Then There Was You (13 page)

His brown eyes slowly tore themselves away from the barred window and settled on mine. “I wish that were true,” he said dejectedly.

“It
is
true, Chris. You worry about needing a reason to live? You, Malik, and the rest of these boys here make a difference in
my
life every day. I don’t know where I’d be if it weren’t for you guys.”

Tears sprang to my eyes. I tried to swallow back the lump in my throat, but it was too late. Big, silent tears slipped from my eyelids and slid down my cheeks. I quickly grabbed a tissue from the box on my desk, dabbing it under my eyes. While I knew I might have been taking a big risk in saying it, I needed him to understand where I was coming from, so I whispered, “You are the reason I
choose life
every day.”

Chris saw the first tear fall from my face, and he immediately lowered his eyes. “Aw, shit, Mrs. Honeycutt…” he began, but rendered speechless. For a few silent moments, he watched me, seemingly embarrassed by my admission, but also touched and maybe a little curious.

Finally finding his voice, he stammered, “I… I don’t even know what to say.”

Gathering my composure in an attempt to regain my professionalism, I assured him, “You don’t have to say anything. Just walk away from this session today knowing that I need you here. Everyone needs you here. You have so much to offer. Use your gifts and your talents to make the world better. I just know you’re going places. I can feel it.”

A hint of a smile played on his lips as he wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Maybe I’d hit home. Did I overstep the bounds of my training to get through to him? Probably. Was it worth it? Absolutely.

After several more minutes of surface talk, I glanced at the clock. The time for our short session had ended.

I stood up to usher Chris to the door of my office where Officer Blevins was waiting for him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to break down in front of you today. I just hope you’ll think about what I’ve said and really let it soak in.”

Chris nodded. “It’s okay, Mrs. H. I will. Thank you.”

“You know I love you boys. I just want the best for all of you,” I told him and patted him on his back.

“We love you too, Mrs. H. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

“You’d manage,” I quipped, attempting to lighten the mood.

Casually shrugging his shoulders, he teased, “Maybe.”

We were both laughing when Officer Blevins stepped around the corner and smiled. “Another happy customer, huh?”

“You bet,” Chris said, giving him a thumbs up.

“Great,” Officer Blevins beamed, “Now we’re off to KP duty.”

“Ugh,” Chris groaned, slumping his shoulders and hanging his hands by his side. “I hate kitchen patrol.”

“You and everyone else in this place,” Officer Blevins grinned. “But it has to be done, and you’re on the schedule.”

“Okay. Bye Mrs. H,” Chris called as Barry escorted him toward the cafeteria.

“Bye, Chris.” I waved, then shut my door and sighed. I had such high hopes for that kid. I had faith that he’d get his act together once he got out of this place so he could put his talents to good use.

Knowing the possibility of the positive impact I could be having on their lives felt like a personal high for me. Considering I was at an all-time low in my personal life, these kids kept me balanced, giving me eight hours a day to escape my own personal hell. While I struggled with my demons, I felt empowered knowing that I could help someone else with theirs.

The next day, I sat with Malik in my office. I was trying to get him to talk about the situation with Toombs that seemed to be escalating. That was probably my first mistake.

“Would you be willing to tell me what’s going on with Toombs?” I asked, hoping he’d take the bait.

“It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with,” Malik assured me, snapping his head to glare out the window, clearly uninterested in discussing it any further.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “I saw him staring you down in the cafeteria yesterday, and today I saw him slam his shoulder into you when he walked by. What’s that about?”

“Look, Mrs. H., I’ll tell you again, it’s nothing… nothing I can’t handle.” Malik ran his hands over his thighs and anxiously bounced his feet on the floor, seemingly eager to end the conversation.

I motioned toward the door, indicating an invitation for Toombs to join us. “Maybe we should bring him in here and handle it togeth—”

“Forget it!” Malik barked, slamming his hands on the armrests of the chair and stilling his feet.

I flinched. I knew I needed to quickly diffuse his temper. “Malik, look—”

“Mrs. H,
you
look,” he countered, pointing a stiff finger toward my face. “Get a fucking clue, alright. You’re sweet. It’s nice of you to wanna help, but you can’t. You wanna walk around Fairbanks trying to save the world, but I’ve got a news flash for you… Fairbanks ain’t the real world. You can’t
save
us. When we get out of here, we’re going back to the same hell we came from while you sit in your office talking bullshit about reaching for the stars and finding pots of gold at the end of rainbows. That’s not real life! Out there,” Malik bit out, pointing toward my window, “is the real world… with drugs, and crime, and debts to be paid, and fucked up families. So don’t sit here and pretend that you can understand me… or any of us. You can’t! You want to live this fairytale dream that things will change for us one day, but they won’t! Toombs is just the tip of a bigger problem that you can’t even
begin
to understand. So don’t even fucking try! Okay?” Malik trembled with pent up anger.

I started to reach out to him, but realized quickly that I needed to keep my distance. I couldn’t hide the fear that had suddenly welled up in me. “Malik, I know you’re upset,” I said with a soothing tone, trying to keep him calm.

Grabbing the sides of his head with his hands, he raked his fingers across his closely-shaved hair. “I’m more than fucking upset! I’m pissed the fuck off! I’m sick of him. I’m sick of you. I’m sick of this place. I’m sick of everything!”

“Listen, try to calm down.” I looked nervously around my office. I’d never been in a situation like this before. I knew I had a panic button under my desk, but my desk was across the room. I would have to pass by Malik first to get to it.
Dammit, I should have sat closer to my desk.
I realized I shouldn’t have told Officer Harris, his escorting officer, to keep his distance because my kids didn’t open up to me when they felt like there were listening ears. I just didn’t realize Malik would flip out like he did. “It’s okay. We can work through this,” I said in soothing tone.

“It’s not fucking okay. Don’t even say that. You have no idea what I deal with every fucking day!” Malik clenched his fists by his side. The veins in his neck bulged, and his jaw muscles twitched when he clenched his teeth.

Panic overwhelmed me. By then I was looking for any way to calm him down. “You’re right,” I assured him. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

I knew if I screamed, the guards would bust down the door and snatch him up like a rag doll. But if I did that, I’d be right back at square one with him. He wouldn’t trust me and I will have lost him forever. No reform. No breakthrough. It just wasn’t worth it. I rose from my chair, slinking behind it and standing there as if its tiny frame would protect me. “Malik, look, we can handle this. Getting angry and out of control isn’t going to help. Please. I need you to calm down. I want to understand where you’re coming from.”

I could practically see the steam spewing from Malik’s ears. The corners of his mouth twitched with rage. His glowering eyes glared through me as if he didn’t even recognize me. He jumped up from his seat, towering over me with his finger in my face. “Why don’t you shut the fuck up, bitch! Just shut the fuck up before I punch my fist straight down your throat. Don’t tell me to fucking calm down!”

I knew it was too late—too late to scream, move, or hit that panic button.
Dammit!
Before I could react, Malik grabbed me and had me by my throat against the wall of my office.

“I don’t need your shit too…” he hissed in my ear. I gasped for breath, my fingers frantically clawing at his hand around my windpipe. I writhed and kicked, trying to break free.

Malik sucked in a deep breath through his nose, grinding his teeth. His demeanor reminded me of a bull ready to charge.
Shit!
He was strong—stronger than I ever imagined.

“Please,” I gurgled. “Please, Malik.” The searing pain of his calloused hands on the soft skin of my throat stung my skin. Where the hell was the guard? He must have stepped too far away from my office to hear the scuffle. Why? Why in the hell had I told him to do that? I should have known better than to put myself at risk!
Help!
My mind screamed, but the sound of my voice was cut off by the hands gripping my throat.
Oh god, please!

Malik held me up against the wall high enough that my toes scraped the ground, but not low enough to catch my footing. I scrambled, trying to alleviate the pressure on my throat. My oxygen was quickly running out. All I could think was…
Alexis.

Just then, my door burst open. It was Chris, and his eyes were primed to kill. Officer Harris was right behind him¸ but Chris got to me first.

He ripped Malik off of me and thrust him toward the floor. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, asshole?!” Chris screamed.

“Get off me, motherfucker!” Malik spit into his face.

Officer Harris called for backup and tried to pull the boys away from each other

Two more guards immediately rushed the scene, shackling them, and hauling them both away. I heard Chris yelling, “That shitbag was choking her! Make sure she’s okay!”

I gasped for air, crumbling onto my sofa. Tears fells from my eyes and dripped onto my cheeks. I’d always been too trusting… too naïve. I thought I could save these boys. I thought I could change them and turn them into good, upstanding citizens. Clearly, I had lofty aspirations, but I wasn’t about to give up. Not yet. My time at Fairbanks wasn’t done. I was holding my throat, already tender from the bruising when Officer Blevins flew into my office in a panic.

“Oh god, Salem. Are you okay? I just radioed someone from medical. They’re on the way.” Inspecting my throat, he asked, “Are you hurt?”

Through heaving breaths, I whispered, “Thanks… I’m okay.”

Officer Harris sank down on the sofa beside me.

Glaring at him, Officer Blevins boomed, “What happened, Harris?”

“I’m so sorry,” he said, looking at me regretfully. “I stepped away for just a second. I got distracted talking to Chris. I’m so sorry, Salem.”

I looked at Officer Blevins. “Barry,” I rasped, resting a hand on my heaving chest. My throat was scratchy as I tried to find my voice. “It’s not… his fault.” Glancing at Officer Harris, I said, “Don’t… beat yourself up.”

Officer Harris was emphatic. “I’ve never had a reason not to trust the kids in your office. There’s just something about you. You bring out the best in them.”

Officer Harris then directed his attention to Officer Blevins. “You know as well as I do that Malik is one of the toughest kids in the whole building, but the minute he steps foot into her office, he’s like putty in her hands. I don’t know what happened today. I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. I dropped the ball… so sorry.” He hung his head shamefully.

I took a deep, staggering breath.
I’m alive. I’m okay.
“I just struck a nerve with him, and he snapped.” My voice had finally returned with some semblance of normalcy. “I think I might have had a breakthrough with him, we’ll see… Give it a few days. I want to talk to him again. I know I can get through to this kid. Please, Barry, don’t write Malik up.”

“Salem, I can’t… he… he put his hands around your throat. I have to report this.” Barry stared at me, wide-eyed. “He could have killed you.”

“But he didn’t, Barry. I could see it. That wasn’t anger; that was pain. Just give him a day to think about it. I’ll come and talk to him tomorrow.”

“I can’t let this slide, Salem,” Barry said resolutely.

I knew what would happened if Malik got written up—segregation or an extended sentence. Not to mention that Officer Harris could lose his job. I pleaded mercilessly with Barry, who wouldn’t budge in his decision.

Finally surrendering, I said softly, “I understand. Please, just don’t give Malik a hard time. He’s had a tough life. Just give him a break… for me.”

Barry nodded, knowing his hands were tied. In this case, his own job was on the line.

Just then, a medical technician knocked on my door, offering to check me out. Barry and Officer Harris quietly excused themselves. Barry softly patted me on the shoulder then stepped out of my office.

As they were leaving, I called after Barry, my voice still hoarse from the trauma, “Oh, and tell Chris thank you.”
He saved me again.

“Yes ma’am,” Barry he called back.

After I was cleared by the technician and was left alone in my office, I sank down at my desk. The tears I cried weren’t for nearly losing my life at the hands of an angry teenager; they were for the hurt and heartache Malik had been through in his life that caused him to react the way he did. God knows what that kid had been through. His chart told me enough to bring me to tears—abuse, severe neglect, shuffled around from foster home to foster home where no one really wanted him because his temper made him difficult, at best. Then one night, he broke into a local jewelry store and stole as much gold, silver, and platinum as he could fit into his pockets. They had a hard time tracking him down for that crime until he tried to pawn the diamonds off at a store a mere five miles from his foster home. It was pitiful, really; the things these kids go through. Of course, his situation was no excuse for his behavior, but most of the time those two things went hand in hand. I just hoped that one day Malik would find the right family—one that would love him and teach him, through love, the appropriate way to behave. I could hardly blame a kid who reacted with anger when it was the only reaction he’d ever known.