Desire and Despair

Chapter 12

Nathan turned to look at the stranger hovering so close to his seat in the lounge. There was some kind of fear in his face, no matter how well he tried to mask it because not even a hardened criminal was immune to the steely iciness in Teddy's eyes. The rest of the prisoners did what they had to do, for themselves and their families, but Teddy was the purest form of criminal, a mere psychopath, unpredictable in his simplicity. He didn't go after what he needed, he'd never really needed any of it. He could've lived a long, luxurious life without lighting a single match. He went after what he wanted, and no one was quite sure what that was. All they knew was they wanted to stay off that list in any way possible. And Nathan was special, Teddy's old friend, the one person who dared to look him in the eye and disagree. So no one dared to lay a finger on Nathan, not that he looked so very intimidating on his own. A gust of wind could probably take him out. But when Teddy Appleton shoved his way into the picture Nathan went from wimpy whiner to prison royalty.

"Is-Is this seat taken," he finally managed.

Nathan smiled warmly. "No." He liked the idea of someone new to talk to. Most days it was just him and good old Teddy, and he was done trying with that. He was dying for some new friends. "I'm Nathan by the way."

The man smiled, seeming relieved at how nice he seemed. There were questions in his eyes too, of how in the world someone so friendly and unassertive had become one of the most feared people around, but at least he seemed to see past that a little. "I know," he replied. "I mean-that sounds weird-but you're kind of big news around here. The guy who tamed Teddy and all that."

Nathan laughed. "That's not exactly true. We met back in grade school, he wasn't half so terrifying back then. Not much to be tamed."

The guy smiled. "Oh that makes more sense. I'd always wondered, you seem nice. Oh and I'm Luke."

"How's the prison life so far," Nathan asked.

Luke grinned. "Funny thing is it hasn't been so bad. Other than your old buddy terrorizing the place in his spare time it's almost been a vacation. My life was headed down a pretty dark path, if I hadn't been out here I probably would've ended up dead in a ditch somewhere. This has really just been time to work on myself, I had to get clean, and I've had the chance to meet a lot of people who can relate to my struggles . It's crazy how much I appreciate it now. I've met some of my best friends here, strange as it is I don't think I'd trade it if I could."

And in that moment Nathan realized the deep irony of it all. His iron bars had set someone else free, his prison was their home. This place had broken him, but it had fixed someone else. It was so strange to hear someone else talk about it like that like it was a blessing, not a curse. He wished he could see it like that, but he'd lost too much in the process of showing up. He was happy for Luke of course, happy for everyone who got to be happy, who was still capable of it. But Luke's unattainable joy made him want to cry a little, and the way this life brought him the exact opposite made him want to laugh, and he couldn't quite decide which he wanted. It made him sad he'd never see this place like Luke did, that he might never feel so at home anywhere again, and yet the irony of it all couldn't be ignored, it was really almost funny how what destroyed him could make someone else so happy. Maybe it was perspective too, the way something that had brought him nothing but pain could mean good to someone else. Maybe he could find it in himself to hate it a little less just for people like Luke. Still, he envied their happiness, the way they'd fallen in love with what he hated. And yet he wouldn't trade places with them because he'd loved something better once upon a time, and those memories were priceless. He couldn't love prison because he'd had a better life once. There was beauty in what Luke said, in the way he had nothing to miss, the way he laughed with his friends while Nathan cried himself to sleep, and the happiness he found in the life he had to live. But there was tragedy too, in the way this was as good as it got for him, that this stupid world might be the best he ever had. In a way, Nathan wouldn't mind trading all his beloved memories for a few cheap smiles. In some ways, he envied Luke his simple joy. If he'd never had better, he could've been just like Luke, grinning in blissful ignorance as he assumed this was the best life got. He could've praised it wholeheartedly, called it his happiest time, with Luke's same blind cheerfulness. Because compared to the life he'd once lived, all alone, consumed by guilt for what he'd have to do to Teddy, this wasn't so bad. He wasn't loved but he was tolerated, no one would hurt him even if they didn't really care he existed, life had structure and order again. But after that, he'd gotten a life where he was loved, where people really cared, even if they were all gone now. He'd gotten so much better, and it had cursed him in a way, doomed him to always see the empty shadow of his past haunting his future. But he was also proud that once upon a time he'd had better. Sure he'd lost it, but for a few shining moments it had been his, and that meant more than a lifetime of dull grey behind bars.

"How's it been for you?" Luke returned the question courteously.

Nathan half-flinched at the question. Luke was just being polite, he knew, but he always hated when discussions came to this. He didn't want to disparage what made someone else happy. Prison was deficient in so many ways but if Luke couldn't see that it wasn't his job to open his eyes. The guy was happy here. Who was he to ruin that? It wasn't like they even had a choice in being here, they couldn't get any better even if they did care to try. Nathan didn't want to start his classic rant on how he hated everything. That was reserved for people like Teddy. Luke was a genuinely good guy. He deserved to be happy in his compromising way, even in this hellhole of a place if he could. But all the same, Nathan didn't want to say he loved it either. He wasn't all that honest, he could lie easily enough for the sake of polite conversation-no it's okay I was only waiting a few minutes, I didn't even notice, no problem, you're totally fine. Little white lies for the sake of society didn't faze his conscience at all. But he couldn't pretend he liked this place, not when he'd spent every day since he'd showed up railing against it to anyone who would listen. He'd made his hatred integral to him, the very core of his being, to deny it was to deny himself. He couldn't act like he was okay with all this, not when he'd had so much better once. He couldn't find humor in the cliche jokes that were never funny-must be nice to get a break from the kids, bet you love not having to cook for yourself, it's freezing back outside, must be nice to stay in, wish I didn't have to pick out a Valentine's gift this year, any spots left in prison? All the jokes meant to condescendingly make him feel better that never really landed because he wished more than anything that he could suffer every one of those little inconveniences over and over and over. It had always been worth it. And he knew jokes weren't meant to be taken seriously, but all the same, he never found them funny. They hit too close to home, he supposed. And though he knew they were just jokes he never wanted anyone to make the same mistakes he had, he didn't understand why anyone would romanticize prison, but still, some did. And as much as he hated their ignorance, as much as he wished they had a little more tact, he wouldn't wish this fate on anyone, no matter how stupid. He knew most of them didn't mean it but if anyone did...the idea of someone else having to go through what he had half-broke his heart, prison was one thing when it couldn't be avoided but the idea that they'd willfully choose it when he hadn't had the chance to shattered him completely. They had to know it was all a facade, he couldn't add to the lies. So he went with his classic answer, the easy way out, the cop-out reply that was the truth right now on some level, though he was sure he'd still be using this same excuse years from now when he'd had all the time in the world to do it. "I'm adjusting."