Stealing Silence(3)
Avalon trudged toward the door and paused while Mitch punched in the security code and pulled open the door. A concrete block walled corridor greeted her, the paint faded and scraped as though too many prisoners had been dragged up and down the passage. Mitch gave her a push in the back and she stepped into the hallway with a shiver of apprehension. Her eyes darted nervously around the sterile space, even as she was herded down its length. At the end a second locked door required a second code. As it swung shut behind her with an echoing click, she squeezed her eyes shut.
“Avalon.” When she didn’t respond he lifted her chin again. “How old are you? Do you know?”
Avalon opened her eyes and glared at him. “Of course I know. What do you take me for?”
He studied her outraged face and said “OK then, what is your date of birth?” She immediately rattled off a date that made his eyes widen. “You are sixteen?” he said, searching for the lie in her words.
“Just because I am small doesn’t mean I am a child.” She glared at him, daring him to say the obvious, well you sure look like a child and then there is your behaviour. But the words didn’t come. Instead, he gestured toward a wooden door on the right side. A brass plate announced the room as “Sentencing and Parole Review” in raised lettering. She entered a room of rich polished wood paneling and benches set like pews in a church that ended before a raised platform on which sat box, presumably for the judge. No one was in the room.
“Have a seat in the front row,” Mitch commanded and then rang a bell sitting on the raised desk, before seating himself beside her. Avalon’s feet did not reach the floor. She pulled them up and sat cross-legged on the bench, watching him out of the corner of her eye. She had pushed back the filthy hood and her fringe of black hair swung into her eyes. It was cut short at the back, a ragged, uneven chopping as though she cut it herself without the aid of a mirror.
“Where do you live, Avalon?” Silence greeted his words. “Where are your parents?” She shrugged, years of living on the street keeping her lips sealed. “Are you a member of the Firebrand gang?” She shook her head no, but still did not offer any information. He switched to a different line of questioning.
“Why did you break into the greenhouse?” She gave him a disgusted look. “I know you are hungry, but you could have snatched the first thing that came to hand and gotten away clean before the guard made it around the green house, but you stayed and filled a sack full of food. This looks really bad, Avalon. You know the law. You know that the black market rings are being hunted down and eliminated. The government has make it their number one priority, to eliminate the underground food marketing. All food is to be distributed by the government in equal portions as per the registry.
She gave him another disgusted look at the obtuseness of his comment. “To register for the food stamps, you have to have an address. It is a piece of information I prefer not to give.”
“Because you prefer to steal? Why? So you can sell it to the underground?” He shook his head. “The gangs that run the black market are more of a threat to you than the police are, Avalon.” He studied her mutinous face then sighed and turned away as a side door opened and an elderly woman entered. She mounted the stairs to the huge oaken judge’s pedestal but instead took a seat at the scribe’s desk to its right. A green leather bound ledger sat on the table and she flipped it open then looked at them. “Please approach the lower court”
Avalon slid off the bench and stuck her fingers in her pockets, only to realize that they were full of sticky berries. She resisted the urge to pull them out and lick the mash of off her fingers. Instead she shoved them deeper, searching in vain for a few that were not crushed.
“Your Honour, I wish to present Avalon - “ He paused waiting for Avalon to fill in her last name but she remained silent. “ - Avalon, a young woman who was caught breaking into the greenhouse on Federation Way. She is to be charged with break and enter, and theft over five thousand.”
“Five thousand!” gasped Avalon. “Those few apples are not worth five thousand dollars! Are you insane?”
The judge rapped the gavel on the wooden plate, silencing her. “That is enough, young woman. You will remain silent until asked to speak. Continue, Captain Anderson.”
“The food was recovered and has been returned to the greenhouse, but the fact that the thief was caught with the goods does not change the facts of the crime committed.”
“The facts have been presented and the charges recorded. Do you have a witness?”
“Yes, myself, and the guard at the facility, and the new federal cameras recorded the entire event.” Avalon winced at this pronouncement.
The judge scribbled notes for a few more moments.
“Now you may speak, what do you have to say for yourself, to these charges, young lady?”
Avalon shifted her feet guiltily and looked up at the judge, pleading in her amber flecked eyes. “I am sorry, I will not do it again. I was just terribly hungry. Can I go now?”
The judge stared at her then shook her head. “I think not. We will reconvene in the morning. You will be our guest this evening and forever as long as we wish to keep you, young Avalon, until you confess the truth behind your actions.”
“No! I must go, I cannot stay here!” Desperation pitched her voice higher than she intended and her plea came out as a squeak. Both the judge and Mitch stared at her. “Please!”