Jamie’s Song
By Jonica
Chapter 1
Her ponytail bobbed on the back of her head and sweat ran down her back. The late evening Mississippi sun beat down on the bare flesh at the back of her neck and shoulders. Her white t-shirt was sodden and sticking to her skin. Jamie is one of the only inmates at the Northwest Mississippi Correctional Facility who is allowed to own a sports bra. These were a luxury afforded prisoners here when they still had exercise equipment. That was before an inmate’s throat was crushed in a horrific accident where a barbell fell across her throat. Of course, Jamie is also one of the inmates who has been around NMCF long enough to know that ‘accident’ was an intentional act. However, that led to the removal of exercise equipment from the facility. Hence, there was no reason for the facility to offer sports bras.
Jamie found other ways to keep in shape, though. The prison yard was just big enough…if she ran along the fence line as close as she dared…for her to make a self-styled running track. Year in, year out, for six years, Jamie ran. She would stop in the middle of her running only to do some push-ups, sit-ups, and stretching exercises. Over the course of time, she wore a path around the prison yard that became known as “10538’s Path,” which was Jamie’s official Mississippi Department of Corrections inmate number.
Jamie has been here for 15 years…or more specifically, 14 years, 364 days, and 12 hours. Her parole begins in a little over 12 hours…and she is terrified. This is the only home she has known for 15 years…..15 years of dryness, soberness, and loneliness. When she was 18, Jamie entered a prison cell and has looked at the inside of one for all of her adult life up to this point. Jamie’s journey to adulthood came in a drug-induced haze of violence and savagery. That night is still a foggy, almost dreamlike memory. She has nightmares where she holds a gun to a young woman’s head while forcing her into the trunk of a car…her boyfriend holding a young man at gunpoint in the front seat of the same car. She dreams about holding the gun to the young man’s head as her boyfriend drove them to an ATM machine in the southern suburbs of Memphis. She remembers watching her boyfriend whip the young man with the pistol until he gave up his PIN number. She will never forget the $60 dollars the ATM machine spit out. She will always remember the price of her freedom for the next 15 years as being $60.45 cents: the money from the robbery, and the $.45 the bullet lodged in the young man’s skull probably cost.
Jamie got lucky. She agreed to testify against her boyfriend in exchange for the 15 year sentence without the possibility of parole for 15 years. In court, she testified that she watched in horror as her boyfriend took the young man to the bank of an overgrown ditch, and she watched as he shot him once in the side of the head. After that, she testified, they drove to the casinos near Tunica, MS., and attempted to carjack a Cadillac in the parking lot. However, their luck changed there. The owner of the Cadillac was an off duty police officer. He shot her boyfriend in the chest, thus ending their criminal career. All that time, Jamie testified, she and her boyfriend forgot about the woman in the trunk of the other car. Police found her…dehydrated but otherwise unharmed…during the investigation. After that, she sat in a Tunica County jail with a pending murder charge looming over her head. The other charges have already come down: Kidnapping, especially aggravated robbery, aggravated assault, attempted carjacking, and the pending murder charge that could earn her a trip to Mississippi’s death house. Fortunately for her…and her boyfriend…the young man clung to life and made an almost full recovery. The murder charge never came. She avoided the attempted murder charge by accepted the plea deal to testify against her boyfriend. 25 years for kidnapping and especially aggravated robbery. There would be no chance for parole for the first 15 years.
While incarcerated, Jamie was a model prisoner. She earned her GED and later a BA in arts from a local college. She is one of the very few prisoners in MDOC who have earned a four-year degree. When the time came for her first parole hearing, her crime was basically forgotten. The woman in the trunk had moved to California, and the boy with the bullet lived with his family in Florida. The man who shot him…Jamie’s boyfriend…would not be eligible for parole until he has spent 32 years in prison. He’s the one they were most interested in keeping.
With her hands on her knees, Jamie let the hot May sun beat on her back. Her sweat soaked shirt sticking to her skin. She was alone in the yard. Everyone knew she was getting out tomorrow, so the staff gave her time in the prison yard by herself. She would be segregated from the general population so that no one would get any ideas and attack her in an attempt to ruin her parole. Prisoners could be petty like that. Why should anyone get their freedom while they were still locked up? Jamie had to be careful.
Jamie took one last look around the prison yard. This will be her last run around the perimeter…she hoped. She would do what she had to do to make sure it was. Her new life would begin tomorrow. Jamie was scared. Life for a convicted felon is hard…to say the least.
Jamie finally goes inside and the correction officer allows her to shower. She peels off the sweaty clothes and lets the hot, steamy water wash away the sweat, grime, dead skin, and the last 15 years of life in prison. Another inmate comes into the shower, and Jamie tenses to see what will happen. Their eyes meet through the haze of steam, and Jamie remembers how she felt the first time she walked into the showers here at NWCF. The girl looks terrified. I guess that explains why she is segregated. Jamie returns her attention to the hot water and closes her eyes.
Chapter 2
The sun wasn’t shining the next day as Jamie stood at the bus stop in Greenwood, MS. The bus was late…delayed by the May thunderstorms rumbling through the area. The sky darkened as another round, more intense than the last, rumbled into the small city in the Mississippi Delta. Jamie thought of her family. Her father was never a part of her life, so she gave him little thought. Her mother, on the other hand was always around. Her mother was a mother in name only. She was a drug-addled prostitute. She gave birth to Jamie’s half-sister on the day she was arraigned. Over time, however, Jamie’s mother found Jesus. She gave up the drugs and the men. She found a legitimate job and she actually did a pretty good job raising Jamie’s half-sister by working the nightshift at as an IHOP waitress in Gulfport, MS. Her mother disowned her. It’s hard enough for a single mother to raise a child without having to worry about the one gone bad. However, Jamie’s little sister found out about her anyway. They have been pen pals ever since. Over the course of the last 15 years, Jamie has lived for only one thing: the day she will finally meet her sister. She has seen photos, but she can’t wait to actually lay eyes on her in person. That day is finally here. She is so excited that not even a tornado-warning siren a block away can dampen her spirit!
The bus ride is long, and the weather remains atrocious, but she finally arrives in Gulfport sometime after midnight. To her dismay, no one is there to meet her. Her sister said she would try to get her mother to come, but she could make no promises. Apparently, mom was not swayed by the thought of seeing her first born.
With a sigh, Jamie walks down the dark street toward a string of motels and casinos lining the Gulf coast. She has approximately $375 on her. She needs a place to stay to rest before beginning her new life of freedom.
She finds a relatively inexpensive motel, and she collapses on the bed without removing her clothes. She wakens to a stream of sunlight pouring in through the open restroom. When she looks at the clock, she sees it is way past five in the afternoon. She slept for almost 15 hours! The rest of the evening is spent with futile attempts to reach her sister. No luck. As a matter of fact, the next three days are spent the same way. Jamie’s mother would never allow her sister to send their address. She only had a post office box number. The address is unlisted. The search has turned up empty, and Jamie is running out of money.
Chapter 3
Life for a convicted felon is hard. Finding a job is almost impossible. Not even McDonald’s will touch Jamie. Not with her record. Every job application she fills out asks for her criminal history. Jamie is trying to be a honest person. The applications are always denied. Her parole officer actually takes pity and sends her to a few businesses that may help. Unfortunately, they don’t have anything. It’s a tough economy. As a side note, Jamie did manage to get her sister on the phone. They agreed to meet the next day. However, her sister no-showed, and when Jamie called the number again….she got a message that the line had been disconnected.
The outside was supposed to be very different. Looking back, Jamie isn’t sure what she should have expected, but she didn’t expect overwhelming depression. She’s down to her last $50 and she is getting hungry. If she doesn’t find a job soon, she will be unable to pay her parole officer. She will be back in prison in no time. She considers hopping a bus to New Orleans, where the job market might be better, but her sister is in Gulfport, not New Orleans, and she isn’t supposed to leave the state.
Mired in a funk and loneliness that matches the one she felt during the long, lonely nights of her incarceration, Jamie finally collapses on a city park bench and puts her head in her hands. Tears flow between her fingers and a taboo thought enters her head. The thought begins to really take seed, and in her current condition, Jamie seriously considers suicide for the first time in 13 years. Of course there were times she thought about it until she acclimated to institutional life, but this is the first time she has seriously considered it since she was 20. Such was her desperation and despair.
Tears flow between her fingers. She is crying so hard now that she can’t control herself. Her shoulders lift and fall with each choking sob. All the memories of the last 15 years come flooding back: The years of drug abuse. The robbery. The shooting. God, how she wishes she could turn back time and right all the wrongs.
Crying so hard and so long, Jamie does not see the middle-aged woman wearing black approach. She doesn’t sense anyone near…such is her despair…until the woman speaks softly to her, “Cry it out. You’ll feel better afterwards.”
Jamie jumps at the sound, but the voice is so soothing she actually feels a little comforted. A warm hand caresses her hair. Jamie has always been a guarded person, but this time she actually feels safe. Almost like when one of the better correction officers was on her housing unit. She knew nothing bad would happen that day.
Jamie doesn’t even resist when her face is pulled to the stranger’s shoulder. She smells clean fabric and a light whiff of perfume hits her, but nothing feels dangerous. She continues to let the stress of the last 15 years pour from her. Finally, the tears begin to dry and she develops a bad case of the hiccups. After awhile, she is able to catch her breath and she sees the stranger before her.
The older woman is dressed in a fine dark blue pantsuit. Her hair is perfectly coiffed, and her expensive jewelry shines in the bright Gulf sunlight. What is she doing in this downtown park talking to a convicted felon? Jamie wonders to herself, but something about the stranger puts her at ease. The woman smiles and simply says, “You can tell me about it, if you wish. I am a good listener.”
For the next hour and a half, Jamie bared her soul to a total stranger in a city park. She held nothing back. Nothing. Not the drugs. Not the robbery, nor the shooting. She told the stranger about her sister, and her futile attempts to find her. She told her about her attempts to get a job. She even told the woman about the thoughts of taking her own life. When she was finished telling her whole life story to someone she doesn’t even know, Jamie fully expected the stranger to quickly make an excuse to get away from her. However, before she knew it, she was riding in the front seat of a late model Cadillac heading for a home on the coast in Pass Christian.
Two days later, after being fed and allowed to rest, Jamie showed up at the address the older woman provided her. It was a restaurant in downtown Biloxi owned by the woman’s son. She walked in expecting a job interview. She wasn’t expecting to be handed an apron and ticket book. Four hours of training later, and Jamie was waiting on her own customers. The woman’s son turned out to be as friendly as she was.
Jamie got a little money and after some time, the woman’s son, Phillip, helped her get an apartment in Biloxi. For the first time in 15 years, her life was looking up. However, Jamie still hasn’t seen her sister, and the pain is becoming evident. She would work double shifts just to get her mind off her sister. The phone number never reconnected. Every attempt to find a new one was a dead end. The hole in Jamie’s life kept getting deeper and deeper. Even though she was free, she was still bound.
Chapter 4
A few weeks into her new job, Jamie was called into her boss’ office. She has gotten to know him fairly well, and she feels pretty comfortable with him. She knows he is happily married, so she doesn’t feel threatened in that way. She enters his office and sits across from him. He has a very kind smile, but there is something in his eyes that makes her a little nervous, but she still doesn’t feel threatened. She is just grateful to finally be making her own way.
“Jamie, you have become my best waitress. In a short period of time, you have developed a pretty good clientele here. Many come in and immediately ask for you.”
Jamie smiles shyly, not sure where her boss is going. It almost sounds like she is about to get a promotion. A raise in pay would certainly be welcome.
“I have a new job proposition for you. A woman with your looks could make a lot more money that you ever would waiting tables.”
As he says this, his eyes drift down her thighs and back up again. For the first time in weeks, Jamie feels nervous around this man.
“Sir, I…”
Her boss must have picked up on the sudden nervousness in her voice, and he holds his hand up to cut her off. “Jamie, you are a beautiful woman. How you managed to stay so youthful and vibrant under your circumstances is amazing. The world is your oyster, and this could be the first step.”
Jamie’s mind races as she tries to process what he is telling her. What is he going to ask her to do? She will never prostitute herself. For one thing, that could lead back to prison. For another, she wants to live a life of honesty and integrity from here on out. No, she will do nothing illegal.
Again, her boss must read what she is thinking in her eyes. “Jamie, what I am going to ask is not illegal. I would never ask you to do anything that would compromise your freedom.” Jamie sighs, but keeps listening intently, “But this is an opportunity to really better yourself. For you….and your sister.”
Now she is hooked. “We found her, Jamie. Your mother will not let her see you, but we think if you can show you can take care of yourself without having to rely on someone else, she may have a change of heart.”
Jamie leans forward, now intent on every word. “Your sister is sick. She needs a kidney transplant. That’s why you can’t reach her. She’s in the hospital in New Orleans. They are looking for a donor.”
“I-I-I have to go there….” Jamie begins, but her boss raises his hand to cut her off again.
“Your mother has told the staff not to let you in. She told them you are on parole. She will have you arrested for crossing state lines.”
Jamie sobs once and puts her face in her hands. Tears sting her eyes as the hopelessness of the situation hits her.
“Jamie. You have a chance, though. If you accept my offer.”
For a moment she keeps her head in her hands and cries. After a few minutes, however, she lifts her eyes and says, “I’ll do anything.”
Her boss sits back in his chair with a smile and says, “Perfect.” Then he outlines his plan.
Jamie walks out of his office 15 minutes later, not believing what she just agreed to do.
Chapter 5
The next night, Jamie walks into a seedy, rundown warehouse near the docks in Gulfport. A steady rain is falling outside, but it can’t match the storm in her soul. She still cannot believe what she has agreed to do. Maybe she really has lost her mind. She consoles herself by saying at least she isn’t prostituting herself. She carried a small bag filled with only the items she was told to bring.
Taking a look around the parking lot, Jamie couldn’t believe the number of cars there. Surely they aren’t here for this, she thinks to herself. She rolls her eyes and walks to the door she was told to go through. When she opens it an absolute gorilla of a man meets her! He has to be at least 6’8” and weighs somewhere in the neighborhood of 340 lbs. At least! He’s obviously a biker. He has all the hair, tattoos, and patches…including a One Percenter patch. This guy is the real deal. However, Jamie has to bite her lip to keep from laughing when he talks, “Right this way, ma’am.” His voice is that of a prepubescent teenager. She looks at the rippling muscle under his hair and has to gulp though. He is huge! He seems harmless enough, however. She still tries hard not to laugh out loud.
The giant leads her to a small room with a table, some chairs, and a sofa. He tells her there is a shower through the far door. She looks at him and he smiles, “No one will bother you. I promise.” He blushes as he makes his little promise, and she almost laughs again, but she is positive she will be safe in here.
She slowly begins removing her clothes until she is completely naked. She covers her breasts with her arms even though she is certain no one is watching. Taking a towel from her bag, she follows the instructions her boss gave her. The bathroom is out of place. It would fit in the finest apartments in the city. Jamie steps onto the cool tiles and lets the hot water stream down her body. She scrubs and scrubs until she feels the warmth soak into every pore. She washes her hair and steps out of the shower wrapped in towels. Drying her body, then her hair, she stands before a steamed over mirror and brushes her hair because this is her nervous habit when she is thinking. Jamie is scared. She is more worried than she has ever been in her life.
After a few minutes of brushing her hair and worrying, she looks at the clock and sighs. She has to get ready. She gathers what she was told to wear from her bag, and dresses. Then she begins doing something she is good at: She starts stretching and warming up. She feels this will come in handy when the real festivities begin.
Jamie stretches and does some light exercising for about 15 minutes then she hears a knock on the door. Her heart almost stops as she looks at the clock. It’s time. She takes a deep breath and reminds herself that she is doing this for her sister. She pulls her brown hair back into a tight ponytail and opens the door. The giant is standing there with a sheepish smile. “It’s time,” he says, and Jamie has to bite he lip to keep from laughing. She nods and they begin walking down a dark corridor.
The long hallway is cool and dank. There is relatively little light, so Jamie has to walk so close to the giant that she fears she will bounce off him if he stops abruptly. She actually does run into him when he stops at a door. She starts to apologize, but he beats her to the punch, “I’m sorry, miss.” He says almost like an impish child. Jamie is too nervous to laugh now, though. She simply replies, “It’s ok.”
The giant turns to her with his hand on the door handle, “If they get out of hand, I won’t let them hurt you. They can be assholes sometimes,” he says with utmost sincerity. Jamie looks up and simply says, “Thank you.” She is sure he means it. The giant nods then turns the handle. Light pours into the recess and Jamie sees what may be her destiny.
Chapter 6
The interior of the warehouse is huge! It has been stripped of all mechanical equipment and replaced with rows of seats along three sides. Another few rows cover the fourth side and all face a central point. It is toward this central point Jamie and the giant head. A huge overhead light glares down on that point, but Jamie really can’t see what it is shining down on because all the seats are occupied. She feels hundreds of eyes on her as she walks behind the giant. There is no applause. Nor is there any booing. As a matter of fact, there are no sounds except for that of a hundred people breathing. Their eyes gaze at her curiously. She walks with her head down, not wanting to meet any of those eyes. Jamie has to constantly remind herself this is for her sister.
They finally reach the outside of the central point of the room, and Jamie gets her first good look at it. It looks like a horse pen surrounded by a wooden fence. It isn’t very large….maybe 25 ft by 25 ft. The floor is a hard wood washed very clean. It looks like it was recently mopped. Recently as in the last five minutes. In the middle of that ring stands a young girl of maybe 18 or 19. She is dressed almost exactly like me, except the oversized t-shirt she is wearing is black with a New Orleans Saints logo. Her eyes look at me with curiosity…and maybe a little fear.
Jamie forgets about the crowd for a few minutes and returns the blonde’s curious start. How did she get here? Is she like me? Jamie ponders if this girl is any different than she was at 18. Of course there are physical differences. This girl is at least 5’7 and weighs probably around 130 lbs. Jamie is close to that height at 5’6, and she weighs a healthy 120 lbs, thanks to all the running she did in prison.
Of course there was the age difference. Jamie is at the most 15 years older than this girl, but Jamie is pretty sure she is in better shape. However, there is no indication that will mean much in this situation. It doesn’t hurt, but Jamie saw many fights over the years she was in prison. The fat girls usually did pretty well. In the few fights Jamie was in, she lost badly to a heavier, out of shape girl, won another one, and probably would have lost the third if officers hadn’t shown up.
However, this isn’t prison, and this girl looks like she is about to jump out of her skin.
“Welcome ladies.”
I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear the familiar voice and it snaps me back to reality. I start at my boss, Phillip, who is standing between the other girl and me. He is looking back and forth at both of us, and he has a warm smile on his face.
“Ladies, I would like to introduce you to each other.” He nods at the young blonde. “This is Leslie. Leslie is a waitress at a casino in Gulfport. She’s been in a few catty fights back when she was in high school. Nothing serious.” He smiles and nods at Jamie. “Now, this gentlemen is Jamie. She is a manager at my restaurant in Biloxi.” Jamie’s eyes cut to him. A manager? That’s new. “She recently moved to Biloxi from,” Jamie cringes because now everyone will know she is a convicted felon, “…the northern part of the state, near Memphis.” Jamie visibly relaxes a little. “She’s a little older than Leslie, and she has been in more than one fight.” He steps back leaving Jamie and Leslie facing each other and says, “Now ladies, please shake hands and good luck.”
Jamie and Leslie look at one another with the same curiosity they have had since their eyes first met. They shake hands, but Leslie pulls her back a little quickly. She is scared to death. Jamie thinks she can use this to her advantage. Or maybe it may make all the difference for Leslie.
“The rules are simple, ladies,” Phillip says from the outside of the ring. “Fight until one of you cannot continue. We have already discussed the rewards. There is a lot to be gained for the one who earns it.” A quick glimpse of his face shows a wolfish smile, “You may now begin.”
Chapter 7
Jamie watches as her opponent steps back and removes her black Saints t-shirt. Underneath she is wearing a red bikini with American flags that she obviously bought at Wal Mart. Jamie knows it came from Wal Mart because she almost bought an identical one. Jamie is now glad she opted for a black one with white hibiscus prints. The girls simultaneously kick off their flip-flops. Jamie feels the cold, hard wood under her feet…the swabbing of the floor still evident under her bare feet. The odor of a strong, industrial cleaner hangs in the air. Jamie watches Leslie closely and sees that the girl looks like she might bolt and run if she says so much as, “Boo!” Leslie is a real beauty, but she has evidently had a rough life. That much is evident from the multiple cuts up and down her forearms. She has either tried to kill herself a few times, or she was/is a cutter. Multiple tattoos cover her upper arms and her shoulders. There’s even a tribal thing imprinted on her upper left arm. A pretty black rose is prominently displayed on her right breast. Her stomach shows slight evidence of stretch marks. Seems Leslie might be a mommy. Jamie saw enough stretch marks, living with inmates, to know a mommy when she saw one. However, the blonde isn’t as soft as she first appeared. Her arms are toned from long nights of carrying drink trays to intoxicated assholes at the slot machines. Her legs are lean and strong looking from all the walking she has done crossing the casino floor. She probably has good balance from much practice keeping those drinks on her tray while gamers cheer wildly or cry desperately. The ancient blisters on her feet tell the story of the long nights on her feet. This girl has had a rough life. Jamie thinks of her own sister. Will she turn out like Leslie? That is, if she survives her affliction. A dark anger fills Jamie’s throat when she thinks of the unfairness that has befallen her sweet sister. That anger turns to hatred for life in general. A red, hot steam fills her mind just as Leslie’s first punch slams into her jaw.
Jamie’s head snaps violently to the right and she nearly goes down to one knee. The crowd finally makes noise…erupting into cheers and derisive comments aimed at one...or both…of them. Leslie tries to follow the opening punch with a follow up left jab, but walks straight into a flurry of punches and slaps.
Jamie gets her balance and sees the second punch coming. She keeps her head low and plows forward under the punch right into the blonde’s sternum. Her fists pound out two fast punches that land right between the blonde’s smallish breasts causing her to backpedal. Jamie keeps chasing her across the ring and finally against the rails. The blonde hits the hard wooden fence with surprised yelp just as Jamie rifles a hard jab at her face. The punch snaps the taller girl’s head back as if on a hinge, but she shows she still has some fight in her. She is frightened after all, but as any dog owner will tell you, the most dangerous animals are the ones who are backed into a corner.
A tiny drop of blood falls from the blonde’s lip as she shoves against Jamie and locks her arms around her opponent’s back like a boxer. Jamie takes a few steps back, herself, then braces her feet and begins hammering short punches into Leslie’s sides. Each blow brings a little grunt from the blonde’s lips that would be cute under any other circumstance. In this one, though, they tell Jamie the punches hurt. The blonde presses forward, though, pushing her smaller opponent backwards until Jamie stumbles over her own feet and crashes to the floor. The blonde stumbles and falls on top of her.
The two women then clench their arms around each other and roll back and forth across the hardwood floor. The room echoes with thumps and bumps as their elbows, knees, hands, and heads make contact with the floor. Jamie never thought Leslie would put up such a hard fight. Maybe her prison attitude was carrying over even on the outside. While incarcerated, life becomes a game of hunter and prey even for women. It is possible to avoid this game, but it is very difficult. For the most part, Jamie managed to stay on the sidelines. However, it took a few well-timed punches and some vicious hair pulling. In the end she walked out of prison with her head held high, and her dignity somewhat intact.
The bigger girl braces her hands on the floor, and the rolling comes to a stop. This is bad for Jamie because Leslie is straddling her foe. The blonde begins to throw wild punches into the older woman’s head, chest, and shoulders. Jamie brings her arms and hands up for defense, but many of the wild blows find their mark. One right jab, in particular, rocks Jamie’s head back so hard that it thumps off the floor behind her, leaving her dazed. Staring at the blonde as she keeps punching and punching, Jamie considers giving up. This is getting painful! However, she thinks of her sister and the desire to be with her becomes too great. Phillip never said he wouldn’t help her if she lost this fight, but Jamie really doesn’t want to take that chance. She has to get to her sister. That has become the rallying cry of her life!
Jamie’s feet slap the floor and she bucks her hips as hard as she can in an attempt to force the bigger girl off. She becomes a constant blur of motion as she struggles to get from under the younger girl, even with punches raining down on her hands and arms. Finally, she gets lucky when she strikes out with a wild slap. The slap, itself, doesn’t find it’s mark, but her thumb catches Leslie in the eye. The bigger blonde’s hands go to her face, and Jamie hammers a hard right into her foe’s unprotected tummy. She simultaneously bucks her hips causing the bigger girl to lose her balance and tumble onto her side.
Jamie comes up as fast as she can in a blur of hands and feet….punching and kicking at her stunned opponent. The bigger girl squeals and tries to roll away, but Jamie grabs her bikini bottoms and pull as hard as she can. The thin material rides up into the younger girl’s butt crack causing another squeal that, in turn, causes the audience to erupt in laughter. This infuriates the humiliated Leslie and she drives her elbow back into Jamie’s breastbone with such force that it knocks the fast approaching brunette onto her butt.
Jamie lands so hard that she fears her tailbone has chipped. She rubs her chest and tries to catch her breath; all the while the big blonde is bearing down on her. Leslie gets to her feet and walks deliberately forward. One of her eyes has a dark ring forming under it, and her lower lip is puffy, but she isn’t bleeding any longer. As she approaches the stunned older woman, Leslie raises her foot and stomps down on Jamie’s shin.
“NNGGGGHHHHHHHGGHHHAAAAGGHHHH!!!!!”
Jamie’s scream reverberates around the room. The audience is now sitting in stunned silence watching the spectacle in front of them. From the time Jamie first laid eyes on the younger girl, Leslie hasn’t said a word. Not one. She starts talking now, however.
“You’re fucking dead you old bitch.” Her voice would be sweet under normal circumstances. An image of her taking a drink order flashes through Jamie’s shell-shocked mind. “And what can I bring you? We have Bud Light on tap, Michelob in a bottle….”
The calmness in Leslie’s eyes as she makes one statement makes Jamie’s blood run cold. It doesn’t help that as she’s talking, she is grabbing Jamie’s ponytail and yanking so hard that Jamie is forced to go onto all fours to keep her neck from snapping. With her left hand wrapped in the ponytail, she can use it as a lever to guide her victim wherever she wants to go. In this case, she twists so hard Jamie is forced to look down. Her chin touches her chest. Then Leslie draws her right back and begins slamming well-aimed punches into the back of Jamie’s head and neck…each one causing the brunette’s teeth to rattle.
Jamie sags to the floor. Her sister’s voice echoes in her head, and it seems to be getting farther and farther away. Tears drip onto the hardwood floor. Jamie senses her sister has slipped through her grasp. She has no doubt she will be tossed to the wayside following this disaster. Another punch sends her sprawling to the floor. Dirt and grime stick to her sweaty body. She can’t focus. The pain has made her numb. Leslie lets go of her hair and drops her knee into the small of Jamie’s back with such force she nearly loses control of her bladder! “Nhhhhhh.” She grunts weakly. She lays on the floor with tears streaming down her cheeks. She has failed. She has failed her sister. The one person in the world who depends on her, and Jamie has failed her.
Leslie’s bare toes tickle Jamie’s cheek, smearing the tear. “You done, bitch?” She asks in her barmaid voice. No response comes, so she pushes her toes into Jamie’s cheek, causing her mouth to open in a nasty grin. “I asked you a question? Are you done?” Jamie’s eyes focus on the blonde’s toes. She recently had a pedicure. One of the things you become pretty good at in prison is judging foot size. That way you know whom to befriend so you can get their boots when they leave. Prison is complex and simple at the same time. Leslie has pretty big feet…probably an 8…maybe 8 ½. They are cute feet too. That’s another thing one finds herself judging in prison: feet. Jamie has fond memories of the long, cold nights she spent locked in an 8x12 cell with her roommate…and part-time lover…Amanda. Amanda was in for armed robbery. She too made some very poor choices. She too was young. Amanda liked to run too. She is probably still tackling the 10538 Trail. Amanda had the smallest toes Jamie had ever seen on an adult. The two of them spent many long, lonely nights caressing and massaging each other’s feet. There are some memories from prison Jamie will look back upon with fondness.
The ball of Leslie’s foot pushes on Jamie’s head again, “Answer me and I won’t hurt you anymore.” Leslie’s voice now carries a hint of laughter. Then her foot slams down between Jamie’s shoulders, driving her chest into the floor, knocking the wind from her again. “I said answer me bitch!” Leslie apparently has a cruel streak.
Thinking of prison brings back the memory of things Jamie wanted when she was finally granted her freedom. All she wanted was a family. As a matter of fact, that is all she has ever wanted. In prison, Amanda was her family. Out her, she has none. Her sister is slipping from her grasp more and more each day. She closes her eyes and the words come to her lips. She is ready to give up. But then she thinks of her sister lying in a New Orleans hospital, dying. She has wanted nothing more than to see her. Now she wants nothing more than to see her once. Just give me one chance.
“What was that?” Another kick slams into her shoulder blades.
“Ngggghhhh,” Jamie grunts, but her eyes pop open. She hasn’t been angry since she was 18. There is no reason to be angry when you are facing 15 years looking at cold, gray walls. She did that to herself. No reason to be angry then. But she has a reason to be angry now. She locks her eyes on those toes with the perfect pedicure. Anger surges into her throat and grows hot as it washes into her face. For the last 15 years, Jamie has had nothing to focus on except finding her family. Now she has someone to focus on for the short term. The one person who seems to be standing between her and the opportunity she has wished for over those last few years. She focuses on those cute toes…so long and perfect. They are painted a very cute shade of hot pink. I guess the color is coral. Then those toes seem to tense and they grip the floor. Jamie times it for a second then pushes her hands against the floor and does a perfect pushup.
Leslie’s foot comes down for another stomp, but she is still just starting the motion and the pushup catches her off guard. She loses her balance as Jamie’s upward motion changes the plane of her foot. When she tries to lower her leg, it lands on Jamie’s side. The older woman is turning toward her and that makes Leslie get further off balance. Then Jamie lashes out with a wild kick at Leslie’s balancing knee.
“Aggghhhhh!” The blonde screams, as her knee is suddenly hyper extended backwards. The sole of Jamie’s foot pushing against the kneecap with such force, Leslie actually drops like a rock onto the hardwood floor, face first. Her head thumps and she signs once and goes limp.
The frustration, desire, and yes, the anger, of the last 15 years overwhelms Jamie. She grabs the fallen girl’s head and slams her face first onto the hardwood floor so many times Jamie loses count. Rolling her victim over, Jamie straddles her chest and pins her victim’s upper arms with her knees. For the next minute and a half, she rains punches from every angle down on the barely conscious blonde until she stops moving. Tiring of this, Jamie gets to her knees, but she grabs Leslie’s hair…pulling her onto her side. As she stands, she forces the blonde to get to her knees. Leslie obeys and hangs her head limply. Her lips move as if she is trying to speak, but the words do not come. Although still angry, Jamie looks at her boss. He has a smile, but he says, “Finish her, Jamie.”
That simple sentence can mean so many different things, but Jamie only registers one: End this now, or forget about ever finding your sister. Jamie yanks the blonde’s head up and draws her right fist back. As she rockets the punch at the beaten girl’s jaw, she drops to one knee to get even more force behind it. A funny thing happens, though. Leslie finally opens her mouth to speak…probably to ask for mercy…or at least that’s what Jamie later thinks. However, her mouth opens at the wrong time.
Jamie’s punch slams onto Leslie’s lower mandible with such force she can feel the crush of the bones. She will never forget the look of shock and horror on the blonde’s face as she crumples to the floor unconscious with her lower jaw hanging at such an odd angle. Jamie sits down heavily beside her victim, just staring….her unbelieving eyes staring at her handiwork with her own horror. The room is so quiet she hears a strange hissing and feels something warm on her foot. When she looks down, she gasps and shoves the beaten girl away from her with her feet…recoiling violently from the growing pool of urine. The crowd actually laughs at this sight! They think Jamie is making fun of her victim. They couldn’t be farther from the truth. She caused this. For the second time in her life, Jamie is the source of someone’s misery. Suicide looks like the most viable option.
Chapter 8
The giant finally enters the pen and helps her to her feet. He leads her down the long dark corridor to her dressing room. She sits and stares at the walls of her new cell for at least an hour. Tears flow down her face.
A knock on the door brings her back to reality. Wrapping a towel around herself, she lets Phillip into the room.
“You were a hit,” He says dispassionately.
“H-How is s-she?” Jamie asks, her voice quivering.
“She’ll survive. That was quite a punch.”
His blasé attitude infuriates Jamie. “Please take me to my sister.”
“In good time. Your next fight is a week from today.”
Jamie looks at him in shock. “Next fight? I’m not doing that again!” She states flatly.
For the first time in the short frame she has known him, Phillip frightens Jamie. That tends to happen when someone grabs you by the throat and you nearly black out. Phillip’s hand clamps down tightly. “You made me a lot of money tonight. That won’t change. What would your parole officer think of your new career?” The threat isn’t even implied. If her parole officer found out about Leslie, she would spend the next ten years in prison.
Phillip lets go of her throat with a shove. As she staggers back, Phillip flips an envelope to her. “I almost forget. Here’s your pay. Good night’s work.” His sweet smile returns and it’s like the previous two minutes never happened. “See you tomorrow. Let Robbie know if you need medical attention.”
With that, he is gone. A glance in the envelope tells Jamie she just earned more money than she would make in three months at the restaurant. What of that poor girl, though?
A warm shower takes care of many of the aches and pains of this night, but her mind keeps coming back to the Leslie and her jaw. Hot tears sting her eyes when she opens her door. “Robbie?” The giant’s eyes move to her shyly when she says his name. “Take me to the hospital.” Without a word, Robbie complies.
Later that night, Jamie finds the room. She spends the next 15 hours sitting with Leslie, holding her limp hand and whispering over and over, “I am so sorry.” She didn’t believe she could ever run out of tears.
Later the next day…after she finally nodded off…a grip on her hand wakens her. She looks up into Leslie’s blue eyes and gets another squeeze of her hand. The look in those blue eyes tells her she is forgiven.
