The mail girl slams my mail on my desk with her regular surliness. As I look up, she points her snarl downward to avoid accidental eye contact. I shake my head and pick up the three envelopes that caused so much frustration. The top two are interdepartmental memos that repeat information already relayed in emails. The return address on the envelope belongs to a local correctional facility.
I raise an eyebrow as I open the envelope. A single folded page of cheap paper falls onto my desk. I ponder the vaguely familiar handwriting as I begin to read.
“Norma,
“I know I took it upon myself to tease you every time I could when we were in high school, but nowI need help that only you can offer. If you are willing to forgive me or even just curious, come visit me during visiting hours. Either way, please don’t tell anyone about this letter.
“Yours,
“Amos”
“Wow.” I exhale sharply and place the letter facedown on my desk. “That’s a hard choice.”
“What is?” My cubicle neighbor Minnie peers around the corner of my doorway.
I remember the last line of the letter and gesture toward the piles on my desk, “where to start.”
“You and me both, sister. I always start with the smallest pile.”
“Wise.”
She turns back toward her own cubicle, tossing one final comment over her shoulder. “Just don’t get that desk too clean. That’s when people give you a new pile to shuffle through.”
“Oh, I know,” I force a laugh as I pick up the letter to read it again.
~~~
The conviviality and good will of the holidays leads me to a rash decision. That choice finds me standing in line outside the prison being eyed by a couple of shifty-looking men. Luckily, I dressed like I dress for work and my librarian chic and refusal to make eye contact eventually turns them off.
I continue shuffling forward with my eyes pointed toward the crumbling asphalt under my feet. When I finally reach the door, a gruff guard asks me a series of probing questions and runs a metal detector over me before pointing me toward a female guard. She gently pats me down and then turns me around to look into my eyes.
“First time?”
I nod.
“Don’t worry, honey, the boys act tough, but they are only tough with people who deserve it. They will keep you safe.” She inclines her head toward the gruff guard I had just interacted with.
He offers me the slightest hint of a smile before turning his attention back to the next visitor with his scowl firmly in place.
The female guard taps my arm. “You just go through those doors. That hallway leads right to the visiting room.” She pats me reassuringly on the back and sends me on my way.
The wide hallway features a hard concrete floor painted dark grey and brick walls coated in a thin wash of sickly yellowish green paint. I decide to focus my eyes on the floor. I follow the footsteps of the guard in front of me. When they stop moving, I halt and lift my head. He opens the door and holds it for me as I step inside.
“No touching. Don’t make eye contact with anyone but the guards or the person you are visiting. Let me know if you want to leave at any time.” He intones dully as I step into the room.
After that warning, I find it hard to lift my eyes upward to look for a vaguely familiar face.
“Norma,” a voice softly pulls me out of my contemplation of my shoes.
I slowly lift my head long enough to glance at the face of the slender man before me. “Amos?”
“Yep. Still Amos.” He grins softly.
The guard at his side gently pulls him toward one of the few small tables dispersed around the large room. “Behave, Amos, or you’ll lose some privileges.”
Amos blushes and sits wordlessly in one of the metal chairs. I try to pull out the one across from him only to realize the chairs are bolted to the table. I sit down, annoyed by the forced proximity.
“Sorry about the seating, Norma, but they don’t trust guys like me. They have their reasons.”
“I’m sure they do.” I clear my throat and take a quick glance around the room
I quickly realize Amos is the least scary person in the room aside from me. Even the woman visiting the man to our left looks like she could take on one of the guards and give him a fair fight. As her argument with her inmate escalates, I begin to worry that I might get to see my hypothesis tested. The guard closest to them makes a soft clucking sound, however, and she settles down.
“So, you said you needed my help?” I ask, returning my attention to Amos.
“I do. Assuming you got my letter at the real estate office.”
“I did…”
He pauses, biting his lip in thought for a moment for before leaning forward to tentatively speak. “So I got a letter from my mom. She can’t take care of her house. I need you to help her sell it and find a new place.”
“Any realtor could do that.”
“But I trust you.”
“You don’t know me.”
“Come on, Norma, you are the opposite of bad to the bone. And you always were a favorite of the little old ladies.”
I look at him questioningly.
“Every teacher we had who was close to retirement doted on you. You were so respectful and a bit of a know-it-all.”
“Didn’t you sleep through most of the classes we had together?”
“And yet I still noticed.”
“None of that makes me a better choice than Henry Perkins, who graduated with us and has been working at the real estate office twice as long as me.”
“What? You don’t want a commission?”
“I didn’t say that. I said I don’t believe you answered my question. And you definitely haven’t given me a reason to think this should be top secret.”
“You want the truth?”
“I just said that. At great length.”
He leans in. “Okay, first, my mother told me you work in the real estate office. Second, some people still think I have money hidden in my mother’s house.”
“Do you?”
“No, but that won’t stop a bunch of degenerates from trampling through the house and trying to tear It apart in an effort to find something that doesn’t exist.”
“And how am I supposed to keep that from happening?”
“You’re a realtor. Can’t you think of ways to weed out the treasure hunters.”
I nod my head. “We can skip open houses and I can just suggest private showings to people who are sincerely looking for a home.”
“This is why I needed to talk to you. Will you help her?”
“Give me her address and I will talk to her and let her know if I can help.”
“Thanks, Norma. I could kiss you, but..” He tilts his head toward the guard.
“And I wouldn’t let you.” I grin.
“And that. Thanks again for coming.” He stands up and takes a few steps toward the guard before turning to look at me over his shoulder. “It’s nice to see a friendly face.”
Amos leans in to whisper to the guard, who nods and pulls a notebook and pen from his pocket. He quickly scribbles something on the first page and then tears out the page and proffers it to me. I tentatively accept and giggle nervously as I realize it is Amos' mother’s address.
“Thanks.”
“No problem, ma’am.” The guard takes Amos’ elbow and leads him away.
I take longer strides exiting the building and quickly reach my car. As I put the car in gear, I decide to go look at the house I might be selling and see what I think.
~~As last submissions of the year go, this one wasn’t too bad, I hope. May the new year be filled with joy and health and delicious treats for all of you…and more fantastic writing…~~
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