Only the Moon Watching

Chapter 55: We Should Panic

"Did it happen? How was it??"

Shiv and the girls encircle me the second I've stepped into the cafeteria, eyes wide and excited, like they're waiting for the details of a surprise engagement, or to hear the story of how I lost my virginity, moments after it happened.

"Quiet!" I hiss, leading them all to our table. We glare-down Grifta and Kristina Kelly as we pass them. Somehow, Grifta's acquired an entire bowl of oranges and she's juggling them, sitting on their table like a court jester.

"I wouldn't want the comparison," Shiv snarls. "Those things are the exact same color as Kristina Kelly's hair."

I can't tell if her eyes linger out of annoyance or lust. Once we're seated, I explain:

"There was a fight in visitation – not related to Mike and me – I have no idea what was happening. It was four guys I haven't seen before – I barely remember – but right before that, yeah, Mike said he'd–"

"Got something for ya." Chet's guard appears at our table. It's the first time I've really seen him up close. He's got a wad of bubblegum shoved in his lower lip, like chewing tobacco, and he's sweaty – he still smells like the visitation-room fight.

"Here," he pushes an orange pill bottle into my hands. My head jerks around, looking for Garda Girdle.

"She'd not here, that's why I'm doin' it. You'll have to send them up the bowl yourself."

"I shouldn't do that!" I hiss. "It's so risky, can't you just run them upstairs?"
"Your guard invited me to a little rendezvous in the break room," he winks. "Don't want her to ask, 'Are those drugs in your pocket or are ya just happy to see me?' And go in for a feel only to discover they are drugs. I don't have time to drop them on my way anyway, she's waiting. All the adrenaline from the fight's got her going... Shove those down your waistband," he insists.

He moves the bubblegum from one side of his mouth to the other while I hide the medicine.

"Good, now don't walk too fast, you'll rattle. Make sure my boy gets 'em."

He salutes us and hurries off.

"You look queasy, babe," Shiv says. "You want me to send them up for you?"

I shake my head. The pills stay securely in my waistband, stay quiet, but I'm convinced I hear them rattling. I'm convinced when I breath I sound like a pair of maracas, shivering.

"You look like you should go see the nurse," says Tangler. "Just lie and say the fight roughed you up. Got your stomach spooked again."

"No," I say firmly. "I can handle it. I need to get these to Steak ASA–"

"He's on laundry duty," Needler cuts over me. "I got the boys schedule this morning, over the bowl. He's not going to be back until late. Trustees had a mountain of work to do today – and then the fight probably delayed them – even more blood to wash off uniforms now, isn't there? And with Chet's guard and Girdle off messing around the boys'll be slower than usual..."

"C'mon," Shiv says, taking my arm. "We can at least hide them. You shouldn't be anxious about them all day."

I stand and point my feet towards the library.

"Where are you going?" Shiv whispers, pulling me back towards our room.

"Steak said the library was the safest place for my kites, I just thought..."

Shiv shakes her head no. "No one really wants your kites, Jos. This is totally different. If anyone overheard you've got drugs–"

"ADHD meds."

"–whatever– they'll be after them. They're safest in our room, and I'll sit guard over them."

Back in our room, Shiv shoves them under my mattress.

"If only we had some Pruno to keep us company," she sighs. (She hadn't started another batch since her time in Ad-Seg.)

I sit on my bed, right above the pills. I can't feel them, honestly, but I imagine I can: like I'm the Princess and the Pea or a dragon, protecting my baby.

"Ad-Seg was really miserable," I ask. "Wasn't it?"

"You have no idea," says Shiv. "It's soul-sucking. It's boring, and I thought I'd already known true boredom just being in here. I bet it fucks up your brain – that's what I can't stop thinking about every time I'm in there. I bet the lack of stimulation is bad for it. Like, for anyone under twenty-five or whatever, who isn't fully developed, it should be considered cruel and unusual punishment. Neglect. It's so wrong, Jos, I hope you never experience it."

I shudder.

"You won't," Shiv promises. "I swear to God no one is going to catch you with one tiny pill bottle. The second we hear footsteps up there we'll send it off. Chet'll have a better place to hide it...

"That dick!" she says suddenly. "The guard! Can't believe he'd leave them with us...ugh!" She flops onto her back, on her bed, and kicks at the ceiling. "I can't fucking wait to get out of this hell hole!"

But I don't share the sentiment. I want to stay in here as long as Steak does. Until I know he's really good, really alright, and back on his regular meds with the new doctor looking out for him...

I roll onto my side, facing the wall, and pull my arms underneath me, shivering even though I'm not cold. I still haven't heard from my parents. I still don't know if Mike really means what he said in his letters or if he's just so guilty he'd do anything to appease me. But I know, more clearly than I've ever known anything in my life, that I care about Steak.

My therapist would be proud of me, I think. I've just done my first truly selfless thing: smuggled medicine into jail, for someone I –

Love, I think firmly. I'll say it: love.

For the first time in a while, I don't have weird dreams. For the first night since Garda shoved me into this cell, I don't feel helpless or trapped or unsure. I'm certain – I love Steak.

And suddenly my cell doesn't seem so bad. My dreams aren't as confusing and twisted and terrifying. My blanket almost feels less scratchy...

I have twenty minutes of the best sleep I've had all month and then I wake up to an explosion.

At first I think it's the toilet – I flinch as the water hits me – expecting an overstuffed kite to come shooting out and land, sopping wet, on to my mattress. Instead, Shiv shrieks and flings herself out of bed.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no! Help me clean this up!"

Her hands are shaking, wet with something dark. Still half-asleep, my first thought is blood.

"What's going on?"

I stumble onto the floor next to her. She's cradling something in her arms...

"That one was so loud, Jos! What if someone heard? Check the door–"

"But what–?"
"It was Pruno!"

As I stumble to check that no one's awake in the hallway, my mind churns. But we didn't have Pruno... Shiv hadn't made a batch since her visit to Ad-Seg... How could a bag have exploded...?

"I don't know how it got in!" Shiv wails, panicking. She pulls off her shirt and turns it inside out but that does nothing to hide the dark stain blooming on it. Our beds are covered in red liquid too. It's on the ceiling, the walls, seeping into every crevice of the room.

"I went to sleep after you, I shouldn't – we should have slept in shifts, tonight... I wanted to wait for the boys to get back – we should have gotten rid of it! I just fell asleep I don't know what I was thinking–"
I want to tell Shiv to calm down but I can't. Dry mouthed, I turn to her, trying to convey with my eyes that we should panic: Garda Girdle's rushing down the stairs towards us, flash light in hand, her dark, beady eyes angrily fixated on the door to our room.