I slept about an hour after making sure Blue Hair had passed out. Then a grouchy man in a wrinkled uniform woke us up.
“Let’s go,” he said, pointing to Blue Hair. He dragged her from the cell.
Without a word, another man pulled me to my feet and cuffed my wrists. He pushed me back onto the bench. “Escapees get ankle shackles too,” he said.
I shuffled down the hall to the clerk at the checkout desk, who handed the man a folder. Someone else led me to a white room with buzzing florescent lights. She motioned to a plastic chair, then guided my shoulders for me to sit down.
“Put on this jumpsuit.” She took off the cuffs and shackles. Then she stood stiffly by my side while I changed. In seconds my cuffs were back on. “Now wait here. There’s someone who wants to see you.”
I sat facing the two-way mirror when I heard the familiar voice. “Darlene? Are you okay?”
“What are you doing here?” I barely got the words out.
Di Genta dragged a chair over and set it in front of me. “I was worried about you.” She sat with her face inches from mine. “The police told me you claimed a truck driver tried to sexually assault you. Is that how you got this?” She touched my scraped cheek.
I turned my face away.
She put one hand on my knee. “I’m here on your behalf,” she said.
“But why?”
“I don’t want you to be sent to the women’s jail.”
I stared.
“I know about your mom.”
“You do?”
“I understand why you would want to see her at any cost.” She paused, squeezing her eyes shut like she had a headache. “Darlene, why didn’t you tell me about your mother when you found out?”
“Why would I?”
“You could’ve written about it in your journal.” The teacher kept talking. “My mom went into a diabetic coma while driving. She hit a tree, ending up in intensive care. I was in college in California. I tried to get back to Ohio as fast as I could, but I didn’t make it.” Di Genta softly said, “It was Thanksgiving. I should’ve been there. But instead I stayed at school to be with my boyfriend.”
We heard talking in the hall. No one came in.
Di Genta blinked several times. She wiped away a hint of a tear. “Sometimes I still find it hard to forgive myself.”
“I know what you mean.”
My teacher stood up. “Darlene, I’m dropping the charges against you for stealing my car. I can’t do anything about the AWOL. But you do have special circumstances. And a defense attorney contacted me about taking your case to the judge.”
I looked up. “Why?”
“He’s a crusader against sending juveniles to adult prison.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. If I’m your advocate, you could return to Buckeye Village with restrictions.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Let’s just say I’d like to help you earn a chance to see your mom.”
“Do you think that’s even possible?”
“Like I said, with the help of the attorney, and me as your advocate, we can make a plea to the judge.” She smiled. “It’s worth a try.”
I managed to dam up the river of tears pressing to get out.
“However, you’ll be staying here until things get settled. Will you be all right?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Good point,” she said, taking both my hands in hers. “You would tell me if that truck driver did anything to you, wouldn’t you?”
“Ms. Di Genta? I got him to take me inside by pretending I was about to pee my pants. Once we got into the restaurant, I found someone to help me.”
“That was smart. Then how did you get that?” She pointed.
“How do you think? The cop who tackled me.”
“Oh, Darlene, you could’ve been really hurt—or worse.”
“Don’t worry about me. I can handle myself.”
Di Genta set her hand on my shoulder. “Let’s see about getting you back to Buckeye and focus on getting a pass to visit your mother.”
“Thank you, Ms. Di Genta,” I said.
Di Genta moved the strands of hair away from my mouth. “I’ll be praying for you.” She moved her chair to the other side of the room and left.
I wore the orange jumpsuit for the next two days. I ate what they gave me. And I tried to sleep when the lights were out. Young and not so young women came in and out. I had plenty of time to think.
Would Mama die before I got to see her? And would I ever forgive myself for getting in trouble in the first place?
I wondered how Jesse was doing, and if he hated me for leaving him.