I leave Aisha sitting at the table by herself. I fly into the hallway. I don’t go to my room but stop and pace the halls. Back and forth for six trips. My fists clench harder with each round. My breath is shallower with every step. I bite my lip and shake my head. I’m going to explode.
A hand touches my shoulder. Thinking it is Wired, I turn and shove the person.
Through the fire of my emotions, I see that it’s my CO. Crap!
He must have spotted me and thought I was escalating. He’s right. I offer my hand to help him up. But he’s already half-standing.
“You know the drill,” he states.
I turn so Collins can restrain my arms behind my back. He walks me to my room and as my door slams shut I hear him say into his walkie-talkie, “Lockdown on level four.”
Great. Not only did I royally screw up the visit with Aisha, now I have earned my entire ward a lockdown. That won’t go over well with the guys in my section.
Being on lockdown means you can’t leave your room for the allotted time. This time it’s two hours. Other than clothes and my school books, I have nothing in my room. Nothing to occupy my time. Now I miss more than ever being allowed to have a cell phone. So I try to bury myself in my studies. Besides, if I’m studying, I don’t have to think about the botched visit with Aisha. How I left her sitting there with all her questions.
But Aisha made the effort to come see me. She had the courage to walk through the door and wait at a table for me. Even after almost having her car hit on the way here.
And I bolted.
Jackson will probably revoke my privileges to see Larkyn. What does it matter? I was only fooling myself. How could I think that hanging out with a girl would keep my mind from running the same clip over and over — the scene from that day? It will always be the first thing I think of when I wake up. And now I feel the full impact of it. Of my actions. Of what I did.
Everyone will know it was me who screwed up. So when the lockdown is lifted and our doors open for us to attend the evening program, I don’t leave my room. But in seconds, Wired is at my door.
“Wow!” he says. “Knocking down a guard. You’ve got balls after all.”
“And I thought you were here to give me crap.”
“I won’t need to. The Diablos are pissed. Not just those who got shut down for the past few hours. Everyone is antsy. Guys in here don’t like waiting.”
“But I gave you extra cash. What’s the problem?”
“Like I said before, I’m being watched. And after what happened with you, the COs are being bigger jerks than usual. I need someone . . .”
“No! I told you before. I’m not interested.” I don’t want to face anyone else. But I don’t want to be stuck in this room with Wired hanging at my door. I brush past him and head to the TV room.
Judge Judy is blaring from the screen. It’s not like I get to choose what to watch. Macaroni and I never get to choose. If you don’t like what’s playing, you don’t stick around. But today, since the room has only three guys sitting in it, and they aren’t gang members, I chill. Escaping here is about the only thing that will get me through the rest of the day.
Jackson comes to see me a week after the blow-up with Aisha. I sweated every day waiting for him to ream me out. Now that the time is here, I’m relieved. We can get it over with. I can return to the routine I had before all of this started. Even if it means not seeing Larkyn-with-a-backwards-k.
“Hey, Kevin,” Jackson says. He has our usual arsenal on the table. Peace offering, maybe.
I feel unsure as I answer with, “How’s it going?”
“Better for me than you, I hear.”
“Yeah, it was a crappy week. Listen, I didn’t mean to blow off Aisha like that. She was talking about a car accident she almost had on the way in to visit me. How was I supposed to respond? I mean shit . . .”
“Yeah, she told me. She feels bad about sharing that with you. She realizes that it was a trigger for both of you. She knows that’s why you left. She wants to give it another shot. What do you say?”
I look around the room. Visitors everywhere. Lots of people sit casually with their sentenced son. I wonder how we looked last week. It surprises me to hear that Aisha wants to try again. To give me a second chance. I didn’t expect that.
I answer Jackson, “I don’t know. The whole time I was with Aisha, all I could think about was this stupid word: sorry. A word with no meaning. Not to me, anyway.”
“You don’t think apologizing for what happened will make a difference?”
“How can it? It can’t give them back the life they had before I ran into . . .”
“But it can be the first step in building a connection. A real connection. Where you talk. Where you listen. Forgiveness is . . .”
“Not something I’m looking for. I know that now. I know now that is part of what’s been keeping me here. I don’t deserve to be released.”
“Well, Larkyn has also asked to see you. How about we approve Larkyn for now and give you a week or so before trying with Aisha again? Maybe meeting with Larkyn will get you back on track. I know you said she gave you purpose. Let’s start there. She’s seeing Wired this afternoon. I could pull some strings.”
“I can think about it. But I can’t guarantee that I’ll be ready for a round two with Aisha.”
“Fair enough. I’ll see about extending Larkyn’s time to give you a chance to chat today.”
It’s so pathetic, it’s almost funny. My PO is agreeing to something he believes isn’t in my best interest.
I leave the room and wait. I wait for Jackson to work some magic. I wait to hear that I can see Larkyn. I wonder if seeing her will get me out of my head.