Forgive Me(63)
“What’s your name, baby?”
Without hesitation, Angie said, “Kathleen.” She backed away. Only one person could ever comfort her after a nightmare. It was no great surprise when she opened her mouth and spoke her mother’s name.
CHAPTER 32
Exhibit D: Excerpts from the journal of Nadine Jessup, pages 51-57
Every night I went to bed telling myself tomorrow would be the day I’d make the call. Tomorrow would be my last day here. Wherever this is . . . somewhere in Baltimore, I’m told. Tomorrow I’ll say good-bye to Tasha and the other girls forever and then I’d say good-bye to this chapter of my life. Every day I promised myself I would do it, but I never did. Instead, I watched the phone’s battery level drop like it was my own life slipping away, down from a hundred percent to fifty. Half life. Half left. But the half remaining meant I could go another day without having to make that call. It meant I could have another day without being terrified of what Ricardo would do to me if he found out I was trying to escape, or what he would do to my mom and dad if I betrayed him. The remaining bit of battery meant I could put off having those fears become a reality for at least one more day.
I didn’t know what was going to happen when the battery got down to ten percent . . . or five. Would it give me strength I didn’t have? Would I just dial the number on the card Mystery Man gave Tasha? Would I? Could I? There was a Nadine who I believed in, a girl who I thought had the courage to do it. But it felt like that girl was lost somewhere in a maze of cheap rooms down in a basement with mold clinging to the ceiling. That Nadine was lost and I was calling her name but hearing the echo not of my voice, but the voice of Jessica Barlow, the girl I’d become, whoever she is.
It was a stupid thing waiting to make that call. Stupid GIRL! STUPID NADINE OR JESSICA OR WHOEVER THE HELL YOU ARE! Doesn’t matter now what percent of the phone’s battery is left because the phone is gone. I went to check the battery life and I couldn’t find the phone in my pillow. It’s gone and if Ricardo, Casper, or Buggy found it that means I’m probably next.
I’m writing to you Tasha. Dear Tasha. I’m writing to apologize. I’m writing to you to tell you that I love you. To say I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Sorry x10. Sorry a Million Xs. Here’s the truth, here’s what happened. I remember now. I took the phone out from its hiding spot because I was going to make the call, I really was, but I wanted to get high first, and I did, but then I forgot about the phone. I just left it out on the kitchen counter and went to work downstairs. STUPID THING TO DO. STUPID!! I crashed after and when I came back up I didn’t even check to see if I put the phone back where I hide it. I’ll never forget the look in your eyes when Ricardo woke us that night. I’m sure I looked a million times more scared than you. But when Ricardo showed us the phone, why did you tell him it was yours? Why??? I don’t know what to say except that I’m sorry. I feel super sick about it. I really do. I should have owned up to it and I didn’t. You gave it to me. It was my phone, but I said nothing. And now I have to go downstairs because there’s a meeting about the phone and YOU! All the girls are going to be there. I haven’t seen you since Ricardo dragged you away by your hair. When I get downstairs, I’m going to tell them the truth. I’m going to tell them the phone is mine. I can’t let them hurt you for something I did.
Tasha please forgive me. Please, please, please, forgive me! I froze when I saw you with your wrists tied. When they opened the door to the hole, I said nothing. When they untied your wrists I thought they were going to let you go. I was wrong. We locked eyes and I thought I understood what was going through your mind, what you wanted me to do, which was nothing. You could have stopped it. You could have told them the phone was mine. But you didn’t. You were doing this for me because you knew I couldn’t take the hole. You knew I couldn’t take the cigarette burns Ricardo put on your arms and legs. Somehow you knew I wasn’t strong enough. I almost spoke up when the door to the hole clanged shut. I swear it’s true. I almost said it was MY PHONE! MINE! But then I remembered when they put me in the hole. I didn’t know I was claustrophobic until I went down there. The thought of going back into the darkness again, into that crawl space, it made me shrivel up inside.
I knew for sure I couldn’t take what they did to you. I couldn’t handle it. So I just watched along with the other girls while Casper and Buggy held you down and Ricardo put his cigarette to your skin. I watched and said nothing because I’m a coward. I make myself sick!! I should just curl up into a ball and die. That’s what I should do. I should take a big handful of your blue specials and swallow them all and just die because I’m worthless and pathetic. That’s the truth. You screamed while I stayed silent. What’s fair about that?
Tasha, sweet Tasha. Here’s what happened after you went into the hole. Ricardo brought all the girls into to the kitchen for a “little talk.” A little talk, yeah right! He was trying to scare us and he did a fine job of it, too. He told us phones were not allowed but everyone already knew the rule. He said phones were contraband. I hadn’t heard that word before, but I figured out pretty quickly what it meant. It was something prisoners would try to get. Good word choice, because I guess that’s what we are. Prisoners. He said if we have phones, we have to give them to him now. He said there would be no penalty if we handed them over. That’s what he calls putting you in the hole and burning you with cigarettes. He calls it a penalty. No wonder I didn’t run, or call that Angie lady. If I got caught doing any those things it would have been a heck of a lot worse than a “penalty,” I think.