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Three days have passed and my office had become a real shit. Files of paperwork on the desk obscure the view when I sit. Balls of powder big as tennis balls run on the floor. The neon light is black, all covered with dead insects. In Mary’s house is not better, anyway. It’s too dirty and chaotic. I have to say that it’s not my fault. When I inhabited with Fred, our apartment was decorous. We didn’t make home works every day, but we tried to be tidy. Instead, since I live with Mary, I feel like living in a broche. Every day I repeat to myself that it was better to look for another accommodation, after separating from Fred, but I don’t think Mary would ever forgive me. Moreover we are friends since many years, a true and deep friendship. We were already inseparable when we attended the same high school in Mariposa. Let’s figure out when I told her that I wanted to move to Los Angeles, too. She was looking forward to it. Then she invited me every Friday to dinner and it was always difficult to find a free chair where to sit down. Her chronic disorder was something known. But there’s quite a difference between an occasional visit and living in the same house. I feel like living in a nightmare. Mary takes off her knickers and leaves them on the floor; she does her hair and leaves the comb on the kitchen’s sink. In short, to have a decent home, I should spend all my free time picking up her things. The same is in the office, where she spends as much time as me. It reflects her way to see tidiness. Practically it doesn’t exist.
This morning I woke up moody. I spent all night dreaming about Fred fucking with Fanny for several times in front of my dismayed eyes. Because of those two stupid in my dreams, I reviewed all the position in the Kamasutra. The fact is that if it was me the protagonist of my night fantasies, I probably woke up with that pleasant sensation of weak legs and voluptuous underbelly. Instead I woke up with spinning bales. This is the reason why, when I come across Mary in the office, I begin pouring my anger toward her: «Stop and don’t you run away as usual! In here is a mess and it’s only your fault. Like at home, you heap everything and never clean up. I spoke with the cleaners and they told me that they don’t even want to enter in our mess. »
She looks at me with a seraphic air, as if my complaints didn’t hurt her at all.
«If this is the problem, don’t worry... it’s enough to choose a detainee and order to him to clean the office for you. »
I look at her astonished, uncertain if believe her words or not.
«May I do something like that? It’s three days now that you keep on telling me that I shouldn’t give confidence to any detainee, nor to let them know my vulnerabilities, to avoid being trumped. »
«Yes, but this is an equal exchange. Usually, in change of some little favor, the guys ask you for a packet of cigarettes. Just little stuffs. »
She gets out of the office and lets me alone. I’m thinking about her advice, when I see a cockroach walking between my feet. What a crop! I hate all living beings with more than four legs. I decide that it’s the right time to intervene and I go toward the cells.
As soon as I reach the corridor I notice that there’s something strange: the corridor is silent and the cells are empty.
«Harry, what’s happening today? There’s no living soul in here» I ask to a colleague that comes out from a side walkway.
«Don’t you know? Thursday it’s visit’s day. They are all in line to see their friends and relatives.»
I follow him and find the guys gathered along the passage that leads to the room used to the reception of family members. I go to have a peak and suddenly I feel like being in the footsteps of a third rate police movie.
The detainees talks with their relatives through a thick glass that goes to the ceiling. To overcome this inconvenience, they use a phone. I feel infinitely sorry when I see a child with his face stuck to the glass sending a kiss to his inmate father.
«Untill last year the glass was only a few dozen inches tall, but they have to set it so high to avoid drugs exchanges» explains Harry, noticing my silence.
I shake my head as a rejection sign. I don’t like at all what I see, but the thing that disturbs me most, in this entire story, is that three days had been enough not to be surprised by anything, anymore. This jail is a non-place place, where who has the misfortune of staying here, whether for punishment or for working reasons, is soon transformed in a human sub-species. I’m getting so much filled with catastrophic stories that I’m feeling as if I couldn’t care less. All, but that one about Matthew. It makes me so sick, knowing that he abused his sister, that I can’t even look at his face anymore, when I pass near his cell.
Anyway, coming back to my problem, I think it’s virtually impossible to find someone willing to clean my office, today. They are all so concentrated recovering a little bit of normal everyday life that I couldn’t distract them even if I gave them a pink diamond from South Africa.
I slowly go back to my office, when a rustle in the cell beside makes me jump. I turn my head to have a look and I find Matthew who’s arranging some books on a fortuitous shelf. What is he doing here? Why isn’t he in line with the others? Bloody hell! I’m experiencing a very strong inner conflict. On one hand there is my brain shouting to run in the office, reminding me a long list of reasons why I should stay away from this cell. On the other hand my body is motionless. Why can’t I go? I’m trying to figure out what is blocking me here, one step away from him. Then I understand. Like the first time I met him, I’m strongly attracted by his swollen biceps, by the big hands, in this moment folded to accommodate the books, crossed by a tangle of blue veins. But, most of all, I also think that I’m attracted by him because of his intellectual way to experience the imprisonment. Mary told me that his misadventure comrades call him “the professor”, because he’s always holding a book. Actually it is difficult to see him otherwise. Every time I pass by, he’s reading a different book and he doesn’t even look at me. Excepting the first day when, with the magnetic power of his grey eyes, he’s been able to make me feel all mess up.
At a certain point I decide that there’s no longer any reason to stay here spying him, so I move on. As I make the first step toward the office, a warm, vibrant voice stops me.
«Where are you going? »
My eyes go wide with astonishment and look at him. Matthew has moved away from the shelf and lean his sculptured torso against the bars. He looks at me as if he was a lion, ready to devour me at the first nod of fear.
«I have to go back to my office. »
«Who told you that, Khyla? The doctor? » asks him docking. Hearing my name pronounced by his full lipped mouth, I shiver. A mix between fear and excitement. This guy has a strange power on me and I don’t even know how to react to his provocations. I decide that it’s better to recover a semblance of calm. I just give a hint of a smile and say: «I just decided so. I’m the master of my actions.»
«Yet untill a few seconds ago, I felt that you were looking for someone. »
«Yes. Actually I need somebody to clean my office, but I didn’t find anyone. They are all in line to see their relatives. »
«I’m here. »
«I can see that by myself, I’m not blind, but I don’t understand why. Isn’t there somebody that comes to visit you?».
What a stupid question I made. How could I not think about it? Who’s in jail because of having fucked his sister, surely has no relatives willing to come and visit him. A pervert like this is destined to perpetual solitude. My words probably upset him, because on his beautiful face there’s a pain expression, a sort of grimace. But after a moment it flies away and his gaze looks proud again.
«I relay on myself. Don’t need anyone.»
«Well, I’ll leave you alone, then, so you can go back to self-gratification. »
He giggles and suddenly stretches out his hand between the bars and takes my arm, blocking me. How can a simple slight grab cause a pain similar to a burnt? Perhaps is not because of his strength, but because my senses are shaken up.
«Actually I don’t like to do everything by myself. I prefer couplet jobs. Anyway you’re lucky. Today I want to be kind. I’ll help you to clean the office.
I retract my hand and say: «What do you want in return? Cigarettes, money, drug? If there’s something I’ve already learned working in here, is that these things don’t come for free. »
«None of this. It’s just kindness. I’m a good boy, in the end. »
I know that I’m going to do the biggest foolish thing of the century, but I decide to give him an opportunity. I take the keys and open his cell.
«Ok, come out. But don’t play tricks on me. »
He precedes me and I walk holding the only means of defence I have: an iron flashlight. In America everyone can have weapons also without real need, but the prison guards, which have to deal every day with the criminals, can’t have one to defence themselves. As he walks, I split my gaze on his bare buttocks, on his muscled legs, barely concealed by his blue suit. I’m frightened. Not by him, but by myself. I fear this attraction that disrupts my bowels, afraid of being unable to remain cold and imperturbable in front of his clear, almost transparent eyes that smack me whenever they look at me. What’s the matter with me? Why can’t I hold back my feelings? Why can’t I get reason to emerge? Reason tries to tell me that Matthew is a man without morality, a wicked and opportunistic being. The problem is that I can’t hear my reason’s complains. However, my heart goes mad whenever I’m near him.
Matthew opens the office’s door and begins to pick up the many objects on the floor.
«For goodness’ sake! To put everything in place it’ll take a week! » he says pointing to me a smile so beautiful that I feel my legs turning to be strawberry jellies. What a cretin I am!
«Let’s start. There’s no time to lose» I order with an authority I didn’t believe to own. «I’ll set the desk in order and you can throw the waste in the trash near the door. »
I sit down and start sorting through the documents, with some indolence, to tell the truth. Even though I’m trying to concentrate in my work, I’m distracted by looking at Matthew. Every gesture, even the most simple, has an exceptional erotic power on me. When he bents to pick a paper, when he throws it with a quick movement of the hand, when he wipes the sweat off his brow. Every movement gives me a shiver that runs under my skin. He, instead, moves with confidence, without paying a look at me. I don’t like his indifference. And I don’t even like the heavy air that I’m breathing in this room. We both are oppressed by a heavy silence. I wish to overcome it because I want to know everything about him, but the fear that he could close in himself, blocks me.
After half an hour of intense work, the office looks more livable. Hearing the steps of the detainees coming back in their cells, accompanied by my colleagues, I realize that it could be counterproductive for me to be found with him.
«Thank you for your help, Matthew, but it’s time for you to go back in your cell. »
«What about my reward? » asks him with sure voice.
«Sorry? Didn’t you say you didn’t want anything in return? »
He comes closer and, very self-confident, he whispers: «And didn’t you tell me that these things don’t come for free? »
Before I can answer, he takes me by the neck and kisses me. Taken aback, I retreat against the cold wall. Hell! Why can’t I get rid of his charm? The fact is that he knows how to take me. I don’t go for cuddles and caresses. I like the man who knows what he wants and Matthew, in this moment, wants me and my lips greedy for kisses. With the confidence of those who know, he put his tongue in my mouth and creates a game of contortions so playful that I almost miss my breath. I don’t know how long I can withstand. The desire to have something more than his knowing lips is pressing inside me.
The more I feel taken by this strong desire, the more the doubts overwhelm me with a pain in the heart. What’s the sense of this enthusiasm about this rapist prisoner? No, I can’t be so fragile and insecure. Just a pair of wonderful eyes and a firm body to touch, can’t make me forget that he fucked his sister, fifteen years old, and made her pregnant. His sister! Not any girl...How much dignity can have a man who can’t keep his desires with a young girl that has his same blood? I have to forgive the taste of his warm skin against mine. Yes I have to succeed, at any rate. I have no other choises. So why, when I think how to get away from him once and for all, do I feel like I’m about to get rid of my same flesh?
As the noises in the corridor are getting more and more loudly, he steps behind and looks in my eyes.
«Well, I can go now. But it’s not over. I’ll come back to get what you didn’t give me yet »
And as I accompany him to his cell, making a weird ride not to arouse suspicions in my colleagues, I think that his words are not a threat, they are a promise.
