Catalyst

V

"Custodial duty."

Camila stares at Healy, her eyes bugging out in disbelief.

"You expect me.. scrawny and clumsy Camila, to scrub toilets on wet, slippery floors?" Camila asks, her voice laced with sarcasm and a little bit of anger.

"I could put you on a different job, say.. electrician?" Healy deadpans, and Camila raises her hands in surrender.

"Nope, no, custodial is good," she agrees quickly, earning an enthused grunt from Healy.

"Report to the bathrooms near the Spanish block. Suzanne is probably already there, she'll show you what to do," he says and waves toward the door, dismissing Camila.

She huffs as she shuts his door, making her way down the hallway. She can't believe that this is the shit that the inmates here have to go through. A loud whistle and a few catcalls from beside her as she walks past a stairway reminds her how much she hates it here.

Making her way into the bathroom, she stops at the entryway as she hears a soulful voice singing. It warms her heart momentarily, the thought that someone could still find time to enjoy themselves in this hell bringing a small smile to her face.

Finally walking in, she's greeted by the sight of a black woman with a mop, taking her sweet time cleaning the floors as she sings a gentle tune.

Then, she's greeted by the sight of the ceiling.

"Oh man, I forgot to put the wet floor sign down," Camila vaguely hears a few angry slaps before footsteps make their way toward her.

"Are you okay pretty?" She hears the woman ask her over the ringing in her head. Groaning slightly, she looks up to see the same woman offering her a hand. Taking it gratefully, she's hoisted up back to her feet.

"Thank you," Camila says sheepishly, "I'm just the clumsiest person in the world, it was bound to happen."

The woman smiles widely, showing all of her teeth as she repeatedly points at Camila. "I like you already, pretty. You're nice to me and make me feel.. normal. What's your name?"

"Cabello," Camila smiles. "You?"

"I'm Suzanne, but most people call me Crazy Eyes," Suzanne shrugs, and Camila can't help the furrow of her brow. Suzanne hands her a mop and motions for her to start cleaning the floor opposite of her.

"Make sure you walk away from where you've already mopped, pretty. You don't want to fall again. The guards here.. they don't care if you get hurt, but me? I care," Suzanne gestures to the floor as she speaks, and Camila can't help but smile as she nods.

"Why on earth would they call you Crazy Eyes?" Camila asks after a few moments of cleaning, getting used to the feeling of the mop moving across the floor.

"I don't know," Suzanne shrugs, and Camila can feel the insecurity and sadness in her tone. "Maybe it's because of when I talk, my eyes get all.. buggy, you know?"

Camila nods, taking notice to how when Suzanne speaks, she's incredibly demonstrative. Her hands move a lot, her face displays the emotion she's trying to convey, and her tone of voice dictates the urgency of her story or whatever she's saying. Camila finds herself appreciating it, it makes it easier for her to understand Suzanne's social cues. So the fact that people gave her some shitty name for it makes her kind of pissed.

"Fuck them," Camila offers as she cleans around the corner. "I've known you for what, ten minutes? And you've been the most genuine person I've met so far. I like you, Suzanne, and I might not be strong or anything, but I'll fight anyone who hurts you."