VIXEN

Chapter One: Return

FIVE YEARS LATER

The bathroom smelled just like the urine Vicks Ann was trying to irk out. The parole officer stood just outside the open door of the toilet cubicle.

"Sometimes its hard to piss when someone is standing right in front of you," said the parole officer.

Vicks Ann didn't answer but sat noiseless and urine-less with her panties down hanging loosely on her shoes. She held the plastic container between her legs and tried to position it in such a way that if she did pee – she would catch as much of the yellow fluid as possible.

"Lucky break getting out early," the parole officer offered.

"Not lucky."  She paused for effect. "Cancer." Said Vicks Ann.

"Well, out is out." Parole Officer was touching her mobile phone. "How long were you in?"

Vicks Ann starred at the parole officer. "Don't you have a document that tells you."

"I am too busy to read all the documents that get dropped on my desk."

Vicks Ann began to try and visualize a waterfall. Then she began to imagine rain. She then imagined... She felt it starting to come and then, nothing. "Five years ."

"What were you in for?"

"You really don't like to read." Vicks Ann said.

"Why when you will tell me?"

Vicks Ann took in a deep breath and tried to relax and began to imagine water in all it's forms. She could feel it starting to trickle out. Then, damn. "Drug trafficking." Vicks Ann fidgeted with the tiny plastic cup.

The parole officer turned to see her hands moving between her legs. "You need me to turn on the running water?"

Vicks Ann feigned a smile. "Please."

The parole officer reluctantly stopped tapping on her mobile phone and slipped it in her back pocket. Then keeping her view of the open door bathroom cubicle she turned the spigot and the water flushed out in full force.

Vicks Ann tried to become one with the water.

The parole officer returned and stood in front of her on the toilet hanging her hands across the frame of the door. "What kind of cancer?"

Vicks Ann lost her concentration. "Stage four breast cancer."

The parole officer blushed. "I am sorry."

Vicks Ann shrugged.  "Out is out."

She sat there trying to muster up yellow liquid for the authorities to show she had been released less than twenty four hours and she hadn't sniffed a line.

The parole officer dug her mobile phone back out and began touching and tabbing. "You have an Instagram?" The parole officer asked.

"My pee will show you that I am clean."

The parole officer looked up confused. "Instagram. Do you have an IG account?"

"Are you speaking Cantonese? I don't what the fuck you are saying."

"Instagram is a mobile app. It allows people to take photos and edit them and apply filters. Filters that make your pictures look vintage or black and white, or glossy."

"Keep in mind that my last phone was a Nokia."

The parole officer snorted a laugh.  "Damn those were great phones."