by B L Teschner
I came up to the side of the table and cleared my throat. “Um, hey,” I said, my deep voice lower than I had ever heard it. The girl looked up at me, her green eyes just as beautiful as I had remembered them from earlier in the day. “Mind if I sit down?” I asked before anyone could reply.
The girl smiled. “Sure.” She grabbed her tray and scooted down the bench, allowing me to take her spot.
“Thanks.” I sat down, and we glanced over at each other at the same time, nervous smiles lifting our lips.
“Well aren’t you a looker,” the girl across from me said. She extended her hand. “I’m Layla. I’m here for sleeping around.”
“Uh…” I responded with a nervous laugh, not knowing how to react as I shook her hand. “I’m Toby. I’m here for smoking weed.”
The guy beside her laughed as I let her hand go. “I’m Dwayne, and gambling is my ‘sin’.” He said the last word while holding up his plumpish fingers, making air quotes.
I focused back over at the girl beside me. “Yeah, the whole ‘sinner’ thing is pretty weird, isn’t it?”
She nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it definitely is.” Her hand came up to tuck her long hair behind one ear. “I’m Millie, by the way.”
Her hand moved down between us and I slid mine into it. “Toby. Toby Red.”
“Red?” she asked with a smile as our hands released. “That’s a cool last name. Mine’s Charles.”
“Never trust a man with two first names,” Dwayne said. “Or, you know, a woman.”
“Yeah,” Layla added playfully. “Miss Millie over there steals.”
“Really?” I asked, intrigued by her so-called sin. My eyes perused over her face. “I wouldn’t peg you as the type.”
She nodded, her skin slowly changing to a pinker hue. “Yeah, I’m not, really.”
“Then why do it?”
Her shoulders shrugged as she looked down at her lap. “I’m a straight-A student; always have been. My entire school career has been spent studying. I never did anything dangerous; I was never disobedient to my mom…” Her shoulders lifted again and fell as she sighed. “I don’t know, I just wanted some excitement I guess. That’s all.”
“You want some excitement?” Layla interrupted. “Try making out on the principal’s desk.”
Millie looked up at me and smiled before glancing over at her friend. “That’s a little too much excitement for me I think.”
Dwayne leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table and clasping his hands together in front of his chin. “You should try gambling. Now that will get your blood flowing.”
“Yeah, until your dad catches you and sends you here,” Layla said with a roll of her makeup-covered eyes. As a guy I didn’t know too much about makeup, but I knew she was wearing a lot of it.
“The problem is getting caught,” Dwayne said. “Apparently we’re all too dumb to keep our sins a secret.”
“Will you stop calling them that?” Layla huffed. “It’s like you’re playing into their little scam here.”
Dwayne dropped his hands from in front of him and picked up his fork. “Well what do you want me to call them, huh? That’s what they are calling them.”
“And we’re not them.” She glared over at him. “Are we?”
His shoulders shrugged as he took a bite of food, his lips curled up at their corners, seemingly satisfied that he was getting Layla riled up. “Then just tell me what you want me to refer to them as, my queen.”
She offered him a deadpan look that he didn’t even try to look at. “Anything other than that word.”
Millie leaned forward. “Why are you so against using that word?” she asked her.
Layla looked over at her. “Because that’s what they want us to think we are: sinners. Sex is not a sin.”
“Depends on who you ask,” Dwayne put in between chews. “Just like I don’t think gambling is. But depending on who you ask, it is.”
“I know stealing is a sin,” Millie offered. “There’s no doubt about that.”
“Is it, though?” I asked.
Her forehead creased. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Well, let’s say there was a homeless mother who had children who were starving. What if she stole food so her kids could eat? Is that a sin?”
Her face softened. “Yeah, I haven’t thought of that. But that’s not my situation.”
“Offense,” Layla shouted, as if she had just figured out the right word she was looking for. “Or violation. Either of those sound way better than sin.”
Dwayne laughed through his nose. “Those still sound bad.”
“Well I don’t have any other ideas, do you?”
“Not really,” he shrugged. “We need a dictionary.”
“Well if I had my phone I would look some up.”
“Yeah, isn’t that weird?” I said as I took a fork from a tin cup in the middle of the table, finally comfortable enough to try my food. “I mean, they take our phones away, and we’re not allowed to talk to our parents unless there’s an emergency, and we can’t even write them letters.”
“We can’t?” Millie asked.
“Nope.”
“Yeah I heard the same,” Layla said. “Seems a little odd to me.”
“Did you guys meet the head of the program yet?” Dwayne asked. “Man, there’s just something about that lady that freaks me out.”
“I haven’t seen her yet,” Layla said. “What’s so freaky about her?”
“Everything,” I added. “I know what you mean, Dwayne. There’s something off about her that I just can’t put my finger on.”
“I’m sure we’ll find out,” Millie said beside me. “I’m sure all of us will.” She looked around the room. “There’s one hundred patients here I heard; fifty boys and fifty girls. I wonder what some of their offenses are.” She looked over at me. “Do you think some are dangerous?”
“I’m sure of it,” I said before taking another bite.
She visibly shuddered. “That’s so scary. I mean, we have to sleep in the same room with these people.”
“Hey, what room are you in?” Layla asked her.
“Um, I think it was 1B.”
“Crap, I’m in 2B.” Her eyes wandered around the room. “Maybe I can convince someone to swap with me so I can be with you.”
Millie’s cheeks lifted with a beautiful smile. “That would be nice. But I don’t want you to get in any trouble.”
“Don’t worry, I’m used to getting into trouble.”
“But this is a different place from high school,” Dwayne told her. “I’d be a little more careful here if I were you.”
“Don’t worry,” she said, looking over and offering me a seductive wink. “I’m a big girl; I know how to handle myself.”
My eyes quickly cut over to Dwayne. “What room are you in?” I asked him, trying to avoid Layla’s clear flirtation with me.
“I’m in 2A. You?”
“Same.”
“Oh cool, I didn’t see you in there earlier.”
“Yeah I haven’t been in there much; I’ve been exploring the grounds.”
“The rooms we sleep in remind me of an old military war hospital,” Millie said. “The beds have iron headboards that look like they were made at the beginning of time.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” I agreed with a half-laugh. “I remember watching a movie in history class one time where all the wounded soldiers from war were all laid up in the same room with beds like that. Kinda creepy. My mom didn’t think anything about them when she saw them. She thought they added to the vintage charm of the place…”
Once again, Millie was surveying the room. Her eyes stopped on something and her focus intensified. “Hey, look at that kid over there.” Her head nodded in Layla and Dwayne’s direction and they cranked their necks behind them. I looked too, to see a boy all alone at a table with his face in his hands.
“That red-headed kid?” Layla asked.
“Yeah. Is he cryi
ng?”
We all waited for him to move his hands away from his face. When he did, it was obvious that he was.
“He must be one of the younger ones,” I said. “He’s gotta be thirteen.”
Without a word, Millie stood up and walked across the cafeteria to the table in the corner where the boy was sitting. We all watched as she said a few words to him. After a nod, he got up with his tray of food and followed her back to our table.
“This is Connor,” Millie told us as she took her seat beside me again. Connor sat next to Dwayne.
“Where you from?” Layla asked him, leaning forward and looking down the table to see him.
“Michigan.” His voice was small; I could barely hear it over the loudness of the room.
Dwayne eyed him from the side. “You look harmless. What could you possibly be in here for?”
He shifted nervously and stared down at his tray. “Starting fires.”
“Oh that’s so cute,” Layla gushed. “Our own little red-haired, freckle-faced, pyromaniac.”
“I’m not a pyromaniac,” he corrected her quietly.
Millie leaned across the table. “What made your parents finally enroll you in the program?”
His head stayed down. “I burned down my treehouse.”
Dwayne laughed. “Man, why did you do that?”
His shoulders shrugged.
“Hey, let’s just talk about something else,” I said. “Do you know what room you’re in?”
“I think it’s 2A.”
“That’s the same as us. Maybe we can move around to where we can all get beds together. Does that sound good?”
He finally looked up, his eyes still slightly red from crying. “Okay.”
“Good,” I smiled. My heart went out for the kid. He was on the short side and had a small frame for his age, which wasn’t a bad thing in itself. He just seemed scared and completely out of his comfort zone, which made him an easy target for other jerks in the program to pick on. A large part of me felt the responsibility to watch over him. Millie must have felt the same way, which was why she went and got him.
The cafeteria quieted, and we all watched as Martha entered the room and walked to the front. With every step her heels clicked and echoed off the tiled floors the same way my mom’s did. In any other situation it would have made me miss my mom, but since she deserted me here, it made me angry. I would never understand how she, and my dad for that matter, could so easily abandon me in a place like this, especially with a woman like Martha. They were blind to her oddness, ignorant to the peculiarity of their no contact rules. Even kids who go to camp for just a week get to write letters to their parents. Not us sinners.
With her fake smile covered in that gross shade of lipstick, Martha greeted the crowd. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to the Mendukiah Center for Healing. My name is Martha Bane, and I am the head of The Sinner Program. I am very excited to help you along during your two-week stay here with us.” She clasped her hands together in front of her. “From the members of the staff to the members of security, everyone you meet who works here is a part of my family. And I mean that quite literally.” As if on cue, a string of people came through the cafeteria doors and lined up beside her. “This, as you have already met, is my niece, Jan. She is the head secretary here.” She moved along to two large men who looked almost identical to each other. “These are my nephews, Troy and Steven. They are the security guards for the grounds. They make sure we’re kept safe here and they also handle any skirmishes that may happen between patients.” She stopped and pointed a finger out at no one in particular. “Let’s hope not many of those happen.” With another fake smile, she moved down the line. “This is my daughter Sarah and my son Dominic. They are our counselors. Sarah is assigned to the girls and Dominic is assigned to the boys. Every day you will be required to attend a one-hour counseling session. You will be grouped together according to what your sin is.” The next person in line looked a little like her but was younger. “This is our cook, my sister, Sylvia. What she does with food is incredible!” She quickly moved down to the last person in the line, a man wearing a white lab coat who had thinning white hair and glasses. “This is my brother,” Martha went on, “Doctor Gordon Sigtile. He’s here to address any problems you may have during your stay, be it a little cold to a broken arm. You never know when medical attention may be needed when a bunch of teenagers bunk together.” She nodded to the line. “You may go.” We all stayed quiet as the group listened to the command and left the room. Martha strolled back and forth, her heels clicking against the floor as she placed her hands behind her back, puffing out her chest. “The Sinner Program is a program for youth ages thirteen through seventeen who in their parent’s eyes need to be disciplined back into respectable young adults. This is a two-week intensive therapy program. We truly believe with the right amount of care and direction, we can turn around your behavior and send you back to your parents with new attitudes toward life and a new resolve to stay on a straight and respectable path. If you haven’t already heard, our program has a one-hundred percent success rate.”
Millie and Layla looked at each other and rolled their eyes, and it looked like Layla mouthed the word “condom”, but I figured I’d just read her lips wrong.
Our heads snapped back to Martha as her hands clapped loudly in front of her. “Now, there are a few rules that must be obeyed. Since you’re all eating right now, I’ll start with the food. We pride ourselves with being able to offer to you the many wonderful courses that are prepared lovingly by our cook. You are expected to eat at every meal, and to not overindulge. We ask that you stick to one serving per patient.” Her hands lowered in front of her but stayed clasped together. “One very important lesson you will learn here is moderation; you will learn to practice it. And onto the next rule: You are to wake every morning at seven and be in the cafeteria by eight for breakfast; you must take advantage of the showers that are located in the bathrooms of each room. After that you will continue to your group counseling sessions; you will find the schedules for that on the door to your bunk rooms by tomorrow morning. Since we only have two counselors, you will each be assigned to different blocks of time: nine, ten, and eleven o’clock for the morning session, and one and two o’clock for the afternoon session. While you are waiting your turn, please take advantage of the swimming pool, tennis courts, gymnasium, and other numerous activities that we offer here. You can sit on the lawn under the trees; you can play board games… The list goes on and on.” She smiled once again. “Lunch is at noon, and during the second half of the day after the afternoon sessions have adjourned, you may be chosen to partake in individual counseling sessions. But if not, you are also allowed free time. Dinner is at seven, after which you will go back to your rooms where lights will turn off promptly at nine. Any questions?” The room was silent, which made her smile. “Very well. Now, this is the first floor, obviously. Also on this floor, if you don’t already know, is the gymnasium, my office, and the two counseling rooms you will have your sessions in. There is also a room that the guards rotate staying in to keep an eye on things. If you need anything during the night, don’t hesitate to knock. It says Security on the door. On the second floor there are your bunk rooms, the club room, Jan’s office, and the medical room if you feel sick or need a bandage for something. The staff also sleeps on that floor in their own rooms; please do not disturb them.” She took a moment to gather her thoughts. “This is a large building and we don’t fill it like it used to be filled. The third floor is mostly for storage and is considered off limits. Please don’t fool around up there.” She looked around at us with an odd sense of pride. “Now, off to bed with you all. You have a very exciting day ahead of you tomorrow.”
* * *
I said goodnight to Millie, excited to try and see her at breakfast in the morning. It looked like we had found our group of friends we would spend the next two weeks with, and I liked them, especially Dwayne. He seemed honest and down
to earth. I liked Connor, too. Back in our dorm, we traded places with a couple of kids so the three of us could be together. Dwayne and I let Connor have the bed between us so he knew someone on each side of him. It seemed to help.
There were twenty-five kids in each room, so twenty-five metal-framed beds with their antique headboards lined around the room, twelve sticking out from one side of the wall and thirteen on the opposite. The blankets were light-blue and good quality; the sheets were soft. But sliding into bed was a different story. I noticed right away that the mattress was uncomfortable; I could feel every spring poking into my back, almost as if they kept the original mattress that was made “at the beginning of time”, as Millie had earlier said. From outside appearances the beds were high-quality with that vintage charm my mom loved and appreciated so much. But on the inside, it was a hidden nightmare, especially for my back.
I turned over beneath my blankets and met eyes with Connor, who was facing me with his blue blanket pulled right up to the matching color of his eyes. “You okay?” I asked.
He said nothing, but his head carefully moved with a nod.
His freckled face was gone in an instant when the overhead antique chandelier lights went out. The voices of the kids in the room quieted, some cursed. It took a few minutes for the light from the moon to filter in through the small curtain-less windows but once it did, my eyes adjusted to see Connor still facing me. I picked up on the faint sound of crying.
“It’ll be alright,” Dwayne said to him as he stared up at the ceiling with his hands behind his head. “Anybody can survive two weeks of anything.”
“I want my mom,” Connor sniffed.
Dwayne scoffed. “Man, your mom sent you here…”
“No she didn’t,” he said quietly. “My dad and stepmom did. My real mom’s dead. She wouldn’t have sent me here.”
