Noah, After
Noah sat on the floor in the isolation cell, trying to figure out how long he had been here. He was in the ACU, or Administrative Custody Unit, for inmates that were in danger from other inmates. They had given him lunch through a slot in the door and then dinner, a while ago. The twelve-by-six cell was a white, windowless box that had a cot, urinal, toilet, and sink.
Noah rose. Sooner or later, Deputy Warden McLaughlin would have to see him. They couldn’t keep him in the ACU forever, and even in the RHU, he’d have been entitled to a release hearing in seventy-two hours. There was no practical difference between the ACU and the RHU. Solitary confinement was the same, no matter what you called it.
He went to the heavy metal door and pounded hard. It was painted white but scuffed in places, and dented along the bottom, from being kicked. ‘Mr Stanislavsky!’
There was no answer, so he pounded again. ‘Mr Stanislavsky!’
There was still no answer, so he kept pounding. Suddenly he heard heavy footsteps in the hallway coming to his door, and in the next moment, the eye-level slot was slid open.
‘Knock it off, Dr Alderman,’ CO Stanislavsky said, frowning. He was lanky and tall, with wire-rimmed glasses. ‘I told you, I’ll let you know as soon as the Deputy Warden is ready.’
‘I want to talk to my lawyer,’ Noah shot back, changing tack.
‘You don’t have phone privileges yet. That account takes weeks to set up in the system. You just can’t make a call.’
‘Yes, you can. Calls to lawyers may go outside the Inmate Telephone System. They’re freely available and must be private and unmonitored, unlike the other calls. I don’t have a phone card and I’ll call collect.’ Noah knew the details because he had read the handbook, for which he patted himself on the back. The fact that he’d studied for prison could save his life.
‘I’ll be back when I see what I can do.’ CO Stanislavsky closed the eye-level slot.
Noah could hear the footsteps walking away, then a heavy door clanging shut. He leaned his forehead against the cell door. It felt cool and calming, like a cold compress in the overheated cell. He thought of Maggie, then realized why. Because she used to kiss his forehead.
He closed his eyes and wondered what she was doing now. He tried to think of what day it was. Tuesday, before Thanksgiving. He hated to think of what the holiday would be like for Maggie and Caleb. He prayed that they were okay, and it gave him some comfort to know that she and Caleb had each other.
Noah felt his eyes fill, but squeezed them tight. He thought about banging his forehead on the metal door, but it wouldn’t do any good. He loved his wife, but he would never see her again. He would see Caleb again, but Kathy would bring him, like before. It tore Noah apart inside.
He heard the door outside opening, footsteps heading his way, and in the next moment the eye-slot was pulled open.
‘Dr Alderman,’ CO Stanislavsky said, ‘I’ll take you to the phone. Deputy Warden McLaughlin can’t see you yet. He’s hoping to get to you tonight, if not, tomorrow morning. Cuff up.’
‘Okay.’ Noah backed up to the door, put his hands against the lower slot, which was opened, and through it, he was handcuffed.
‘Come on.’ CO Stanislavsky unlocked the door and opened it, standing aside to let Noah out of the cell.
‘Thanks,’ Noah said, stepping into the hallway, which was when he saw someone else standing against the wall. It was CO Evesham, who might have left his cell intentionally unlocked last night, so that Jeremy Black could be brought in after the fight.
Noah half-considered trying to get back in the cell, but it was locked. He felt the tightness of the cuffs on his wrists.
CO Stanislavsky frowned. ‘Something the matter, Dr Alderman?’
‘No,’ Noah answered, having no other choice, just yet. He couldn’t tell if CO Stanislavsky was planning to ambush him with CO Evesham, or if one CO was plotting but the other wasn’t, or if he was being paranoid. He braced himself and masked his fears.
‘Let’s go, Dr Alderman,’ CO Evesham said, motioning him to the unit door.
Chapter Seventy-eight
Maggie, After
‘Hello, is anybody home?’ Maggie knocked at the Tenderlys’ door, with Kathy and Caleb behind her. She knocked one more time, and the door simply opened. ‘It’s unlocked.’
‘Whoa.’ Kathy shrugged. ‘Go in.’
‘Yeah, it’s cold.’ Caleb shivered in his coat, holding his phone.
‘Hello?’ Maggie opened the door, and they entered the house to find Elma Tenderly sleeping in a recliner next to a brown sofa, which faced a TV playing QVC on mute. She looked to be in her eighties, and her head was turned sideways with her steely hair in a wispy ponytail. She had on a worn black sweatshirt with heavyweight jeans and patterned fleece socks.
‘She’s a sound sleeper,’ Kathy whispered.
‘Like Ralph,’ Caleb added. ‘He never wakes up.’
‘Mrs Tenderly?’ Maggie stepped closer, and the old woman’s hooded eyes fluttered open behind her bifocals.
‘Oh, my, hello.’ Elma’s lips curved into a confused smile. ‘Who are you?’
‘Mrs Tenderly, I’m sorry to barge in. My name’s Maggie Ippoliti, and this is my son Caleb and my friend Kathy Gallagher. We were knocking for a while, and the door was unlocked.’
‘Oh, okay. Call me Elma. That’s with an E, not an A.’ Elma straightened in her chair. ‘So are you folks lost or something?’
‘No, we came from Eddie’s Diner to talk about your granddaughter PG. I think she knew my daughter Anna, who went to the Congreve School.’
‘Oh sure, always happy to talk about my PG.’ Elma smiled, showing teeth missing on the sides. ‘Sit down, take a load off. I like company. I don’t get much anymore.’
‘Thanks.’ Maggie sat down on the couch, and so did Caleb and Kathy. The end table was cluttered with crossword puzzles, pens, old newspapers, a pack of More 100s, a full ashtray, and an empty bag of microwave popcorn.
‘Is it still snowing?’
‘Yes.’
‘Oh, my. I thought it woulda stopped by now.’ Elma’s rheumy eyes shifted to Caleb, and she smiled more broadly, her jowls slackening against her cheeks. ‘Oh, boy, aren’t you just the cutest? How old are you?’
‘I’m ten,’ Caleb said confidently, since he had practiced it many times.
‘And what grade are you in?’
‘Fifth.’
‘Do you like school?’
‘It’s okay.’ Caleb nodded.
‘I see you got one of those phones. What you got on there?’
‘Clash of Clans. A game.’
‘My oh my. Good for you!’ Elma cleared her throat, with difficulty. ‘I’d love some tea. Caleb, would you get me some, so I don’t have to get up? The kettle’s full, all you do is turn the knob.’
‘Yes.’ Caleb rose and went to the kitchen.
‘Thanks, Caleb.’ Maggie glanced back to make sure he was okay. The kitchen was small, and Caleb turned the knob on the stove, then sat down at the table to play his video game.
‘Would you girls like some tea, too?’
‘No thanks,’ Maggie answered, for both of them. ‘Is PG your only granddaughter?’
‘Yes, she is.’
‘Do you have any grandsons?’
‘Not from the same man. You know how that goes.’ Elma sighed. ‘Do you smoke?’
‘No.’
‘Good. It’s terrible for you. I want a cigarette but I can’t have one. Not until bedtime. Sometimes I cheat.’ Elma smiled naughtily, showing dimples in her cheeks, which she must have passed on to her granddaughter, PG.
‘Where does PG go to school?’
‘Tipton High. She’s a whip, that girl. Smart.’ Elma frowned. ‘I was fit to be tied when she dropped out, but there was no stopping her.’
‘When did she drop out?’
‘January. Said school wasn’t her thing. She’s her own boss, that one.’
‘She was a waitress at Eddie’s, wasn’t she?’
‘Yes, she got the job there. Liked it for a time, but she wanted to move to the big city.’
‘Which city?’
‘Philadelphia, but they’re all the same, aren’t they? Tall buildings, too many people. No grass under your feet.’