I held the folded crossword book in my hand with a tighter grip than I realized, staring out the window to the rain while dreading the long day. It was barely ten in the morning and already I couldn’t wait for it to be over. This halfway house I had suddenly been awarded a month early was better than what I had just left, but nowhere near home. Being stuck in this dingy, dark room was nasty but way better than prison. The caretaker there was just as bad as the guards I’d had the pleasure of meeting during my eleven-month stay. It was supposed to be twelve, but because I was such a good, conforming prisoner, I was released to this asshole for one month. Twenty-seven more days and I could finally put this all behind me, get back to my house with my comfortable bed, and…. I blinked away the thought when I had to think about what else I couldn’t wait to get home for.
All I had to do was keep my mouth shut with this shit-head on a power trip, and I was home free. I could go anywhere in the world I wanted to go and nobody could stop me. Not that I had anywhere to go except home; the place I dreaded more than this long day. Daniel didn’t even know I was there, or that I would be home a month earlier than planned. Sergeant Jerk hadn’t let me make the call yet. The first and only time I had asked, he said he would tell me when I could use the phone. His spit in my face from screaming wasn’t something I needed more of. I’d wait. Maybe I didn’t really care about the call. Maybe it was dreaded more than asking him if I could make it.
“Atlantis,” I heard Richard call, two knuckle taps on the other side of the door.
Rolling my eyes, I looked from the window I hadn’t realized I was staring out, to the door, feeling of hate distaste boiling in the pit of my stomach I couldn’t wait to put this all behind me. I’d only been transferred to Richard’s “award winning” halfway house for three days and already, I wanted to knock him off his high horse. Of course, that thought led me to where my next stop would be, which didn’t appeal to me anymore than staying here with Captain Dickhead. Even so, I didn’t ever again want to go back where I’d just come from. Prison wasn’t for me, and I just wanted to put it behind me as much as I could, even if I did have to go home.
“Yes, sir?”
A salt and pepper head peeked around the door, mostly salt, and then his ugly, stern face. “Get your shit. You’re out of here.”
I frowned with an instant feeling of shock mixed with confusion. “Excuse me?”
“You’re done. Pack your stuff and meet me downstairs. You catch a bus in one hour.”
“Done? A bus?”
“What’s your problem, Kars? You want to stay the whole month? I’m sure I could arrange it, or maybe you’d rather just take a U-turn back to your block. Huh?”
“No, sir.”
“That’s what I thought. You’ve got five minutes.”
That one change, changed everything. Had I been released one day sooner or one day later, fate would have taken me somewhere else. I slid from the springy bed with adrenaline pumping quickly through my veins, calling to his back just before the door closed. “Richard?”
“What, Kars? You want out of here or not?”
“Yes, sir. I was just wondering if I could call my husband. He doesn’t even know I’m here.”
“Yes, but make it quick. I’m expecting a call. Any more questions? Four minutes.”
I gathered my things as fast as I could, afraid he’d change his mind, and hurried down the old wood steps, my nerves on my sleeves. Standing in front of Richard’s desk, an annoyance I realized I hadn’t missed came out of nowhere. Danny didn’t answer and his voicemail was full, but I was the only one who cared.
Just like that, I was shoved into the backseat of a cab with a twenty-dollar bill for food and a bus ticket; next stop Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Home. I thought about that with a false sense of hope while I left the dowdy road, happy to never return. Even though I knew it wasn’t a sightseeing kind of trip, it sort of felt like it. I was free. I could spend as many days in the city as I wanted. I liked Philadelphia. Or at least I thought I did. Visiting a musical in the tenth grade hardly counted as falling in love, but I did remember how much I loved the city. What if I didn’t call him? What if I just stayed in Philadelphia for a few days? He’d never even know. I snorted the thoughts away, realizing I had no phone, a twenty-dollar bill, and a backpack with two pairs of jeans, three shirts, gray sweats matching the hoodie I was wearing, a toothbrush, socks and underwear. That was about it.
Besides, what would I do all alone? And not only that…I had to remember the fact that I hadn’t really ever been anywhere by myself. Other than a camp chaperone thing I’d done in West Virginia years ago, with my best friend, I had never even been out of Pennsylvania. Unless I counted Connecticut. And I didn’t. I wanted far, far away from Connecticut. The faster the better. There wasn’t much sightseeing behind barbed wire and razor blades, but it wasn’t until the driver dropped me off at the door of the bus station in Hartford that it hit me. Really hit me. I was free and I suddenly had the urge to run. If only I had somewhere to run to.
I stood on the sidewalk watching all the people. A million things crashed through me at once and I was sort of stuck in a trance with an overwhelming realization. No more stale bread and peanut butter, that wasn’t really peanut butter at all, for lunch. No more asking permission to use the bathroom, no more men or women guards on power trips screaming in my face, and no more burnt coffee, or whatever that was. That thought made me think of Starbucks and I swear I could smell it… Caramel Brulée sauce with a splash of heavy cream, blended with ice, topped with whipped cream, and crunchy caramel. I could almost taste it.
“Oh, let me help you,” I offered, my simple pleasure washed away by a girl, a sleeping baby, and her dropped bag.
“Thank you so much. I really appreciate you.”
That was a weird thing to say, I thought, nodding at the young girl, my eyes glancing to her little boy, sound asleep in her arms. I glanced to the fancy car pulling away after dropping her off, judging her by the ride and the boots she wore. Every girl knew Jimmy Choo and it didn’t matter what part of town you grew up in. “You’re welcome,” I smiled, my drooling over a Frappuccino replaced with a warm feeling of appreciation.
Stepping away, I looked around, trying like hell to keep my emotions in check. I stepped through the double doors with a sigh, Mount Grace on my mind and a heaviness in my chest. Knowing where it came from, I remembered I still had to call Daniel. He didn’t even know I’d been moved to the halfway house, let alone that I was headed his way. Now. Right this second.
The whole thing made me sad for the system of the thousands of prisoners with no rights. It’s something you can’t understand unless you’ve gone through it. I myself had a new understanding of how it really went down. Believe you me, I would never look at it the same again. Until you’ve heard your name on the radio. Until you’ve been outcast by your friends and your community. Until you’ve been the big story on the six o’clock news. Until everyone in the entire county knows your name. Until you’ve been handcuffed and tossed in the back of a police car. Until you’ve been told when and what you can eat. Until you’ve asked permission to pee. You can’t know. That show on television about the women’s prison…Lies. Total lies.
The people glamorizing incarceration should go live it. It’s a lie and it was nothing like that. Nothing at all. You don’t even get to decide how many pads you need and there is never enough toilet paper. You’re not going to develop strong friendships to help you through tough times, and you don’t have trendy jobs to keep you busy, and flawless looking women…a myth. Total bullshit. I stuck to myself and stayed far, far away from big, mean, women; muscles bigger than most men I’d known. And to think I’d preferred it over Mount Grace at the time. Those words were taken back time and time again. As much as I dreaded the thought of going home, it was better than prison. Way better.
I stood in line with a constant lump in my throat. This was real and it winded me. Coming out of nowhere, I was free, but it didn’t feel like I was. Of course, I was grateful to be out of prison, but it sort of felt like another lie, like I was leaving one to go to another.
“Next,” the lady said, flipping the thoughts in my mind to the bus trip and my future destination. Home.
Once I’d gotten my bus squared away, I looked around the busy station for a payphone, dreading the necessary call to Danny. Finding four in a row right outside the ladies room, my bladder urged me to go there first, reminding me I needed to pee. Bad…
Skipping the first two stalls, I danced around, trying to hurry while reading graffiti splattered all over the walls, resisting the impulse to hoard the toilet paper. Sticking enough for at least a number two down my bra had actually become a reality in my life, something beyond my wildest dreams. Thinking about the phenomenon I would never understand, I wondered how I got here. One decision changed everything and I suddenly found myself being someone else. Someone I didn’t know how to be. One minute I was one person, and the next, I was this person. Someone totally different and I didn’t know how to do it. Strolling through the motions. That’s what I was doing, but it was all I had.
Happy to see the soap dispenser full of green liquid, I glanced at my reflection; a ghost of who I once was. My hair was longer and my eyes looked hollow like I’d lost myself and it showed. Blinking the pathetic thought away, I thought about my hair. I knew Daniel would say something about the ponytail. He thought it was an advertisement to tell people how lazy I was. Of course, he was subtler about it than that, but it meant the same thing. My eyes weren’t the same either, but it wasn’t the dark circles haunting me. It was the sadness I had become accustomed to; a lost soul drifting with no real direction in sight. I was in a gray hoodie and jeans, something else Danny hated, and I doubted makeup would do much for the sadness. All the makeup in the world couldn’t fix that. Not that I even had makeup. Chastising myself with my own reflection, I shook my head back and forth. Here I was fresh out of prison and I was worried about how I looked for my husband.
We hadn’t seen each other in almost a year, but honestly, it didn’t feel like twelve months had gone by. Not at all. It seemed like only yesterday and it was all a bit surreal now that it was over. I stared at my reflection, unconsciously trying to convince this new me to hold on, assure myself everything was going to be okay, and we were going to get through this. Trying to convince myself it was worth it was the part that became harder and harder. Giving up was easy when it didn’t matter anymore. And it didn’t. It hadn’t for a very long time, but as long as I could think about something else, it at least got me through the motions.
“You have amazing eyes. What a beautiful green.”
I blinked away the pain and faked a smile, turning to the girl I’d helped earlier on the sidewalk. “Oh, thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Do you mind watching my bags for a minute? It’s hard enough with a sleeping baby strapped to your chest.”
“Yes. Of course,” I said out of instinct, taking them from her hands; a heavy duffle bag and a backpack with red trains.
“I’m Tristan,” she said from behind the thin door.
“Hey, I’m Atlantis.”
“Oh, like the lost city? Wow, what a powerful name.”
I didn’t know anything about that or where I got my name. My mom gave it to me. That’s all I knew. My Aunt Jo pretty much raised me, but she didn’t need to know any of that. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Where you headed?”
I took a quiet deep breath, more for me than her, and answered regrettably. “I—I—I’m headed home. Mount Grace, Pennsylvania. It’s just a small town a couple hours out of Philadelphia.”
The toilet flushed and this girl, Tristan, stepped out with a tilted head, wearing an expression I wasn’t exactly sure about. Contemplative maybe; like she knew me. But she didn’t. Nobody knew me. Not this me. I didn’t even know this me. “You don’t sound happy about it. I hope you’re coming from somewhere awesome. Were you on vacation?”
That caused a sarcastic puff of air to audibly fall from my lips. Not on purpose, of course. It just happened; an instant reaction I let slip. I tried to recover, helping her out with some paper towels as she worked around the sleeping baby attached to her chest. “Something like that. Here you go.”
“Thank you. What bus are you on? I’m headed to California, maybe we’ll get to ride together for a while. I’ve got several stops along my way,” she said happily, like it wasn’t a big thing at all to be traveling clear across the country with a baby.
“Straight shot to Philadelphia.”
“Oh, perfect. That’s my first stop. At least we’ll get to spend four hours or so together. I love fate.”
I feigned happiness with a small smile, thinking there was no way I was getting stuck on a bus with this chatter box for four straight hours. That time was needed to stare out the window and dread my destination, thinking about falling back in to the same routine as much as I could. “That’s cool. Excuse me, I have to make a call.”
“Oh, sure. Thanks for your help. I’ll catch up in a bit.”
“Great,” I said, not even trying to hide the sarcastic enthusiasm.
Just outside the door, I moved to the furthest payphone, hoping to lose my new friend. Looking at the digital clock clear across the room, I waited for an answer, wondering where the hell he would be. Four hours from home and he didn’t even know I was coming. Without hesitation, I started to worry. The twenty-dollar-bill I was given by Richard before I was tossed to the streets to fend for myself, was supposed to be for food and that cappuccino I wanted so badly. Twenty bucks wouldn’t pay for a cab from Philadelphia to Mount Grace. What if I had to sit and wait for him to get to me for almost three hours? As much as I hated the thought of going home, I hated the thought of adding hours to the dread even more.
“Where the hell are you?” I questioned, my eyes glancing to the time again.
“Everything okay?”
I turned to my new friend and nodded. “Yeah, fine. Just trying to reach someone.”
“You don’t have a smartphone. I knew I liked you.”
The frown was automatic. “Excuse me?”
“I don’t really use a cell phone either. I have an old-school, flip phone, but it’s rarely turned on. Come on. I have a thermos full of the best coffee you’ve ever tasted in your life. I’ll power on my phone. You can use it.”
Had she not trumped my annoyance with a coffee card, I would have declined, and using her phone over the payphone was just as appealing. I didn’t even know how to make a collect call before twelve months ago. “I used to have a smartphone. I mean, I still do. It’s at home.”
Tristan walked away, and I followed, inspired by a real cup of coffee. Prison coffee was brown, warm water with a splash of coffee; barely enough to even taste. “Gotcha. You just get out of prison?”
And there it was. I hadn’t even made it home and already the judgements were handed out. I answered, hoping she saw the terrible person she thought I was and left me alone. Coffee or not, I didn’t need some rich girl judging me. I’d be getting enough of that as soon as I got home. “Something like that.”
“Let’s sit here. I like the sun. Do you mind holding him for a second while I pour us a cup of coffee? I have muffins, too. Freshly made last night. Want one?”
This girl didn’t even give me time to reply to one question before asking another, but I noticed one thing. She didn’t judge me at all. She not only wanted to give me coffee, she trusted me to hold her baby. “I’ll get the coffee. I’m not so good with kids.”
“Great. The thermos is in the side of Baby-T’s bag there, and the muffins are in a paper bag. They’re banana. My dad’s recipe. There’s two copper cups in there for the coffee. I’m going to grab a couple paper towels. Be right back.”
I watched Tristan walk away, leaving me with all her belongings. She even left her wallet right inside the bag; blue with yellow smiley-faces. There was no denying this chick was out there. Way out there. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t grateful our paths crossed. I was. Especially after I tasted the coffee and the delectable banana nut muffin. One really doesn’t know all the things taken for granted until they’re gone, ripped from your life in an instant.
“How old is he?” I questioned, with my lips to the most amazing coffee I’d ever tasted, my head nodding to the infant.
Tristan lovingly smiled down at her baby, the back of her finger sliding down his little cheek. “Too old. Three and a half months. I swear he grows daily and he does something new every single day.”
I smiled warmly back, mixed feelings of sadness and happiness all at the same time. Happy for her, sad for me. Unsure of what to even say, I went with a compliment. Or so I thought. “Smart little guy.”
“They’re all smart. You just have to take the time to see it, something most of society has forgotten how to do.”
My eyes shamefully dropped to the cup and I moved the direction of the conversation onto something else. “You were right. Good coffee.”
“Oh, my God. I’m sorry. Did I offend you? That was very selfish of me.”
“No, it’s fine.”
“Do you have kids?”
“No. I mean, not really. I have two step-daughters, but they were seven and ten when I married their dad.”
“Ahh, I’m sorry. I was a step daughter. I can only imagine.”
I didn’t want to talk about that either. “Why do you call him Baby-T?”
Tristan smiled down at the baby again, this time brushing his soft hair with the tips of her fingers. “It’s a family thing. His daddy’s name is Tobias, and so is his. My name is Tristan, and we call each other T. He’s sort of an extension of both of us. You know? It was only right he have his own special T.”
I pinched off a bite of muffin, smiling around it while keeping the focus on her and not me. “I love that. Are you headed to see Tobias now?”
She took in a deep breath and leaned back, her hand lightly patting her baby’s back. “No, we’re sort of in the middle of a shit storm. He’s in jail.”
“Oh,” I said, unable to hide the surprise. At that moment, I realized I was the one who had judged her. It wasn’t fair that I used the expensive car she had arrived in, and the fancy boots, as an extension of her. She didn’t act like she had money. Not like the girls did back home.
“I know, right? It’ll take me a minute or two to figure out the lesson in this one.”
“Is he in California?”
“No, he’s here in Connecticut. It’s a long story. My mom called the cops on him when he showed up to get me and Baby-T. But she promised to get him out by morning. He should be a free man any time now.”
I didn’t really care to hear about any of her drama. I had enough of my own. A nod was all I added to the conversation. “I should try to call my husband again. Thank you for the coffee. It really was delicious.”
“That’s because it’s fair trade. No poor little kids picked those beans. Here, use my phone.”
I wrinkled my nose in confusion, but I wasn’t sure if it was from the comment about the coffee or the phone. I hadn’t seen a flip phone in ages. It even felt abnormal in my hand, but it was better than trying to make a collect call.
“I don’t know why his phone is off. Something must have happened. Danny is never more than a few inches from his phone.”
“Maybe he’s somewhere else. Can you call someone else you know?”
“He’s at work. Or he should be. I don’t understand why his phone isn’t on him.”
“Call his work,” she nonchalantly suggested, like it wasn’t a big thing at all.
Daniel hated it when I went through the receptionist to get to him, but this was sort of an emergency. He still didn’t know I was coming home and I still needed a ride. He was almost three hours from the bus station I’d be left at if I didn’t get a hold of him soon. Twenty bucks wouldn’t even get me in the same county. Against my better judgment, I called the eight-hundred number everyone in Mount Grace knew. The cheesy commercial everyone who listened to WKYC knew by heart. Call three generations of Dan Kars at one-eight-hundred-Dan-Kar. Daniel was named after his father who was named after his father. Three generations of Daniel Allen Kars’.
“Thank you for calling Dan Kars. Your home town dealer. Can I transfer you to one of our sales specialists today?”
“No, thank you. Can I speak to Daniel, please?”
“I’m sorry. Dan’s very busy. May I take a message?”
As much as I hated to say it, I didn’t feel like I had a choice. “This is Atlantis, Wendy. It’s sort of an emergency and he’s not answering his cellphone.”
“Oh, I—I can see if he can take your call. Hold, please.”
I went to school with Wendy Holden. We used to be good friends. She wouldn’t have treated me like she didn’t know me, before. She judged me and she made it more than obvious. Not even a single concerned question of how I was, or how I’d been.
“Atlantis?”
“Danny, hi. I’ve been trying to call you all morning. Where’s your cell phone?”
“I dropped it in the toilet this morning. Tanya just went out to get me a new one. Did you really just call the dealership with a collect call from prison? This couldn’t have waited until tonight?”
I looked around for somewhere to move, but there really wasn’t anywhere to go where there weren’t people. A feeling I hadn’t missed built deep in my chest, enough so I had to clear my throat in order to speak. As much as I tried to muffle my words, it was impossible. Plus, Tristan’s phone was ancient. Not only could she hear every word I said, she could hear every word he said as well, and I didn’t even care. “Actually, Danny, it couldn’t wait. I didn’t call you from prison. I was moved to a halfway house a week ago. I tried to call you then, too, but you didn’t answer and your voicemail is full.”
“It’s always full. I’m a busy man. What do you mean you’re out of prison? So, you’re staying in a halfway house? Where? Why?”
The feelings and emotions going on inside me were something I couldn’t quite grasp. A mix between anxiety and sadness. Something causing me to choke up and clear my throat several times. Hurt maybe. “It was a transition thing I was offered in lieu of the three months’ probation when I get home. I’m done, Daniel. We can finally put this all behind us. I was only there for one week. The guy who runs the place just came to my room and told me this morning. I’m getting ready to get on a bus home.”
“Wait. Right now? Today?”
The same feelings deepened, but I brushed it off with sarcasm. “Yes, Danny. My ticket says I’ll be there at three-fifteen.”
“Today?”
As much as I wanted to believe his excitement was for my finally coming home, I knew it wasn’t. “Yes. I need you to pick me up today at three.”
Daniel lowered his tone, whispering while I imagined him walking away from his little followers; salesmen pumped full of cockiness, all wearing expensive suits and shiny shoes. “We can’t just throw this on the girls like this, Atlantis. They’re not expecting you. I’m not going to spring it on them this way. They’ve been through enough already. Ashley has a cheer competition tonight. What do you think that would do to her focus?”
Danny’s first wife died in a freak accident. He didn’t really talk about it, but I knew from hearing the story years before, what happened. She’d been sitting at a light beside a semi-truck when he lost a load of logs. I was the first one Danny dated since it happened. One of the things I had loved about him was how amazing he was with his girls. I wanted that for Quinn and at the time, I thought it was a privilege to have been the one.
My eyes narrowed as I slid down in my seat, unsure of how to take, or even make sense out of, what he was saying. I mean, I knew exactly what he was saying, I was just having a hard time comprehending that it was actually coming out of his mouth. “So, what are you saying, Danny? What do you want me to do?”
“I don’t know, Atlantis, but I have two daughters to think about. They’re not expecting you for another month. I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Oh, okay, I’ll just go knock on the prison door and tell them I need a place to stay for a few weeks. What the f-fff…? What do you suggest I do, Daniel?” I questioned, my words no longer muffled.
“What about Aunt Jo? Can’t you go to your aunt’s?”
I blinked away the words, trying to tell myself they weren’t real, that he hadn’t just asked me to go to my aunt’s after being away from me for so long. “Are you serious right now, Daniel? Do you even want me to come home?”
“What kind of question is that? Of course I do, but you’ve known from day one where my first two priorities are. These girls just went through hell and back because of you. Things are finally settled down and they’re both doing well. You can’t get mad at me for looking out for them first.”
My head fell to my chest, shaking back and forth with the unreal reality as I contemplated the most hateful words I could say. It was Tristan’s hand on my back that stopped me, giving me just a hint of hope for reasons I couldn’t explain. I realized at that moment, Aunt Jo was just what I needed. She was the only person in my entire life who wrote to me every single week, the only person who came to see me, the only person to send me a birthday card, and the exact person I needed to be around right now.
The pause gave him ample time to recant, but it was too late. “I didn’t mean it like that, Atlantis. You know what I mean.”
I knew exactly what he meant, but I wasn’t interested in talking about it with a stranger’s phone while she sat right beside me. The only thing I wanted was a ride home, and I didn’t think I was asking for too much. After all, I had just gone through something myself. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I’ll talk to you later. I better go call her.”
Even though I wasn’t expecting much excitement from him about finally seeing me, I did expect a little bit of a fight. There was none. Not one little complaint. “I’ll have a new phone soon. Call me tonight, but wait until around nine. Caitlyn decided to join band. We have to go buy a clarinet and then Ash has her thing, but I have to go. Johnathon is about to blow a deal I’m not going to lose to Vinney. Call me later.”
Just like that, he hung up. He didn’t even care that I was miles from home and had no way to get there once I stepped off the bus. Like I was Aunt Jo’s problem and not his. I hadn’t even realized Tristan’s hand moving in small circles on my back until she stopped. Her voice was pleasant, but her words did little to ease this familiar sense of rejection I felt in my heart.