“Oh . . . lovely,” I say, pressing my body closer to JP. “One of the most haunted, can’t hear that enough.”
“If you want to take a closer look at the prison cells, please feel free,” Kathy says, gesturing to the cold steel bars lined up against the wall as she gives us some space.
“Can we get in one?”
“Of course,” Kathy says.
“Uh . . . are you insane? I am not getting in one of those cells.”
“Why not?” JP asks. “Once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
“Never been in a prison cell, never plan on being in one.”
JP chuckles and pulls me closer to the cells. I let go of his arm as he steps inside one. “Shit, these are small. You’d have to get creative with how to work with this space.” He grips the cell bars and asks, “How do I look?”
“Deranged.”
A loud creaking sound echoes through the dank halls, and then in the blink of an eye, JP’s cell door slides shut, causing me to gasp and JP to let out the girliest scream I’ve ever heard.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”
From down the hall, Kathy laughs, making us both turn toward her. She presses a button and the cell opens again.
“Jesus . . . fuck,” JP says as he steps out of the cell and glares at Kathy. “I did not pay for the scare factor.”
“It’s free of charge.” She smiles.
“Fuck.” He walks up to me and whispers, “My scrotum has shriveled up into my stomach. Won’t have balls for days after that.”
I cover my mouth and chuckle. “Still loving the idea of being here at night?”
“Slightly rethinking. Didn’t know Kathy from Nightmare Alley was going to be our tour guide.”
“I’m here all night,” Kathy calls out, still smiling.
“Jesus Christ, she’s in the right line of work.” He lets out a deep breath and then says, “I was about to say, that wouldn’t be the first time I was behind bars.”
“Umm . . . what’s that now?”
He lends out his arm to me and I hang on to it as we walk toward Satan’s mistress. “I was in college. Shortly after my dad passed away. Public intoxication. Some bullshit thing like that. I think I peed on some old lady’s tree. She called the cops and I was arrested. Huxley, of course, came flying in like the knight in shining armor that he is and had everything removed from my record, and then threatened to remove me from school if I ever did something like that again.”
“Sounds . . . sad. Seems like you needed someone to care for you. You were going through a rough time.”
“Yeah, alcohol cared for me. Alcohol has always been there for me.”
“You realize how unhealthy that is?”
“Yup, but never said I was completely healthy. Working on it, though. One day at a time.”
“Shall we see the shower room?” Kathy asks when we reach her.
“Absolutely,” JP says, leading the way.
We spend the next hour listening to Kathy tell us about the many different inmates who attempted to escape, how they escaped, and the outcome. Despite it being dark, creepy, and not something I’d probably ever choose to do on my own, I actually enjoyed myself immensely. The stories were entertaining, the history unlike anything I’ve ever heard, and of course, listening to JP ask intense questions was fun, too.
Now that we’re on the ferry ride back, sitting outside under the stars, I have a million questions running through my head.
“If you were ever in prison like those guys, would you try to escape? Or would you just suffer in silence, doing what needed to be done in order to leave one day?”
“Depends on the length of my sentence,” he says, draping his arm across the bench behind me. “If it was a long sentencing, hell yeah, I’d try to escape. I’d dig a hole like the Anglin brothers, papier maché some heads, and work until morning. But if it was like ten years . . . eh, I’d wait it out.”
“I would not survive in prison,” I say. “I don’t have it in me to be rough and tough.”
“Because you’re innocent,” JP says. “You’re too sweet for prison. Me, I could go either way. If I had to hold my own, I would.”
“I take it that means you’ve been in your fair share of fistfights?”
He chuckles. “Not sure I’ve heard many people call them fistfights—just a fight—and yeah, I’ve been in quite a few. Like I said, never really felt like I had a place in this world, so I fought my way, trying to find something that mattered to me.”