On The Inside

by Kim Cano

  Cocoa’s breath started smelling awful again, so we brought her back to the vet. They say we need to brush her teeth. They gave us this plastic thumb cover and chicken-flavored toothpaste. The vet claimed it would be easy to do, but Bob and I both struggle to take care of it. Now he’s wrapping her in a blanket so she looks like a kitten burrito. Only thing that sticks out is her head. That way she can’t scratch us to death. She still squirms and hisses at us every time. The best part is I watched the vet do it by herself, and Cocoa sat completely still and was an angel when she did it. Ugh!

  How’s the gardening gig? Are you still liking it?

  Love ya,

  Olivia

  *****

  Lakeisha stopped by Kristen’s cell with two envelopes. She had zero expression on her face, which Kristen thought was odd. Kristen ripped open the letter from Lupe. She hadn’t heard from her in ages.

  In typical Lupe fashion, the note was short and to the point. Kristen beamed with happiness. She couldn’t believe Lupe was pregnant. And that she was having a girl. It was so exciting. If Kristen were out of prison, she would have loved to buy her a bunch of cute outfits and toys. She was ecstatic for Lupe. She liked Debbie, but no cellmate compared to Lupe and all her stories. She wished nothing but the best for her and couldn’t wait to write her back, so she could share her own good news of the boy’s recent visit.

  After Kristen read the second letter from Olivia, she found herself feeling disappointed. Olivia still hadn’t mentioned Cindy, and she wondered how long she had been in the picture.

  Kristen let out an angry hrmph and tossed the envelope aside, then climbed onto her bunk, tucking her legs into her chest and resting her head on her knees. She was upset Olivia hadn’t said anything to her. They were sisters, after all. Didn’t sisters share everything?

  No, they weren’t sisters. Not really.

  Olivia was Jeremy’s sister, and blood was thicker than water.

  Brooding and in a terrible mood, she thought again about the fact that her own family hadn’t been there for her. Yet she could always count on a letter from Olivia twice a month, with family updates and assorted photos. Maybe she was being too harsh. Olivia was doing the best she could, trying to walk a fine line between being a good sister and a good sister-in-law.

  Deep down, she knew she had no right to be upset after what she’d done. But she figured Olivia would’ve at least given her a heads up about another woman. That way, she wouldn’t continue to hope. Or maybe that was why she didn’t say anything – so she wouldn’t lose hope.

  She hadn’t received divorce papers yet. And as awful as life was right now, with another woman having an intimate relationship with her husband, she still had a miniscule chance of reconciliation. She never expected him to be celibate while she was gone, although knowing about it wasn’t very reassuring. Maybe Olivia was doing her a kindness by omitting those details.

  Besides, if Jeremy was serious about this other woman, he’d want to move forward with her. And so far he hadn’t. She was still technically his wife.

  She determined to focus on that small bright spot.

  Kristen decided to throw all her energy into gardening and the daily workouts on the yard. Abigail had recently suggested adding some ballet into their routine, and after she demonstrated a few beginner moves, the group found out how much harder the practice was than it looked. It could be just the extra kick they needed to take their sessions up a notch, she thought.

  Chapter 21

  After a visitation from Abigail’s parents, Jess noticed Abigail seemed more distraught than normal. Seeing them usually cheered her up, but with her mood swings lately it was so hard to know. Jess had begun walking on eggshells, afraid to say the wrong thing for fear Abigail would have a meltdown or withdraw. She was completely at a loss on how to help.

  Jess watched Abigail pace the small room. “How are your mom and dad doing?”

  “They’re fine,” Abigail replied without making eye contact. She only had a few feet to traverse each way, but as she did her long hair swished as if she were walking briskly.

  “Did something happen?” Jess asked.

  Abigail stopped and looked up. “No. Why do you think that?”

  “I don’t know. You just seem annoyed.”

  Abigail continued pacing and began chewing on her nail, something she did when things were troubling her. Jess was growing tired of her secretive nature, and even though she loved her, had given up on trying to get any closer, even as a friend. It seemed nothing she did was ever enough to make her happy.

  “Is it your ex, Steve? Did he do something?”

  Abigail burst into laughter, the tone so high-pitched and earsplitting it bounced off the walls and echoed, making the room seem to shrink. She was behaving like a lunatic, and it frightened Jess.

  Jess hopped up onto her bunk and reached for a deck of cards. She was too frazzled to play an actual game; she just wanted to have something to occupy her hands. If she could, she would run away from Abigail, just to free herself from the bedlam.

  Jess forced herself to play solitaire, but soon the energy in the room grew to suffocating proportions, so she chucked the cards and grabbed a book to hide behind. Once Abigail calmed down, she’d try to talk some sense into her, maybe suggest (for the hundredth time) seeing Megan.

  After lights out, Jess pretended to fall asleep so she wouldn’t have to interact. She couldn’t take the pressure. Instead, she lay in the dark wishing Abigail could be how she was when they first met, a lot more fun and way less neurotic. She hated seeing her suffer. When Abigail was hurting it made Jess feel pain. And when Jess couldn’t help her anymore, and the little things she used to do no longer comforted her, it frustrated Jess to no end.

  The sound of sniffling caught Jess’ attention. She thought maybe Abigail had a runny nose, but then she heard soft crying.

  “You okay?” she whispered.

  “Not really,” Abigail said through a sob.

  It was dark but Jess managed to climb down without wiping out, and she sat on the edge of Abigail’s bunk, where she continued weeping.

  Jess reached out and took hold of Abigail’s hand. “You know you can tell me anything, right? I’m here for you.”

  Abigail sat up, her face drenched with tears and said, “There are some things so terrible they can’t be spoken aloud, especially to someone like you.”

  The comment hung in the shadows, confusing Jess.

  “Like me?” she finally asked, feeling a pang of worry.

  There was a long pause. Abigail whimpered between sobs and said, “I mean someone I care about.”

  Jess reached for Abigail and pulled her close. She rubbed her back gently and rocked her back and forth. “You can tell me anything. I promise I’ll be here for you no matter what.”

  “I can’t,” Abigail cried out in a tiny voice. “I just can’t.”

  Jess continued to hold her. She didn’t want to let go. Whatever this misery was that tormented her beloved’s soul, she wanted to banish it, once and for all.

  “Tell me,” Jess whispered.

  Abigail pulled back, and Jess released her. Jess wished she could see her face but could only make out its outline in the gloom.

  Then Abigail began crying again, and in a shaky voice she said, “I killed my son, Jess. I murdered my beautiful boy.”

  She barely got the phrase out before letting out an agonizing howl. Jess quickly pulled her close again, burying her face against her chest so as not to draw attention from the guards. Abigail sobbed freely. Jess couldn’t imagine what hell she’d been suffering keeping that knowledge to herself.

  Without thinking, Jess began stroking Abigail’s hair and pressed her lips against the top of her head, kissing her gently. When Abigail didn’t recoil, Jess continued, planting tender kisses on her forehead, her damp eyelids, her cheeks.

  Warning bells sounded loudly in Jess’ brain, saying: this woman just told you she killed her son!

  Jess ig
nored the warnings and moved on to her neck. She couldn’t believe this was actually happening, that it wasn’t a dream.

  Heat rushed through Jess, and she began getting a bit more forceful, sucking on Abigail’s neck and letting her hands roam free, exploring every exquisite curve of her delicate princess. As she caressed and nuzzled, taking in her intoxicating scent, Jess was filled with ardent desire. After a few minutes, she couldn’t wait anymore, so she pulled Abigail’s pajama top off and started groping her breasts. Jess’ heart pounded hard and she felt more alive than she ever had. When she eventually made her way between Abigail’s legs, she was like a person who’d gone without a basic need, eager to make up for all that was lost.

  The sound of Abigail’s ecstatic cries, muffled under a pillow she’d grabbed, was more jubilant than anything Jess had ever heard. It was the happiest night of her life. She couldn’t believe it was real. She wanted to pinch herself. Luckily, she’d been intensely present throughout. Every moment was burned into her mind so she could replay it later in all its glorious detail whenever she chose to.

  *****

  Morning seemed to come right after falling asleep, and Jess and Abigail were up making their beds. They adhered to military style, tucking the sheets and blankets in tight, with a six inch collar at the top. Neither of them spoke as they went about their business, finishing just before the guard came by for morning count. Once their names were ticked off the list, it was time to get cleaned up for breakfast.

  While lathering with soap and water, Jess found herself thinking. Not about the amazing sexual experience, but about the secret Abigail had revealed. She was so caught up in the moment, she hadn’t had a chance to let it really sink in.

  The woman she loved killed her son.

  She didn’t know why the idea hadn’t occurred to her before. Jess knew it had to be murder since she was in for life, but she’d always assumed it was in self-defense or something more complicated. As she mentally revisited past conversations, it all became clear. Abigail never wanted to talk about Devin. And she never mentioned hoping he’d come to visit someday.

  While Jess dried off, an uncomfortable thought crept into her mind: Abigail wasn’t her dream girl anymore.

  She couldn’t be.

  That bubble had burst.

  What started out as a sinking sensation morphed into full-blown paranoia as Jess brushed her teeth. What if Abigail was crazy? Like Tanya crazy? It was unthinkable she’d killed her own son, but now Jess wondered how she had done it. A flood of horrific scenes filled Jess’ mind, and she felt the room tilt. She had to grab hold of the sink to stay balanced.

  When she glanced at her reflection in the mirror, it looked distorted. It always did because they had circus mirrors in prison, the warped metal kind, but today it seemed especially strange. As Jess studied herself, she realized most of the time she saw what she wanted to see, and not what was right in front of her.

  The trip to get breakfast was the longest walk Jess had ever taken. The corridor stretched endlessly, taking on the appearance of a tunnel. Her feet were as heavy as cement blocks. She would sit with Abigail, of course, and they would have to talk at some point.

  Once she got to the cafeteria, she saw her ahead in line but chose to remain where she was in back. Abigail was right, Jess thought. If she had told her what her crime was the very first day, she wouldn’t have been as nice to her. As Jess inched forward, waiting her turn for a tray, she realized Abigail hadn’t been anything but honest with her. She’d held back the ugly part, but it was always there, waiting to be seen. All she had to do was take off the rose-colored glasses.

  “You didn’t get much food today,” Abigail mentioned as Jess sat down at her table.

  Jess took a bite while staring at her meal. She could feel Abigail studying her, probably searching for a hint of what might be going on inside her head. When Jess looked up, she felt her heart soften. Abigail still looked sweet, like the same person she knew her to be.

  Jess shrugged. “I guess I’m not that hungry today.”

  “Well, I’m starved,” Abigail said, then proceeded to devour everything on her plate.

  As she munched on her food, Jess watched, wondering what could have happened to make her want to kill her own child. Abigail’s parents still visited almost every weekend and were supportive to her. Why would they do that? Jess remembered what she’d told Abigail last night, that she could tell her anything, and that she’d be there for her no matter what.

  A wave of guilt washed over Jess, followed by a flash of the intimacy they’d shared the prior evening. “You wanna finish my leftovers too?” Jess asked.

  Abigail smiled. “Only if you’re not going to eat them.”

  Jess pushed her tray toward her. “Have at it. Knock yourself out.”

  *****

  Out on the yard later on, Abigail showed off a bit, demonstrating some more advanced ballet moves. She used to notice Jess stealing glances while she worked out, but today, even with her added fanfare, she ignored her. She seemed lost in her basketball game.

  She knew that would happen if she told her the truth. What she didn’t expect was that she’d care as much as she did about Jess’ reaction. She knew Jess adored her, and in its own way made Abigail feel good to be on someone’s pedestal. She had been on her ex-husband Steve’s once, but that was long ago.

  When Jess made love to her the night before, Abigail had drifted during the session. She visualized being on the beach with Steve. That it was his hands touching her, that he was the one who found her irresistible. Her ex-husband had never made love to her with that level of intensity, and as Abigail responded to Jess’ expert touch, she was a combination of ecstatic, confused and surprised.

  Now Jess probably thought she was a monster. The thought brought on more anxiety, something she always struggled with, but Jess had been able to take the edge off with her kindness and friendship.

  If she lost Jess, she’d probably snap.

  When they were back in their cell, Jess hopped up onto the top bunk and grabbed a book. Abigail lay down in hers and closed her eyes. Her neck muscles began twitching and a sense of dread filled her consciousness when Jess didn’t offer to read to her.

  Abigail was slowly drowning in apprehension. It was suffocating. She was on the verge of screaming out loud, and it took everything she had just to hold it inside. Because she couldn’t sit still she got up and grabbed a Sprite out of the locker. On her way back, she chanced a glimpse at Jess.

  Jess caught her and made eye contact. She looked uncomfortable, like she wanted to avoid discussing things. “You wanna talk?” she asked.

  “Sure,” Abigail replied, feeling even more nervous all of a sudden. She opened her drink and sat down.

  Jess stayed on the top bunk. She set the book aside and stared at the ceiling. After a pause she said, “I want to hear about your son Devin.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything.”

  “It will take a long time to tell you everything,” Abigail answered in a shaky voice, “but since we have nothing but time, I guess I could if that’s what you really want.”

  Abigail took a deep breath, exhaled, and began. “My son was the blessing we had always hoped for. Steve and I both wanted children, so when we got news I was pregnant, nothing could have made us happier.”

  Jess climbed down and sat on the lower bunk opposite Abigail, leaning on one arm to support her head.

  “Devin was an angel as a baby. Very quiet. Cried once in a while but not as much as other babies. He was our everything.”

  Jess wore a puzzled expression.

  “As he grew, we noticed some unusual behavior. He didn’t seem to connect with us. It was like he was emotionally detached. Then, as the years passed, it went downhill. One tumultuous event after another. There was no peace. Somehow over the course of his short life, something went wrong, and my son began acting like a demon, hell bent on destroying our lives.”

  “
What do you mean by demon?” Jess asked. “You mean like scary movie possessed?”

  Abigail sighed. “Not exactly, but truth be told, it wasn’t that far from living in a scary movie.”

  Abigail could almost see the jumble of emotions on Jess’ face: love, disgust, curiosity. They appeared to be in competition. “Couldn’t he get some kind of help?” she finally asked.

  That question made sense. Of course, no one would really understand unless they’d lived in her shoes.

  “We loved Devin and did everything in our power to help him. Unfortunately, nothing we tried worked. He was diagnosed with so many things it was overwhelming. They said he had conduct disorder, oppositional defiant disorder, ADHD, anxiety, depression, reactive attachment disorder, and autism spectrum disorder.”

  Abigail could see Jess glazing over but continued. “In a nutshell, he was crazy. But to break it down, conduct disorder means he was a diagnosed sociopath. He was violent, and if he couldn’t be cured, he would’ve most likely turned into a psychopath. He had massive aggression problems. We dealt with IEP – that’s individualized education program – meetings for his school twice per year and a social worker once a month. We had him in occupational therapy, behavioral therapy, speech pathologist therapy, life skills classes. He’d gone to a neurologist, did talk therapy, sand play therapy, even regression therapy, which was supposed to take him back to being a baby so we could try to connect with him. He’d gone to six different specialists, and they had him on drug therapy which only ended up making him angrier. Eventually, he spent time in a residential treatment center and had every test under the sun run on him, but nothing worked.”

  Abigail studied Jess’ expression. The woman who used to worship her, go out of her way to do whatever it took to make her happy, was gone. In her place was a person who looked crushed with disappointment.

  It was right for Jess to judge her. She knew she deserved it.

  Abigail averted her eyes downward. Then, in a soft voice said, “It still doesn’t mean what I did was right. I was his mother. He was just a child who didn’t ask for those problems. It wasn’t his fault. It was my job to raise and protect him…no matter what.”