Reed and Eddie always found me. No matter what tree I chose, they would come wandering over, then proceed to pick the waiting apples and joke the entire day. I found myself looking forward to their company. They made me feel special. They made me feel welcome. Even though Eddie’s constant jabber and joke cracking could get old by the end of the day, I always found myself smiling when he winked or cracked his big toothy smile.
Then there was Reed. After the night where I had pushed him away, he had made sure to keep a slight distance between us, physically. Regardless of the forced physical distance, Reed still found a way to stay close to me during the day hours. His arm would almost graze my arm, his fingers almost meet mine when handing me my basket. It would never get further than almost. He seemed magnetized to me, always finding me, and never leaving until it was time for bed.
Back in Spokane, I would have been scared. Worried that he had a hidden agenda or plan behind his soft smile. Spokane wasn’t completely full of horrible people. There were those who were gently doing their time and genuinely decent. That didn’t matter much. The majority were out for themselves and nothing else. And those who were assigned to safe-guard us only yawned and ignored.
Or became Carl.
The thought of Carl would send my skin prickling and I would always find myself looking over my shoulder. It was pointless, I knew that. Carl was in Spokane, patrolling the walk. The walk my parents and Orrin lived on. The walk that Jude once patrolled. I was far away from Carl and his smirk and iron grip, even if they were not. Realizing that even a guard, a protector from the Nation, could send this fear down my spine, reminded me that anyone could hide their true intentions. Or desires.
When I thought of Reed, when I saw his face in my mind, I somehow knew that couldn’t be true for him.
Those feelings were what scared me the most.
People don’t stay. That was one thing I had for sure learned in my life. Everything was temporary, and you had to always be prepared for the change. I always knew that I would leave behind everything I had ever known. The people in the cells were constantly changing, the children coming and going. My parents were lies and Orrin a distant phantom in the night. And someday, I would leave them behind.
During those two weeks at the Orchard, I realized that the prison wasn’t the only place people disappeared. The happy, familiar faces I would see throughout the day in the trees kept changing. Occasionally one would go missing, and would never reappear.
The happy red head, her hair always in two thick braids and whose voice carried too loud into the Orchard paths.
The short, squat Hispanic man who had to hold baskets on the ground for other pickers because he was too short to reach into the branches, even with a ladder.
The quiet brunette who would hide away in the taller trees to read her books.
They disappeared. Just… gone. And no one ever mentioned them again.
I found I had grown dreadfully terrified that one morning I would show up to work and smiling Eddie would never show. That I would wait by the tree to start the day and would never see Reed’s easy walk towards me, his face already smiling before our eyes met.
My heart would almost go dead in my chest at thought of Reed disappearing.
I forced a painful distance between us. Though I still laughed and talked during work, as soon as dinner came I would quickly eat then excuse myself to bed. I had already started to become too attached. Too close. I had become too happy.
| | |
I sat on the thick branch, my legs wrapped tightly around it as I reached for an apple. I had become more daring, leaving behind the stepladder and venturing higher into the tree every day. I wasn’t nearly as nimble in the branches as Reed. I was content with sitting on the thicker branches instead of teetering in the sun near the top. Every day I ventured one limb higher, one foot further from the ground. My breath always caught in my throat. My hands trembled and my heart pounded. Then I would calm and look around, viewing the world around me each day as if it were the first time I had ever seen it. The freedom of climbing was amazing, always facing the risk of falling frighteningly exhilarating.
I let out a sigh and leaned back against the trunk of the tree. I could hear Eddie lumbering around in the lower branches. He was like a bulldozer in the tree, always snapping branches and knocking down loose apples. I shook my head, lightly laughing, and reached for another apple. Something rustled above me. Looking up, I could barely see Reed leaning back against the trunk.
“Millie, can I ask you something?” he asked, his voice drifting softly through the leaves.
My stomach knotted, but I quickly sucked in a deep breath, forcing away the strange feeling. “Yeah, sure.”
“Who hurt you?”
My mind seemed to run into a solid wall, shattering into a million pieces in an instant. His question was completely not what I had expected. I had thought he would ask why I kept him at a distance. Why I disappeared every night as soon as I could. Instead, he dove straight in and found the hidden question that I thought I had safe guarded against.
“What…” My tongue had gone thick, unable to form any words.
“You are always looking over your shoulder. Always… keeping your distance.”
I didn’t say anything. I just stared at the bottom of his foot, barely visible in the thick branches.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice obviously mad at himself. “That was way too personal. Forget it.”
“No, no it’s okay.” I took in a deep breath, feeling a lump form in my throat. “It was a guard.” I could hear the sharp intake of Reed’s breath, sucking in through his clenched teeth. “Reed, it wasn’t like that. He just… he wanted me to stay there. I guess he had come to like me, in some way. One day he decided to tell me with a little more force than needed.” My voice trailed off. I clenched my eyes a moment, my nails digging into the bark as I tried to force away the memory.
It shouldn’t have bothered me that much. It had shaken me, yes, but the fact that it haunted me every time I was near another man, especially Reed, drove deep into my core.
I was happy that I couldn’t see Reed. I didn’t want to have to look into his eyes and see his sorrow for what I had gone through. It would only have made it worse. I could hear him breathing above me. Looking up, I could only see his feet, frozen mid swing, his hands gripping the branch he sat on. His knuckles were white.
“A guard,” he said, his voice carefully low. “A guard should never do that. Even if it wasn’t… wasn’t…” He sighed. “They are supposed to protect us.” He spat out the last words, the anger almost tangible in the air.
The branches above me rustled. Reed dropped down in front of me, grabbing onto the branch and righting his body in one quick swing. He sat a foot away, staring into my eyes.
“Millie, I will never hurt you. Never.” He stared into my eyes, his own swimming with emotions I couldn’t even fathom. “I promise.”
I found myself staring back, never wanting to look away. “I believe you.”
Time could have frozen there and I would have been content. Even perched high up in the tree, teetering slightly every time a breeze blew past, I had never felt safer in my life.
All of my resolve to stay distant, to safe-guard against this potential threat, dwindled as I looked back into Reed’s eyes. I tried to grasp it. I tried to make it stay. Everyone had a potential of being bad, of betraying, of hurting. I couldn’t risk letting Reed do that to me. But I couldn’t fight this pull. Inside I twisted in confusion as I finally loosened on the self-imposed distance I had been holding so tight. Reed parted his lips to say something.
“Hey, you two!” I jumped, looking down wide-eyed at Eddie who stood on the ground now, gazing up into the branches. “I am way done with apple plucking for the day. How’s about we get into town?”
I looked back at Reed. His lips were still parted, his eyes watching me as if he still wanted to say more. Then he glanced down to Eddie and nodded. “Yeah, com
ing down.”
Reed swung down, landing on his feet neatly. I carefully climbed down after him, not daring to jump until I had reached the last branch. As I landed on the ground, I saw Reed holding a hand out, ready to catch me if I fell. I straightened myself, watching him tuck his hand self-consciously into his jeans pocket.
We started to walk back, our baskets held tightly in our arms. Reaching the end of the Orchard, we set the baskets down carefully, then made our way down the dirt path toward the cluster of buildings.
“Been in town yet, Millie?” Eddie asked, waving at a group of girls as we passed. The girls watched him a moment, then huddled in a circle and started to whisper to each other. I saw one girl glance back up, giggling and watching Eddie as we walked away.
“Um, no. I didn’t know we could go.”
Eddie laughed, smacking me lightly on the back. “Millie, you’re not in prison anymore, remember? You can go to the town if you wanna go to the town.”
I could see Reed watching Eddie, his lips suddenly tight. Whatever thought had taken hold of him passed and he let out a sigh. “Eddie, Millie is on her month long parole. She needs to check out.”
“I need to what?” I was suddenly aware of how little I had found out about my parole rules. I should have known more, should have asked for more details on the rules.
“Don’t worry, Millie,” Reed said, moving to walk closer to me. “You just have to sign out. I’ll show you where.”
Eddie clapped his hands together. “Alright! You two get Mills permission to hit the town, and I will snag the outing goodies. Meet you by the gate.” With that, Eddie bounded off, disappearing into a nearby house.
Reed just shook his head, a small laugh escaping his lips. “Eddie. What would we do without Eddie?” I felt myself laughing with him. We walked along the path, barely noticing that our shoulders were brushing as we laughed.
The large house rose ahead of us. I had yet to step foot inside of it. In fact, since I had arrived two weeks ago, I hadn’t even walked near this large white house with perfect windows. I stared at it as we approached. It seemed almost too clean and perfect to be surrounded by the smaller, more run-down living quarters.
Reed walked up to a side door, not even pausing as he pulled it open and walked inside. I stayed close behind. The entryway was well lit, the walls just as white inside as they were outside. He turned down a hallway to the left and walked through another doorway, the white door propped open.
Inside the small room stood a desk, its surface covered in papers, plastic wrappers, and other loose ends. Every inch of the wall was covered in framed photographs. I slowed, taking in the images. Most were of the Orchard over the years, the first few so old that the black and white had faded to almost nothing. By the time I reached the end of the wall, I noticed that most of the images had Oscar standing off to one side, his hands nervously tucked at his side.
Noticing my eyes glued to the photographs, Reed stepped closer. Our shoulders barely brushed. Lifting a finger, he pointed at Oscar. “That’s Oscar Ramos.”
“I know,” I said. “He was on my parole board.”
Reed looked at me a moment, then nodded. “Makes sense. I have heard of them doing that before.”
“So, who is Oscar?” I asked.
“He runs this farm. Not the owner mind you, but has been hired to make sure it keeps going.” Reed looked at Oscar in one of the photos, then turned to me and smiled. “He’s a good guy. Probably scared the crap out of him to have to sit in that prison.”
Reed caught himself, his face suddenly full of apology. I hadn’t even realized what he said until he looked at me with his eyes wide. “It’s fine,” I said softly. “I can’t blame him. For being scared.”
He started to walk toward a back room I hadn’t noticed before. I followed him, glancing once more at the photograph of Oscar before turning away. Reed spoke to me over his shoulder. “Oscar is a Transplant. So his English is a bit rough. And he prefers to still speak in his foreign tongue, which is cool and all, unless you have no idea what he is saying.”
Pausing, Reed turned to me, his face slightly embarrassed. “Transplant. I bet you have no idea what Transplant is.”
“No, it’s alright,” I interrupted, watching his face lighten a bit at my intrusion to his apology. “Maria told me about them. She’s one too.”
Reed smiled. “Maria.” The way he said her name, his lips curled still into that smile, suddenly made my face heat. Reed looked at me a moment, the smile softening. “Maria is a good person. Did you know she has a husband?”
“She does?” I asked. Reed nodded. “Where is he? In Mexico still?”
His lips clenched tight for a moment before he turned and continued to the back room again, shaking his head. “He’s in prison.”
I hurried after him, wanting suddenly to hold his arm, to reassure him that Maria’s husband was alright. That he was safe. I couldn’t get myself to actually lift my hand to comfort him. I couldn’t form the words. A few weeks ago I would have said them without pause. Now, I found myself newly wondering how true they would be once they passed my lips.
Reed rapped his knuckles on the open door’s frame.
“Hey Lou,” Reed said casually.
The man, Lou, nodded at Reed. “What can I do you for, Reed? Haven’t had to see you in here for some time now.”
“Yeah, I know.” Reed motioned to me. Taking his cue, I walked forward and stood in front of Lou. “This is Millie. She was released two weeks ago. Eddie and I were hoping to take her into town today. Can you sign her out?”
Lou spun in his chair and opened a cabinet behind him. I watched as he flipped through some folders before finally finding the one he wanted. As he flopped it open, I saw my black and white photo plastered onto the first page. Did everyone have a file on me?
Lou read through a few pages, glancing at me occasionally, then leaned back and nodded. “Good marks. Looks like you passed with flying colors.”
“Uh, yeah,” I answered.
“You just have to sign here.” Lou slid a clipboard to me, a paper stuck on it with columns carefully drawn out. I signed my name where he pointed. Lou turned to Reed. “You’re taking responsibility for her then?” Reed nodded. Lou slid the board to him and Reed signed next to my name. “Got your ID card on you, Millie?”
I reached into my pocket, grabbed the small plastic card and handed it over to Lou. He glanced at it a moment, his eyes quickly flicking up to take in my face once, then handed it back to me.
“One more thing.” Lou stood and reached into a cupboard above his head. I watched as he pulled down the small device that every guard in the prison carried. “New procedures. I guess they want to keep a better watch on their releases.”
Out of reflex, I held out my wrist, twisting my hand so the carved code on my bracelet was easy for him to scan. Reed watched me, his brows knotted together. Lou quickly scanned the bracelet, waited for the device to beep, then nodded again.
“Alright, that’s it. Have fun in town.”
Reed thanked him quickly then motioned for me to head out of the room. He walked close behind me, causing me to hurry as we headed out the door.
“I’m sorry,” he said under his breath.
“For what?” I had no idea what he would need to apologize for.
“I didn’t know they would have to scan you.”
“Reed, really, it’s fine. I have had my wrist scanned pretty much daily for my entire life.”
Reed shook his head, hands shoved into pockets as we made our way to the gate. “No, it’s not fine. You aren’t in there anymore. They shouldn’t make you feel like you are.”
“I don’t –”
“You didn’t see your face, Millie. You looked so… you looked like a prisoner waiting for your rations.”
I didn’t know what to say. Reed seemed genuinely angry. I couldn’t tell if it was more at himself, or at the Prison. Either way, he had clammed up, keeping his mouth shut as he stared into
the distance. I leaned against the post of the gate, watching him.
The sound of Eddie’s heavy footsteps bounding towards us relieved the tension that hung in the air like thick smoke. I smiled at him, welcoming his playful wink. Eddie didn’t seem to notice the mood Reed had fallen into. He playfully slapped his friend on the back, then made his way through the gate.
“Well, come on then!” Eddie said happily. “Let’s get away from this apple picking prison already.”
15
The town was just as I remembered it. People ambled down the walk, couples held hands, children laughed as they skipped and jumped in dizzy circles. Two weeks ago, the drive from the small town to the Orchard had been long and bumpy as I sat next to silent Oscar. Walking with always talking Eddie made time fly. Even with Reed still in his oddly quiet mood, I barely noticed the walk until we arrived at the first building.
We slowed as we passed. I turned to look in the windows, gazing in awe at the clothing that draped across display racks behind the clear glass. It was so colorful. Vibrant. Alive. Though I had on the dark blue shirt that had been given to me in my release box, I still wore the white t-shirt much too often for my liking. Peeking through the shop’s shining window, I couldn’t see a white shirt anywhere.
I reluctantly kept walking, my eyes still trailing the shop window. In the reflection I caught Reed watching me, a soft smile spreading on his face. I warmed inside. It was good to see that smile again. As his smile grew, I could see the humor that tinged his lips, amusement as he watched me, and I felt my cheeks flush with heat.
Eddie took his place walking in front of us, hands tucked loosely in his pockets of his jacket, back straight as he coolly glanced around. I realized for the first time that he had grabbed a backpack, which now hung from one shoulder, swinging back and forth as he ambled down the sidewalk.
We passed other shops, some showing food, some posters for travel or houses for sale. I couldn’t get enough. The sun kissed my face, the stirred dirt of the road tickled my nose. I took in a deep breath, tasting life.
Prison Nation Page 15