What Tomorrow May Bring

by Tony Bertauski

  I had almost broken the law. A law I never even knew existed.

  13

  Reed climbed back into the tree. I could feel him occasionally glancing at me, and I tried to focus on my apple picking as if I couldn’t feel his eyes checking in on my every move. I knew he was just worried, but I wished he would stop checking. I wasn’t going to eat an apple, at all. All his constant checking only set me further on edge. Reaching up, I plucked forbidden apple after apple, dropping them into my basket.

  People in nearby trees casually talked and laughed. It was strange to see how relaxed they all were, sitting in trees in the sunshine and filling baskets as if they never had a fear or care in the world. I could hear the rhythmic thumping of the apples as Reed tossed them into his basket high above me. Letting out a breath, I leaned against the tree, one hand mindlessly stroking the bark as I watched the sunlight trickle down through the leaves.

  “Well now, Reed. It looks like our tree is needing a room of its own with this new young lady here.” Someone walked around the tree, leaning casually against it. He smiled at me, then winked. “Pity.Wouldn’t mind a room of our own.” I suddenly felt my throat tighten as Carl’s face flashed before my eyes.

  “With her, or the tree?” Reed called from the branches, his voice light with laughter.

  “The tree, of course!” The new man winked at me again. “I like them sturdy.”

  Reed jumped down from the tree, landing heavily on his feet. He stumbled forward a step, his hands reaching forward to brace himself. The man jumped forward and caught Reed just before he face planted.

  “Whoa there man. Don’t wanna push the Insurance.” The man said, laughing as he hauled Reed to his feet. He stood a few inches taller than Reed, his bright red hair a startling contrast to Reed’s deep brown. He was slim like Reed, but his shoulders and chest were broader, thick with muscles. The man slapped a hand on Reed’s back.

  Reed slapped him back, chuckling. “Thanks Eddie.” He paused, glancing at me, then back to Eddie. “Eddie, this is Millie.”

  Eddie looked at me, an amused smile creeping across his lips. “Millie.” He leaned forward, his voice suddenly coming out in a loud, mocking whisper. “Need some alone time?” Eddie flitted his eyes back to the apple tree, then winked at me.

  I could feel my cheeks burning. Opening my mouth to answer, I suddenly felt tongue-tied, unsure of how to answer his remark. Reed looked at my face a moment, then slapped his friend upside the head.

  “Eddie, come on man. Millie is a recent Out.”

  “Really?” Eddie took a step forward, his eyes wide as he took me in.

  “Yeah. Give her a break, okay? Probably the first time she has seen a real tree.”

  Eddie’s eyes widened even more, if that was possible. “Is that true?”

  I glanced at Reed. He was shaking his head at Eddie, his eyes rolling in mock annoyance. Meeting eyes with me, Reed shook his head and shrugged in apology. “Well, no. I’ve seen them,” I answered. “I’ve just never… touched one.”

  My cheeks still burned. I was in awe of a tree, as everyone else around me walked past through the Orchard without a second glance. How much more obviously different could I get? Eddie opened his mouth to say something else, but Reed suddenly smacked him again, hard enough this time to cause Eddie to let out a choked cough. Reed smiled at me, then shot a look to Eddie. Sighing, Eddie rolled his eyes and slumped against the tree.

  “It’s alright, Millie,” Reed said, taking a step closer to me. I could smell his light sweat on his body and something like peppermint every time he opened his mouth. “We get Outs here pretty often. They all do what you are doing. It’s normal.” Reed offered me a smile, lifting a hand to softly touch my arm. I tried to smile back, but only managed a weak grin.

  “I feel so out of place,” I admitted, shocked at the words as they tumbled from my lips.

  “Don’t feel that way,” Reed said. “You belong here.”

  “Yeah you do.” Eddie stepped up to us, a smile on his freckled face. Reed lowered his hand from my arm, the spot he had touched still warm as he took a step back. “And the tree knows it!”

  “Eddie, honestly man.” Reed couldn’t help but laugh. I watched as his shoulders shook up and down, his white teeth flashing in honest laughter. A small chuckle escaped my lips. Reed reached over and playfully smacked Eddie on the arm again.

  “So, Millie, care to have chow with us?” Eddie casually asked, rubbing at his shoulder where Reed had hit him. He folded his thick arms across his chest. “I hear it’s gonna be the oh-so-delicious usual of veggie stew and baked rolls.”

  My mouth started to water, my stomach growling in anxious agreement. Hoping that Reed and Eddie hadn’t heard, I quickly picked up my basket and held it tight against my demanding stomach. “Sure,” I said, the smile still on my lips.

  “Awesome,” Eddie said, winking his eye at me again before jumping up and clamping a hand on Reed’s shoulder. “Shall we?”

  | | |

  The flames of the fire rose and licked the air, dancing as they grew and shrank in the light breeze. I couldn’t stop staring. The countless nights of sitting huddled on the cold prison floor in front of the barely glowing light dimmed in my memory as I stared into the dancing flames. It was mesmerizing. Others around me casually lounged on the ground or on stools. I could hear the clink of spoons against metal bowls, and my stomach growled again.

  “Here you go,” Reed said as he sat beside me.

  He held a small metal bowl, full to the brim with soup. I could see chunks of potatoes and carrots floating in the thick broth. Gratefully taking it from his hand, I held it in my lap, feeling the warmth from the bowl throb in my chilled hands. It had become cold very fast as soon as the sun began to set.

  Eddie plopped down next to Reed. In one hand he had his bowl, in the other a plate piled high with rolls. I could smell their fresh baked dough drifting through the air. Steam still rose off of their golden crusts.

  Seeing me eye the rolls, Reed picked one up and offered it to me. I smiled at him, taking it carefully from his hand and setting it on my lap. I was almost afraid to eat the food. It seemed too good. Too warm and delicious smelling.

  “Don’t get used to it,” Eddie said, his mouth already full. “Da rolls are usually cold.” He shoved another roll in his mouth, an audible groan of happiness escaping his lips as he shut his eyes and loudly chewed. I couldn’t help but smile.

  “And the carrots aren’t always available,” Reed added. “It’s been a good season on the other farms.”

  I nodded. I looked at the soup again. Stirring my spoon slowly, I watched the carrots and potatoes spin. “At least it isn’t apples.”

  Both of the men laughed. “What, not an apple fan?” Eddie asked.

  I shook my head and shrugged. “I never have been. Something about their texture. Or something.”

  “Bad luck,” Eddie said, obviously amused. Reed shot him a look, then let a chuckle escape his own lips as Eddie innocently batted his eyelashes in mock apology.

  “So Reed, any news on the new buyer?” Eddie asked.

  Reed shook his head. “Not much. Just some huge company or something. At least we have a buyer.” Reed scooped up a spoonful of soup, blowing on it for a moment. “I hear other farms are losing business. Being shut down. They are giving more of the work to the prisons now.”

  Reed and Eddie both glanced at me. I just looked back at them, unsure of what to say. Reed ate the spoonful of soup, thinking for a moment as he carefully swallowed. “Maria said she heard that the inmates are being assigned more jobs. Working longer hours for the same low pay. Soon, the only work most of us will be able to find will be behind those walls.”

  “Awesome,” Eddie sarcastically said, biting into another roll as he stared into the fire. “Before we know it, we will all be out of work.”

  “Or out of a country,” Reed quietly mumbled. He glanced at me and I quickly looked back to the fire. I could feel him watch a momen
t before he too looked away. Reed fell silent as Eddie started to jammer on about something random. Drifting out of the conversation, I looked down at the warm bowl in my hands.

  Lifting my spoon, I finally took a sip of the soup. It was thick and full of flavor, the warmth spreading over my tongue and down my dry throat. Shutting my eyes, I relished it, spooning in another mouthful. I could still feel the hot roll on my lap, but wanted to save it for later. After some time, I realized that Reed and Eddie had fallen quiet.

  Opening my eyes, I glanced in their direction. Reed was watching me, his face soft, his lips in a calm smile. I could see the firelight twinkle in his eyes. Beyond him Eddie had a huge grin on his freckled face, his red head nodding and his eye winking at me in exaggerated happiness.

  “Good isn’t it?” Eddie asked in a cheery voice.

  I couldn’t help it. I laughed. It felt good to feel the laugh explode from my chest, my stomach tightening in the laughter that fell out of me in a gush. Reed’s smile grew. He took a bite of his roll, watching me a moment longer, then turned to face the fire.

  “Can I ask you something?” I asked, not sure which of the two I was questioning.

  Reed turned back to me. “Of course.” Eddie didn’t answer, oblivious to the two of us as he tore into another roll hungrily.

  “Why do people call this Prison Nation?”

  I could see the muscles in Reed’s jaw clench for a moment. He took in a deep breath, then looked back at the fire. “It must be hard for you. I mean, I saw the way you were looking at that tree. Just a tree. Was life hard? In there?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, it was… life.”

  Reed nodded. “You know that life. Life out here, it’s different. I’m pretty sure you went to school in there.” He glanced at me. I nodded. “Well, you will come to find out that what the Nation teaches is… missing some things.”

  “Missing?”

  Reed picked at the remains of his rolls, staring back into the fire. “There used to be a quote, an unwritten law that people followed before the Nation took over. ‘Innocent until proven guilty.’ It’s long gone now. We all live in the knowledge that most everything we do is now illegal, and wait for the day that someone decides to push that fact and throw us into the prison.”

  “But you get your trial. You can fight any charge. Not everyone goes to prison,” I insisted.

  Reed took in another deep breath. “You can fight all you want, Millie. But once they get it in their heads that you are guilty, that is it. It’s all just words after that. We are all already guilty.” Reed looked back at the fire. “That’s why people call it Prison Nation. We are all already locked up.”

  He picked more at his roll, tossing the bits into the fire. It sputtered as the crumbs burned, casting up small sparks that danced in the night sky. He finally glanced down, realizing he had thrown all that had been left of his roll into the fire. I could see his lips tighten.

  I looked at my roll, then held it out to him. Reed looked at it a moment, then shook his head. “No,” he said. “You haven’t even tried it yet. You should. They aren’t nearly this good cold.”

  “I’m full.” Reed raised his eyebrows at me, obviously not believing my lie. “Really. That was a lot of soup. In Spokane we were rarely given that much.”

  “There wasn’t much in that bowl,” Reed glanced at the bowl in my lap. “You still have some.”

  I followed his gaze. I hadn’t realized I still had soup to finish. My stomach growled again, followed by a pang of pain from being stretched. “Meals in the prison have been getting smaller. I didn’t even realize it, until recently. I guess my stomach just shrank, or something.” I looked back at Reed and shrugged.

  Reed pressed his lips together in thought. Reaching out, he softly took the roll from me. I could feel his fingertips brush mine gently. Gripping the roll in his hands, he tore it in half, then passed one half back to me.

  “You still need to try it. It’s good.” With that, he took a bite of his half. His knees were drawn up to his chest, his free arm wrapped around them as he leaned forward against his legs.

  I took a bite of the roll. It almost seemed to melt in my mouth, the light hint of butter teasing my tongue. It really was good. I chewed slowly, trying to not show how badly I wanted to devour the half of roll in my hands. From the way Reed watched me, I knew he would give the other half back if I let on how good it really was.

  “Did you leave anyone, Millie?”

  I stared into the fire, swallowing the last bit of roll. “My mother. And father.”

  “Any friends?”

  I thought of Orrin. My mind drifted to the small piece of sea glass that was nestled safely in my drawer. Then I thought of Jude, his smile through the slit at the bottom of the door, the music that he would let me fall asleep to echoing in my mind. I looked at Reed and nodded.

  “Do you miss them?” he asked softly.

  “I don’t know.”

  “How can you not know?” Reed asked.

  I sighed, lowering my eyes to the trampled grass under my feet. “You try to not make too strong of ties, in there. People are always coming and going. Most of the time, you never know who they truly are. Some are murderers, some druggies, some petty thieves. You end up making friendships just long enough to make it to the next day, you know?”

  “But do you miss them?”

  “I don’t know,” I said softly. I thought for a moment, remembering the few people I had left behind. “I guess I do.”

  Reed watched me a moment, then softly asked, “And your parents?”

  I stared at the grass, trying to bore holes into the earth with my eyes. “I don’t think I will miss them.” The sudden hardness of my voice caused Reed to stare back at the fire. I felt bad for how it had come out. But it was true.

  We sat in silence. Eddie had disappeared at some point during our conversation. I could hear his laughter echoing in the night. “What about your parents?” I finally asked into the silence.

  Reed didn’t look at me. “They’re gone,” he said, barely audible above the hiss of the fire and the chatter of the other diners.

  I shivered. Though the fire was warm against my feet, the rest of my body had grown cold in the night chill. Reed looked over at me. He watched a moment, thoughts crossing his eyes. Then he sighed and offered me a gentle smile.

  “You look cold,” he said. “And pretty tired. I bet it’s been a long day for you. Come on, I’ll take you to your quarters.”

  He stood and offered me his hand. I took it, letting him pull me to my feet. We left the gathering, the heat of the fire disappearing as we stepped into the cold of the night. I started to shiver more. Reed offered me another smile, then put an arm casually around me. I could feel the warmth of his body press against me.

  The memory of Carl’s body pressing hard against mine made me suddenly stumble. Reed held out a hand, grabbing my arm to brace me. I could feel Carl’s grip on my arm, tight and lethal. I tore my arm away in sudden defense.

  Reed pulled his arms away from me, holding them palm out near his head. I felt horrible. He was just trying to be kind, and I had literally just pushed him away. I stared at him a moment, then turned and started walking again, my pace quicker than before. We walked the rest of the way in silence. I wanted to apologize, to explain to him why I had suddenly treated him as if his touch had burned me. But the thought of explaining Carl to him sealed my lips shut.

  We stopped in front of my quarters. Reed turned to face me, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. My mind raced, trying to think of something to say. The hurt on his face that he was trying to mask drove me crazy. Our eyes met, watching each other in the near dark a moment before I tore mine away to look at the door.

  “Thanks,” I said simply.

  I could hear Reed shuffle his feet. “Yeah, no problem.”

  I stepped up to the door, cracking it open. “Hey Millie?” Reed asked. I turned back to look at him. Reed was looking up at me. I could ba
rely see his face, but I knew his eyes were searching for mine.

  “Yeah?” I asked, my voice barely cracking out.

  I could hear his mouth open, then shut again. “Sleep well.”

  With that, he turned and walked away. I could hear his footsteps as he disappeared in the night, heading back to the fire glowing in the distance. Biting my lip, I tried to focus on him, but he was gone. With a sigh, I pushed open the door and ducked inside.

  | | |

  The bed was soft. I didn’t mind that springs poked at my back and legs and that certain spots sagged into hidden holes. Every time I turned or moved the bed would creak loudly. Then I would have to spend time finding a comfortable spot again amidst the springs. None of that bothered me. The fact that I couldn’t feel hard concrete flat against my body was all that mattered.

  Regardless of the new bed, I couldn’t sleep. I lay flat on my back, the blankets pulled tight around me, and stared out the small window above my bed. I had tried to open it earlier, wanting to breathe in the cool night air. Regardless of how hard I pushed, the thick layers of paint gluing the window shut didn’t even crack.

  I could see a small square of sky. Stars twinkled in the black. I couldn’t take my eyes off of them. In my life I had only seen the stars a small handful of times. Each time consisted of mandatory searches and emergency drills that marched us out into the exercise yard to wait in the night. I never had a chance to stop and stare. Tonight, I couldn’t take my eyes off of them.

  Three small, blinking lights passed across the stars. I knew it was an airplane. I had read about them, heard other inmates talk about them. Watching the lights, I couldn’t bring myself to believe there were people, miles above the surface, flying past. I could barely handle the ride in Oscar’s truck.

  Tears stung my eyes. I didn’t know they were falling until I felt the warm streak trailing down my cheek. I felt so out of place. So confused. Everything around me was normal to the people who still sat outside around the warm fire. They didn’t even look twice at the trees or the fire, or the stars.