by Opal Jones
Then it burst open. My body weight pulled me close to the door. I was only one wrong move and a seat-belt away from being tossed into the blurry forest. The girl cop screamed when she saw what was going on. Miller looked back, but he had to focus on driving.
I tried to loosen my cuffs. But the police must've had this happen before, because they weren't budging.
Let me rephrase that; they certainly moved. I tried to brace myself on the car floor, but it wasn't very easy. As I looked out the door, I saw Miller and female officer cautiously switching seats. Miller opened the passenger door and leaned out. He tried to grab the door, but it was too far out of reach.
Finally, with a lucky grab, he seized the door and slammed it shut. We were all breathing heavily. My heart bounced around in my chest like a bouncy-ball.
“Kid,” he whispered. “never do that ever again or I will let you fall.”
I didn't doubt him for a moment. The rest of the ride was a walk in the park after my attempted escape. A little over an hour later we arrived at the station.
The two other officers led me inside, took off my hand-cuffs, and instructed me to sit down on one of the chairs. They walked back to Miller and chatted. I didn't pick up anything they were saying, but I could tell Miller was still shook-up after the door incident.
I decided I was going to be here for a while, so I checked out my surroundings. It wasn't a half bad place, considering it was a police station. The chairs were arranged 7x7 and were pale blue. I looked around and took into account the people too.
One inmate was loaded to the muzzle. (He was drunk) He turned my way and gave me an evil glare with his beady brown eyes and turned up his nose. Okay, this dude was way creepy. I turned around, whistling a little tune, trying not to look conspicuous.
Another was a young woman. She hardly fit the “criminal” description. As soon as I thought that, the female cop walked up to her and had the woman stand up. Three guns, two knifes, and a canister of pepper spray were removed from her. Geez.
Soon after, Miller walked up to the front desk and talked with her. They started looking concerned. Miller walked around the desk and looked at the computer monitor in surprise. Simultaneously, they looked up at me. I grinned like an idiot and shrunk in my chair.
When I dared to look up again, Miller pointed to his jaw. I realized he was describing the whole X incident. The woman behind the desk typed something in the computer and shook her head. Miller crossed his arms and asked her something. The woman nodded grimly.
The female cop handed me an orange jumpsuit and told me to put it on in the restroom.
When I got into the bathroom, my first impulse was to try and escape. But there weren't any windows. There was a maintenance closet, but it was locked up tight. With regret, I put on the suit. Now I knew orange was defiantly not my color.
When I got out, Miller was waiting for me.
“This way please.” he said plainly.
I followed him into a tiny room. It contained a table and two chairs. Figures, I thought. Now I understand why people struggle against arrest.
I sat down and Miller followed the suit. At first there was some awkward silence, but then I broke the ice.
“There are cameras in the upper left-hand corner of the wall, on the archway of the door, and in front of me in the table.” To prove it, I tapped the camera on the table and heard a shallow 'clonk-clonk' in return. Miller closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“It doesn't matter where the cameras are. I just want to know how on earth you have such a large criminal record.”
He started to list my crimes; breaking-and-entering, robbery, assault, etc.
“Don't forget blackmail.” I smiled.
Miller glared up at me. “ This isn't funny kid. You think this is a joke? I don't know what I'm looking at here, you tell me. Are you just a kid with serious mental problems? Or is it something bigger?”
The last sentence hit me hard. Real hard.
“Something bigger.” I mumbled.
Miller looked at me, “What?”
I stared at him and I felt my canine tooth bite my lip.
“I need to look at your files. NOW!” I told him.
Miller shook his head. “If it'll make you feel better.” He lead me to a huge file room. I looked around. It took me a little while to find the file I was looking for, because you had to find the year, and then the sort of crime.
Let’s see, I thought. Arson, murder, theft. Ah! Unsolved crimes. I sorted through the files until I found the right one.
I handed him the file and he scanned through it. Miller shook his head.
“Sorry, kid.” he responded. “No one survived the fire. It was deemed an accident.”
“You didn't think that.” I whispered. “You never thought that, even to this day you don't think that.”
Miller's eyes widened. Then he looked up at me.
“Common.” he fast-walked to the interrogation room and sat me down.
“ Chris, I-I thought you had died in the fire.” he stuttered. “How was I supposed to know?”
“You could've called the school!” I cried. “You didn't check the basement. If you had just looked in the basement you would've known it as a homicide. Because I found them there. They were dead against the wall!” I put my head in my hands and quietly sobbed.
“And so you wanted to catch the “criminal” who started the fire?”
“No,” I shook my head. “I want to kill him.
Miller nodded. He looked like he was about to burst. His forehead was beaded in sweat.
“So all this time you've been committing crimes in the United States, didn't think about coming to the authorities, and eventually you started fantasizing about a girl you called Annabeth.”
“Two things;” I stated. “One, look what you guys called my family's murder. Unsolved crime? That draws the bottom line for what you guys think of “further investigation”. And two, Annabeth is a live person. I didn't even meet her until recently. Her family died the same way mine did.”
Miller leaned forward. “Listen up Chris. You've had almost no contact with people in years. Being as that is, and the fact that you probably made up Annabeth for your own sake, I see no reason why you can't be admitted into a mental asylum until your trail. Is that all right with you?”
I didn't care where they put me, but I was getting out of, well, wherever I was going to be.
“Sure.” I muttered.
Miller smiled. He got up and walked out. The third officer approached him and they discussed the video. When Miller mentioned something. The officer looked at him in surprise. Then he shook his head. He took the file from Miller.
“But he fits the description perfectly.” Miller argued.
“I thought we settled this back then. Even if it is him, that doesn't prove it was a homicide.”
“Fine, just let me take him to the hospital until his trial starts.”
The officer shook his head. “Only until trial starts, then we do a background check.”
Miller smiled and opened the door. I stood up and walked out. They let me change into my original clothes before I left. Then they led me out to Miller's cruiser.
“I don't have to remind you not to try and break out do I?” he smiled.
I laughed in return. The ride went smoothly all the way there. But I couldn't stop thinking about Annabeth. Heck, I didn't even know if she was alive. The thought bugged me until we reached the hospital.
It was a classic. It was called “Happy Thoughts”. Oh, boy. I looked at Miller to see if he was going the other way, but he pulled into the parking lot. I got out shaking my head. You have got to be kidding me. I thought miserably.
CHAPTER 7
Inside looked like a prison itself. The walls were barren and pure white. And the front desk had a single patron. Miller explained the situation and the man nodded and led me behind the door.
There were rows and rows of rooms. Each room had a person or two in i
t. One room had a man hugging his pillow and referring to it as Evelyn. Another room had an old woman doing jumping jacks and push-ups. This sure was the place I belonged.
At the end of the hallway, the man led me into a room with a teen in there. I was going to go out on a limb and say he was about 14. He had black hair and soft brown eyes. The teen was reading a novel on the top bunk of a bunk bed.
“Chris, this is Wallace. Wallace, Chris.” the man introduced.
Wallace turned around and smiled. “Thanks, Phillip. I'll take it from here.”
Phillip nodded with a smile and slid the glass door shut. He pulled out a key and locked it. I focused my attention on the room.
There was a bunk bed, a sink, and a plastic window up real high, so it was out of reach.
Wallace looked at me and asked what I was in here for. I told him that the police thought I imagined a girl.
“I'd like to imagine a girl.” smiled Wallace. “But seriously, you didn't imagine her and they think you did? That blows.”
“Yea.” I laughed. “What are you here for?”
Wallace sat up. He told me that he had gone to a summer camp a year ago. There he met a girl named Teri, who he hasn't had real contact since then. He relayed how they had evaded criminals after a mine on camp grounds, and how one of them had attempted to re-kidnap Teri.
“I lost it, took an officer's gun right out of its hold, and shot him. The other guy, Simon, went to jail and I ended up here.”
“Now that's something that blows.”
We laughed and talked about our experiences before. We talked until dinner at 7:00. Phillip took everyone's trays after half an hour.
Wallace let me have an iPod. I crashed out on the bottom bunk and flipped it on. Half the artists I didn't recognize. But I've been out in the middle of nowhere for four years, so I wasn't surprised.
Let’s see, I thought. Anja, MIKA, Bruno Mars, Colbie Caillet. I kept skipping until I hit a song called “The One That Got Away”. It was written by someone named Katy Perry.
“In another life
I would be your girl
We'd keep all our promises
Be us against the world....”
It never really approached me as a really great song. Until she hit the bridge.
“All this money can't buy me a time machine
It can't replace you with a million rings
I should've told you what you meant to me,
'Cause now I pay the price”
The last two lyrics buzzed around my head. My vision turned red. I lost it.
I threw the iPod against the wall in anger. Then I rammed my full body strength against the door. Wallace looked up from his book, rolled his eyes, and then hopped out of bed. I never noticed him behind me until he body-slammed me down. That snapped me out of my rampage.
“Go to bed.” Wallace said sternly.
“But, um-”
“Go to bed!” he repeated.
I got up and went to bed. Wallace hit the light switch and climbed on top. I was horribly embarrassed. It was a bad way to have Wallace see me; now a kid with anger issues. And just when I thought things couldn't get worse.
I must've dozed off soon after, at about nine 'o clock.
“Chris. Chris!” I jumped up and my head hit the top of the bunk.
Wallace grimaced. “Sorry about that.”
I was trying to wipe the sleep out of my eyes. The cracked iPod was next to me. I looked at the time; 1:26 a.m.
“You want out, and I'm giving you out.” Wallace lifted up his pillow and took out a screwdriver. He walked over to the sink and started to unscrew it from the wall.
“How'd you get a screwdriver in here?” I asked.
“Long story.” Wallace explained.
My head was still pounding. I made a lot of effort to finally get out of bed. When I got over to Wallace, I was shocked. He had entirely unscrewed the sink. He told me to help him and with our combined efforts, we moved the sink aside. I gasped.
A narrow, but large hole had been behind it the whole time. I looked at Wallace and the hole in shock. Wallace smiled at me.
“Follow me.” he instructed.
I followed his silhouette through the tunnel. It hardly fit the two of us. Chips of dust hit my face. The walls moaned and creaked and I was worried the tunnel would cave in on us.
Wallace stopped short and I almost ran into him.
“Stay here.” he whispered.
He crouched and continued on. I carefully sat down. Every minute crawled by like years. My eyes squinted when a crack of dim light flowed throughout the tunnel. Wallace came back and lead me forward.
Soon we reached the end of the tunnel. I grinned in absolute happiness. The hole had brought us to the outside of the asylum.
“I-how-what.” I tried to compose myself. “How did you know about that.”
“I found it a few days after I got here. But I knew I couldn't escape. And, frankly, I didn't want to. I hid it with a shrub and tried to keep it out of my head.”
I was at a real loss for words. “Just, thanks. It means a lot.”
“Don't mention it. Oh, I almost forgot.” Wallace pulled out four full clips. “I found them all out here the first time I came out here. Never thought anyone would need 'em.”
We said our goodbyes, I took care of some business, and he went back inside. I looked up at the moon remembering how, all those years ago, I believed my family was on the other side.
“Tonight.” I whispered to it. And I really do believe it spoke back.
I smiled and walked away into the moonlight.
******
This is a neat part in the book where I let Miller tell you about the morning of September 30th:
Being as it was, I was really uncomfortable leaving Chris alone in the asylum. The more I thought about it, the worse I felt. My thoughts consumed me until early morning, when Kellie ran up to me; her urban brown curls bouncing on her head.
“Sir,” she panted. “You're not going to believe this.”
I sat up. “What is it?”
“He's gone sir.”
“Gone? Who?” I stood up in a panic.
“The boy, Miller. Chris. The staff reported him missing just know and his roommate isn't cooperating.”
“Jesus.” I grumbled. “Meet me at the asylum in ten minutes or less. Oh, and tell that idiot that the real Chris Powell is out in the open again.”
Kellie nodded and ran to the sheriff’s office. I grabbed my car keys and jumped in my car.
The advantage of being a cop is that in emergencies, you can speed. In this case I really needed that advantage. The cars all honked at me, but I didn't care. All I was thinking was, Gotta get there, gotta get there.
I swerved into the parking-lot and grabbed my things. Kellie drove in right behind me.
“What do we know?” I asked.
“The front desk reported that Chris wasn't in his room at six 'o clock a.m and his roommate claimed he didn't know anything. But they did find a screwdriver under the top bunk pillow.”
We burst into the hospital and the receptionist was waiting anxiously for us. He lead us to Chris's room. Curiously, there was no sign of escaping. The roommate was reading a small novel on the top bunk.
“Well?” I asked. “Where’d he go?”
The teenager looked at me and put down his novel. He stuck out his hand. “Name's Wallace.”
“Officer Miller.” I responded blandly. I didn't make a move to meet his hand. “We know you helped Chris escape, it's not that hard to figure out.”
He shook his head and smiled. “Congrats, you've been promoted Major Obvious.”
I held my tongue. “Look, the kid's going to get himself killed if he keeps this up. All we want is for him to be safe.”
Wallace grinned and hopped down. He pulled up the pillow and grabbed a screwdriver, and then another one from the top pillow.
I looked back at Phillip, “You never bothered to check there befo
re?”
He shrugged. “Thought it was to obvious.”
I shook my head. Wallace walked over to the sink and started unscrewing. If this was going to help, count me in. I keeled down and joined in.
We picked up the sink and moved it aside. I was amazed. The sink had a small tunnel. Kellie pulled out a flashlight and shone it inside. No one was in there. I glanced at Wallace. He simply crawled in and waited until we had gotten in.
Kellie and I barely fit, but Wallace hardly had to crouch. It seemed like we walked for ages. After something like 15 minutes, Wallace stopped and told us to wait until he got the entrance.
I didn't trust him for a minute, but he was the only lead we had. It took a little while, but morning light found its way to us. He came back and we followed him out.
I was personally amazed. The entrance was perfectly masked by a berry bush. It was the perfect escape.
Kellie was talking to Wallace. But something caught my eye. I looked closer at the bush and found a winkled piece of paper. It was hardly eligible being written in charcoal or something. Did I mention it was in symbols?
Wow. I never knew a code like that. Kellie walked over to me and was unable to help.
“Wallace,” I asked. “Can you possibly read this?”
He walked over and looked at it in surprise. “Yea, I mean, a little. Anyone have a pen and paper?”
Kellie pulled out a sharpie and I handed him a notebook. Wallace sat down and started scribbling.
“Okay, it either says, 'I need to see the monkey at the free zoo, Fido.' Or 'If you want to find me, go to X's house. Chris P.' And I'm pretty sure it's that last one.”
“Excellent.” I said. “Common Kellie, we have to get going.”
We started to go back through the tunnel, but Wallace stopped me.
“Listen, I hardly know Chris. But I know he's telling the truth about everything. I can tell; its in his voice. If you don't want to believe two kids, then be that way. I'm just telling you the truth.”
“I trust your word, but I can't be sure.”
Wallace pulled out a piece of paper. “Um, this is kind of embarrassing. If you ever see a girl my age named Teri, can you give her this?”
I looked at it. It was just teen stuff, as far as I was concerned. “No problem.” I said.
He smiled and walked back through the tunnel. Kellie and I went back to our cars. We had a job to do, and I wasn't about to let anyone down.
CHAPTER 8
It was a perilous night: finding my way without Annabeth's guidance was pretty hard. I gave up after I saw the same clearing ten times. I pulled myself close. No jacket, no deer-skin blanket.