by Rebecca Sky
‘My love, what have I done to anger you? Tell me, and I will make this right. Please, my love.’
He sounds like my father. They’re always the same – desperate, weak, no longer themselves.
The officer is talking to me, saying words I can’t hear over the cries. I’m afraid if I don’t answer soon, I’ll be back in Officer Tucker’s iron grip.
Marissa spins around, her hair whipping past my face. ‘Would you just shut up?’
Nice-shoes stops, slumping to the ground, arms still clawing through the bars for her. Officer Ammon’s mouth hangs open and his eyes bulge through his thick red frames. Nice-shoes was probably a handful, a loud handful. I can’t imagine it was easy getting him into the cell. I know what Dad’s like when Ma’s not around.
Ammon pulls on his collar and takes a deep breath before continuing. ‘As I was saying, Benjamin Blake has been acting like this since his run-in with you.’
‘Run-in?’ Marissa asks.
Ammon motions to the monitor. ‘No need for the charade. I was the reason he was at the park. I’d arranged for Benjamin to meet me there, and as I arrived I witnessed your altercation. Caught the whole incident on my phone. I brought him back for questioning but it was clear he wasn’t going to cooperate, so we let him go this morning and he led us right to your school.’
‘I would like to call my mother,’ I say, trying to keep my voice level. ‘We’re supposed to get one call.’
‘That’s being arranged.’ Ammon turns to the officers holding us. ‘Empty their pockets, take their cellphones, take off their cuffs, then place them in the cell next to Blake. When you’re done, join me in the Chief’s office.’
Tucker’s strong hand wraps back around my arm.
I’m worried about my entire future and Marissa cares more about her clothes. She’s leaning against the back of the cell, scrubbing a dirt smudge from her skirt, instead of helping come up with a way to get out of this mess.
‘A cop was filming us!’ I shake my head. ‘I told you not to turn him, but do you ever listen?’
‘Shut up, Rach. Don’t say another word.’ She glances around like she’s worried someone will hear.
‘You afraid you’ll get caught? Look at us, Marissa. We’re already caught.’
She stops scrubbing and sighs, watching me pace back and forth on the left side of the cell – on the side as far from Ben as I can get.
‘How was I supposed to know?’
I narrow my eyes and continue pacing.
‘My love?’ Ben pushes his face so far between the bars that his eyes and lips pull into tight slits. ‘Is there anything I can do to make you happy?’
If we weren’t in jail because of him, I’d be laughing at the scene. ‘Oh, you’ve done enough,’ I reply for Marissa.
‘Leave him alone.’ Marissa glares at me before turning to the guy plastered between our cells. ‘And you can stay quie—’
The blue steel door opens, and Marissa holds up her hand, signalling for us to keep our mouths shut.
Ammon appears in the doorway. His sweater’s half untucked and he’s putting on a fresh set of white gloves.
‘Can we have a phone call now?’ I ask, as Marissa glares at me.
‘That is why I’m here. You,’ Ammon points to Marissa, ‘go to the back and remain by the wall. I’ll let your friend make the first call.’
Marissa jabs her finger into my collarbone. ‘You better call Mother Superior.’
I’m done following her lead. It got us here. Still, I nod – it’ll do no good arguing with her.
Ammon guides me out and slams the steel door behind us, locking it with efficiency. His bony fingers wrap around my arm, gripping tight. It hurts, but at least I’m not in handcuffs again.
Ben moves to the back, next to Marissa, and continues clawing through the bars as Ammon leads me past the row of cages and out of the cold concrete and steel room. As soon as we exit through the large blue door, there are photos of the officers and framed newspaper articles hung in neat rows down the halls. It’s less cold than the cells, but every bit as intimidating. There are officers everywhere. We pass one officer guarding the door to the holding room, and Ammon directs me through the maze of corridors, stopping to signal through a glass window for entrance into a secure room with a phone and table. A buzzer goes off, and the door clicks open. Ammon tests the handle then pushes me inside.
‘Make it quick.’
The door closes with a metallic screech, leaving me to myself.
I go over to the phone and pick up the receiver. My fingers shake as I punch in the numbers to Ma’s cell.
She answers right away.
‘Hello?’
‘Ma, hi—’
‘Rachel, thank the gods. I just got off the phone with the school. Are you girls all right?’
A sense of relief fills me. I find myself taking the first real breath since being arrested.
‘Where are they holding you?’ she asks.
‘We’re at the precinct on East 67th.’
‘I’ll be there soon.’
My mind fills with images of Ma in handcuffs, being shoved into the last empty cell, and my heart hammers away.
‘Listen, Ma, don’t try anything … anything funny. OK?’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.’
‘Ma, don’t …’ The static blips of a one-sided conversation fill the receiver.
Ma should be here by now. Instead I’m left alone in the cell beside Ben, as Marissa’s away making her call. Our cellphones are bagged on a desk next to our school stuff, just out of reach. If only I had long enough arms.
I take off my blazer and use it as a cushion on the cold concrete floor. Undressing draws my attention to my upper arm. A bruise is on its way. I rub the spot and think back on the events of the day.
Ben slumps against the bars, his head leaning on his fist. He’s saying Marissa’s name over and over. I take in his stylish clothes: white v-neck T-shirt, under a denim jacket that’s slightly worn around the cuffs and collar, like someone who takes care of his clothes but wears them hard. There’s something about him, something unexpected. I can’t figure out what it is, and I look, hard, from his bright blue eyes, his well-groomed dark brown hair, to his athletic form. My stomach tightens, and I brush it aside as nerves.
An eerie quietness overtakes the cells as he stops calling for her. He lowers his head into his hands, and after a few moments looks up, catching me watching him.
I pretend to adjust my seat, so he doesn’t think I was staring.
Despite my best efforts, my eyes keep wandering towards Ben. The next time I look his way, he shifts and straightens his back.
‘Why am I here?’
I’m not sure if he’s talking to me, or just out loud. ‘Sorry?’
‘Why am I locked up?’ He stands and walks to the side of the cell nearest the door. ‘Hello?’ he calls.
Marissa’s power must’ve run out already.
When he gets no response, he comes closer to me. ‘Why are my shoes muddy?’ His voice is husky but self-assured. It surprises me after having listened to hours of his whining.
‘You don’t remember anything … or anyone?’ I lean forward, hugging my knees.
‘I get these flashes of a beautiful girl, and then nothing.’ He rubs his hand through his hair. He seems upset, confused, then suddenly his eyes light up with understanding. ‘I was meeting a man named Ammon to talk about becoming an officer, and then …’
Then Marissa got to you. I quietly watch him try to process what happened.
He looks back up. ‘And why are you here? They don’t normally put kids in the cells.’
I cross my arms and lean forward. ‘Kids? I’m sixteen.’
He holds up his hands and smiles. ‘I didn’t mean anything by it.’ Something about the way he is without Marissa’s power, that confidence, the strong posture, something about that draws me in. ‘But seriously, why are you here? Did you steal from the Girl Sco
uts?’
I can’t tell if he’s joking or not. Either way, I’ve never had a guy talk to me like this. Granted, the guys I’m around are usually turned. But after today’s events, I don’t really feel like joking.
‘I’m here because of you.’
‘Me? That doesn’t make any sense.’ His blue eyes dart across my face, studying, analyzing, then something registers in them. ‘Have we met before?’
I shrug and try to look natural.
‘Everything’s blurry. I don’t remember … I couldn’t have committed a crime during a blackout,’ he mumbles and paces. ‘Could I? I wouldn’t. Becoming an officer is all that matters to me.’
He says officer like he owns that word, and it reminds me how far I am from my dream of being a social worker. Something about that gets under my skin.
‘You mean Boy Scout not officer, right?’
He turns, caught off guard, fighting back a grin. ‘Boy Scout?’
‘That’s what I said.’
He leans on the bars at the other side of the cell. ‘Are you always like this?’
‘Like what?’
‘On the defence.’
I jerk back. He’s right, I am on defence, more often than I’d like. We’ve only been talking for a few minutes and somehow he sees right through me. I sputter out, ‘Only when I’m in a jail cell.’
‘I see.’ He laughs and it almost makes me want to smile.
I’ve never been around a guy like this before. It’s refreshing to be challenged and to challenge back. It’s almost enough to distract me from my current predicament and I’m not ready for this feeling to end. ‘How old are you, anyway?’
‘Seventeen.’
My smirk stretches over my cheeks. ‘Legal drinking age is twenty-one. For someone so concerned with his record, you shouldn’t—’
‘I would never drink!’ His head snaps to me, those blue eyes darkening.
Something about how he says those words catches me off guard. It strikes me that there’s a sadness to him. My eyes flick back to those frayed cuffs and I pull my feet closer to my body. Maybe I’m reading him the wrong way. ‘Sorry, I … I was just trying to lighten the mood.’
He’s about to say something when the door to the holding room bursts open and Marissa hurries in, followed by my ma.
‘Quickly.’ Marissa waves her over to the cell.
‘What’s going on?’ Ben asks.
‘Ma?’ I jump up.
‘No time to explain,’ Ma rushes, fumbling the keys in her gloved hands by my bars. ‘You have to trust me.’ The lock clicks over and she throws the door open.
There’s no person I trust more. But I don’t move. My legs stay cemented to the ground. My heart hammers so fast there’s a ringing in my ears. ‘What did you do?’ I manage, my eyes locked on the keys in her grasp.
‘Rachel, please?’ Ma waves me out. ‘Are you coming?’ Her eyes fill with worry; she sees my turmoil, the churning indecision. If I leave the cell without police permission, I’ll be in even bigger trouble. I’ll be kissing any chances of becoming a social worker goodbye. And she knows how much that means to me, she’s been there for the years of my declared hatred for the Hedoness ways. By asking me to trust her she’s basically asking me to choose the Hedoness life, and one on the run at that.
I can only imagine what Ammon and Tucker would do to me if we got caught.
My breaths are thick, panicked gulps. I can’t seem to get enough oxygen into my lungs. Marissa says something but all I hear is a mumble through the ringing in my ears. Ma reaches in and grabs my arm, tugging me hesitantly – I imagine Joan of Arc riding into the precinct and slicing her way to rescue me. It’s not much different from what Ma’s doing.
Her gloved hand outstretches, opening and closing as if willing my fingers to find hers. It’s jail or Ma. My legs waver a hesitant step forward. It feels as though the fabric of Ma’s saree is wrapping around me, pulling me towards her.
I step out of the cage.
‘Oh, hell no.’ Ben backs away from the bars. ‘Help!’ he yells. ‘There’s a jailbreak in progress.’
Marissa pauses, finally noticing Ben’s change.
‘He doesn’t remember,’ I say.
She ignores me and walks over to his cell. ‘We’re bringing you with us – isn’t that what you want?’
His eyes narrow as he takes her in, trying to put the pieces of this puzzle together. ‘You. I remember you.’
Marissa smiles. ‘Of course you do, my love.’
‘ “My love?” Man, I don’t know what the officer did to me, but when I find out …’ He stops, realizing there’s more going on. ‘What are you doing?’
Marissa shrugs and flips a lock of hair over her shoulder. ‘We’re sort of starting a new relationship.’
I’d roll my eyes at her, but his bewildered look is good enough for the both of us.
‘I get that you think that.’ He lets out a long breath. ‘I don’t remember any of it. But I mean here …’ he accentuates, pointing at my ma, who’s trying to open his cell. ‘What are you doing here?’
She leans into Ma. ‘Maybe I should just turn—’
‘Don’t even think about it,’ I say.
Ma glances at me, then turns back to Marissa. ‘Do it.’
Before either Ben or I can react, Marissa reaches through the bars and pulls his lips to hers. He’s stunned still at first, then he jerks back. She muffles a scream in her arm and presses her head. He slides down the bars to the floor, body shaking wildly.
This is the second time I’ve seen my best friend steal his will this week, and it doesn’t get any easier to stomach.
Minutes pass. I glance between the door and him, worried we’ll get discovered. Finally, he stops shaking. ‘My love?’ he says, looking up through the steel, eyes returned to the glossy haze.
I miss the perceptive boy already.
‘Yes, now come on.’ Marissa opens the door and grabs his arm, dragging him out.
‘My—’
‘Don’t say another word until I tell you to.’
He nods and reaches for her hand. She lets him take it, and I can’t help noticing how good her delicate fingers looked laced with his work-worn ones.
I grab Marissa’s purse, my books and the bags with our cellphones and fall into line. Ma stops and motions us back against the wall. ‘Shhh,’ she says, reaching for the handle.
Before she has a chance, the door swings open and Ammon walks in. My heart races, the bruise on my upper arm pulses.
‘What on earth?’ He pauses, taking in the four of us lined up along the wall, his eyes stopping on my ma as he reaches for something behind his back. ‘Mrs Patel, I presume?’ He tries to look brave, in control, but his shaky knees give him away.
Ma lifts her chin and steps forward, slipping one of her blue gloves off. ‘You will not unhook your gun.’
Ammon’s hand stays behind his back and he steps away slowly.
‘Let me rephrase.’ Ma pounces forward with a predatory grace, shoving him into the bars. I startle, pressing my body as far from hers as possible. Marissa lets out a screech as Ma grabs Ammon by his neck. The man’s eyes roll back and his body convulses. For a moment I forget she’s my mother and my entire body fills with fear, my instincts telling me to run from the monster before me. I’ve never seen her use her power before. And now I wish I never had. My mind can’t separate the gentle hands that once comforted me as a child from the hands that now squeeze the will from a man.
She replaces her glove and waits the agonizing minutes for him to stop, glancing at the door every now and again to make sure no one will catch her in the act. The rest of us try to calm our breathing, still pressed into the wall. It seems like for ever before Ammon slumps down the bars, eyes filled with adoration.
‘My lov—’
She holds up her hand. ‘Stop. Tell me, what evidence do you have on the girls?’
Ammon pulls a cell phone from behind his back, showing us that the camera’s c
urrently running. Not a gun then, just a phone. ‘I have footage of this, and them with Benjamin Blake, my love.’
She pinches the bridge of her nose. ‘You may only call me Mrs Patel. Not my love, not darling, nothing but my name. Can you delete the footage?’
‘Yes, my – Mrs Patel.’
It’s surprisingly isolating to stand against the cold concrete wall and watch my mother manipulate an innocent man. I step closer to Marissa, until our arms are touching, and thankfully she doesn’t move away. Because right now, I need whatever comfort I can get.
‘Good,’ Ma continues. ‘I want all surveillance cameras off, and any footage recorded today erased. That includes your phone. Do you understand me?’
‘Yes, Mrs Patel.’
‘Do it now.’
He pushes off the floor and wanders over to an older computer monitor on the desk where they had put our stuff. Ma watches over his shoulder as he logs in to the security system and taps in his password, overriding the footage.
‘Does this please you?’ he asks.
‘It does, very much.’
This makes him smile, big.
‘And now,’ she says, ‘I will be taking the girls and Benjamin with me. It brings me great sadness to see them behind bars.’
Ammon falls to his knees before Ma, clutching her saree.
‘Forgive me, I did not mean to upset you. I will release them any time you want. Please don’t be sad.’
‘Stand up and act strong.’ Her words are firm, and they snap him out of his trance.
He scrambles from his knees and stands before her, awaiting her next command.
‘Good, I prefer you much better when you are not grovelling.’
He nods once, hard.
‘If anyone asks, tell them the girls are innocent and you arranged for their release. Make sure you tell them – this is your command.’ She pauses to flash a smile, which makes his eyes light up. ‘This is your command, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. It is.’ He clears his throat, deep, meaty.
‘Good. What is your direct phone number?’
He writes it down and hands her the paper which she folds and tucks in the blouse of her saree. ‘And one more thing,’ she says, smiling. ‘Tonight when you go to sleep, I want you to forget you ever met me and you will continue to forget unless I call on you again. Are we understood?’ Her gaze slices into his and a small smile slips over her lips. It takes everything in me not to grab Marissa’s arm for support.