Then There Was You (10 page)

I sat solemnly at the dinner table that evening. I couldn’t get Chris’s journal entry out of my head. I could tell that the love he felt for Kaitlyn was strong. They were both so young, but love isn’t dictated by an age. Chris walked around Fairbanks a hollow shell. He needed to find healing in order to move forward. My heart ached for the brokenness I knew Chris was feeling. With an elbow on the table, I leaned my head down onto my hand and pushed my food around my plate with my fork.

“Jesus, Salem, you’ve got to stop bringing this stuff home with you,” Graham said as he slammed his fork down on the table.

“What do you mean?” I asked, jerking my head up to look at him. His blue eyes glared back at me below his furrowed eyebrows.

“Look at you. You’re a mess. You’ve barely touched your food. You’ve hardly spoken two words to me since you’ve been home—”

“You don’t get it, Graham.” I barked. “It’s not that easy to clock out at work and leave my emotions in my office.”

Graham pounded his fist on the table. “Why not? Why do you care so much for these kids? It’s affecting your family,” he grumbled.

I looked at his cold, unsympathetic expression. He was far too self-serving to be compassionate toward anyone who just needed someone else to care about them.

“For some of these kids, Graham, I’m all they’ve got. I see the system failing them every day. I hear what these kids are going through, what they’ve been through… it kills me. I care a lot about these kids. I’m sorry you can’t understand that!”

“I just wish you wouldn’t bring it home with you.”

“Yeah, well I wish a lot of things…” I quipped, tossing my fork onto my plate. Standing up, I left my dinner on the table and traipsed upstairs to my bed where I promptly fell asleep.

Within an hour, Graham opened the door. “She needs her bath,” he said, as he carried Alexis into the room and laid her on the bed.

I groaned, rolled over, and put the pillow over my head. Can’t he do something on his own for once?
Dammit!

Alexis kicked and squealed next to me.

“Come on, sweet girl,” I said as I stood up and scooped her into my arms. “Let’s go get ready for another sleepless night…”

As I ran the water for Alexis’s bath, I could already hear the announcers for the Broncos game on the television in the living room while the popcorn cracked and sizzled in the microwave.
Must be nice.

Officer Blevins kept a pretty tight rein on the boys. They always walked in a single file line down the corridor on their way to the recreation room. Thankfully, I worked in a cell block that didn’t have to keep the kids in shackles. In military fashion, you could hear the boys shouting “Yes, sir” and “No, sir” as they echoed down the hall. Occasionally, the group leader would begin cadence, and the others would follow suit.

I was walking toward my supervisor’s office when I passed the boys in the hallway. An ensemble of gray jumpsuits and black, slip-on clogs lined the wall.

“Mrs. H!” a few boys bellowed, elbowing each other as if to awaken their sleeping hormones.

“Hi, boys,” I answered, throwing my hand up and waving.

“Wanna come shoot hoops with us?” Greg asked. “We’re headed to the rec room.”

I never passed up an opportunity to shoot hoops. I really missed my high school varsity basketball playing days. “I might join you boys in a few minutes. I have an errand to run first.”

I needed to get the details of a new kid who would be entering Fairbanks within the next few hours.

“Okay, Mrs. H, we’ll see you later.”

I glanced down the line. Malik, DeAndre, Greg, Toombs—all good kids. A little misguided, but deep down, they were all sweethearts. They just need a little push to make better decisions in their lives. Chris brought up the rear. He wore the state-issued black beanie on his head. Looking at me with his animated eyes, he nodded once in acknowledgement and flashed his signature smile. A deep dimple creased his cheek.

“Hey, Mrs. Honeycutt,” he said with an affable tone.

“Hey Chris,” I replied, matching his amiable expression.

A heartbreaker—that’s the term I’d use to describe Chris. Deep, soulful eyes. Tan skin. Squared jaw. Confident, but not arrogant, swagger. Smooth baritone accompanied by unparalleled musical talent. Everything that melted girls’ hearts. One day, some girl, if not Kaitlyn, was going to be swept right off her feet, and I could hardly blame her. I just hoped that we could make headway with his reform, so when he re-entered the general public the decisions he’d make wouldn’t land him right back at Fairbanks. If I thought anyone was capable of reform, it was Chris. I knew why he did what he did to land himself back at a correctional facility. Quite honestly, while I knew there were other ways to handle that situation, I could certainly empathize with his decisions.

“See you in a few,” he said with a smile that reached his eyes.

Nodding, I gave a little wave. “Okay. See you in a few.”

I grinned at the boys and made my way down the hall to my supervisor’s office.

“Damn, Mrs. Honeycutt is sexy,” I heard DeAndre whisper as I walked away. “Look at that ass. She’s a MILF if I ever saw one.”

“Hell yeah,” agreed another guy, whose voice I didn’t quite recognize. “I bet she’s good in bed.”

Chris put them in their place. “Shut up, asshole. Have some fucking respect.”

“Yeah, dumbass. Show some respect,” Greg echoed.

I ignored the exchange and kept walking toward Val’s office. Working with a bunch of hormonal teenage guys, I accepted the fact that inappropriate comments just came with the territory. I didn’t base my self-worth on the antics of a few pubescent boys.

“Good morning, Salem,” Val greeted me when I popped into her doorway.

“Good morning, Val. I just came to get the details of our newcomer.”

“Oh, great,” she said, as she pushed her glasses up onto her nose and began shuffling through some papers on her desk. “Here it is.” She handed me a folder.

I opened it up and glanced at the picture. A cute kid with freckles looked way too serious for his age in the mugshot. “Wow, he looks young.”

Val nodded. “Twelve years old.”

“Oh my…” my voice trailed. “Assault. Robbery. Drug Paraphernalia.”

Val nodded empathetically. “They seem to get younger and younger these days.”

“No kidding. When does he arrive?” I asked.

“A little after lunch,” she replied.

“Okay, so I have some time to join the guys in the rec room. I’ve learned that we have some of our best group therapy sessions when we’re shooting hoops.”

“Glad to see you’re getting your guys to open up. How has it been, coming back after maternity leave?”

A sharp stab of guilt shot through my conscience. “Fine. Everything has been just fine,” I lied.

No, really. I’m fine. Really
, I tried to convince myself. Never mind the fact that Alexis screamed in the backseat all the way to daycare this morning, and my nerves were shot before I’d even finished my first cup of coffee.

Val smiled, completely fooled. “Great! Glad to hear it. Okay, well I’ll see you at intake a little after lunch then.”

“Sounds good. See you then.” As I stepped out of her office, the door clicked behind me. I leaned against the cold, beige wall, out of her sight.

Taking a few deep breaths, tears formed in my eyes.
I’m fine. Everything is fine. Nothing is wrong. I just need to get back to the boys. They’re expecting me.

I walked to my office and dropped the folder on my desk. Stepping out of my heels, I slipped into my sneakers.
Time for a little mindless activity. Get your head in the game, Salem. Literally and figuratively.

I waited for the guards to slide open the big metal door to the rec room. It was a lot like a high school gymnasium, but without bleachers. Just a big open room with basketball hoops.

“She’s here!” I heard Malik shout as the door buzzed, indicating that it had been unlocked.

Officer Harris slid the door open. “Here you go, Mrs. Honeycutt.”

“Thanks,” I said, stepping into the room. The echoes of the basketballs bouncing off the walls and the squeaking shoes against the newly polished floor rang in my ears.

“Think fast!” Malik said as he tossed the ball in my direction.

I caught it and tossed it back immediately. “Think faster,” I joked.

Malik laughed and dribbled off toward the basket, shooting a layup. I rebounded the ball and shot one myself.

“Nice shot!” DeAndre congratulated me from across the room. He ran toward us and tried to steal the ball from Malik.

“No way.” Malik darted away from him, passing the ball to me.

I took a shot. “Whooo! Nothing but net!” I shouted the instant the ball swooshed through the hoop.

“Wow, Mrs. H!” Malik sounded impressed. “You got skills.”

Before long, a little game of three-on-three started.

We were all playing, laughing, sweating, and having a blast. Thank goodness I’d worn my slacks instead of the skirt that I’d been considering that morning or I wouldn’t have been able to join them. I loved hearing the boys cut up; it was such a refreshing feeling. Given their situation, watching them let loose and really enjoy themselves was such a pleasure.

I sank another three-pointer over Toombs’s guarding hands.

DeAndre pointed at him and covered his mouth, feigning shock. “Oh shit!” he teased, doubling over in laughter. “Toombs just got schooled by a
girl
!”

Toombs grimaced, taking two long strides across the floor toward DeAndre. “What the hell did you just say, punk?” Clenching his fists by his side, his stony expression exuded bottled rage.

Toombs was a big guy—a kid that no one dared to cross. Toombs was actually his last name. His first name was Shaun, but no one ever called him that. Toombs seemed to fit his personality better anyway—quiet and somber. He wasn’t the shy kind of quiet, but the dangerous kind. He even kinda freaked me out sometimes.

“Hey, Toombs,” I said gently, trying to diffuse the ticking time bomb, “it’s okay. No big deal. He was just teasing. Right, DeAndre?” I looked at DeAndre pointedly, hoping he’d follow my lead.

Fully aware of the consequences, but having learned early not to let guys bully him around, DeAndre ignored me and stood his ground against Toombs. “That’s right, asshole. I said you just got schooled by a girl.”

Other boys began surrounding us. They knew a fight was about to break out, and a lot like the adult prison environment, certain boys created certain alliances. They protected each other like tight-knit gangs.

“Come on, guys.” I tried another approach. “You don’t want segregation, do you?” Segregation was the worst kind of punishment in juvie. It was a ward where disorderly inmates were kept. They spent twenty-three hours a day, alone, in a small cell, with no interaction. It was maddening, and most guys who spent time in segregation vowed never to do anything that would send them back there again.

But, Toombs’s anger had already passed the point of no return. His twitching jaw and flared nostrils were an indication that things were about to get ugly. I put my hand on his shoulder in an effort to calm him down.

“Shaun Toombs!” Officer Blevins’s voice boomed from across the room as he stalked toward us in authoritative fashion. “Stand down now!”

“Don’t do it, Toombs,” I said soothingly, but it was too late.

Toombs jerked from beneath my consoling touch, and swung his fist, narrowly missing me and hitting DeAndre square in the jaw.

Suddenly, as if I were in the agitation cycle of a washing machine, I was being pushed and shoved and jerked around by all of the other guys, who had immediately jumped into the fight.

Boys were throwing punches and spewing profanities, while I felt like I was caught in the middle of rioting mosh pit, getting jostled and stepped on like a rag doll.

An elbow connected with my head and I tumbled to the ground. Intense pain immediately pulsated across my face. Stomping feet and kicking legs closed in around me. I couldn’t stand up. I was tangled in a sea of angry limbs. Out of nowhere, a set of hands grabbed me and pulled me to safety, away from the calamity.

As soon as I was placed gently on the ground and out of harm’s way, I glanced up.