Redemption

REDEMPTION         

Click.

Pause.

“It’s time.”

Sigh.

“Let’s go.”

Not yet.

Metal scrapes on concrete, chains biting fresh wounds in my ankles. My head nods, heavy with the sleep I stole before sunrise. I blink, chapped lips pursed against crooked teeth. I take a breath, my lungs ballooning inside my ribcage, the skin stretched taut across my bones.

“Get up.”

I turn my head, my pupils meeting yours like magnetic poles. 

Gulp.

A bead of salty sweat rolls into your too tight collar. 

Grimace.

My shadow flickers on the crumbling brick, dancing in the yellow of the overhead bulb, dry mouth swallowing.

“C’mon,” you chide, “Don’t wanna keep ‘em waiting, do we?”

The shackles clank as I shuffle to the entry, head low, jaw set, shoulders hunched, heels dragging.

Long mile. Same one you walked on my sixteenth time round the sun.

I remember stuffing my feet into your worn-out loafers, and tottering out to the front porch through the metal screen door. The striped couch would groan beneath my slight weight, rusty springs creaking, the wooden porch planks worn out by hours of scuffing, waiting for you to climb those steps after a double shift.

Turns out those shoes were too easy to fill.

“Easy, son.” A man in white appears at the end of the hall. I raise my wrists, then raise my eyebrows. He shakes his head once. “I’m afraid not.”

He makes no effort to hide the needle. It’s prepped with a cocktail that will curdle my blood before my heart stops beating, pumping the poison to each of my organs to ensure equal opportunity.

You give me a wink and disappear. I turn to face the window, searching for blurry features blunted by broken promises and lost hope. 

“Can they hear me?”

“The box is soundproof, but there’s a mic switch by the door. It’s locked.”

No kidding.

Gram sits front and centre behind the plate glass. She stares at the set of keys hanging from the warden’s belt loop, weighing her options. She eyeballs you as you loom next to her, your hulking form towering over her slight frame. “Sit, ya big lug,” she commands. You sit.

I search for my beautiful Jewel inside the box, but there’s only Gram and now you.

I catch a glimpse of the chain slung around your neck before a black hood is thrust over my head, and I gasp, my fingers clenching, clawing at the cuffs. 

Gram told me that chain was mine. Why are you wearing it again?

“Be still,” a voice breathes in my ear, “You’re making it harder than it already is.”

My heart thuds in my throat, squeezing the trachea with each pulse. Blood roaring, my knees buckle into the concrete floor. 

The prick of the needle stabs the jugular. I crumple.

I can hear Jewel’s voice saying my name, but she’s too far away to answer.

         *****************************************

“He’s gone.”

Latex smacks flesh.

“I’ll give you a moment.”

Jewel strokes the shock of blonde curls resting on the pillow. A small hand tugs at her sleeve.

“Momma, who is he?”

“Just someone I used to know, baby. Come on; it’s time to go.”

Jewel knows her boy still brims with questions, whose answers will hurt more than help. 

         *****************************************

“Give it back.”

Gram holds her hand out and you place the chain in her palm. She passes it to me.

“Put it on before you lose it.”

I hook the link inside the clasp, my hands reaching behind me, fumbling. I’m sitting on the other side of Gram, uncuffed.

“Where’s Jewel?”

Gram doesn’t answer. I glance past her at you, and our eyes meet once more.

“Just be glad you got a seat,” you growl.

The chain is heavy on my collarbones, heavy and hard. 

And now, we wait. 

*****************************************

Momma holds my hand real tight as we weave around the beds on wheels in the maze of hallways and out into the moonlight. I close my eyes and try to picture the face of the man who looks like the photo in Momma’s wallet, but I can’t tell if he’s the same person since his eyes were shut tight. 

I scurry as fast as my legs can go to keep up with the clicking sound of Momma’s heels. It’s past my bedtime and my body is heavy with sleep, so I don’t see the steep staircase in time to remember to pick up my feet so they don’t miss any steps. I jerk my hand out of hers to try and catch my balance but it’s too late. 

I can hear Momma screaming as I tumble head first down the stairs and land in a heap at the bottom, my neck bent all funny and my leg angled out to the side. I must have hit my head because my ears are ringing and there’s something warm trickling into my ear. I try to breathe but there is a heavy weight on my chest, so I hold my breath until my eyes start to swim and everything goes dark. 

*****************************************

I hear his footsteps before I see him walking towards us, his little hands tucked deep into his jeans pockets. He shrugs when I glare at the chain around his neck and move my hand like I’m going to take it. He sidesteps my reach and stops walking.

“I’m not staying,” he says, holding my gaze with his own. “I just wanted to tell you I’m keeping this, and that it’ll be safe with me, I promise.” 

Gram glances over at you and then at me. Her chin is quivering and she refuses to blink. You have you head in your hands, and I can tell you are holding your breath. 

“Take care of her,” I say, and he nods, then shifts away. I watch him turn and leave. 

When he’s disappeared, you exhale, and Gram lets her tears fall freely. As for me, I know that chain is in good hands, and that’s all that really matters.