Helios Beginnings (The Helios Chronicles #0.5)

by Tawa M. Witko

  “Andrew?” she asked.

  He scrunched his brows together. “Do I know you?”

  She swallowed reflexively. “I’m your Aunt Olivia. I’m Kimberly’s sister. I don’t know if you remember me. It’s been a while,” she said quickly, looking down.

  Andrew stared at her from behind the partition and glared. He didn’t remember her at all, but now could see the resemblance with his mom. Andrew had all sorts of ideas running through his head, none of them good. His anger started to boil to the surface. She had not been there when his parents were gone and he was shipped off to one horrible placement after another. She had certainly not been there when her sister hurt him. He instinctually lifted his hand over his heart, feeling the scar. After a sharp intake of breath, he rose quickly.

  “Please wait,” she mouthed through the partition.

  Andrew picked up the phone again. His anger was rolling off of him in waves. All he could think was that as he was going through the revolving door of foster care and group homes, no one came to help him and now here she was, trying to make peace with herself.

  “I just found out you were here and wanted to see you. We’re fam...” she started to say the word family and at that point he had to cut her off, allowing his anger to be released.

  “I don’t have any fucking family,” he hissed out and then hit his fist against the partition, making her jump back.

  The guards immediately responded, grabbing Andrew. Olivia drew her hand to her mouth, stopping the sounds of her heartbreak from coming to the surface. He hated her. She could see it in his eyes. Not that she could blame him, but it still hurt her, deep within her soul. How could she make things right if he wouldn’t allow her? She watched as the guards forced him out of the room. A very large man, having observed the exchange, came over quickly and grabbed Andrew’s arm.

  “I got him.”

  The other guard nodded his head as Reeves nudged Andrew out of the room. Andrew noticed that Reeves was giving him a strange look as he directed him back to general population. Andrew was fairly certain that he was going back to solitary confinement which suited him just fine. Instead Reeves brought him back to his cell. Andrew immediately started pacing as Reeves stood at the opening. Andrew turned to look at him and could see that he had a concerned expression on his face.

  “WHAT!” Andrew yelled, causing Reeves to stand a bit taller.

  Reeves had an intimidating presence about him in general, but when he shifted from the happy go lucky guy into guard status he’d scare anyone. He glared in Andrew’s direction and his energy seemed to suck up all the air in the tiny space. He strode over to Andrew and brought up his nightstick, tapping him on the chest several times.

  “You better stay in here and calm down, Harrison, or you are going to end up hurt.”

  Andrew knew he had pissed him off and was walking a very thin line, but his head was spinning. He couldn’t think straight but recognized that he needed to take a step back. The last person he needed against him was Reeves. Andrew nodded and Reeves lowered his nightstick. He started to walk towards the cell entrance and then stopped. He turned around and looked at Andrew. His expression had softened some.

  “You’re not the first person to have a visitor fuck them up emotionally. Most end up coming back into general pop and doing something stupid. They get themselves hurt or hurt someone else. They end up getting their sentences extended or losing privileges, sometimes worse.” He stared at Andrew, making sure he understood what he was saying. “Just, stay in your cell, Harrison.”

  Andrew nodded again and dropped down on his bed, running his fingers through his hair. When he looked up again Reeves was gone. He glanced at his sketch pad and picked it up along with his pencils. He gently rolled his shoulders and leaned back against the wall flipping to the page he’d been working on for a few days. He glanced at the drawing that was almost done. It was a picture of a Harley with two people kissing on it. The background wasn’t complete though. He hadn’t decided where to place them. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking several deep breaths and suddenly he saw the sun bright in the sky and sand dunes all around. He opened his eyes and smiled as his fingers moved the pencil quickly across the page.

  Year Four

  “Harrison, you have mail.”

  Andrew looked up confused. He rarely got mail and couldn’t imagine who would be writing to him aside from his busy body aunt. He set his sketch pad down and took the letter. As he glanced at the return address, his breath hitched and he dropped the envelope immediately. His heart began to race as he started to pace within his cell. Every so often his eyes would shift back at the envelope. Andrew’s hand was nervously moving through his hair as his anxiety level tripled in a matter of seconds.

  “Oooh, Harrison, what’s got you so hot and bothered? Need to work off some of that energy?” Marcus laughed as he and Jack paused at the entrance to Andrew’s cell.

  Andrew didn’t hesitate. He leaped at Marcus so quickly that he had no time to react. Andrew started punching his face over and over again until blood was coming out of his mouth and nose. When Jack tried to get him off of Marcus, Andrew turned his rage on him. A deep rumble emerged from his throat as he slammed Jack against the metal bars of the cell. Jack fell to the ground, which didn’t stop the fury boiling within Andrew. Instead he pounced on Jack with all his force, hitting him with everything he had in him, trying desperately to release the anger pent up inside of him.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Guard Reeves hollered as he wrapped his baton around Andrew’s neck, pulling him back and away from Jack.

  Andrew was still moving trying to get loose so that his wrath could be fulfilled, but he felt a sharp pain in his side as another guard jabbed him several times with his nightstick. Andrew swung his legs and kicked the stick out of the guard’s hands and that’s when Reeves tackled him. He threw Andrew to the ground with the nightstick still at his neck. Reeves pulled up on his stick effectively forcing Andrew’s head back. His knee was firmly set between Andrew’s shoulder blades and the sheer weight of him had Andrew out of breath and gasping for air.

  “Put your hands on your head, Harrison,” the guard shouted as he kicked at Andrew’s hands.

  Andrew quickly complied, drawing his arms up. His anger was starting to subside as the ramifications of what he was doing started to set in. He became light headed and just as he was about to pass out, Reeves loosened his grip, giving Andrew just enough oxygen to remain conscious.

  “Get those other two to the infirmary,” Reeves ordered.

  Andrew glanced towards the direction of moving feet and out of the corner of his eye he could see that Marcus was unconscious while Jack was glaring in Andrew’s direction. Two more guards came over. One checked on Marcus and immediately started talking in his walkie-talkie while the other went over to Jack who was grumbling that he was fine.

  “Don’t fuck with me, Harrison,” Reeves sneered.

  Andrew mumbled some form of noise that Reeves took as agreement. He moved his knee and released his hold on Andrew’s neck. Andrew immediately began coughing, trying to bring air into his lungs again. Reeves grabbed Andrew’s hands roughly and cuffed them behind his back as his huge hands griped the cuffs, holding Andrew in place.

  “I’m taking him to the hole,” Reeves stated, looking back at the other guards.

  Andrew glanced over his shoulder in time to see Jack flip him off. Andrew smirked at him, knowing it would anger him. As expected, Jack tried to lunge towards him but was yanked back by one of the guards. Reeves jerked Andrew out of his cell, leading him towards the solitary confinement cells. Reeves did not utter a single word to Andrew until they were almost to the cell.

  “So what the fuck happened? Did they go after you again?”

  Andrew sighed and shook his head, “No, they just happened to be the unlucky fools to say something to me when I was pissed.”

  “Harrison, that shit was stupid,” Reeves replied as the cell door opened. He uncuf
fed Andrew and tossed him inside, “I can’t run interference for you on this. You’re on your own. Do you understand?”

  Andrew didn’t say anything in reply. He simply nodded as he took a seat on the floor. Reeves watched him for a moment and then shut the door. The darkness enveloped Andrew and overpowered his senses. He closed his eyes and tried to settle his nerves.

  “Do it! NOW!”

  “But I didn't do anything,” I wail through my tears.

  His face morphs and for a minute he looks like one of those old pictures of the devil. He grabs the switch from my hand and I immediately start screaming.

  Andrew jumped up and started pacing in the dark. Back and forth, back and forth until he finally stopped, a mere inches from the wall. He rested his forehead against the cool concrete and closed his eyes tightly. His body was now flush against the wall. Unable to control his tears any longer, he succumbed to the despondency of his life. He stood there, sobbing uncontrollably. Eventually his feet could no longer hold him upright and he fell to ground, curling himself into a ball as his world caved in around him.

  ~*~

  Andrew walked inside his cell ten days later and plopped down on his cot, moving the letter that had still been sitting on the bed where he had left it before. The ten days had been his longest stint in solitary and he didn’t want to do it again. He literally could feel himself going insane. Reeves had told him that he had broken Marcus’ jaw and might have caused some permanent damage to his eye. Andrew wished that he felt bad about that but in truth, he didn’t. Marcus had made the last several years miserable for him, so while he may not have ‘deserved’ the beating he got that particular day, he surely deserved it for other offenses. Andrew had been worried that the warden would give him more time or report him to the judge or something worse, but he didn’t. Apparently Reeves had gone to bat for him. He had told the warden that Marcus and Jack had always started trouble for Andrew so he wasn’t surprised that Andrew had taken matters into his own hands. So in spite of what Reeves had told Andrew when he first dropped him off in the hole, he had run interference for him.

  “Is this,” a voice said as a nightstick tapped the letter, “what upset you?”

  “Why did you protect me?” Andrew asked not looking up at Reeves. His eyes were still focused on the letter.

  “I’m going to tell you something and if I find out you said anything to anyone, I will make your life a living hell,” Reeves stated as he stepped further into Andrew’s cell.

  Andrew finally looked up at him. “Do you mean my life ISN’T already a living hell?”

  Reeves smiled that happy-go-lucky smile that didn’t belong in prison.

  “Yeah, I suppose it must feel that way right now.” He glanced around to make sure that the two of them were indeed alone before continuing to talk, “My older brother was a bit of a troublemaker, but a great guy, and there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for me. When he got sent away, I was twelve. A year later, he died in prison. He was raped and beaten to death while the guards stood by and did nothing about it.” He sighed dramatically and looked around again, to see if anyone was nearby before looking at Andrew again. “I like you. You remind me a lot of my brother, but don’t get any crazy ideas that because of that you can do whatever the fuck you want around here and I won’t take you out.”

  Andrew nodded and took a deep breath. “Well, thank you for helping me and I’m really sorry about what happened to your brother.”

  He smiled again and tapped his baton against the letter lying on the bed. He arched his brow.

  “Just read it, Harrison. Better to get it over with than to wonder what’s in it. If it’s bad news, well then, fuck it, but you never know, it might be something good as well.” He began to walk to the entrance of the cell and turned to Andrew. “Just don’t try to fight anyone else if it turns out to be bad. I don’t think I can protect you if you do.”

  Andrew nodded again and picked up the letter. He traced his fingers along the return address before flipping it over. His unsteady hands quickly removed the document contained within. Beads of sweat began to line his brow as he unfolded the one page letter.

  Son,

  I was surprised to hear that you were in prison. You were always such a pussy and never wanted to do anything illegal so I almost didn’t believe this guy when he said he met another Andrew Harrison in the California pen. But he described you and I thought that had to be my son. I know I am probably the last person you wanted to hear from considering you have never come to see me or acknowledged my existence, but I still want to help you, even though if you had done what the fuck I told you to do I wouldn’t be in here myself. But that’s beside the point. I have a few buddies that are in County as well. They can look after you. You were never one to deal with pain very well or even discipline for that matter, so I am sure you can’t defend yourself in a prison. I tried to teach you that necessary life skill but you had too much of your mother in you to really learn it. Now this guy from county did say that you were fighting off these two fuckers who were trying to make you their bitch and that at the time he was released, they hadn’t done anything yet. I bet you’re glad I taught your ass how to fucking survive in the real world, aren’t you? Anyway, this guy said that he didn’t know what became of the situation but, in case you have now lost that battle and have become some prison faggot, find John Michelson or Clyde Raymond. Tell them you’re Drew’s son and they will help you to deal with these fucking assholes. Be strong and remember what I taught you.

  Drew, #334887

  Andrew crumpled the letter into a ball and threw it against the wall. He was fighting the wave of anger and rage that was floating to the surface once again. His stomach churned as his fists clenched into tight little balls by his side. He rose to his feet and began pacing the small enclosure liked a caged animal ready to strike.

  “What the fuck! I haven’t heard from him in fifteen damn years and that’s the best he could do? No, ‘I'm fucking sorry for beating the shit out of you or worse, making you beat yourself.’ No, ‘Hey man, sorry I used drugs around you and fucked your mother while you were in the same room.’ No, ‘I'm sorry for making you scam and cheat people and feel like shit.’ Nope, all I get is, I am sure you’re somebody’s bitch by now and need my help protecting your sorry ass. FUCK! What exactly did that motherfucker teach me?”

  Andrew’s hands flew into his hair as he tried desperately to control his need to hit something. As if on cue, he spotted his sketchpad lying under his bed. His hands dropped to his side and with a heavy sigh, he reached down and grabbed it. He dropped down on the bed and closed his eyes, remembering what Reeves said. He couldn’t get into another fight. If he did, then he would be right back in the hole and this time he knew he wouldn’t come out of it okay.

  Year Five

  Andrew stared down at the nearly blank piece of paper. He had been wrestling with it all morning trying to figure out what to write. His aunt had written to him religiously, once a month, for the last few years. The letters always came around the first because she said that it was the start of the month, a new beginning of sorts. Andrew wasn’t exactly sure what that was supposed to mean, but he had to admit that she was wearing him down with her optimism. In the beginning, she used to spend most of her letters apologizing for not being there for him, for what her sister did and how she wished things had been different, but the past year she changed approaches. Her letters were now always joyful, as if she were writing to her nephew who was away at summer camp and she was letting him know what was happening in town while he was away. Andrew wasn’t sure what she was trying to prove, but after the letter from his father a year ago he realized that things needed to change. It was clear that his father had not changed at all. He saw nothing wrong with what he did and instead critiqued him for having too much of his mother in him which made Andrew wonder if maybe his mom had not always been crazy. He wondered if maybe there was something else there as well, some goodness.

  Over
the past year of reading Olivia’s gentle musings, he decided it was time to stop hating her for something she truly had no control over. The problem he had now was what to write about. He couldn’t exactly tell her about the things that went on in prison and he wasn’t accustomed to expressing his feelings. That didn’t leave him many options. He closed his eyes and waited, hoping that something would happen and the right words would emerge from him.

  “Harrison, I need to ask you something,” Reeves said walking into Andrew’s cell.

  Thankful for the distraction, Andrew set his pen and blank letter down and looked over at him. Reeves looked nervous for some reason. He was shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He then walked back to the entrance of the cell and glanced at a noise that was coming from a cell, three or four down from Andrews.

  “What’s on your mind?” Andrew asked, curious what could make the tough guard look so skittish.

  “Look, this is going to sound weird but...” He stepped out of the cell completely and looked down both hallways before walking back inside.

  “Okay?” Andrew replied, shaking his head slightly.

  “My anniversary is in two weeks and umm, my wife is expecting something spectacular. Well, that’s sort of my fault because I hinted that she was getting something she would never expect and nothing she could find elsewhere. I mean I don’t know what the hell I was thinking,” He rambled as he started pacing in the small cell.