Stealing Silence(4)
“I am sorry, Avalon.” The judge reached under the bench and run a bell and the side door opened. Court security came through, dressed in the colours of federal security. “The crime you committed is not against Melona, it is federal jurisdiction. Even if I wished to release you with a warning I cannot. We must await review of your case by a representative of the government before a decision on your punishment can be made. Bailiff, take the prisoner to the women’s cell block and she that she is showered and given a change of clothing.”
“No!” Avalon gasped “Please, let me go! I must go!”
The bailiff took her by the arm and dragged her out the side door. Avalon screamed and began to kick the officer until he wrestled her to the ground, handcuffed her once again and dragged her up by her injured arm once again. “And see that she gets medical attention!” called the judge as a screaming Avalon was dragged from the room. Silence abruptly descended as the door closed behind her.
“There is something odd going on with that young woman,” the judge said, squinting at the door.
“There is much more than meets the eye, for sure.” Mitch stood and stretched, wincing at the old back injury that twinged. “I will see what I can find out.”
“Please do. And Mitch, I do not need to tell you that this is unwanted attention on Melona. You need to solve this problem now, before it escalates.”
He nodded in silent agreement and followed the bailiff’s path out of the chambers.
The judge watched him go with a pensive frown on her face.
Chapter 3
Time to Think
AVALON WAS DRAGGED down the hall by the bailiff. She never stopped fighting the entire way to the women’s holding cells. What she expected to do if she got free of him, she didn’t even stop to consider, for her panic was complete. She had sworn to herself that never again would she be confined to a box, to walls with no escape. There was no greater fear, than walls without an exit, to be confined to a small space without windows and sky.
They passed from one windowless corridor to a secondary, then on into a branch of the jail specifically for women. The inhabitants of the various cells peered out at her from behind clear doors as she was dragged by. The bailiff shoved her in a cell at the end of hallway and she tumbled to the floor. He closed the door behind him before she could regain her feet. It locked shut with a click, and Avalon threw herself at the door, only to be thrown back by a force field that had sprung into existence. She sat down hard and stared at the door, crying in earnest now. Hands still locked behind her back, she curled into a ball on the floor and cried until exhaustion took her and she slept.
***
AVALON WOKE TO THE door opening and attempted to sit up only to be brought up short by the handcuffs that still bound her wrists behind her back. She groaned and gave up on the idea, watching with bleary eyes as a tall woman in uniform closed the door behind her then squatted down beside her. “I will remove those cuffs now, but do not do anything foolish. There is no getting out of the cell and I’d prefer to not have to taser you. It is a most unpleasant experience. The woman stared at her until Avalon agreed with a nod of her head, then unlocked the cuffs and stepped back, hand on her taser, ready to draw it. Avalon sat up and worked her shoulders to ease the stiffness. “May I get up off the floor?” she asked the woman, who nodded. Avalon stood up and limped over to the bed and sat back down.
“A woman will arrive shortly with a change of clothing to take you to the showers. I will be accompanying you there. Same rules apply. Act like a madman and I will call the male guards in to assist. You will not like the way they wash you, “ she said, with a hard smile. Avalon nodded and sat on her hands, to stop their shaking and to show she was not a threat. The moments ticked by in silence and then the door opened again and a woman entered, carrying linens and some heavily bleached clothing, as drab as the walls of her cell. They smelled clean and sterile, which Avalon was beginning to realize, she did not.
“Here we are, your linens and clothing. Now, my dear, let me look at that cut.” The woman put down her bundle beside Avalon and took her chin in one hand. She tilted her face to examine the cut on her cheek and tsked. “It’s long but not deep. No stitches needed. Now, off with your sweater. Avalon backed away from her hand.
“Come now dear, that sweater saw the end of its useful life about ten years ago. It’s time to be rid of it.”
“No!” shouted Avalon and the female guard tensed and partially drew her taser. Avalon fought to control her panic and swallowed heavily. “Please, it was my father’s. I...I want to keep it. Please,” she begged, her eyes filling with tears that she blinked away.
The orderly looked to the guard, who nodded. “Alright then, but we are going to wash it. We do not allow filthy clothing in the cells. It’s unsanitary.”
Avalon looked from one to the other, then nodded, and pulled the sweater over her head, dropping it beside her onto the lumpy mattress. Under the sweater she wore a black tank top which did nothing to hide the lurid bruises on her arms. The orderly took her hands and inspected the bruises. “You had an active night, tonight.” She touched the swelling shoulder and Avalon jerked away from the pain of her probing touch.
“Come, we will get you showered and then I have some cream that will help with the pain. Finish stripping off your clothes and put this robe on.” Avalon did as instructed and pulled on the robe, and slipped her feet into some disposable slippers - I am not throwing those away! - then followed the orderly out into the hallway, her change of clothes clutched to her chest. Her guard followed after her, hand hovering over the taser and ready to use it. Avalon ignored her and followed the orderly to the showers. It was a large open room with four shower heads and an open drain in the floor. Spigots by the handles for the taps dispensed both soap and shampoo. She hung her robe on a hook by the door and walked over to the shower head that was the furthest away from the door and turned on the water. It was luke warm but with the heat of the day still lingering, it felt as refreshing as a plunge into an icy lake. She gasped, and reveled in the luxury of running water with soap and shampoo, and only turned off the water when commanded to do so. No towel was provided so she used her robe to towel off then put on the jail clothing provided, a soft cotton t-shirt and a pair of flannel trousers, both in a dull grey. She picked up her robe and put the slippers back on her feet then followed them back to her cell, meek as a mouse when the cat is watching. As she entered her cell, the smell of food nearly made her faint. Her eyes darted to the tray and after looking to her guard for permission, she fell on the tray. Soup in a plastic bowl and a crusty roll, butter and sliced meat, an apple like those she had tried to steal and a glass of milk filled the tray. It was more food than she had seen in a week and with a gasp, she snatched up the soup and drank it down so fast her stomach complained loudly. “Slow down there, you will throw it up if you eat that quickly. Come now, slowly,” the orderly said, pushing her down to sit on the bed and placing the tray beside her. “No one is going to take it away from you until you tell them to. There is no need to rush. I will put this cream on your shoulder while you eat.” Avalon had eyes for nothing but the food and ignored the ministrations of the orderly, feeling nothing but a cooling to her skin, but then a heat set in and the pain numbed. She looked at her arm in surprise and smiled a quick smile of thanks, mouth too full to speak.