as she was when she came out of the office. Said she almost pushed another inmate through the wall on her way out."
"I’d better go talk to her."
"It’s probably best if you wait, Angel. Give her a chance to cool down."
Before I could argue any further, a scream sounded from outside the library.
Jumping to my feet once again, I dashed out of the library, following the sound of the scream into the prison square. Halfway to the center of the square, I stopped and followed the crowd’s gaze upwards. "Oh shit," I half-whispered, shouldering my way through the crowd.
There, on the second floor, poised equidistant between Pony to the left and Phyllis on the right, was an inmate I’d never seen before straddling the iron railing. Almost directly behind the young woman, her face pressed hard up against the bars of door enclosing the segregation unit, was Psycho, grinning maliciously.
The crowd parted suddenly and I skid to a stop next to Critter, who was standing almost directly beneath the catwalk, her neck craned at a tendon-stretching angle as she looked almost straight up. I took a step back so as to more easily appraise the situation.
The woman looked to be my age or maybe a little younger, with a plump, well-rounded figure, lank blonde hair and thick glasses. Her round face was doughy-white and shiny with sweat. Her gray eyes were magnified behind the lenses of her glasses, giving her an absolutely terrified expression.
I watched as Pony took a careful step forward. The woman flung out an arm, almost toppling over the rail. "Don’t move! I’ll jump! I swear it! Not one step closer!"
Psycho’s cackling laugh sounded. "Oh please jump, little fish. You’d absolutely make my day. Why, if you tried hard enough, I bet you could even manage to break an ankle or two on your way down . . .from the second floor."
"Shut up!" the woman screamed, releasing her grip and slamming her hands over her ears. Her body wobbled once again and she skittered quickly for a handhold, still straddling the iron bars. "Just shut up!!"
Cassandra just continued to laugh, rattling the bars of her cage just to frighten the girl some more, which she did.
"What’s her name?" I shouted to Critter to be heard over Psycho’s howling laughter.
My friend turned to me. "I don’t know. I’ve never seen her before."
"Shit." I looked up at Pony, who shrugged. Phyllis also looked down at me, her expression fixed, intent. After what seemed like an hour, at least, Cassandra’s laughter wound down and I saw my opportunity. "What’s your name?" I shouted up to the girl on the rail.
Startled, she looked down at me, and the crowd gathered in the square, as if seeing us all for the first time. She tightened her grip on the railing, her lips clamped into a small line on her face.
I gave her my warmest smile. "C’mon. You can tell me. What’s your name? Mine’s Angel."
"I . . .my . . .my name’s Iris," she half-whispered.
"Speak up, dear!" Psycho’s jeering, insanely gleeful voice echoed through the silent square. "If you’re going to put on a show, you need to let all of your audience hear your lines."
"It’s alright, Iris," I said, warmly. "I heard you. Can you tell me why you’re up there?"
"Yes, tell us all, fishie! Tell us all what your little problem is. We’d so much like to hear it."
Iris turned her head back toward Psycho. "Shut up!" she screamed. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shutupshutupshutupshutup! SHUT! UP!"
As Cassandra howled in laughter once again, Pony made a move toward her cell. Iris caught the motion and shifted, overcompensating and sliding from the top rail.
The entire crowd sucked in a breath.
The girl managed to catch herself at the last moment and quickly yanked her body back onto the railing, still straddling it with one foot on the lowest rung. "Stay back!" she yelled to Pony.
Pony came to an abrupt stop as Cassandra opened her mouth once again. "Keep it shut, Psycho!"
"You’re gonna meet your maker for that one, Horsey-Girl," Cassandra snarled, rattling her cage once again.
"Remind me to piss my panties later, Psycho. For now, just shut the fuck up why don’t you."
"Make me, bitch."
Pony’s intent lunge was interrupted by yet another scream from Iris. She froze once again, mere feet from both Cassandra and the girl. Letting out a breath, she backed away slowly, her empty hands raised. "Alright," she murmured soothingly. "Alright. I’m not gonna hurt you. See?"
"Iris," I said, directing the terrified woman’s attention back to me. "Please, why do you want to do this? There must be something we can do."
"She’s the reason!" Iris screamed, pointing a shaking hand toward Psycho. "It’s all her fault!"
Cassandra howled again.
"Two weeks trapped inside with that . . .that . . .that monster! She wouldn’t let me sleep! She wouldn’t let me eat! Threatening me every minute of every day!" Tears streamed down her full face, magnifying her eyes even more. "And every night . . .every night she’d send that damned awful disgusting rat of hers into my cell!"
As I listened to the hysterical woman, I could see, from the corner of my eye, the truly evil grin that spread across Psycho’s face. When I saw her duck away from the door, I reached out and grabbed Critter, yanking her backward against me. "Go get Ice," I hissed into her ear.
"Wha--?"
"Go get Ice. Now. She should be down in the auto shop. Hurry."
Critter nodded once, then pulled away, sprinting through the square and down the hallway leading to the shops. I turned my head away from her just as another piercing scream rent the air.
I didn’t have to be at ground zero to know that Heracles had just put in an appearance.
Iris jumped so that her feet were balanced, almost like a surfer’s, on the top bar of the railing. Her body swayed violently to the left and right as she tried to keep her balance, all the while staring at the floor to her left and screaming without pause. "Get it away from me! Oh dear God, get it away from me!!!"
Cassandra’s vibrant voice could easily be heart through the panicked screaming. "Oh yes, little Heracles. Bite her. That’s it. Bite her legs off, Heracles. Suck her eyes out! Attack! Attack!!" The woman was positively braying with insane laughter as Heracles skittered back and forth at the very edge of the catwalk, his long whiskers twitching with animal excitement.
Screaming, Iris lost her balance, her feet slipping off the railing and plunging over
the outside. She managed to catch the top rail under her elbows and locked on tight, kicking her how free legs as the inquisitive rat came closer to explore this new prize.
From my vantage point down below, I knew that, in that very instant, was the time to strike. But I could also see that both Pony and Phyllis were frozen to their spots, watching instead of acting. I wanted to scream at them to break their paralysis, but just as I opened my mouth, Iris managed to hook one flailing leg over the lowest rung and pull herself back onto the rail, still screaming in terror.
Phyllis removed her baton and raised it high over her head, her eyes fixed on Heracles. "Call him back, Cassandra!" she shouted. "I’ll kill him if you don’t!"
That threat cut Psycho’s laugh off immediately. "You wouldn’t dare, piggy," she sneered.
"Just try me, Cassandra. Call him back now!"
There was several moments of a tense standoff before Psycho finally sighed. "Oh alright. This prison is such a bore." She whistled. "Come here, little Heracles. Come back to mommy, won’t you?"
Apparently, however, Heracles was too fond of his newfound freedom because he studiously ignored the pleas of his mistress, preferring instead to continue pacing beneath the screaming woman above him, his brown, beady eyes seeming to check her out from every angle.
"Heracles! You naughty boy! Come back in here this instant!"
A flash of orange sparked across the periphery of my vision and, when I turned my head, I saw Ice as she bounded up the stairs four at a time, her hair streaming behind her in an inky cloud.
Everyone’s focus turned to her. Even Iris stopped her screaming.
Cassandra smiled with what looked to be relief. "Oh, Ice, there you are. Would you be a dear and get my little Heracles back for me? He doesn’t seem to want to listen to his mommy today."
Arriving on the catwalk, Ice casually crossed her arms and smirked, eyebrow lifted, in the direction of Cassandra. "Seems like your little ‘pet’ has developed an attitude problem."
Psycho’s smile grew larger. "Oh, we have one more thing in common, then, don’t we."
