Conclusion of “Creative Funny Prison Story”
… oh, I hear his voice. Have been for some time now, this, this man Jenkin’s who’ve I only met hours ago. Here i sit, on a toilet in my cashmere dress. The dress I was to change into after leaving the bank. Sept I froze, taken away with the smoking gun in hand. Now Jenkins has been going over and overof how I am going to walk out of here… He wants me in the toilet so I won’t be seen. He stands in front of me, speaking to me in his wrinkled prison drab. He is bootless as they hurt his feet. There is a big hole in one of his yellowing socks where his big toe sticks out. I really want to laugh, but can’t. I can’t because I see the concern in his eyes for me; yes me.
I sit listening to Jenkins, at first a lot. But now I am just staring down at the shine on my shoes. I remember the shine as I looked down right before entering the bank. I remember the heels clicking on the banks marble floor… then the blast of the gun.
I hear Jenkins again. I also take in the smell around me, smells I have never known. The smell of men and walls that time has made into something only found amongst the caged. yet, this mans voice makes my heart warm, but the heat only comes in shortness because the fear jumps upon my being. A fear that brings a taste to one’s mouth that makes it hard to swallow.
“Alice, Alice, it’s getting to that time; just remember to do all I said. Worst case is you get caught, extra year big deal. You just gotta act no actress has acted before Alice. Then once you’re free, don’t run far. Do like I said, get cash, find a out of the way spot right here in New York. Millions in the city. Just lay low. I’ll be out in two, three yers the most. They’ll take me back up-state, them back down here in a few months for another hearing”
“But what about assisting me, you’ll…?”
“Don’t worry bout that, there is no violence, you’re walking out and they let you”
“And it will be the next shift?”
“… right Alice, take the clipboard and papers, walk out, get on the elevator with the other “suits” and follow them out through the kitchen and laundry area, once on the loading docks, keep a hard face. Some of the dock workers, “Short-timer Inmates”, might approach you for assistance, tell them your overwhelmed with cases and keep walking for the street.” Jenkins finally stopped talking, took a deep breath, stared down at Alice-she felt the silence, she reached out to him. He caressed her hair… pulled her up to him… looked into her eyes
“… Jenkins” she whispered, and the they kissed, really kissed. “if you want to…?
“… no, not like this” he said as he wiped away her tears with his rough hands.
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So, the prison venture of Alice Young worked. She stood by the door as the next shift came on. She yelled at Jenkins, she was “done with him”, loud enough, drawing the attention of the on-coming guard. “Let me outta here i can’t help him”.
“Sit down “Cal” while I get her out” the guard instructed Jenkins.
Door opened, out she went, clipboard in hand… on the elevator, gone….
Out on the street, the only thing swirling in her head as she held the clipboard, was, learning Jenkins first name, Cal… short for “California Jenkins”