“I have been keeping tabs on you from a distance, my dear. We find that after such a traumatic experience, it’s best to first offer a little breathing room. But in light of recent events…”
“Do you mean my arrest? Or are you more concerned about my request to visit my mom in prison?”
My father frowns. “Xoey, I don’t think—”
“I can handle this, Sean.” Kino leans forward. “Which concerns you most, Xoey?”
Most? I want to see my mom more than ever so maybe that concerns me most. But Kelan is in jail after doing nothing wrong, and no matter what Trinidad says, I still feel responsible.
Neither of these concerns matter to Kino, though. She has something else in mind and I am not clever—or maybe devious—enough to know what she wants me to say. Instead, I offer up a quick prayer, hoping for instant guidance, then speak my mind.
“My first concern is that my senseless arrest resulted in an innocent man being charged with a crime. Kelan Thomas. Do you know that name? That’s what concerns me most, Major Kino. An innocent man being punished for a crime he didn’t commit.”
“Xoey!” My father sputters, his face turning red. “We talked about this—your irresponsible, naïve attitude. You need to trust our police to handle this, Xoey. Trust our president.”
I admit, I do not watch my father while he gets up and down from his patriotic soapbox. Instead I watch Kino. She’s pleased, I realize. No, thrilled that this is what I’ve chosen to say.
“Your father is right, Xoey,” Kino says. “We can trust the president and his team implicitly. However…”
She taps her knee with a red, lacquered fingernail. “I’m concerned about your state of mental health, my dear. So I will excuse your disrespectful outburst. Even more, I will look into the arrest of Kelan Thomas, if for no other reason than to offer you some sense of peace and resolution. After all, you are a good friend, Xoey. You always have been, haven’t you? A friend to those with…troubled personalities. We wouldn’t want to dampen that spirit. It could be the beginning of civic responsibility. Don’t you agree, Sean?”
“Oh.” My father frowns. “Of course.”
“What’s more,” Kino says. “I think we should grant Xoey’s other request. If you’ll permit it.”
“Her…what?”
“Xoey needs to see her mother,” Kino says. This time her smile travels all the way to her eyes, dilating them in true pleasure.
“But…”
Kino rises and walks toward me, offering me her hand. “And if you’ll permit it, Sean. I can take her to see Carly today.”
I go with Kino without argument, even while she talks my father—and his camera crew—out of accompanying us.
“You entrusted Xoey to my care before, Sean. You can trust me again.” Still, my heart pounds as we leave the apartment and ride the elevator down to the lobby. My father is still with us, maximizing his involvement by seeing us to Kino’s military transport, where he pulls me into a hug and admonishes me to be careful.
“You have the album release to look forward to,” he says, “along with the Grammys on Sunday. Don’t jeopardize your future by getting caught up in your mother’s fantasies again.”
I just nod and step into the car, which pulls from the curb as soon as Kino takes her seat across from me. I don’t know how far we have to drive to the prison where my mom is kept, but it’s enough time to ask some questions.
“You have no intention of helping Kelan Thomas, do you?” I ask Kino.
“Actually, I do.” She leans back against her seat and closes her eyes. “I should thank you for that, Xoey. Kelan is going to help me solve a problem. A delicate one.”
I frown. “A problem that is solved by freeing him? Or framing him?”
Kino sighs and opens her eyes. “I never know how these things will turn out, my dear. Why do you care so much? Was Kelan your date for the Grammys?”
“It doesn’t have anything to do with me,” I say. “He’s innocent and I know it. It is as simple as that.”
“So much virtue for one so young! It fascinates me. By chance, you and Reed Paine came to my office at Windmill Bay on the same day, both of you brimming with this…unnecessary preoccupation with how other people are treated. I find it exhausting to even imagine. And what good has it done you? What good has it done for either of you?”
“Maybe it’s the beginnings of civic mindedness.”
Kino laughs. “A sense of humor. Good. You’re going to need it, Xoey. I would be happy to teach you what else I’ve learned about survival. All you have to do is ask.”
“Your survival skills make me sad.”
Kino’s smile falters, but she doesn’t reply. The transport pulls to a stop and I look out the window. This isn’t a prison. It’s an airfield.
I frown. “I thought my mom would be somewhere close by.”
“No, my dear. And I’m afraid you’ll have to travel the rest of the way in the dark.”
Kino climbs out of the transport and begins walking toward a helicopter. I quickly follow. I am allowed to strap into my seat before a soldier pulls a dark bag over my head, but my heart is pounding now while I imagine all the possibilities. She’s taking me to a secret prison—maybe even the new Guantanamo that Bess and General Kelly told me about. Finally I can share some intelligence—not a location, of course, but at least distance.
But my thoughts quickly turn to other concerns. Why would my mom be housed in a secret prison? And is it possible—is it too much to hope—that wherever we are headed is the same prison where Kino is holding Oliver?
My heart thumps with the helicopter blades while my thoughts fly ahead of me. If I can figure out where we are going, I could return later with a team. Bess would help me. I’m sure of it. Together, we could break my mom and Oliver out of prison, maybe others who have been jailed there without cause.
Please, Lord, I pray. Please let all of this lead to something Good.
We are in the air for less than an hour, which means little since I can’t tell which direction we are flying. As soon as the helicopter touches down, someone guides me out of my seat and onto the tarmac. I can hear Kino’s shoes click clacking ahead of me, but I’m trying to take in everything else. I hear nothing except the helicopter, but the heat of this place astounds me. Dry wind tugs at my clothes. Sun bears down on me, burning through the black bag over my face. It’s so hot, I feel like Kino is dragging me into a furnace.
Lord, be with me!
A door glides open in front of me and I am scanned and nudged forward, crossing a threshold that must take me indoors. It is cooler in here, but not by much. We walk a few meters; another door clicks, and I am scanned before stepping forward again. This time, my escort pulls the bag off my head. While Kino stops to speak to a guard, I push my hair out of my eyes and blink until I can see again, taking in a long, windowless corridor with block walls.
The guard leads us toward the end of the corridor, where we pause to pass through a double locked gate. Here, we stop, and I am scanned a third time and thoroughly searched. This time, I must also scrawl my signature across the guard’s tablet, promising to abide by the prison’s rules or risk having my visitation privileges revoked. The second gate unlocks, and we pass through, walking down a series of hallways that look just like the first, but which leave me hopelessly turned around. The next door we pass through leads us to a viewing corridor which overlooks an empty courtyard. We quickly pass through to the other side.
“In here.” Kino gestures toward a room on the left, which is furnished with a metal table and two chairs. Kino sits in one of them and crosses her legs. “Now we wait.”
“I heard music,” I say. “In the first corridor where you stopped to talk to the guard.”
“Yes.” Kino smooths a wrinkle on her skirt. “Some of our prisoners are afforded certain luxuries. Music, art supplies, fine dining…”
It stirs a memory. Something Riley read to me about ancient France. “They pay for these privileges?”
Kino smiles. “You’re sharper than I remember. I’ll have to keep that in mind.”
“Sharp enough to know when someone is performing for the cameras,” I say.
“There are no cameras in here, Xoey. That is one of my favorite things about this room.”
The door is unlocking again. I stand up, wiping my hands on my pants, my eyes fixed on the doorway. My mom walks through.
“Xoey?”
She begins to cry while the guard unlocks shackles on her wrists and ankles, and I stand there watching, my hands working in and out of fists, my own tears strangely dammed behind a wall of anger. I turn to Kino.
“Why is she so thin? So bruised and scarred? What are you doing to people in here?”
Kino rises from her seat, ignoring my questions. “You have an hour with your mother, Xoey. Do not waste it.”
We sit across from each other, holding hands on top of the table. Every few minutes, Mom lets go to touch my hair, my face. Our faces stay wet with tears. We spend some time just looking at each other, but most of the time, we talk.
I cannot trust Kino—whether there are hidden cameras in this room or not, it is surely bugged, so I do not tell Mom everything. Some things I do not need to tell her. Apparently, she has been given one special privilege since being transferred to this prison: She gets to watch any media that has to do with me or my father, including every episode of Life with Sean.
The idea of her watching the way I have changed fills me with shame. She cannot approve of the clothes I have worn, the places I have been, or the ways I have spoken to my father. And she doesn’t even know about the lies I have told—the ones that brought me here. What would she say if she did?
I expect her to admonish me about something—anything. She doesn’t.
“You have so much talent,” she says after telling me about the first time she saw the video of me singing. “Tell me all about it.”
So I tell her about singing for the president, then about recording new songs and the upcoming performance Sunday evening at the Recording Guild’s Music Award show, which airs live Sand to Sand.
She squeezes my hands. “And are you…happy?”
“No, Mom. I’m not happy. How could I be with you in here?” Tears fall again. “I’m so angry all the time. Lately, I feel like anger is winning. That it will always win until places like this are turned to rubble, until hateful people like Kino are punished for the evil they do.”
My mom gets out of her chair and comes around to put her hands on my shoulders. “Love wins, Xoey, not anger. Because it’s the only thing that destroys anger and hate.”
“I don’t know how to see that, Mom. Or how to practice it.”
She kisses my head. “Read your Bible, Xoey, and never stop praying. That’s the only way peace will come live inside you. The world will always bring trouble, but that doesn’t matter. Jesus overcame the world.”
Kino and the guard come back too quickly. I cry when I hug Mom goodbye.
“I don’t know if they’ll let you visit me again,” she whispers quickly. “But even if they don’t, I am with you, Xoey. I love you with everything I am, and I believe in you. You will be okay as long as you remember who you are.”
My tears are all spent as the guard binds her and leads her back down the hall. Being with Mom made me resolve to imitate her good behavior. But the moment she’s out of sight, my anger returns. I turn on Kino.
“Are those shackles necessary? She’s a peaceful woman. You are hurting her for no purpose.”
“There is great purpose in pain, Xoey. The sooner you learn that, the sooner you can adapt to the world we live in, maybe make it work for you. You’ve made great progress since returning to the Sand. Now is not the time to let sentimentality destroy it.”
The stark contrast between my mom telling me to be true to myself and Kino admiring how much I have changed makes me sick to my stomach. I step back and look at her. Cheeks flushed, eyes dancing. Her hunger for suffering isn’t yet satisfied today.
My heart pounds. I know what’s coming next.
“You didn’t bring me here to see my mom, did you?”
For a split second, anger clouds her eyes. She quickly covers it with a pretty pout. “You’ve spoiled my surprise, Xoey. Bad form.”
I follow her back down the hall, my head on a constant swivel from left to right. A door unlocks in front of us and we pass through, back into the viewing corridor that looks out over the courtyard.
Only this time, it’s not empty.
Oliver.
I rush forward, pressing my hands against the glass. I am not surprised. This is what I expected—what I both feared and hoped. And yet nothing could prepare me for the way he has changed. My mom was thin, worn down by her time in prison, but he is thinner than any man should be. With bowed shoulders and skeletal hands that tremble as he passes them over his shaved head, he shuffles across the narrow strip of grass in a uniform that hangs on his narrow frame like clothes on a hanger.
Bile rises in the back of my throat. Oliver turns around.
When he does, time stops. I know nothing outside the look on his face, which surely mirrors mine. He is not surprised to see me either. But seeing me tears him apart.
46
Reed
“So much can go wrong.”
Riley’s voice traveled through the dark last night, floating above my makeshift bed on the floor like a thought bubble. We had talked ourselves hoarse—arguing about her insane decision to go out to the amusement park alone, then planning every possible scenario of Lexie’s rescue. When we finally settled down to sleep, we didn’t settle down at all.
“We talked about contingencies,” I said.
“What about the ones we can’t anticipate.”
“But—”
“I’m thinking about the Liberty Bell heist. How Paisley and Oliver got left behind. How Adam got shot.”
“Well…don’t.”
“That’s it? Just…don’t?” She sighed and got out of bed, almost stepping on me as she stomped across the room to flip on the light. I covered my eyes with my hand, squinting while she paced the floor. Finally, I stood up.
“Riley, you’re scared.” I stifled a yawn. “I understand. But we have to just act on our best plan, don’t you think?”
Riley put her hand on her hip. “I’m scared. But you’re not?”
“Not enough to keep me from sleeping.”
“Why do you have to be so cocky? Sometimes I just want to—”
I moved closer and took her hands. “I know your first instinct is to choke me—”
“Reed!”
“…Slug me, or maybe step on me…”
Riley snorted.
“Or at least call me names—”
“That’s because you’re such a—”
I pulled her toward me until I could feel her heart beating against mine.
“Tonight, can you just…not?”
Then I kissed her.
Tonight, as I clear table after table, I keep smiling, remembering that kiss. I would swear that for the first time, Riley’s eyes were not clouded by doubt. She might forgive me yet, I think.
But first, I need to rescue her sister.
I talked to Gabriel right after my shift began. He agreed to have Lexie hide behind the stage curtain again at closing so I can tell her our plan. The rest of the evening drags. Ogas comes in about halfway through the night, smiling about something. He takes his typical table in the corner and watches the Thorns, all while twisting the ends of his mustache like a cartoon villain. I don’t see Lexie enter the salon, but at some point, she appears at his side, laughing at whatever he says and stroking his hair. As usual, I look away in case disgust is written across my face.
When closing time finally comes, I head toward the front with my bin and get to work clearing tables. I’m making my way toward the stage and just about to say something under my breath to see if Lexie is behind the curtain, when I hear her make an indist
inct noise behind me.
Behind me?
I spin around. Lexie is standing in the middle of the salon, her eyes as wide as saucers. All the other bussers are mysteriously gone, but Lexie and I are not alone. Mr. Bell is standing by the kitchen door with a strong grip on Gabriel, who’s bleeding from his nose. Mr. Longino is there too, his arms folded over his chest. My heart begins to pound.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“You tell me,” Mr. Bell says. “I heard a rumor about a plot to kidnap one of my girls. Specifically, Alessandra.”
“I don’t—”
“I didn’t want to believe it,” Mr. Longino says. “Not of you, Clyde.”
“His name is not Clyde.” I recognize Ogas’s voice even before he steps out of the shadows. “His name is Reed Paine.”
I finally put down my rag. For a few seconds, Ogas and I just stare at each other. Then my eyes shift between Lexie and Gabriel.
“They don’t really need to be part of this conversation, do they?” I ask.
“For the moment, I agree with you.” Ogas turns to Mr. Bell. “Can you keep them entertained elsewhere while I conduct some business with Mr. Paine?”
Lexie’s eyes stay locked with mine until they are both led out of the room. It will be alright, I want to tell her, but I’m not sure it will. Ogas snaps his fingers and two soldiers appear to force me into a chair across from him.
“So you recognize me?” I ask. “From wanted posts, or—”
“You didn’t really think your aliases worked, did you?” Ogas asks. “I mean, the tech used to camouflage your images on our database is impressive, I’ll grant you, but you should not have underestimated the value of human investigation, Mr. Paine.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. But if that’s all you have to say, I have tables to clean.”
Ogas smiles. “Cocky, even now. One of your traits I admire most.”
“And how long have you been…admiring me?”
“Since you stole the Liberty Bell. What a feat! Especially since you have no training, no special skillset. Your parents were average, only stumbling into their rebellion because of the careless words spread by your grandmother. But you. You’re something of a mastermind, aren’t you?”
Weeping Justice Page 32
