The 'N' Word, Book 1 (46 page)

Yes, something paramount had happened and he was uncertain as to what explosion and hysteria had taken place when he’d gone on leave. In the jumble of frantic voicemails, Mia stated she’d done something wrong, needed to speak to him, and that everything was falling apart. His most confusing yet intriguing patient was refusing to eat and had attacked another. Aaron, just like the incident that landed him there, had nearly beaten a man to death. His burst of violence that morning was described as “Blood curdling…”

He did not appear to know his own strength, but more than likely, he did. He simply no longer cared. A collapse in progress had occurred, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it.

I know Aaron, now. He would not have just done something like this… Something happened, set this in motion, and it had to have been more than a mere threat. No, someone messed with his mind. It is the one thing he guards, keeps protected at all times. Someone must’ve gotten inside, and he came undone… Damn it! What the hell is going on with Holman this week?!

There were other complaints, too. An attempted suicide by another inmate and patient of his as well, and a case regarding an esteemed female guard who was allegedly pregnant by an inmate. He shook his head in sadness and disgust, these emotions all rolled up into one like a spring roll, only far less tasty and definitely with no duck dipping sauce on the side. As he continued to drive, drawing closer and closer to the prison, he decided to first address Ms. Armstrong. Taking his phone in his hand, he dialed the number she’d called from.

“Ms. Armstrong, this is—”

“I know who it is!” Her voice trembled. “I called you at the prison but they said you weren’t there, but gave me your work cellphone. I’m sorry for calling so much… I’m just… never mind. Can you meet me right now? Maybe for coffee somewhere? Can we talk?”

“Mia, actually I’m on my way to Holman right now. Unfortunately, due to other obligations, I don’t have time to stop for coffee. I told Warden Huckleberry I’d be right in.”

“Can I meet you there then? At your office? I am not scheduled to come in today, but I need to if that’s where you’ll be.”

He looked at the time, winced, then sighed.

“Yes, I suppose that would be fine. I will be there in about fifteen minutes.”

“I can be there in thirty if I leave my house right now. Is that too late?”

He couldn’t help but notice the way her voice continued to break up, as if they were having interference of some sort. However, they weren’t. There was no static, no background noise. The sounds were familiar, particularly the resonances he’d heard all too often during heavy emotional discussions. No, the woman was breathing erratically, and a new wave of concern came over him.

She’s going to pass out if she doesn’t calm down…

“Mia, no, that’s fine. Look, I think you may be hyperventilating. Are you having trouble breathing right now?”

“…Yes, a little bit…I think, I think it’s the stress of it all.” Her voice continued to quake, as if the words were almost too hard to say. “I’ll be all right, just upset right now.” She sounded a bit more upbeat, as if trying desperately to pull herself together now that her condition was brought to her attention. “I had to call into work today, too. I never call in…”

“Okay, I want you to get yourself a glass of water and take some deep breaths. Whatever is going on, we can discuss it when you arrive, and please drive carefully.”

“Okay, thank you Dr. Owens. I will see you shortly.”

The woman disconnected the call. He placed his cell phone down and tried his damnedest to shake the uneasy feeling growing inside of him. It was as if a tiny, thorny seed had been planted in the pit of his gut, and the damn thing began to sprout snappish things that sliced and leaked painful secretions reminiscent of burning battery acid. Things had fallen apart, a storm had brewed, and it all occurred while he’d enjoyed a quiet and quaint bed and breakfast on the beach.

He’d needed the time off, the reprieve. There was something that ate away at the soul, bit by bit, by viewing men day in and day out on the verge of despair and giving up altogether.

There was something about seeing the Aarons of the world, tormented, distressed, and worn-out souls who’d been so emotionally damaged by their environment that they truly believed their internal dial was set on ‘normal’ when it was actually idling on ‘deviant.’

The problem with Aaron in particular is that, deep down, behind the violence, the misuse of power and energy, lived a genuine soul.

Notwithstanding, the man’s brain was a thing of beauty but his horrific ways were outlets, symptoms of hellacious torment. Dr. Owens had gotten used to his kind, or so he thought. No one completely got used to being a mere couple of feet away from such an individual… the way their energy sucked all of the love out of the air, and their cold eyes showed no mercy or concern for others. One could be easily fooled, fall prey to the notion that Aaron was simply a henchman for the Devil, a mad man running wild, when nothing could have been further from the truth. And it was this fact that caused him to have to get away for a couple of days, to take care of his own state of mind.

But then… the calls began to come in…

It was as if a plug had been pulled, the water drained from his good times. His good times were no longer his concern, though. Aaron, who rarely lost his cool, had come undone. He didn’t dare call the prison and attempt to speak to the man on the phone. No, he needed to be eye to eye with the man, watch him closely. On the phone, Aaron could delve into his arsenal of defense mechanisms, hide his true intent, but in person, well, they were simply beyond that…

I don’t know what hell is going on, if a full moon has come and made a mess of things, but I hope I can get to the bottom of this before something else around there explodes!

“
I
KNOW IT
wasn’t your fault.”

“Then why am I in your office?” Aaron folded his hands over his knee and winced from the bright lights in the place. He chewed his inner jaw, causing the flesh around his lips to twitch and the skin by his eyes to crease.

“You know the drill. You have to sign some paperwork.” Warden Huckleberry pushed the sheet gruffly before him, then laid down a bent, gnawed up pen before him. “Go on, sign it.”

He caught the guy looking at him in a curious sort of way. “What?” Aaron slowly picked up the pen, but kept his eye on the man.

“You need to see the nurse about the cut above your eye,” the man said grimly as he stared at it, seemingly looking at it from various angles. “Regardless, Hank
definitely
got the worse end of the stick.” He shook his head and turned away.

“He attacked me first.”

“I know,” Warden Huckleberry said under his breath. “Everyone knows what happened. But, do you know why?”

Aaron shrugged his shoulders, though inside, he definitely knew.

Orders from the higher-ups…
But he kept the shit to himself.

“You know.” Huckleberry leaned back in his seat. “You just won’t tell me. You need to speak up, Aaron. I’m tired of this shit.”

“Ain’t nothin’ to tell. Can I go now?”

“Yeah,” Huckleberry huffed and turned away from him as if once again completely repulsed by his mere presence. “You can go… Clark!” Huckleberry screamed out. “Pike is ready; take him back down.”

The guard re-entered the room and placed the handcuffs around Aaron’s wrists. He left out of the office, feeling heavy, full of weight he couldn’t carry and wasn’t even his own. The emotional draw and drain was simply too much; he was so far on E, not even fumes remained. Thoughts he didn’t want to think made the rounds of his mind. He tried to push the woman out of that realm, to move on fast and in a hurry, but her goddamn signature perfume was all over his shit! He’d made the mistake of rubbing her letters against things – in his attempt to make the woman live with him in his tiny space, fill up his steel-bar-fenced abode with her inner beauty.

Now, the smell nauseated him. He wanted her scent to die off, and her memory, too… but she simply wouldn’t, and his heart wouldn’t take no for an answer. His brain had filed for divorce, but his heart refused to sign the papers. He’d meant what he said to her, or at least he thought he did…

I don’t go back on my word… I just don’t! My word is my honor!

He regretted telling her to go away, he thought as he paced his cell. At last, the guard left him alone with his beleaguered thoughts.

She lied to me! Everything she said was probably a damn lie. I just want to know why. Why would she do this, play these games?! But what does it matter?

He sat down slowly on his cot. A few worn, metal coils poked painfully into his flesh…but he didn’t move. At that moment, he’d rather have felt pain than nothing at all…

It doesn’t even matter why she did it; it’s that she did it, period. I was honest with this woman, more honest than I’d ever been… I’d done things for her, things I’d never done before, just to make her happy…

He shook his head, closed his eyes and pressed them so hard shut, he was certain he’d soon have a headache to match the intensity of his heartache. His heart sank, sulked and stuttered. He felt like a damn fool… a fool in love.

For the first time in his life, he was completely connected to another human being, and it felt incredible. But that time in paradise had been short lived, for the honeymoon was yanked from his grasp before he had a moment to press his lips against hers, to bring her body close to his own, to be inside her, to be her other half in totality, to be… to be… just, to be.

This is fuckin’ stupid for me to keep goin’ around and around like this about it. I can’t be with her, I’m done with her, but I do want to let Dr. Owens know what happened. This pen pal shit should have never been done. It’s not a good idea, ’cause people lie for attention…

He lay down on the mattress and crossed his ankles as he looked up at the rectangular ceiling, reminiscent of a slice of Havarti cheese. Water stains in shades of light tan to murky brown covered the thing, along with peeling, off gray flecks of paint.

“Fuck her… fuckin’ liar. That’s all I seem to attract. I can’t stand liars…” he mumbled once again under his breath, still obsessed with the thought of her… and hating himself for it all the same.

Mia… your name is Mia… It’s not Melissa. It’s… Mia…

M.I.A. – Missing. In. Action.

Who are you, Mia? You’re missing… or maybe I’m just missing YOU…

He was quiet for a moment or two, and then… his stomach fell several floors and burst through the basement of things long gone and forgotten. He sat up straight as if he were a rock placed in a sling blade, ready to launch. His eyes glossed over and bulged, his body stiffened and heated like an internal inferno had been lit then combusted – and he found himself still battling with that same horrid headache. He was convinced his ears were going to trickle blood and he’d bleed to death.

No… it couldn’t be… NO!

… It couldn’t be the woman I saw lookin’ at me from over the fence! Her name was Mia according to Danny…

Okay now, you’re just bein’ crazy, Aaron! There’s no way! But… she’s a teacher…

Yes, a prison teacher.

Melissa teaches children…

Educated. Mia is educated… Melissa is educated…

Melissa can write… she writes beautiful things, nice poetry…

A lot of teachers can write well, I’d reckon…

But, the woman that teaches the other inmates how to read is…

Black…

Black…

Black…

What color are your eyes I asked her? Honey brown…

What color is your hair? She said dark brown too, and long… wavy… not straight…

Your titties… I wanted to know what kinda cookies she had. She didn’t say strawberry, didn’t say chocolate… She said caramel… caramel is light brown… I’ve seen naked black women in magazine and porn movies! Some of ’em, the lighter ones especially, had that color!

SHIT!!!

FUCK!!!

He fell to his knees and pulled out the hidden treasure trove from under his bed, once again ransacking his hoarded and squandered away delights. Her perfume wafted into his face, bursting his senses wide open and blinding him with pleasant memories now stomped into blood-boiling anger.

“She wanted me to talk to a black guy… Jesus!” he hollered out, sweat pouring down his face as he looked at each and every thing the woman had sent him, written to him, all over again.

Clues! Where are the other clues?!

Her sweet words stung going down…

I LOVE YOU, AARON…

“No you don’t!” He raised his fist in the air as he fell into a terror-driven state of delirium. “I’ve been talkin’ and lovin’ on her! I’ve fallen in love with ’er! I’ve been jackin’ off and havin’ wet dreams about a goddamn ni…. ni….!” He practically bit his fucking tongue in half trying to get the nasty, evil-drenched declaration to come out, to call her that vile word… to make it
stick
. It wouldn’t… it couldn’t. Something in his very soul had transformed his cold inner workings. His heart had turned coat, altered, changed, and it grabbed his damn vocal chords and shut them down!