Jane sipped her margarita as the waitress took Pilar’s order, a glass of merlot as usual. Pilar sensed Jane’s intense scrutiny. Yet, Pilar realized she did need a friend. Someone she could confide in. Still, Pilar must be careful. Though it seemed a long time since they first met, Pilar knew baby steps were in order with Jane. See what game she played. Pilar sounded like a prisoner herself. But, why shouldn’t she? None of the employees had gone out of the way to befriend her until Jane.
Pilar wanted to share her current situation with someone. It had been difficult for her to keep the affair with Chad hidden. She desperately wanted to celebrate her love in the open. Yet, she hadn’t even had the courage to tell her best friend Julie about Chad. So, how could she tell the nurse who worked for her?
Jane waited for the waitress to serve the wine before she said anything. When she finally talked, she stunned Pilar.
“I know you are fully aware of my relationship with Tommy. We’re deeply in love and I need you on my side. I can’t afford to have anyone squeal on us, not after we’ve kept it quiet for almost two years.” Jane looked at the people seated at the bar. She smiled at an officer, a man Pilar had seen escorting prisoners to the infirmary.
“There’s no sense beating around the bush,” Jane said. She took a long swig of her margarita as though she needed the alcohol’s help. “You and Chad have been having a thing, too.”
Heat ran through Pilar’s veins. How could she and Chad have been so careless, so stupid? Pilar sipped her wine. How could she respond to Jane without either revealing too much or appearing defensive? Pilar couldn’t win.
“What I’m saying,” Jane pressed. She was tearing the shells from one peanut after another, assembling a pile of nuts on her napkin. “We’re in the same boat. We can use each other’s support.”
“Support?” Pilar asked cautiously. “What kind of support?”
Jane pursed her lips. “Like tonight. Someone to talk to so we don’t feel like such sneaks, or outsiders, or dirty.”
“I don’t feel dirty,” Pilar answered too quickly. “I have nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Me either. And that’s what I mean. Maybe we can help each other.” She almost begged.
What is Jane up to? Pilar decided not to tell her anything just yet. Not until she was damn sure about Jane’s motives.
“Look,” Jane confided. “I’m going to be honest withyou.” She popped a handful of peanuts into her mouth.
“I may not be ready for your honesty.” Pilar rested her back against the chair. She admired Jane’s classic features. Even chewing a wad of nuts, she looked like the bust of Nefertiti pictured in “National Geographic”.
“Too late.” Jane licked the salt from her lips. “I want you to know so you don’t think you’re alone.” Jane lowered her eyes to Pilar’s tapping foot. Jane knew what was going on in Pilar’s head, all right. Maybe she wanted more than to be Pilar’s confidante. Maybe even blackmail her.
Was Pilar reacting again like a paranoid inmate?
“Whether you want to admit it or not, except for the drastic differences in our backgrounds, you’re a lot like me.” A self-satisfied smile crossed Jane’s face. “I’ve been studying you since you got to Hawk Haven.”
A golf ball size lump formed in Pilar’s throat at the thought Jane had learned more than she wished anyone to know, except Chad. She and Chad had been too obvious. They knew better. Training taught Pilar that prisoners and staff are experts at finding that weak link to set up for their own purposes. Pilar had been visible to Jane, and who else? She had no one to turn to. She was like Maria, the fifteen-year-old prostitute.
Jane examined Pilar like an artist about to paint a portrait. “You don’t have to worry. I’m not telling anyone else. We need each other, now and in the future. As I said, you’re more like me than you think.”
Jane snagged her. Pilar finally bit. “How do you mean?”
“This is the first time either of us have found a man who listens to us and makes us feel important.” Jane smiled and nodded several times. “Right?”
Pilar was drawn to the loud laughter coming from the crowd at the bar, as though they had overheard the absurd conversation. She wanted to be with friends, drinking, laughing, and sharing small talk. She wanted to be with Julie. She didn’t want to be in this intense, prying conversation. Pilar quietly answered, “Yes.”
Jane’s self-assured and accurate accounting of their likeness was uncanny. She might have eavesdropped on Pilar’s thoughts since Chad came into her life. More likely, Pilar had revealed all to Jane through her own body language.
“We’ve been the perfect daughters,” Jane continued. “And now we’ve each become the center of one man’s attention.”
Jane hesitated, anticipating a response. Pilar felt the dampness in her armpits and on her forehead. She didn’t want to wipe the sweat away and give Jane a heads-up about how nervous she made her. Jane had pegged Pilar.
Jane eased back and signaled the waitress. “You might as well face it, Pilar.” It’s the only time she had used her given name since Pilar’s first day on the job. “We’re just two good girls finding bad boys who need us.”
Jane played with the straw in her empty margarita glass. When the waitress pushed through the growing throng of Friday night patrons to their table Jane asked,“Want another drink?” She pointed the straw at Pilar’s half-empty glass.
“No. I’ll finish this wine and then I have to be on my way.” Pilar swallowed the remainder almost choking.
“Too bad. I’m not ready to do Mommy duty yet.” Jane ordered another margarita. “Besides, this place is better than our double-wide in the trailer park, and my husband slugging down beers and bitchin’ about his dinner.”
In the bar’s atmosphere, Jane wasn’t the efficient Nurse Carson. It was almost like she was three different persons. She was a nurse, a wife and mother, and a woman, like Pilar, in a forbidden affair.
Jane walked Pilar to the door with the freshened drink in her hand. “One more thing,” Jane said as she nudged Pilar’s arm. “Do you think Chad can get approved for all those infirmary appointments if I’m not making sure they’re processed?”
Pilar was too confused to utter a word.
“I HOPE WE CAN do this another time,” Jane offered. “When you can stay longer. When you’re ready to combine forces.” She turned away and joined a group at the bar.
Pilar marveled at the easy way Jane maneuvered between two prison officers. Pilar envied their acceptance of her. She had never felt that comfortable around people.
Was Jane really like Pilar? Was she seeking a woman friend with whom she could confide, compare aggravations, bitch about her husband, kids, and fathers? Someone with whom to share the darkest secrets and dreams? Someone like Julie? Pilar wasn’t sure. Jane’s obvious hunger for such a relationship made Pilar uneasy. What were Jane’s real reasons for the rendezvous at Flanigan’s? Why did Jane think they had a future together?
Driving home, Pilar tried to picture a young Jane at her house for a sleep-over. It would never have happened. Was it because of the color of her skin, or because of her distinct neediness?
Pilar let go of those worries for the moment and concentrated on Chad, a much happier and sure prospect. Despite Jane’s awareness, Pilar wouldn’t trade in the past months for anything. She was enthralled with every conversation with Chad, and every common taste they discovered. As with books, their tastes in music were similar. Though neither was fond of opera, they loved Mozart and Verdi mixed in with a little Earl Klug and Madonna.
That wasn’t all of it. Pilar admired Chad’s interaction with the other inmates, every instance confirming her belief that he shouldn’t be in prison. One day when twenty-year-old Murphy was supposed to see the psychiatrist, Chad happened to be in the hall at the same time. Murphy had slid to the floor, rocking on his heels. He held his head in his hands and cried. Chad squatted at his side and circled his arm around Murphy.
Though the off
icer approached them intending to breakthem apart, Pilar stopped him. Murphy and Chad stayed in that position, Chad talking softly. After fifteen minutes both stood and Murphy went to see the psychiatrist. He had kept that appointment every day since.
As Pilar watched that interaction, she had wiped away her own tears. No transcript or trial could reveal the real Chad Wilbanks she saw that day.
chapter eleven
LETTERS
MONDAY BEFORE THANKSGIVING PILAR was reading the normal pile of prisoner communications, called “kites”, when her phone rang. The prisoner operator clipped, “You have an outside call, Doctor Brookstone.”
Surprised by an early morning caller, Pilar was hesitant to answer. She feared bad news from her mother. When she finally lifted the receiver, Pilar heard a male voice on the other end and it was not Celeste’s. “This is Larry Corbett’s brother,” he said in a muffled tone as though he was holding his hand over the phone’s mouthpiece. “I’m only telling you this once.”
“Who is this?” Pilar asked when the name didn’t register.
“Listen up, lady. I don’t have all day.”
The caller paused. He seemed to adjust something. Pilar heard rustling, like paper being shuffled; or perhaps the caller rearranged a cloth over the mouthpiece. “You better take care of my brother, Larry,” he insisted in a controlled and loud voice. “Do as he asks or … ”
“I only treat prisoners who have a real problem.” Pilar was annoyed by the intrusion. “If you are Larry Corbett’s brother, you should caution him about having someone intercede from outside. I … ”
“Doctor Brookstone, if you don’t do as I say, I’ll see to it you don’t work again. You know about the information Larry has on you.”
Pilar didn’t comment. No need to let the caller, whoever he was, think he knew anything.
“Remember,” he warned, “I’m on the outside and I’ve got a lot of friends who don’t mind messing up a pretty face. Especially one that belongs to an uppity bitch. I know your address, so just take care of Larry or else.”
The line went dead. “Or else what?” Pilar whimpered.
Staring at the telephone for several minutes Pilar recalled the many encounters she’d had with Larry Corbett. Like Tommy Johnson, he worked in the in firmary as a porter so it wasn’t easy to avoid him. Each time Pilar bumped into him in the hall he pestered her. “When are you going to call me out to look at my back, Doc?”
“You know the procedure.” Pilar’s answer was always the same. “Sign up for sick call in the block like everyone else.” Why would Corbett think he deserved special treatment?
After Corbett first approached Pilar, she reviewed his medical file. He had an old back injury and some osteoarthritis. He took Vioxx. Nothing else could be done. He was prescribed physical therapy which he refused. In fact Corbett could loose a good thirty pounds, which would be the best help for him and his weary joints.
That phone call was something else all together. Larry Corbett had obviously told someone about his last conversation with Pilar when she made rounds in his block. Corbett was a medium custody prisoner brought to Hawk Haven as part of the labor force to maintain the prison. The day Pilar circulated in his housing unit, he burst out of his cell when she passed. He had grabbed Pilar’s arm. She yanked it away. “Watch who you’re touching,” she admonished.
Corbett raised both his hands, took a few steps back, and asked, “You selective about who touches you, Doc?”
“What are you talking about?”
A slow smile crossed Larry Corbett’s face. He leaned toward Pilar. “I know about you. I’ve got pictures of you, and ya don’t want no one else lookin’ at ‘em. I found ‘em taped under one of the desk’s in an office I clean.”
What pictures could he be talking about? She’d given a couple to Chad. But, he wouldn’t be that careless. “You’re trying to create a story you think will persuade me to treat you,” Pilar stated. “Well, Mr. Corbett, you have nothing on me and you know it.”
“Look, Doc, I’ve overheard conversations about you and a prisoner here. I don’t think ya want that kind of information out, understand what I’m sayin’?” He waited for an answer.
“I’m not going to do anything for you unless you followprocedure,” Pilar said as she turned and walked away.
“I know where you live.” Corbett followed her. He handed her a piece of paper with her address written on it. Pilar’s body flared up like someone torched it. She took the note from Corbett and left the cell block.
“Later,” Corbett called out as he pointed at Pilar.
AT FIRST, PILAR ACCEPTED the conversation as just another angry inmate trying to persuade her to do something that didn’t need to be done. It wasn’t difficult to get an address from the desk of a careless employee, especially if he placed too much trust in a prisoner porter. Even Pilar found herself in that position. Since Corbett didn’t show her any pictures, they could be ID photos taken from someone in the personnel office. He was the porter there, too.
Though Pilar let that incident go, she did make an appointment to see Corbett a few days after their conversation. But, the telephone call came first. Until then there was no reason to report Corbett.
Given the threats made by both Larry Corbett and the man who claimed to be his brother Pilar decided there could be a legitimate concern. So she made an appointment to see Warden Whitefeather. It was a tough decision in light of the warden’s apparent assessment of her at orientation. On that day Pilar would have denied she’d ever be the rule-breaker she had become. She decided to prepare a written report to give the warden to help keep her factual and calm — if thatwas possible.
PILAR TOOK A DEEP breath and pushed open the door to the warden’s office. His secretary greeted her with an efficient, cold nod, and directed Pilar through to the inner chamber. In seconds Pilar stood in front of Whitefeather.
The warden put down a file. “What brings you here today, Doctor?”
Pilar mentally composed herself before she answered. She had to use the right words so Whitefeather wouldn’t think his orientation prediction had been on target. “My life has been threatened by an inmate and his brother,” she said as collectedly as possible.
“We all get threats. It’s part of the job.” His lips pursed as he appeared to think about what she said. “Perhaps you should transfer to another prison.” That was quick. Was he hoping that was why she was there?
“Transfer! I don’t want a transfer.” Pilar held up her report. “I want this investigated.”
Whitefeather raised his hand like a patrolman stopping traffic. “There have been other rumors that you don’t know about, which leads me to believe you have become a security risk.”
Pilar leaned across his desk and asked, “Me, a security risk?” Now angry, she was trying not to get out of control. “What about the guy who threatened to kill me?” She threw her written account on the desk. “Read it. Read itnow.” She needed that time to quiet her nerves.
Whitefeather backed away; his chair squeaked from years of use. He read the report. Every now and then he peered over his glasses at Pilar. When he finished, the warden laid the narrative down. He said nothing.
Breathing hard, as if she had run a couple of miles, Pilar collapsed into a chair. Visibly shaken, she asked, “What about the guy that called me yesterday from outside who said he was Corbett’s brother?” She was unable to hold back her tears any longer. She blubbered on, more afraid than angry or ashamed. “His brother said he was going to kill me. And, he’s on the outside.”
The warden shifted and cleared his throat. “What kind of signal are you giving these guys? I tried to warn you …”
Pilar jumped out of her chair. Whitefeather moved back again. Was he afraid Pilar would come at him over the desk? That was exactly what she wanted to do. “Warn me?” She over-pronounced the words. “What about the pervert who telephoned me? What signal have I given him? And, why haven’t you mentioned these rumors before now?�
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“Calm down. I’m trying to help.” Warden Whitefeather raised both his hands. Palms faced out. “Do you know what a “Duck” is in prison?”
“No,” Pilar answered as Tommy’s conversation with Jane came back to her. “But, I’ve heard the term.”
“It’s when prisoners set up a vulnerable employee. Are you sure you haven’t put yourself in that kind of position, consciously or unconsciously?”
“What? How can you say that after what I just told you?” Pilar pointed to the paper on his desk.
“Think about it, Doctor Brookstone. Your intentions are noble, but they could mislead prisoners into believing you care more personally about them than you might a patient. Meanwhile, I’ll turn your report over to the state police.”
“That’s not enough.” Pilar pounded her fist on his desk. “We’re talking about my life.”
“There’s little else we can do right now, but investigate this just as you asked.” He brushed his hand through his hair. “Until we get to the bottom of these threats, be careful.”
“CAREFUL. What does that mean?” Without waiting for an answer Pilar marched out, slamming the door. Did the warden know about Chad? She was in trouble, and there was no one to help.
THE SUNDAY OF THANKSGIVING weekend, Pilar drove to Thunder Bay Inn. Despite Celeste’s unrelenting pleas for Pilar to come home for the holiday, a turkey sandwich and NPR were more appetizing than a seven-course meal with her parents. After her conversation with Whitefeather the week before, and the disturbing telephone call she received earlier that morning from Chad, Pilar needed to unwind. Chad had accused her of having a boyfriend on the outside. He wasn’t about to be convinced that Pilar was alone at a movie at the Delft Theater Saturday night when he called. How could she explain her own desperation? Without Chad, especially on a holiday, she too was lonely, but chose to stay close to the prison. As close as she could be to Chad.
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