“Really?”
“Just like.”
Guards were stationed at all four corners of the room, and one roamed the center. Other prisoners sat with their families, their wives. I saw a tall, thin Latino kid not much older than me with tattoos up to his neck pat the hand of a woman who had to be his mother. She sat sobbing, a rosary intertwined in her fingers. I heard a child shout “Daddy!” and run up to a man as large as a billboard, with locs that almost swept the floor. A skinny, pockmarked white man hugged his identical twin tight until the roaming guard, baton in hand, separated the brothers.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I did not want to be there. I wanted to go home. “What do you want, Derek? My told me you wanted to speak to me.”
“You still draw?”
My stomach was beginning to hurt. Talking to Derek had always disgusted me. Time had not altered that. “Yes,” I said. “I still draw.” It was like asking if I still breathed.
“That’s good.” Derek nodded. He bent his head to light his cigarette, cupped his cuffed hands around his lighter, and, after a moment, sent the first exhalation of smoke far above his head. “Important to have a passion.”
“I’m leaving,” I said. I grabbed my backpack.
“No, Joan. Stay. Please.”
“For what? For you? You ain’t shit. Such a waste of my time.” I threw my bag’s strap over my shoulder, instinctively feeling in my pocket for my keys, before remembering I had given them to Mya. “Fuck this. Fuck you, Derek,” I said.
As I stood to leave, I felt a dark presence over the room. Another inmate had entered. He was massive. If the other men were barns, he was a building. Looked like he could have easily eaten the guard that led him through the room. I was tall both for my age and for a woman, but this man made most other human beings seem Lilliputian. His skin was the color of dark ash, and he pulled at his short beard as he strutted among the tables. He seemed to observe the other inmates and their families with a sort of derisive amusement, sneering at them as he walked. His gait suggested a stroll through a park rather than a walk through a roomful of prisoners. Like he hadn’t a care in the world. Like this was his natural habitat.
I’d come close to crossing his path if I left now. As I hesitated, he scanned the room, and his eyes rested on me. He smiled, and a chill went down my spine. Instead of teeth, a gold front grill flashed.
I sank slow back to my seat.
Derek had his back to the huge man, hadn’t seen him. His eyes widened a bit, surprised I had taken my seat again.
“Listen—” he began, but I shushed him.
“He’s coming over here,” I whispered, frantic.
Derek frowned. “Who?” he asked. He glanced over his shoulder to see where I was looking. He froze.
The massive man was being steered toward our table. When he got within a few feet of us, he slowed his walk even further. His smirk deepened into true malevolence.
I saw light flickering in the coal black of his eyes as he scanned me, my body. I clutched my backpack tighter to my body to block it from his gaze. But his grin only grew when he saw me retract.
Derek had turned rigid.
The man was upon us now. He stopped, hovering over Derek. The guard frowned, tugged at his chains.
Derek shifted so that his head angled away from the man. But I could tell that this slight retreat would do no good. This man wanted his presence to be known, and known it would be.
I knew instantly, glancing from Derek’s downcast eyes back to the man’s shining black ones, that they knew each other.
The man peeled his gaze from mine, focused on Derek.
Derek’s body was braced as if for some terrible impact.