Life Sentences (12 page)

Jane opened the door. “Who you talking to?” she asked as she inspected the room. “I heard a crash. I thought some inmate slipped by me and you were in trouble.”

“No. No trouble here. I dropped the clipboard, that’s all.” Jane studied her as Pilar picked up the board. Her interest made Pilar uncomfortable.

“Let’s get this day started,” Pilar stated with as much cheerfulness as she could come up with at that moment.

“Right,” Jane agreed. “Follow me.” Her rapid steps were accentuated by rubber soled shoes that squeaked against the linoleum. She was difficult to keep pace with. “We have an emergency in room two,” Jane reported as she pushed the door open. “Stab wound.”

“A fight so early?” Pilar asked. “Incredible.”

“These guys only got time, Doc, and fights aren’t usually scheduled.”

Tiger slouched over his stomach on the end of the exam table, feet dangling like a rag doll. His bloody hand held together the edges of a jagged tear that almost covered his entire abdomen.

“Who’d you piss off so early in the day, Tiger?” Pilar asked as she peeled his hand away from the wound. He didn’t respond. He didn’t have to. Pilar knew the answer. Tiger probably didn’t deliver the goods as guaranteed, or maybe he took some drugs for a private stash rather than turn the cache over to his buyer.

“At any rate,” Pilar consoled as she cleansed the ragged slice and looked for any unwanted particles left behind, “you’ll live.” Tiger squeezed his eyes into slits and flinched. “The wound isn’t too bad this time. A few stitches and a tetanus shot and you’ll be on your way. By the way, you must have had some previous practice in first aid.”

“What d’ya mean, Doc?” Tiger mumbled his first words.

“You did a nice job stopping the bleeding.” Pilar pointed to the finger prints still visible where he had applied pressure to form a makeshift tourniquet.

Tiger examined his wound and grunted, “Practice. Right.”

“It’s a good idea to stay inactive for a couple of days,” Pilar instructed. “I’ll let the unit sergeant know you’re excused from any work detail until after I see you in ten days.”

When Pilar finished bandaging his wound, she asked, “By the way, do you have any Tylenol?”

“What for?” Tiger mustered his tough-guy voice.

“Pain.” Pilar again pointed to his wrapped stomach.

“Won’t need any.” He used his macho street tone.

“Right, okay. I almost forgot. A nurse will change your dressing when she makes block rounds.”

“Hmm,” Tiger replied, “I’ll probably be in the hole for this.” He jutted his stomach at Pilar.

“She’ll still change your dressing and I must see you in ten days wherever you are.” Pilar pressed the buzzer and waited for the officer to take Tiger back to his cell.

“Don’t forget the Tylenol,” she reminded as Tiger was ushered away.

T
WO WEEKS TO THE
day Pilar last examined Chad his name was on the infirmary call out list. When Pilar saw his name in print her spine tickled as if someone stroked it with a feather. She threw off the sensation and admonished herself for her silly behavior. Again, she reminded herself that her interest in Chad had been fueled by his notoriety, and Lorrie’s rendition of her relationship with him. “Normal curiosity,” she assured herself.

Marcus’ warnings also sounded in her head. He hadoften brought to Pilar’s attention her “unhealthy” need to help the underdog. He lectured Pilar on many occasions about her reactions to people Pilar perceived as mistreated or helpless. “Your emotions will get you in trouble one day,” he had told Pilar more times than either cared to recall. Regardless, Pilar didn’t really believe her own social work mentality was a bad thing.

Though Pilar rushed through each patient’s problem and dispensed prescriptions as fast as possible, it wouldn’t bring Chad any sooner. He would be delivered when scheduled and only after Pilar completed the examinations on all those who came before him.

Tommy Johnson entered Pilar’s office halfway through the morning. She’d missed his name, or perhaps ignored it once she zeroed in on Chad’s. His sudden appearance at Pilar’s office door made her uneasy. “What are you doing here?” she asked, her tone more defensive than professional.

“I’m on call out.” He pointed to the clipboard in Pilar’s hand.

After Pilar confirmed his appointment, she walked to the door. “That’s not what I mean. Even if you are on the call out, you’re supposed to wait for the nurse to secure you in an exam room. I rarely see patients here.” Pilar motioned him to the nurses’ station.

“She told me to come here.” Tommy shrugged as he tilted his head at Jane. He seemed unruffled.

Jane, on the other hand, appeared flustered in hispresence and apologized for her error. She directed Tommy to a room. “The doctor will see you in there.”

Tommy ambled away as Jane passed his file to Pilar. She didn’t release her grip right away. For several seconds they searched each other’s expressions. For what? Understanding? Forgiveness?

“Sorry,” Jane said. “I’m so used to letting him in your office to clean; I forgot.”

“An easy mistake,” Pilar responded.

Pilar seized the file and slipped into the room where Tommy waited. She had forgotten that he was the infirmary porter. He had almost free access to her office. Pilar needed to be more careful about what she left out for him to see — if it wasn’t too late.

Unlike Chad, Tommy emoted danger. His dark, mean eyes were topped by full brows as black as a Halloween cat’s. Those dark brows were a remarkable, almost contrived-looking contrast to his dishwater blonde hair. They knitted together in a V over his nose and appeared like a bat flying. Pilar shivered at the thought and rubbed her upper arms.

“Cold?” Tommy asked. His voice startled Pilar. Had she thought he couldn’t talk? Or perhaps she didn’t think he was capable of considerate words. Pilar didn’t answer. Instead, she studied his file and then scrutinized him. Johnson unsettled her, but she hadn’t a clue why she felt more that way about him than other prisoners. “Why areyou here, Mr. Johnson?”

“I wanna quit smoking.” He sounded like a wise guy from that organized crime TV series, “The Sopranos”.

“That’s commendable. How can I help?” Pilar sat in a chair next to him.

His brows fluttered like wings when he answered. “I wanna get inta counseling so I can wear one of them patches. But, you need to order it.”

“I see. I can only recommend that you go to group. The therapist determines whether a prescription is warranted for the patch. Once he notifies me, I’ll write it up.”

“What’s the use of seeing you then if you can’t do nothing for me?” he asked, visibly agitated.

Pilar remained calm on the outside, but edgy on the inside when she answered, “Without my initial recommendation, nothing will happen for you.” She gained control for the moment. Then, she recalled information in his file. Tommy was quick to anger. He even murdered his rap partner. It was that murder that got him sentenced to prison, if only for a short time. Pilar didn’t have any intention of being Tommy’s next victim.

He stood up unexpectedly. Pilar leaned away.

“Did I scare ya, Doc?”

“No. Only surprised me.”

He smiled with half his mouth. That did scare her.

“Don’t worry. I won’t never hurt you. We need ya round here.” He paused and seemed to consider his next step. “You’re a good doctor and ya care ‘bout us.” At that moment he didn’t appear to be the volatile murderer described in his prison file. Tommy seemed almost considerate.

“Thank you. I just do my job as I see fit.” Feeling more relaxed, Pilar sat at the chart table to make notes. Tommy turned to leave without permission. “I haven’t said you could leave yet,” she scolded. She continued with more softness, “We haven’t settled your smoking issue.” She pointed to his arm as though he already wore the patch he’d asked for.

“Forget about it. I’ll take my chances with cancer. Gonna die somehow.” He placed his hand on the door knob.

“Mr. Johnson, I think what you want to do, quit smoking, is worthy and difficult for someone locked up.” Pilar was willing to help a patient like Tommy who asked for assistance.

“Thanks, but I don’t wanna get ya in no trouble or do something not in policy, Doc.” Tommy sat down again. “You already do more than any other doctor in this joint.”

“I appreciate your compliment.” Pilar smiled. His sudden kindness was unexpected. Maybe there was more to him than met the eye, as the cliche went. “I do what I have to for the sake of good health. So, let me write a script for the patch and get you started in a support group. Agreed?” Without waiting for an answer, she wrote the prescription and made a notation in his medical record.

“That’s great, Doc.” Tommy got up. Once through thedoor, he said over his shoulder, “I’ll pay ya back soon. I’ll clean your office with extra special care.”

“God knows,” Pilar chuckled, “it could use it.” She didn’t want to do anything to provoke his angry side. Moreover, Pilar enjoyed that new, kinder facet of Tommy. She started to follow him out into the hall.

Jane was obviously waiting outside the exam room. Not wanting to intrude, Pilar stepped back into the room just out of sight, but within hearing range.

“How did it go?” she heard Jane ask.

“Piece of cake. A soft touch. She’s eager to help, and that makes her mellow. The perfect “Duck”. She’ll give in when the time’s right.”

“How do you know all that?” Jane pressed.

“I listen and observe,” Tommy whispered. “The clues are out there.” He sounded like a detective from a film noir style movie. “And she wrote the script.”

Pilar peeked out just in time to catch him stroking Jane’s cheek.

“I’ll tell you more later,” Tommy said in almost a loving tone. He glanced toward Pilar and withdrew his hand. Lightning quick, he exited the waiting area on his own. His medium security level gave him a lot more freedom of movement than Chad. A lot more than most prisoners at Hawk Haven. When the gate closed behind him, Pilar watched Jane’s reaction. She lowered her head and shuffled papers on her desk as if to avoid Pilar’s scrutiny.

Pilar gave Jane the script for the patch and counseling. “Process this today,” she ordered more harshly than needed.

Jane picked up the paper and file. “I didn’t know he wanted to quit smoking. Good for Tommy.”

“Yeah, good for Tommy,” Pilar repeated as she looked back at the gate. What had she gotten in to? Helping Tommy quit a harmful health habit couldn’t be all bad even if Pilar went outside policy a little. But, what did Tommy think she’d give in to? When would the time be right? She decided to find out what “Duck” meant.

A half hour before the noon inmate count, Jane tapped on Pilar’s open door. “Chad Wilbanks is in exam room one.”

Pilar’s heart stopped for a brief moment. She occupied herself by straightening a row of pens. She hoped Jane didn’t notice the color blazing in her face and down into her chest like a pink river. “I’ll be right along.” Did she sound too solicitous?

As soon as Jane left, Pilar inhaled ten times, a technique learned in a relaxation class. She checked her face and hair in the mirror near the door. Jane looked up from her station and noted the care Pilar took. Pilar smiled and hustled to see Chad, sure the flush had deepened the red in her cheeks. She stuffed back the familiar question: Why was she acting like this?

When Pilar walked through the door and let her eyes connect with Chad’s, she knew the answer. It was carnal.

“I haven’t seen you in a while, Chad,” she said. “Whatbrings you today?” She pretended to review his history in his medical record.

Casually, Chad leaned back in his chair, letting his knees part. “You,” he smiled. “And your scent. What is the perfume you always wear?”

“Lauren.” Pilar rubbed her hand lightly across her neck where she had applied perfume earlier. “I know you’re here to see me, but for what medical reason?” She brushed her hair off her forehead, pulled the exam stool forward and dropped gracefully onto it.

Chad considered her for several moments. Pilar heard footsteps in the corridor as the employees made their way out the gate for lunch. She crossed her legs, shifted on the stool. Clearly, they were taking each other’s measures.

Chad leaned forward and almost whispered, “I waited for as long as I could before coming back. I may be taking a chance today, but …” He reached his free hand toward Pilar.

Pilar wrapped it in both of her hands and lowered her face into his palm.

M
IDWAY THROUGH A BRUTALLY
cold November morning in her fourth month at Hawk Haven, Pilar wasn’t surprised to find Chad waiting in an exam room. He sat in the same chair as he did on the first day they met.

“So, what brings you here today, Mr. Wilbanks?” Pilar asked. As she took the medical folder from the door pocket, Pilar caught Jane observing her. Pilar’s glare challenged Jane’s inquisitive stare. Jane turned away.

Pilar walked close to Chad’s chair. Her lab coat brushed against his hand. His now twice-weekly visits had become a normal part of her schedule at Hawk Haven, were so routine in fact, no one, except Jane, seemed to question them. Even the officers stopped cuffing him in the second month after Pilar reported to Jane that Chad had an inoperable brain tumor. She had to make up some chronic medical problem. Otherwise, he couldn’t see her so often without arousing suspicion.

As Pilar passed Chad, he reached behind her andclosed the door. Pilar’s hair prickled at the base of her neck. Without turning she ordered him to get on the exam table.

He obeyed.

Pilar stationed herself behind him so she could watch the door. She circled her arms around his chest and reached her hand inside his pressed uniform shirt. His sinewy muscles tightened in response. Pilar kissed his neck and the top of his head. A thin flame ran under her skin.

Chad caressed Pilar’s hand. “We’ve got to be careful,” he cautioned. His hand was warm, assuring. “You know I’m working on something.” His grip tightened and then he let go. Pilar’s hand hurt.

“I know.” Pilar massaged his shoulders. “But, it’s getting tougher to wait. My nerves are raw.” She imagined his fine-toned, naked body entwined in hers. She massaged her hand.