Switched and Fears

by Shannon Rieger

  That wasn’t true. I had told him that I remembered a different place than the one with glass walkways and buildings.

  “That’s the day she was arrested—” Mr. Johnson paused. “Yes, of course, you already know that… Well, she was just talking about a different city that she had driven from or come from.” He stood up and walked to the corner. He looked like he was giving himself a timeout. He whispered to X and now I could only catch a few sentences here and there. “Crazy thoughts, if you want to know my truth…of course, you don’t. Yes, Sir.” He wiped his brow.

  I wrung my hands.

  Mr. Johnson continued. “She must have suffered a knock on the head while she was being arrested. Seems to have jumbled her mind up… I have the doctor tending to her as soon as I am done here…”

  Then he turned and looked at me. His eyes widened. “Solitary, Sir? We don’t usually do much with the solitary cell... I know I’m the warden…Yes, we just never use it…”

  Warden Johnson rubbed at his brow.

  I bit my bottom lip.

  “I just feel that we usually have our ways to encourage people to talk.” A long pause led to him whispering again, and turning back into the corner. “Why are you sending Matthew Parr? I have a lot of experience—” Mr. Johnson put his hand through his hair. “No, Sir. I am not arguing. Send Mr. Parr if you think he can be of some help… Yes, Sir, I will answer to him… Yes, the guards will report to him… Which guard do you want in charge? I don’t know him, Sir…Oh, I see. Yes, send him along… Yes, I understand…I am unfamiliar. This is true, Sir.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck and turned to narrow his eyes in confusion at me. Johnson’s face was sweating which made my stomach hurt.

  “Yes, I am unfamiliar with that interrogation method. Yes, I can send Miss Anderson to Dr. Cook when she gets here. She is? She’s already here? I didn’t know that…Okay. Yes. I will send her to see Dr. Cook tonight. Now. Sure, now works. And then to isolation for…how many days?…No, sir… Just making sure I heard that correctly.” He scratched his head. “What will Dr. Cook be doing that our own Dr. McFadden can’t accomplish? Unauthorized? But I am the warden…Yes, no more questions. I understand. Yes, Sir.”

  He pressed the off button of the phone and his face drained of blood.

  He turned to the guards. “Next time he calls, I need to take it in my office. I…” He rubbed at his face. He whispered, “He’s sending Matthew Parr.”

  “Mr. Parr is going to work with you? With this particular inmate?”

  “No, he’s going to run the facility.” Mr. Johnson’s mouth gaped and he sat.

  “You’ve been running Edgefield Correction for years.”

  “Twenty years.” He handed the phone off and stood once more. He wandered the small room for a moment.

  “And now, they are sending Mr. Parr. Why is that?” Atkinson was nervous. That made me nervous.

  “I don’t know.” Mr. Johnson turned to look at me. “Who the hell are you, woman?” He didn’t say it angrily. He said it as if he were afraid. That he knew that if X was coming, that meant something terrible.

  I stared at him. “I’m nobody. They’ve made a mistake.”

  “Hell, don’t tell him that, whatever you do. Okay. X said that he wants her to go see Dr. Bailey Cook. And then she will be going to isolation.”

  “How many days did he say?”

  “Three days,” he muttered, in disbelief.

  “Three days?” The guard stared at me.

  “I’ve got the key in my office.” Warden Johnson met my eyes. “Let’s look at it this way. It’ll force you to rest your brain. If you have a concussion, it certainly won’t hurt you to have quiet and dim light.” As Mr. Johnson walked away, he mumbled to the guard who followed. “He’s bringing in some help. An Officer named Pake. Do you know him?”

  “Nope.”

  “Me neither. Pake is familiar with the interrogation methods that Dr. Bailey Cook and Mr. Parr will be conducting. Mr. Parr will be here in a few days. The prisoner stays in isolation until he comes.”

  “She’s going to stay in isolation for that long?”

  “Yes.” His eyes widened as he made eye contact with me. His eyes closed for a moment as he thought about all he had been told. “Atkinson, get her some food. Peanut butter from the break room. Then take her to go see Dr. Cook. X said that she will be with Dr. Cook for a long time and that I should go home for the evening. Nothing more for me to do here. Until tomorrow. Can you make sure she makes it to isolation?”

  “Of course. What will Dr. Cook be doing, Sir?” he whispered.

  “I’m not authorized to know apparently. She has a series of tests and a process of questions that she will ask. A very specific interrogation method that they use, X said. This information will set the stage for the new recruits.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s move. Food. Dr. Bailey Cook. Go. I will come with the key to the isolation cell.” To another guard, he said, “Check the cell. It’s been a long time since we used it.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Get her some toothpaste and soap,” Johnson said, as he watched me.

  “She will be bored.”

  “I think that’s the point. She should be bored. They said that there’s more to her than I know yet, and that reports are being written to fill me in. I don’t know.” He looked closely at me. “You don’t look dangerous. You look like a nice young lady. You seem quite innocent to me. I don’t get it. But the serial killers of the world don’t look dangerous half the time either!” He belted out a laugh. “Look at John Parker. Now he didn’t look like he could hurt a fly, and look what he did.” I didn’t know who John Parker was. I assumed he was a criminal in this world.

  “Is that what he said? That I was dangerous?”

  “Not in so many words…but…”

  “I’m not dangerous. He has the wrong girl. Perhaps the dangerous one is still lurking out there somewhere.”

  I heard him, quietly, gasp. “Where?”

  I laughed. “I don’t know. I just know that I am not the one they should be worried about. I am just a young girl who is not supposed to be here, of all places.”

  “You like cards?”

  “Who doesn’t?”

  “Make sure you give her a deck of cards in Solitary confinement. You can play Solitaire!” He laughed like a hyena. “Get it?”

  Within the hour, I sat in a leather chair in a large, carpeted room with stark white walls and pictures decorating the otherwise boring decor. A station with monitors lay ahead of me, three chairs tucked underneath. Three of the four walls also had monitors, with switches and dials to raise and lower, who knows what.

  It was warmer in this room. I hadn’t been warm since I was incarcerated. I relished in the fact that the chair was padded.

  A man in a smock approached. His name plate had the name BRADLEY pinned. He took out a syringe from a brown leather-bound roll.

  “Ready, Dr. Cook?”

  “Yes, go ahead. I’m ready.” Dr. Cook walked into sight and held a clipboard. Her long, black wavy hair, red lipstick and porcelain skin made me compare myself to her. I’ve never met any woman who made me feel this way before. I didn’t like how the jealousy dug away at my stomach. My blond hair was not shiny, unless you counted the oil that had accumulated. I glanced at my wrist for my elastic tie, but it was no longer wrapped there. Lost or taken at some point, I would not be able to pull my long hair up out of my face again. I had never put makeup on my lips or eyes, and only ever dappled with mascara on special occasions. This woman made me doubt myself and I didn’t like the feeling.

  Another good-looking, middle aged man with a goatee and grey eyes wore a smock with the name displayed: EVERETT. He rolled an office chair to her, and she proceeded to sit.

  Dr. Cook said, “I will take those now.” She took the sunglasses off my face and gave them to Everett. He slipped them into his smock pocket. He approached. The needle pinche
d and almost immediately, I felt calm and light. Muffled voices in the hall were carried away.

  Dr. Cook began with a soft voice, “I have a series of questions to ask. I will also be asking for responses to a variety of pictures and other stimuli. We will start in 10, 9, 8…”

  I woke in a room with four walls of cracked cement, no windows, very dim light and one large metal door with a slot for a tray to slide through. Footsteps echoed in the corridor and whispers faded. Door buzzers to indicate a guard approached and food slid through the slot to me. Peanut butter sandwiches, a piece of fruit and milk was the only meal option. One day they brought me coffee. I didn’t like coffee because it reminded me of my arrest. It reminded me of the young boy, Colton.

  Too many times to count, a loudspeaker called for Mr. Johnson to the telephone. A jingle of chains and the methodical sound of footsteps pacing the length of the cell broke up the silence. The bed was uncomfortable, the mattress thin, and the pillow flat but I slept a lot of the hours away. A set of blue eyes peered through the slot and passed a deck of cards with my food.

  Between my sweat, the toilet that didn’t flush well and dust, the stench grew over the hours. A stainless-steel sink dripped. Eventually, hours in, a toothbrush, toothpaste and a small bar of soap were supplied. New sets of clothes were provided daily which included beige scrubs. They were comfortable but not quite warm enough.

  A shout from down the hall startled me. A woman screamed and pleaded. Her voice resonated against the walls, the gruesome shrill cries sent my mind spinning with thoughts of what they were doing to her…and more importantly, what they were planning to do with me.

  I peered through the crack in the door to see a muscular guard in a dark uniform. Standing 6' 2" tall, his dark skin glistened as sweat beaded on his arms. I was freezing and this guy was sweating! Despite him being a guard, he had an out-of-place feel about him. He charged down the hall to the cell that stood wide open.

  “Please, Officer Pake, I’m sorry!” she screamed.

  I held my breath as her shrieks were carried away, the distance growing between us, but the pain and suffering did not cease.

  My eyes burned as the tears stung. I held them back. Silence commenced after one last whine and a steel door slammed closed.

  Time edged slowly in this place. The pattern of screams and then silence brought an eerie atmosphere. My body ached from the lack of movement.

  The lights flickered and began to buzz. Scratching from within the walls drew my attention.

  I didn’t see Warden Johnson again and new dark uniforms were instated for the guards when Mr. Parr took over.

  Chapter Four

  A white spider crawled along a crevice near the corner of the interrogation room. The cracks in the cement floor stretched to match the design of webs and water seeped to the surface. This reminded me of the dew clinging to a spiderweb on the spokes of my antique wagon wheel. The wheel was a backdrop in my country style garden back home. I thought about the daffodils and crocus. The lilacs, tulips and hyacinth. I would miss these early spring blooms this year.

  I daydreamed that I was digging in my garden, a spider erupting out of the soil or the earthworm squiggling back into the ground. Spiders never bothered me as much as the large amber-coloured June Bugs which emerged during this time of year. Bumping into porch lights and sticking to my gazebo mesh curtains or hitching a ride on my clothes like little ninjas.

  I imagined that I gardened, squeezing the roots of a newly removed tomato plant from the pot and placing it into a freshly dug hole made with my trowel. I thought about wiping my hands on my jeans and accidentally spreading dirt on my cheek as I itched from a mosquito bite. These are vivid memories that exist.

  The room’s chill pressed against my skin as if it were alive. It reached its invisible fingers around my bare legs and arms sending prickling goosebumps across my body.

  The chair was as rough as a pine cone and it chaffed against my legs. The cuffs were not only tight, but also on a short chain with no slack, attached to a large metal ring which was securely bolted to the middle of the table. The manacles scraped and chafed. I had long ago noticed that the table was further bolted to the floor.

  An echoed groan, unnatural in my daydreams of my garden, but becoming common sounds for the jail, brought me back to my living nightmare. I couldn’t escape this horror by dreaming of better places.

  At the sound of keys, my eyes were wild with trepidation and confusion. I chewed my inner cheek until it bled. Muffled footsteps approached. I averted my eyes to stare at the raw circles on my wrists. The door to the interrogation room unlocked with a key, sending a quiet echo throughout the room. The door groaned on its hinges.

  Dressed in an unexpected white suit, a man walked in, making no eye contact and sat across from me. He set down a beige file folder and then drew in a breath before, finally, meeting my eyes. His eyes resembled the water in a stagnant pool: dangerous, murky and deep.

  I dropped my attention to the rings of fire on my wrists once more. He cleared his throat. I had no intention in saying anything that would make matters worse. The sound of the woman’s screams was still fresh, even though it had been hours since I had heard the echoing distressed calls.

  A man in a white smock placed a disposable cup on the table and left without a word.

  “Drink,” he commanded. “It’s water.”

  I couldn’t reach the cup as there was no slack in the chains.

  “Drink,” he insisted.

  I reached once more, pulling on the chains to stretch my fingers.

  He stood, huffed and reached to hold the cup to my lips and began to pour. The metallic taste lingered but it quenched my thirst.

  “So, let’s start over,” he said, straightening the file and then opening it. He pulled the chair forward, scraping its legs against the floor until he was close enough to place his elbows on the table. “I’ve read your file and it is getting bigger by the hour.”

  I hung my head and waited. I shivered.

  He continued. “First things first, I’m Mr. Parr. I’ve been sent to take charge at this facility. You are Saige Anderson.” He read over the front page of the report. “You are 26 years old.” He scanned me up and down, narrowing his red-rimmed eyes. “You don’t look 26 years old.”

  “I am.” That was the only thing true about the entire situation. My last name was Finch, not Anderson.

  He nodded. “Secondly, you must answer to the crime of digging your scanner out of your wrist. What have you done with it?”

  I didn’t answer. I, instead, averted my eyes.

  “So, still no answer on that.” He wrote a note on my chart. “As you may have learned already, a police report was delivered to be added to your file. You have been charged with a serious crime. You must confess and provide the details for this crime.”

  “What crime does your police department report that I have committed?”

  “It’s your responsibility to tell me.”

  “Am I not privy to view this report?”

  “That’s not how this works. We don’t get a full report. We get a very brief description. Now you fill in the blanks. That’s how it works. It’s a procedure.”

  I shrugged.

  He slammed the table. “We will be here every day until you talk. Suit yourself.”

  From the doorway, Dr. Bailey Cook emerged and glided towards Mr. Parr. She smiled at me and greeted Mr. Parr with a handshake.

  “Nice to see you again, Mr. Parr.”

  “Hello, Dr. Cook. Do you have results from the tests?”

  “Yes, sir. I have a report for you based on tests I ran four days ago.” She pointed out a few areas of interest. “Instead of Officer Pake, I think Jaxson Chase would be the appropriate guard to be in charge of her and the corresponding interrogation methods.”

  “I’d say so, yes.” He flipped a page. “This is interesting…”

  “Yes, I thought so. First time for everything,” she smiled.

 
; “May I add these to her file?”

  “Yes, have Officer Chase read them over and then have him come see me.” She flipped the page of the report. “This part is of interest. You should be able to make that work.”

  “Yes, I will let them know about that target information.”

  I remained quiet. I didn’t know what to say. I had no memory of hurting anyone and knew nothing that had transpired. I remembered a different life, not this one. I woke in this nightmare.

  “Thank you, Dr. Cook. I appreciate this.”

  “No problem. I will be in my office.”

  Mr. Parr leaned back to look at the file. He ignored me for fifteen minutes as he examined her report. An occasional “hm-mmm’ or clearing of the throat.

  A guard appeared at the door. I recognized his eyes. He had given me the cards. “Sir. You wanted to see me?”

  “Yes, Officer Chase. I am assigning this inmate to you.”

  “Okay, Sir. Do you want me to move her before my shift is over for the day?”

  The suited man sighed. “Before you leave, I need you to read her file. There’s a new report that was just added this morning. And a report from Dr. Cook. Familiarize yourself with Dr. Cook’s recommendations for interrogation practices. And then you need to go meet with Dr. Cook so that you are fully prepared for the new method tomorrow.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Parr jotted down some notes as he spoke. “Make notes in this area of the folder to document her uncooperative behaviour.”

  “Are you finished with the inmate?”

  “You may as well take her back to a cell. She will need a new one of these.” He pointed at something in the file. “Can you take care of that?” He glanced up at Chase as he read it. When Chase leaned in, Mr. Parr handed him the file.

  Chase examined the notes. “Oh. Hmmm…I will look into that. Yes. I’m sure I can get that done.” Chase glanced at me with a confused look on his face.

  “I’ve got a few phone calls to make.”

  “Sir, before you go, just clarification, please? You want her to be assigned to a regular cell rather than the isolation cell?”