by Arnie
He moved surefootedly into the darkness and sank down in one corner of the small cell. Now that no one could see him, he allowed a smile to cross his face. Ironically enough, today was his birthday. A day you'd normally spend with loved ones or friends as they wished you a happy birthday and gave you presents. Instead, he'd promised himself a present - a day of peace in solitary. Lucky him, he'd got two! It had cost him a shiv, but he had others so that didn't bother him. Fortunately, his reputation meant that he didn't have to do anything with his knife, just let a warder see that he had it.
Now, there was no need to be on his guard, except when the prison warders brought food. No need to keep his back to the wall, in case a foolish prisoner decided to try and take a piece of the pretty boy Indian. A prisoner had tried, once. His long recuperation in the prison hospital and Chief's long incarceration in solitary, his first stay in there, had ensured that only the stupid, or the mad, would try again.
Regardless, Chief kept his back to the wall and stared down any possible threat with his dark eyes. There was something in the still gaze that ensured that most prisoners gave him a wide berth. While other prisoners made friends, alliances even, in this place, Chief stood alone. And he preferred it that way.
He promised himself that he'd never be stupid enough to rely upon the protection of others. That way led to betrayal, he'd learned that lesson early enough.
Sighing, he rested his head against the cold wall behind him. The only drawback to solitary was how the memories crowded in on him. He gave another smile, a half smile this time, and it faded as the memories grew stronger.
For a moment he could have sworn he could smell his mother's perfume. He smiled and sighed as the memory of his last happy birthday, that last birthday with his parents, replayed itself in his mind. It was as fresh a memory as it had ever been. Chief could swear that he could almost smell the candles burning on his cake.
"Blow them out, Rainey!" his mother urged him. "Blow them out!"
"But don't forget to make a wish first!" his father laughed, his hazel eyes smiling down at his dark son.
The smile on Chief's face grew wider even as the memory grew more painful. Regret, loss, pain and grief warred with the memory and drove it back, even as another memory took its place. The smile left Chief's face as the blackness of the cell seemed to take on the hue of a policeman's uniform. Even in his grief he felt the kindness of the policeman, the only policeman he'd ever had kindness from, as the fatherly cop knelt to tell the little boy of the car accident.
In the darkness, Chief's face hardened. That time was gone. That little boy had disappeared into an angry young man who belonged to no one and nowhere, and who had learned to keep his anger hidden behind a coldness that matched the cell walls that surrounded him.
He straightened in his corner. It was only a memory. And memories could only hurt you if you allowed them to.
A clang at the door startled him. If it was dinner time more time had passed than he'd thought. Hastily, he wiped his sleeve across his eyes. He'd never give the guards the satisfaction of believing that solitary could break him.
"On your feet, Chief."
The daylight streaming in through the open door hurt his eyes, and he blinked at the guard in the doorway before getting warily to his feet. Normally they'd shove a tray of food in and slam the door behind it, leaving him to find the food in the dark. "What's goin' on?" he asked, aware that asking the wrong warder at the wrong time could lead to a beating.
"Someone wants to see you. Get a move on."
The prison warder moved back to let Chief out and Chief saw that he'd brought along another guard in case the prisoner got violent.
Cautiously, the Indian moved forward out of the cell. The door clanged shut behind him and he followed the guard quietly down to the Head Warden's office. As they neared the door he could hear raised voices. Whatever was going on, the Head Warden wasn't pleased with it.
The guard knocked on the door, ending his boss' tirade.
"Come in!" He might have stopped shouting but the Head Warden still sounded angry.
Once inside the office, Chief was surprised to find that the 'someone' waiting to see him was a soldier, and an officer at that.
"I'd prefer to speak to Rainey alone, if you don't mind." The officer spoke quietly but with a tone of authority in his voice.
"Rainey! Who's...?" The prison guard paused as the dots connected themselves. "Oh him. We all call him 'Chief'."
"And you're crazy to see him alone!" the Head Warden burst out. "He's a killer!"
"Nevertheless," the officer's tone was resolute, "I'd prefer to speak to him alone. Thank you."
The note of dimissal was evident, and, to Chief's surprise, the others left.
The Indian turned from the closed door and met the officer's eyes with a stony glare. To his surprise, the hazel eyes didn't drop but held his gaze. There was no threat in the steady look, just an assessment, although for what, Chief had no idea.
"So, Rainey...or do you prefer Chief?" The officer sat on the edge of the desk and waved Chief to the chair in front of him.
He shrugged. "Doesn't matter."
"Okay...Chief. Have you ever thought of working for the Government?"
Chief's eyes widened in surprise. "The Government?" he echoed.
The man nodded. "My name's Garrison. Lieutenant Garrison. And if you're interested, this could get you out of here. Unless you prefer solitary?"
The Indian weighed up the man's words carefully, then nodded slowly. Whatever this Garrison was selling, he was interested...for now, anyway.
~'~
Half an hour later Chief was back in solitary, the same cold wall behind him, and the same cold floor below him. He sighed and settled back into the corner. In two days' time he'd be in a plane, heading for England. He took a deep breath and rested his head against the stone wall as he considered the offer he'd just accepted.
Who knew where it would lead? But he promised himself one thing, whatever happened, this would be the last birthday he'd spend in jail.
THE END
