“Excuse me, miss.” The voice was like gravel. It froze me in my tracks. I was scared to turn around, but I did with a lump swelling inside my throat.
“Yes sir? Can I help you?” I turned to see an older man in his forties with gray around the edge of his hairline. He was wearing a silver colored suit with a thin tie, but none of that was as important as the badge he revealed when he pushed the coat to the side.
“I think you need to come with me.” His eyes were sky blue, but they pierced me like steel when they narrowed and locked on me.
“Why? What did I do?” That was what I asked, but it was cracked and a shriek accented the last syllable.
“You know what you did. Please don’t make a spectacle of this.” He took a step towards me and clenched his hand around my left arm. He was incredibly strong.
I was half-escorted; half-dragged from the mall by the police officer who had was concealed behind a suit that made me think he was nothing more than an average shopper. I wasn’t sure if I could have outrun him, but my legs were jelly and refused to try. When we were away from the mall’s main entrance and forcibly pushed me down across the back of his patrol car and began searching me. There was nothing gentle about his touch, nor did he apologize when his fingers dug underneath my breasts, squeezed my nipples, and then lingered far too long between my legs. When the evidence of my crime was laid out on the trunk of his car along with the contents of my purse, I felt the cold touch of the metal handcuffs and heard the loud clicking sound as they locked into place. The back door opened and I was pushed inside with his hand on my head to avoid injury. I fell awkwardly into his car, and then the door slammed shut on my freedom. He slid into the front seat and sighed, shaking his head for a moment before he looked back at me.
“We’ve been looking for you.” He grabbed his radio and called in the story of his success.
I was no longer invisible. His words echoed in my ears as everything else just flew by. I thought I was immortal and invisible, but clearly I had overestimated my own grandeur. I had been a fool. The handcuffs came off, but they were replaced by a cage. I was the only one in there and when the darkness came, I had time to reflect on my life. I was supposed to be at work, the rent was due the next day, and I had promised my mother I would put flowers on her grave that weekend. None of those promises would be kept. Bail was set fairly low, but I wasn’t able to afford it. A public defender told me to plead guilty, beg for forgiveness, and hope for the best.
“You’re going away for a long time.” The guard cackled as he poured a cup of coffee.
“Fuck you…” I said angrily through the bars.
“You got a filthy mouth. I got something filthy that would look good in it.” He licked his lips.
“In your dreams…” I plopped down on the bed.
They had video of me, and although it wasn’t entirely convincing, being caught red handed would likely sway the jury’s opinion. I followed his instructions blindly, because I had lost the will to fight. They did go easy on me, but their version of easy was ninety days in jail and two years of probation. The judge said it would have been less if it was just one time, but there was a history of criminal activity outlined in the grainy surveillance videos, all of which I was admitting to at the insistence of my legal counsel. Guilty… I was very, very guilty. The guard stared at me as I was chained up and escorted to the van. He marched beside me with his hand on my back.
“You should have taken me up on my offer.” He slipped his hand down and squeezed my ass.
“Stop it!” I said angrily.
“You’ll wish you had a cock to suck on when you’re licking cunts in county.” He slapped my ass hard as I climbed into the van.
“I’ll be just fine.” I glared at him as the door was slammed.
Jail wasn’t as complex or evil as I had been led to believe by television, but it certainly wasn’t Orange is the New Black or even Oz. It was mundane and it was boring. Perhaps that was because it was jail instead of prison, but time passed rather slowly. I was bunked up with someone who was doing the same sentence I was, and when she got out, I was alone for the last week of my sentence. Being alone made me think of everything that waited on me when I got out, or rather what was gone… My apartment would be gone, along with all of my personal effects. I had seen enough tenants kicked out to know all of their stuff went on the lawn for the buzzards to pick through.
“It won’t be long until your big day, huh?” A female guard asked as she walked down the block shutting off the lights.
“Yeah…” I sighed. “Big day…”
I would be walking out of jail with nothing more than the clothes on my back. I spent several nights crying myself to sleep dreading my release as much as I looked forward to eventual freedom. I knew my job was gone, and how could I really reintegrate into society with the smell of my jail sentence still fresh? When the day finally came, I was a ball of emotions and nervousness. Seeing the sun was a momentary glimpse of joy, but as I made my way towards the bus station, I knew that the real horror was going to begin when the night came and I had nowhere to sleep. As I suspected, there was nothing for me at my apartment building. I had to check, but the landlord swiftly dismissed me and told me that I knew what would happen if I didn’t pay my rent. He didn’t care that I had been in jail.
“Come on…” I begged. “I just need a place to sleep.”
“Sorry darling. I am not running a charity.” He shrugged.
Everything my mother had worked for and everything I had worked for was all gone. It didn’t matter if it was stolen property or obtained without ill-gotten gains, there was nothing for me to pick through. I sat down on the stoop outside the apartment building and I began to cry. There was nothing left for me in the world. I had made my own choices and they were there to bite me until nothing remained but an empty shell where my humanity once sat. It would have been easier if I had someone to blame. Shouldering it all was the most difficult part of the realization. If there was someone I could direct my anger at, I could internalize it and use that hate to drive me, but all I felt was self-contempt. I contemplated suicide, but then an amusing thought crossed my mind. I didn’t own a gun or even a kitchen knife. Sure, there were buildings and bridges within walking distance, but that took effort, and effort was the last thing I had. People passed me by; some stopped and stared, but most just walked into the building. After a dozen or so passed, one stopped and didn’t move. I finally lifted my head to see who it was.
“Amy?” It was a friendly voice calling my name, and a face I recognized; one weathered by age.
“Ms. Randolph?” I hadn’t seen her in several years.
“I read about you in the papers. Your mother would have been ashamed.” She shook her head and let out a nasal sigh.
“I know…” I felt tears in my eyes again. “I screwed up.”
“Well haven’t we all? I managed to save some of your things. I didn’t know if I would ever see you again, but they are in my apartment. You won’t steal anything will you?” She put her hands on her hips.
“No! Oh my goodness. Thank you so much!” I felt a lift in my spirit as I hopped up and followed her inside.
The landlord gave me a dirty look as I walked behind Ms. Randolph. It was surreal walking into her apartment again as an adult. One of the strangest parts of the experience was the fact she hadn’t changed it much. It was still a wreck and barely touched. She motioned to a pile of things on the table and I found a lot of pictures, along with a few trinkets. It wasn’t much, but it was something to hold in my hand—things I never thought I would see again. While I perused my history, she made a pot of tea. Tea was practically a ritual for her. It had been a long time since I had felt a hint of kindness. We drank tea and talked about my mother. Ms. Randolph apologized for not coming to the funeral, but said she wasn’t able to get out the way she used to. It didn’t matter to me at all; what she was doing for me at that moment meant more than a couple of hours following a ritual. W
hen the evening wore on, she offered to let me sleep on her couch. I was ecstatic and there was no way I could refuse. It was the first peaceful night of sleep I had since I felt those cuffs slide on my wrists.
One night turned into a week, and then a month had passed. I did everything I could to help her around the apartment when I wasn’t out looking for a job. A part of me still craved the ease of just taking what I wanted, but I resisted the urge. Probation meant regular check-ins with my assigned representative and drug tests, which I always passed without an issue. The only drugs I consumed were nicotine, caffeine and the occasional glass of wine if Ms. Randolph had one before bed. Everything seemed to be going in the right direction for me, and I knew that if I could find a job, I could really turn things around. Ms. Randolph really didn’t ask for anything from me. I think she was happy just to have another adult in the apartment with her to carry on a conversation. She had a meager income, but she knew how to live within her means. I didn’t add much of a strain to that. Unfortunately, just when I thought things were actually going to remain consistent and steady, Ms. Randolph’s sister and niece came to visit. They were not pleased to find out she was sharing her home with a known criminal and urged her to kick me out. She refused, but she did seem to grow distant after that visit. I knew she was considering what they had said, specifically the warning they gave her about me. When they came to visit again a week later, I decided to go for a walk. I didn’t want to listen to them talk about me.
“Well, if it isn’t the shoplifter of the century.” A gravely voice caught me in my tracks as I walked with my hands stuffed into my jacket and my head down.
“You…” I blinked a couple of times when I lifted my head. It was the officer that arrested me.
“Oh don’t worry, I’m not stalking you. They moved me to the homicide division after I caught you. I guess in a way, I should thank you. I finally got the promotion I deserved years ago.” He let out a wry grin as he dropped his cigarette and stepped on it.
“I’m glad destroying my life worked out so well for you.” My brow came together in an angry scowl.
“Oh don’t be so dramatic, Amy. Come on; let me buy you a cup of coffee. I’ll pay for it so you don’t have to steal it.” His sarcastic smile made me angry, but I really did want to get out of the cold.
“Fine…” We walked a short distance to a coffee shop and he ordered two large cups, but let me choose what went in mine. His was filled with sugar and cream. Mine was filled with an artificial sweetener and a fat-free alternative to his sludge.
Behind the badge and the stone cold demeanor was a kind and compassionate man it seemed. While we walked to the coffee shop, he kept me entertained with jokes that forced a smile and a laugh from my normally silent, thin-lined lips. Smiles and laughter were rare, even before I went to jail. I forced them sometimes, but there was hardly a time when I wore the expression of happiness by choice. When we got to the coffee shop and took our place in line, he stopped throwing out quips about my thievery, which I was thankful for. Standing a few feet behind him in line allowed me to get a decent look at him for the first time. I certainly had seen him at the mall and his face was forever emblazoned in my mind, but that quick exchange didn’t give me time to notice the broad shoulders, biceps pressing against the arms of his suit, and chiseled muscles along the underside of his jaw that forced him to keep his top button unbuttoned underneath the tie. He was older than me by some years; I figured he was old enough to be my father. When his hands reached for the coffees and extended one to me, I noticed that both of his hands were fairly calloused, but what I noticed most of all was the wedding band on his left hand. In a way that brought a little sense of relief, because a part of me feared he was interested in more than coffee.
“So tell me Amy, have you been a good law abiding citizen since you got out?” He pulled my chair out before taking his own and striking up conversation.
“I’ve done the best I could. I lost my apartment while I was locked up, but one of my old neighbors is letting me stay with her. She’s a sweet old lady, but I don’t think her family likes the fact I’m shacked up with their elderly relative.” I shrugged my shoulders and sipped the warm liquid.
“I’ve got a daughter about your age. It broke my heart to arrest you, but you made those choices for yourself.” His tone was very matter-of-fact.
“Yes, I’m aware of that. I screwed up.” I sighed and shook my head.
“Where are your parents?” He lifted his cup up and took a sip.
“I don’t even have a clue where my father is. My mother passed away.” I fiddled with the edge of the logo on the coffee cup. I didn’t like talking about my family.
“I’m sorry to hear that. You were raised by a single mother? I see…” He let his words trail off.
“She did the best she could. It wasn’t her fault she was forced to take care of me by herself.” I felt my eyebrows coming together. I loved my mother and even though she had her faults, I didn’t believe any of what I did was on her.
“I’m sure she did, but only having one parent meant there was only one set of eyes on you, which is hardly enough for a child, much less a teenager.” He spoke like a man who had plenty of experience in the area.
“So I guess you and your wife kept your daughter from becoming a criminal?” I motioned to the wedding band on the hand wrapped around the cup of coffee.
“Ah, yes.” He pulled his hand back and rolled it around his finger with his thumb. “I wear it more as a tribute now than as a symbol of what it once stood for. My wife passed.” His face grew a little dark and he swallowed hard. “Cancer…”
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.” I could feel the color draining from my face. “I’m sorry I brought it up.”
“No, it isn’t your fault. However, to answer your question, I think we did alright. Our little girl is across the country siphoning every penny I make into her college education. She wants to be a veterinarian, which isn’t cheap…” He shook his head back and forth while he stared directly into his cup.
“It sounds like you did a great job.” I was jealous in a way. I wasn’t given those opportunities.
“It wasn’t easy, trust me. My daughter had to spend a lot of time over my knee learning right from wrong.” The left side of his mouth turned into a half smile as he shrugged. “She would probably say she had a horrible childhood.”
“Well that is…” I struggled to find a word or phrase that didn’t sound horrible. “…Old fashioned.”
“I guess I’m an old fashioned kind of guy.” He almost cackled and seemed pleased with the comparison.
We finished our coffee over small talk and then we departed. Detective Solomon Crane, Sol as he was known to his friends, had shown me a little bit of kindness and I appreciated it. There had been a lack of it in my life since my mother passed. Unfortunately, kindness wasn’t going to be plentiful that day.
***
When I arrived back to Ms. Randolph’s apartment, her family was still there. They were all sitting in the living room and they grew silent when I got there. They asked me to sit down and then one by one, they told me why they weren’t comfortable with me staying with her. It was like some kind of intervention for something I didn’t do, or at least something I didn’t plan to do. When they were all done, I realized the intervention was for Ms. Randolph.
“We just don’t feel comfortable with you living here with our mother.” Her daughter said with a snotty attitude.
“I would never do anything to hurt your mother. I love her… Mrs. Randolph…” She looked away from me as I tried to plead my case.
They had convinced her to kick me out. She seemed saddened by the idea, but she followed along with what they said and gave me one of her old suitcases to pack the few things I managed to accumulate, along with the things she saved for me. I had never been kicked out of anywhere before. Right before the hammer fell, she walked into the hallway and told me she was sorry. I understood, even if I didn’t like
it. She palmed me a hundred dollar bill and kissed me on the cheek before sending me into the world all alone. I knew a hundred dollars was a lot of money for her, and normally I would have refused, but the reality of what I was facing kept me grounded. I took it and walked away. There was nothing else I could do.
“Goodbye, Mrs. Randolph…” I said sadly as I looked over my shoulder.
“I’m sorry.” She mouthed as she closed the door.
I didn’t want to sleep on the sidewalk, but I knew I would need the money I had for food, so I chose a homeless shelter nearby to stay the evening. They didn’t ask a lot of questions and luckily they had a few cots open. It was filled with the dredge of humanity, the kind that we know exist, but like to pretend do not. It wasn’t the best place to stay, because there were plenty of drug dealers and rapists sleeping nearby. I woke up during the night to find a man standing by my cot just watching me. He made me feel so uncomfortable that I pulled my cot near the office in an effort to dissuade his stare. There was at least someone in the office who was tasked with keeping an eye on the place after hours.
“Don’t go, girl. I’d take good care of you.” The man licked his lips.
“Stay away from me!” I turned over in my bed and prayed he would go away as tears formed in my eyes.
One day turned into two and then that turned into a week. I did what I could to keep myself clean, but my appearance decayed every single day. I tried to find a job during the day, using the money sparingly, but there really wasn’t anything out there for a homeless girl who only had a couple of changes of clothes. One night, I got back to the shelter and found a commotion. The police were there and they were arresting one of the residents. I didn’t know him very well, but I figured out what he had done when the man walking out with him in handcuffs was Detective Crane. He seemed surprised to see me there, but he only gave me a nod of recognition as he continued marching his suspect towards the car. A few hours later, he walked in the front door again, and as the residents scattered at the sight of him, he walked straight to my cot.
Saving Little Amy (An Age Play Romance) Page 2