First Degree Innocence

by Ginger Simpson

“Why didn’t you ask for gloves, dummy?”

  “I-I didn’t know I could. I just assumed—”

  “That’s your problem,” Jet snapped. “You always assume. Why are you always so spineless?” With a dismissing wave, Jet went back to reading.

  Carrie rolled her eyes. She’d never met anyone as moody as Jet—all smiles one minute and the next, a blazing stare boring holes through you. Daring to invite the woman’s wrath, Carrie cleared her throat. “Is it too early for a shower?”

  Jet kept reading. “Push the button and tell them to unlock the door.”

  Carrie swallowed hard. Me? Push the button? And do what? Tell Ogden what to do? Visions of the guard’s beady eyes flashed through her mind. “Never mind, I’ll wait until later.”

  She crossed to the sink, ran cold water over her work-worn palms, and winced at the sting. With her eyes closed, she envisioned Seth’s face. Her lips stretched into a smile. She and Seth hadn’t enjoyed much interaction today, but who knew? Maybe tomorrow would be better. Regardless, being close to him stirred inexplicable feelings. She opened her eyes and stared at her wavy reflection in the tin mirror. Could she be wrong about trusting him?

  “I thought you were going to take a shower?”

  Carrie inhaled a gasp. “Geez, you startled me. I guess you didn’t hear me when I said I decided to wait.” She snared her towel from the end of the bunk and patted her hands dry, grimacing as the terry cloth snagged on her blisters.

  Jet swiveled and planted her feet on the floor, then shook her head. “You’re such a pussy. Why not just admit you’re afraid to push the button and ask for something?”

  “I am not!” Carrie’s outburst surprised even her. She took a calming breath. “I don’t have the same kind of pull around here you do. Just because I’m not comfortable ordering the guards around does not mean I’m-I’m… what you said.”

  “Okay, Okay, don’t get huffy about it. If you want a shower, I’ll take care of it. Besides, I could do with a shower and shave myself. My pubes are starting to itch.”

  The woman had no couth but was a constant enigma. Carrie raised her brow. “If you don’t mind me asking, why do you shave down there?”

  Jet shrugged. “Just a habit I got into with my old boyfriend. He said carpet munching wasn’t his idea of fun.”

  Carrie’s cheeks warmed. “I’m sorry I asked. That’s more information than I wanted.” She ran her hand over her own shin. “Can I get a razor, too?”

  “No problem. I’ll have Ogden get us clean towels and bring us each one of those cheesy plastic shavers. I guess they figure we can’t do too much damage with them as long as they make sure the blade is still in it when we turn it back in.”

  The exaggerated slashing motion Jet made across her own throat sent a shiver through Carrie.

  * * * * *

  Jet still languished in the shower, her body a mass of soap suds. Carrie dried her hair then wrapped herself in her towel. As she stood before the sink and fluffed damp curls into place, she glanced at her cellmate. “Why aren’t we subjected to having a guard watch over us while we shower?”

  Water streamed down Jet’s face. “I told you there are some things you are better off not knowing. Just enjoy the fact that you get more privacy when you’re with me. You don’t have any complaints do you?”

  Carrie shook her head. “None about not having a guard ogle me while I’m naked, but I have lots of complaints about even being here.”

  “Yeah, yeah, you’re innocent. I know that, but bottom line…you’re stuck.

  “Well, I don’t have to like it.” Carrie walked to the dressing area where her clean clothes waited.

  “When you’re dressed, wait up,” Jet called. “I have something for you.”

  Carrie slipped into clean underwear and pants then shimmied into her matching top. After pulling on freshly washed socks, she slipped her feet back into her rubber slip-ons. She sat on the bench, staring into her lap, and wondered what sort of surprise Jet intended to spring on her now.

  “Give me a minute, and I’ll be ready.” Jet sashayed past, wearing nothing but a towel on her head, her newly shaven pubic area at Carrie’s eye level.

  Carrie winced and turned away. “A little modesty goes a long way, you know.”

  “Oh, don’t be such a prude. I don’t have anything you don’t.” Jet quickly donned clean orange peels and splayed her fingers through her damp hair. “I’m ready. Are you hungry?”

  Carrie’s stomach rumbled. “I’m starved…even for the slop they feed us here.” She hadn’t eaten all day, forgoing breakfast in her eagerness to see Seth again.

  Jet led the way out into the hall. “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised with what I’ve had delivered to our cell. I arranged it while you were out this morning.”

  Picking up the pace, Carrie moved as fast as her flip-flops allowed. She reached their barred cubicle first then covered her gaping mouth. She lowered her hand and turned toward Jet. “How—”

  “Never mind. Just enjoy.”

  Carrie dashed for the McDonald’s bag on the edge of her bunk and tore into it. She widened her eyes at the Big Mac and fries she found inside. “Oh, I’ve died and gone to heaven, haven’t I?”

  “No, you’re still alive. This is just a perk to being my cellmate. Remember, I promised you good things.” Jet reached for the tall cup sitting on the sink and handed it to Carrie. “Coke?”

  Stuffing a fry into her mouth, Carrie nodded and smiled while ripping into burger wrapping. The sweet smell of fast food permeated the air and brought back memories of outside the prison walls. She sunk her teeth into the fresh sesame-seed bun, feeling sauce squirt into the corners of her mouth. Lettuce crunched and the wonderful taste of special sauce tickled her taste buds. She sighed.

  “Good?”

  “Heavenly. Who would have thought a hamburger—” She crammed another bite into her mouth.

  Jet chuckled. “There’s more where that came from, as long as you and I continue to see eye-to-eye on things.”

  Carrie’s food stuck in her throat, and she swallowed hard. She grabbed the cup from Jet and took a long draw from the straw, allowing the sweet liquid to wash down the clog. How much longer could she remain in Jet’s good graces? Carrie had no intention of doing anything that was going to extend her stay in this horrible place. If only she knew how to get out of her cellmate’s grasp.

  Hunger overrode her concern and she savored another French fry. Although not piping hot, it tasted great. She sank onto the edge of Jet’s bunk and took another bite of hamburger. This was definitely a perk, but not one worth risking her life. Still, she wasn’t willing to forgo the food she held. She peered up at Jet. “Thanks. This is a real treat.” Despite her mother’s teaching, Carrie spoke with a full mouth.

  * * * * *

  Thankful that Jet broke away in the recreation room and headed for another group, Carrie made a beeline for her friends. Rather than the warm greeting she expected, their icy stares focused on her new blue outfit.

  “Hey, ladies.” She greeted them as though she hadn’t noticed.

  Susanna, sitting at the end of the bench, fingered the hem of Carrie’s blouse. “So, what did you do that was special enough to earn these?”

  Feeling her cheeks warm, Carrie stepped back. “I’m not sure what you’re insinuating.”

  Susanna’s hand fisted on the table top and her eyes narrowed. “I’ve been working in that crummy kitchen for months, and I’ve yet to find the kind of freedom you found in a few friggin weeks. That’s what I mean.”

  “Would you mind scooting down?” Carrie smiled at Ruthie and lowered herself on the bench’s edge, opposite Susanna. “I didn’t do anything at all, but I think you probably already knew that.” She gazed around the group. “What was I supposed to do, tell Jet no? You all warned me not to cross her.”

  Helen nodded. “She’s right, we did. I’m not so sure I would have turned down a trustee position.”

  Susanna’s face soft
ened. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just jealous.” She reached across the table and grasped Carrie’s hand. “So tell us, how is it? Have you had a chance to talk to him, yet?”

  Carrie smiled. “Not really. I’ve only been out in the garden for one day, and believe me, it wasn’t all that much fun.” She held up her palms. “I’d forgotten how much blisters hurt. I haven’t had one since I played on the monkey bars in elementary school.”

  Susanna cast a cautious glance around the room then leaned toward Carrie. “Honestly, did you have to bargain with Jet?”

  Carrie shook her head. “Not yet, anyway.” She whispered so only those at the table could hear. “Jet has something up her sleeve, but I don’t know what. She won’t tell me until she’s ready. I’ve played along so far, but I’m worried about what to do when the time comes to sing or get off the stage.”

  Susanna patted her hand. “Be careful. Remember, she doesn’t play fair… or nice.”

  Carrie nodded. If only she knew how to get out of her cellmate’s grasp.

  Chapter Twelve

  The morning crept by and the sun turned relentless. Carrie, with gloved hands, hoed a furrow at the garden’s edge. Her back ached, but stealing an occasional glance at Seth’s handsome face made the pain worthwhile. Shaking off her silly school-girl notions, she concentrated on keeping her row straight.

  Someone tapped her on the shoulder. She jumped and turned.

  Seth stood with a large thermos. “Water?”

  Resting the hoe in the crook of her arm, she snared a paper cup from atop the container and filled it. Her breath hitched when her hand grazed his. She raised the receptacle to her lips and drank. Lowering the cup, she released a loud breath. “Thank you, I needed that.”

  “Take Five.” Another guard’s gravelly voice called a rest period.

  Other workers scurried to the fence, sat and rested against it. Carrie finished her water and refilled her cup. Her gaze sought some reaction from Seth. “I feel as dry as this dirt.” She turned the cup bottom’s up, drained it, then searched for the trash.

  With a smile that put her at ease and made the temperature even warmer, he held out a plastic bag. She tossed the wadded paper inside then fidgeted with the hoe, wondering why he affected her so.

  “It’s rest time.” He took the garden tool from her. “Why don’t you go sit for a few minutes?”

  She shook her head. “If I do, I’ll never get up again. This is exhausting work.”

  He glanced over his shoulder then back to her. “So tell me, Miss Carrie. What did you do to land in this place?”

  She shrugged. “Does it really matter?”

  He made another cursory scan and held the thermos in the air. “Anyone want water?”

  No one responded, and Seth turned back to her. “It matters to me.”

  “If only I could believe that.” She grabbed the hoe and started where she’d left off. Her heart fluttered. She wanted more than anything to tell him everything.

  His hand grazed her sleeve. “Did I do or say something to make you mad?”

  She locked gazes with him. “I’m not mad, just frustrated. We’re on opposite sides of the fence here. No one else believes I’m innocent, so why would I expect a guard to care?” She stopped whispering and turned her angst against the dirt, stabbing at it with the hoe.

  “Not all of us are your enemy.”

  Pausing, she leaned on the handle and took a long breath. “Really? Based on the treatment the women receive, I’d have to say I don’t believe you. Besides—”

  “Back to work!” Someone barked from across the garden and the other inmates jumped up.

  Murmuring voices drowned out the shuffling feet returning to the garden .Seth leaned a little closer. “We’ll talk again soon. Maybe I can change your mind.” He turned and walked away, leaving Carrie puzzled at his sincerity. Could she honestly trust him?

  * * * * *

  In the rec room, Carrie took advantage of Jet’s absence and pulled Susanna away from the group. The two huddled over a mock game of rummy.

  “Where’s your cellie?” Susanna fanned out her cards.

  “Ogden pulled her out earlier this morning and I haven’t seen her since.”

  “Maybe she got paroled.”

  Carrie rolled her eyes. “Fat chance. I don’t think the guards have that much pull.”

  Susanna drew from the stack in front of her. “Let’s talk about something else. Tell me how things are going in the garden.” She added a trill to the last word.

  “The work isn’t easy, but being outside the fence, if only for a few fleeting minutes, is worth the effort.”

  “What about Seth?”

  “He’s nice enough. Even asked me why I’m in here, but based on Ogden and her cronies in this place, wouldn’t I be stupid to think he’d give a shit?”

  “Why, Miss Lang! I don’t believe I’ve ever heard you use that word before.”

  “I’m learning a whole new vocabulary here.”

  Susanna glanced around then gazed back at her cards. “I know. This place has a way of changing you. If the suspicion and paranoia don’t get to you, something else will… but, I think you should tell him. What could being honest with him hurt?”

  Carrie swiped her free hand across her brow. “Just what I need—someone else to laugh when I declare my innocence,” she whispered.

  “Maybe he’ll be different.” Susanna discarded.

  “This is stupid!” Carrie threw her cards on the table. “We can’t even have a decent conversation without worrying that someone is watching or listening.”

  “Uh oh, someone is frustrated.” Susanna folded her cards and added them to the pile. “Let’s go outside and get some air. Maybe you’ll catch a glimpse of something and get into a better mood.” She winked.

  * * * * *

  Carrie waited in the kitchen for the garden work detail to assemble. She glanced at the grease-stained calendar on the wall, hardly able to believe she’d been here for almost five months. She’d watched the first harvest of the corn, witnessed the tomatoes plump and ripen, and yearned for the taste of sweet summer melon. Now she was part of the brigade harvesting fall vegetables, and she had yet to taste one morsel she’d had a hand in growing.

  The other trustees assembled and lined up behind Carrie. As usual, she returned their nods in a ritualistic morning greeting. Plates and utensils tinkled across the room as other inmates worked, cleaning up the kitchen. The mingled odors from breakfast hung in the air like an invisible menu.

  Working in the garden had lost its appeal. Carrie had taken Susanna’s advice and shared her story with Seth. It hadn’t been easy, with a word here and word there amongst watchful stares, but shortly after her declaration of innocence, he no longer headed the work detail. His leaving raised serious doubts. Had he asked for a transfer to get away from her? Or, maybe someone noticed them talking too much and removed him from garden duty. Regardless, he’d left without a goodbye and that hurt more than anything. Depression gripped her, dulling any chance of a good mood.

  Carrie’s focused on the wall calendar, specifically October 12. Being incarcerated certainly wasn’t how she planned to spend her twenty-fifth birthday. Last year, she’d grumbled about being alone. She shook her head at the irony. If only she had the opportunity for a “do over,” she’d snatch it. Her lonely apartment suddenly held major appeal.

  “Good Morning, garden trolls.” The guard’s voice startled Carrie from her thoughts. The mocking tone was annoying enough, but the freckled-faced woman rumbled her baton against the metal lockers next to the door then sauntered to the front of the line as if she required a queen’s respect. “Time to work, ladies.”

  The door open, Carrie hurried outside before her mouth got her in trouble. No longer the timid new kid in the cellblock, she often spoke her mind and paid for it. She’d already lost recreation time for a week and that sucked.

  Despite her thin jacket, fall air enveloped her in frosty arms and made her shi
ver. She hugged herself and marched in place. “Are we going to get heavier coats anytime soon?” Carrie’s breath turned to mist and hung in the air.

  The matron laughed. “You won’t need one once you get busy, Lang. Grab a bin and start picking.” She nodded at a stack of plastic tubs next to the fence.

  Carrie pulled on her gloves, grabbed a container and passed through the gate to the garden. She clenched her teeth to keep a response inside. “I see you have a nice thick coat on, bitch,” she mumbled to make herself feel better. Without some release, her head would surely explode.

  “Mornin’.” The voice struck a familiar cord. Carrie jerked around.

  Seth appeared from behind the shed. At his smile, the chill gripping her melted away.

  “Where have you been?” She knelt and plucked peas, keeping her head down. Her heart pounded with excitement despite trying to act indifferent.

  “On vacation.” He turned his back to her, but stayed close by so she could hear him. “Sort of a last minute decision… an old friend came to town.”

  What she wouldn’t give if she and Seth could sit down somewhere and talk—really talk. Share a long conversation. The only things she knew about him were tidbits she’d been able to snatch while here in the garden. He didn’t wear a wedding band, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t married. She didn’t have the guts to ask. Her stomach knotted at the possibility he had a wife—a family, but she pushed the thought aside.

  “Did you do anything fun?” Her thighs burned from squatting, but the cold air no longer bothered her.

  Seth walked to the end of the furrow next to her, waved to the armed guard in the tower, then came back to where she hunkered. He stood with his back to her, remaining ramrod straight and acting the role of guard. “Not really. Stayed in, had a few beers and talked about old times.”

  “Sounds fun to me.” She snared more peapods and placed them in her bin. “Where is your friend from?”