Jailbird

  Jailbird

  by:

  Heather Huffman

  Smashwords Edition

  * * * * *

  Jailbird

  Copyright © 2010 Heather Bodendieck

  Cover Image Copyright © 2010 Heather Bodendieck

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  * * * * *

  To my husband, Adam, and our three amazing boys: Dylan, Blake & Christopher. You bring sunshine to my world and I couldn’t ask for better partners in adventure.

  I love you all so very much!

  * * * * *

  Part One: Rebirth

  Chapter One

  Of all the things I dreamed of being when I grew up, a convicted felon certainly wasn’t one of them. When my brother told me scary stories around the campfire, it never occurred to me that one day my biggest fears would involve being sent to the Hole—or worse—being found alone by the Chicas.

  But even those fears faded as I found myself out in the hot, sticky night sprinting across the prison lawn. Bullets sailed past me; one even nicked my ear. I could hear dogs barking behind me. The shouting seemed to never stop. Guards called to each other. Inmates cheered me on. I didn’t know where I was headed, really. The prison sat on a 225-acre compound and I had no idea what lay beyond its gates. This part of the state wasn’t as familiar to me as the bayou I called home.

  There were times when I thought that night would never end. I managed to throw the dogs off my trail by cutting north in a nearby stream. It didn’t slow them down long, but stuffing pieces of my clothes into nooks and crannies bought me more time. Only problem with that – it didn’t take too long before I was streaking through the night in my skivvies.

  I came skidding to a halt in front of the swamp. Like something from a bad dream, murky water loomed before me. Spanish moss hung from low-lying tree limbs over a black abyss that was most assuredly home to a gator or two. At the far end of the water was a fence—a fence that probably had a gap at the bottom.

  The baying of the dogs was growing louder. I didn’t have long before I’d be cornered again. But with a fire burning in my lungs, I had to rest. The pounding in my brain made it impossible to think. I stood stock still and waited for my breathing to return to normal while I considered my options.

  If I tried to make it to the fence, I would very likely die—painfully. Inside me stirred the knowledge that if I stayed I would die just as painfully, only that death would be in very slow increments. There was something to be said for swift release. And for hope.

  To my right, a deer appeared from the forest, dipping its graceful head to the water’s edge. A creature arose from the abyss and pulled the deer into the dark with a crack and a splash. The water seemed to boil with the churning as the gator rolled the hapless doe. A sane person might have taken that as a cue to step away from the water’s edge.

  I took it as my only chance and dove cleanly into the black.

  I was too scared to try to see my surroundings, and it would have been too dark anyway. With my eyes squeezed tight, I swam straight and true towards the fence—not wanting to think about what would happen if I got myself turned around. I just kept swimming, expecting to feel the searing pain of gator teeth on my leg at any instant.

  Instead, I felt links of metal at my fingertips after what seemed like a timeless eternity. I grabbed the fence and pulled my way to the bottom, my lungs screaming for air as I struggled to shimmy through the opening I had found.

  And then I was on the other side. With a strong kick, I bulleted to the surface, allowing only my mouth to break the water as I gulped in the air. I slowly lifted my head, the commotion on the other side reaching my ears even below water. The guards thought I was the hapless creature being thrashed in the water.

  I wasn’t about to stick around to see how many other gators this watering hole housed. The shore was close now. With another deep breath, I went back under and swam towards the stump of a nearby Cypress tree, pulling myself up quietly.

  I hugged the stump close, welcoming the itchy bark and waiting for the men on the other side to get bored watching my demise. One of my mama’s stories floated through my mind as I clung to that tree—Daniel in the lions’ den. If guardian angels were assigned to people like me, I was pretty sure mine had been on her toes tonight.

  I hugged the tree for so long I might have even dozed off. I tried to stay alert, knowing that as soon as the little party broke up, I would need to get as far away as I could. The stale water dripping from me seemed to be masking my scent from the dogs, but I wasn’t too keen on finding out how long my luck would hold in that regard.

  When I was finally alone, I left the safety of the tree and began to walk. My legs were wobbly now that the adrenaline was starting to ebb from my body. The reality of what I’d done was struggling to set in; I did my best to thrust it away.

  Despite the muggy night, I felt chilled to the bone. I pushed forward until my legs could move no more. Eventually I found a hunter’s tree stand that offered some protection for me to rest, and I fell asleep as the first rays of dawn crept across the sky.

  I woke up again when the sun was high, covered in sweat with an aching throat. I stiffly sat up, leaning against the wooden wall to ponder my next move. The sunbeams slicing through the tree canopy reflected off a piece of metal in the far corner of the stand. It was a small pocketknife, not unlike the one my brother had cherished as a child. It felt a whole lot like stealing, but I grabbed the prize anyway. I was sure this little knife would come in handy.

  A quick peek over the wall assured me I was still alone in the forest. Sitting in a tree stand wasn’t going to accomplish much, so I reluctantly climbed down and began looking for tree moss. Besides my black hair and eyes, my Coushatta father had given me the ability to track. I might not know where I was exactly but figured if I headed north it would eventually lead me out of Louisiana and away from the Dixon Correctional Institute.

  Just when I thought I would surely die without a drink, I heard water in the distance. I followed my ears and was rewarded with a cool stream where I drank my fill and did my best to wash myself off. What I would have given for a shower and some clean clothes at that moment. For that matter, food would have been pretty welcome, too.

  I came across a homestead and stole a t-shirt and a pair of sweat shorts off the line. I felt bad, but desperate is as desperate does. The clothes hung off of my slight frame, but at least I was no longer wandering around in my bra and panties.

  By the time I crossed the Arkansas state line, I’d lost count of the sunsets and still had managed to
avoid contact with another human being. My pocket knife had come in pretty handy. I’d used it to cut my hair, dig up roots for dinner, and skin a fish I’d been lucky enough to catch.

  The realization was quickly settling in that unless I wanted to spend the rest of my life wandering the woods alone, I would eventually have to rejoin society. Given my current appearance, I wasn’t real sure how to do that without raising suspicion. For about two seconds, I toyed with the idea of calling my brother. I tossed the thought aside, knowing I’d put him at risk if I did and got caught.

  I debated my choices for days, maybe it was weeks. My mind raced round and round. I didn’t know if anyone was looking for me or if my story had made the news. I knew I’d die before I let anyone take me back to that place. I was afraid to hope for better. So I just kept walking.

  And then the solution presented itself when I stumbled across a field full of day laborers. I stood at the edge of the woods, watching them for a bit.

  A Hispanic woman working the patch of ground nearest to me locked eyes with mine. She gave a small, knowing smile and a barely perceptible nod to join her. I didn’t question her motives; this was my best chance.

  The day was hot and long; the work was hard. Neither of us spoke, but it felt good to be in the presence of another human again. My stomach clenched in a knot when the foreman came to check on our progress, but he didn’t look past my dark hair and eyes to see I wasn’t part of the small Hispanic group who had worked me into their mix.

  I didn’t know where I’d go next, but at least I had a couple of dollars in my pocket now. It was a start. When the woman who’d introduced herself as Anjelita invited me home, I followed. They gave me a hot meal and a couch to sleep on. More importantly, Anjelita and her family welcomed me into their fold without question. I found myself no longer alone.

  Chapter Two

  I tagged along with them for the rest of the week. While my mind was constantly working, trying to figure out what I should do next, I was outwardly just along for the ride. Saturday came and the family loaded up a beaten-down old truck with vegetables and headed towards the town square.

  It felt like stepping back in time to another era. I wouldn’t have been at all surprised to see a Ford Fairlane cruising down the street. The Torres family pulled their old Chevy onto the grass at the corner of the town square and we all piled out, working in perfect concert to set up a vegetable stand out of the back of the truck. I didn’t need direction; I’d spent enough time as a little girl selling jewelry alongside my own family.

  After everything was set up, Anjelita shooed me away, saying I should use the time to do a little bit of shopping. I would have argued, but I desperately needed a change of clothes. I’m sure Anjelita would have given me the clothes off her own back, but our frames were considerably different. If I had inherited my father’s complexion, my French-Creole mother had given me the gift of fine bones and a slight build.

  There was only one clothing store on the little square and it was mostly filled with items on consignment. Thankfully, there had to be at least one other slight person in this town because I found a stash of clothes towards the back of the store that seemed to be made for me.

  I bought a pair of shorts, a t-shirt and a cotton dress. Then I really splurged and bought a couple of pairs of underwear and some flip-flops. That pretty much wiped me out of cash. With a little luck, I’d be able to go fishing later to provide food for the family who’d provided so generously for me.

  Before I rejoined my little group, I took a minute to change clothes in the store’s employee restroom. I almost felt human as I eyed my reflection in the dirty little mirror. My face was a little gaunt, but then it had been for years now. All in all, I looked as good as I did on any other day. I actually kind of liked the short, shaggy haircut I’d given myself while wandering in the woods.

  A little girl had joined Anjelita’s family and was playing with their seven-year-old daughter. I smiled at the little girl and returned her wave. She was a cute little thing with big blonde curls and even bigger blue eyes. I gave Anjelita a grateful smile when she complimented my new attire, then settled on the tailgate of the truck and allowed my gaze to wander around the square.

  For someone who hasn’t noticed a man in more than ten years, to have your heart trip a funny little beat at the sight of one is a monumental event.

  “Who is that?” I tried to be nonchalant as I nodded in the direction of an average-looking man who was crossing the street in our direction. He seemed completely at ease as he ambled down the street, whistling off-key and nodding politely to passersby.

  “Who? Charlie?”Anjelita followed the direction of my gaze. “He’s the town lawyer. In a town this size, he doesn’t get to do much besides fix tickets and write contracts. And divorces. There’s always divorces.”

  “Daddy!” The little blonde lit up at Charlie’s approach, flying into his arms once he’d crossed the street. “Daddy, the new Torres lady was asking about you. Come meet her. She’s super pretty.”

  “She is very pretty Cara, but it’s not polite to talk about people,” Charlie glanced up at me and seemed to pause if for even a moment. I couldn’t be sure; I was too busy wishing the earth would swallow me up.

  “Come on, Mr. Charlie, don’t be so shy. Come meet Neena,” Isabel joined her friend Cara to tug on his hand.

  Anjelita closed her eyes and shook her head, apparently deciding a reproach right now would only make the matter worse. Her husband Manuel didn’t bother hiding his chuckle.

  “Hello,” the man extended his hand with a friendly smile. “I’m Charlie Russell. Sorry about the girls here.”

  “Oh, don’t apologize. I didn’t mean to cause such a commotion,” I wanted to avoid his eyes, but something about them drew me in. When they caught me, I lost the presence of mind to reclaim my hand.

  “Did I hear the girls say your name is Neena?” Kindness rolled off of him. He seemed to be doing his best to help me along despite his own embarrassment.

  “Yes,” I nodded a little dumbly. “Apparently Neena Torres.”

  “Well, Neena Torres,” he seemed to be sizing me up in his brief pause. “Welcome to Hampton. We’re happy to meet you.”

  “Are you coming for dinner tonight?” Anjelita saved me from having to form a coherent response.

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” Charlie promised, his eyes finally breaking contact with mine. My hand felt strangely bereft at the absence of his touch. “Come on Cara; let’s not block the paying customers any longer.”

  I watched him hold his hand out to the little girl; a look of adoration was evident on both of their faces. He cast another glance at me, offering a small wave and a smile. I waved back and then hurried to find something to do besides stare after him.

  “I’ll never understand some women,” Anjelita came up beside me, shaking her head and watching the pair leave.

  I looked at her, the question I didn’t dare speak plain as day in my eyes.

  “His wife took off on them when Cara was about a year old. Went to Nashville to be a singer. Wound up a waitress addicted to meth. Well, that’s what Sheriff Taylor’s daughter said anyways….”

  “That’s awful,” my heart broke for the little girl. I couldn’t imagine a mother leaving her baby like that. All of the smiles and kisses and lullabies the poor thing had missed.

  “The two of them do okay,” Anjelita smiled fondly. “I’ve never seen a pair crazier about each other.”

  It made me think of my own daddy and a sad smile tugged at my mouth. I was glad my parents weren’t around anymore to see what a mess I’d made of things. When they’d died, I was still well on my way to a promising career as a large animal vet. I didn’t want to think about whether or not they could see me now.

  “Little girls do love their daddies,” I mused, grabbing another crate of tomatoes to replace the ones already sold. I looked for something else to keep my hands busy, but it was obvious this family was used to their routine and didn�
��t really need me here.

  “You know, you can go grab a soda and a bite to eat if you’d like,” Manny noticed my agitation at being out of work.

  “Actually, I think I’ll go see if Mamá Torres needs anything,” I shook my head, unwilling to admit I was flat broke again.

  “That’s a long walk,” Manuel seemed skeptical.

  “I’m used to long walks. I don’t mind,” I grinned to myself. That was an understatement.

  After so many years of being told where to be and when, it was odd and exhilarating to be able to wander down a dusty road daydreaming about a man with hazel eyes and a kind smile. There was a solid, gentle way about Charlie Russell that told me he would never hurt another person. Maybe that’s why I was so drawn to him.

  I drew in a deep breath and stopped to admire a marshmallow cloud that drifted across a bright blue sky. One thing I knew for sure—I needed to spend my time thinking about my next step, not some man I could never have.

  With that resolved, I began humming an old hymn my mama used to sing as I started walking again. My bag swung merrily at my side and my thoughts drifted to Mary O’Donnell, my old cell mate. Her luck was as dumb as mine, but she was a good person. We’d stuck together and because of that, managed to stay pretty safe. I hoped my escape hadn’t caused any problems for her.

  I could hear the distant rumble of a car coming my way and instinctively stepped into the grass to wait for it to pass. Instead of roaring by, it slowed to a stop beside me. Panic rose in my throat until I realized it was Charlie looking at me with an expectant grin.

  “Want a ride?” He leaned over and opened the door.

  “I don’t want to trouble you,” I shook my head and stepped back. No matter how gentle Charlie seemed, it didn’t stop a knot of fear from twisting in my stomach.