Sundays
represents that awkward moment when you write bad fanfiction of your own work.
As I was writing Hidden, I somehow got in the back of my head that the
character who is in the strongest position (Maxwell) and the weakest (Haley)
had this relationship going on. I have no idea how to look at this again (As this is literally the first time I've re-read it in 3 4 years),
without poking fun. So, now that I have my good friends Jim, Jack and Jose...let's see how this goes.
I was the first to see him.
----Alex Haley----
-1-
I did not sleep well the night leading up to Harlow’s return from his punishment.
I was too excited.
Harlow had been gone for 20 whole days, I kept track by scratching notches into my shoes. Otherwise you tend to forget how many days have passed.
I was happy to see my big bother because I missed him but, I also knew he would control his friends. They seemed to have it out for me once Harlow was taken away.
Felix and Mitchell had taken to shoving me in the lines, throwing dirt in my face, tripping me and spitting in my food. I was forced to spend all day with them because we were all on building
duty and tasked with digging holes for the building posts. They would purposely throw their dirt into my hole and slow me down. The closer we got to Harlow’s return they had gotten meaner because they knew when Harlow got back he would not let them hurt me anymore.
Did I sufficiently Break The Cutie ? No ? Good, because it only gets worse.
Harlow came back at the beginning of a workday and the first thing he did was walk up to me and hug me. He had never hugged me before unless our grandmother was forcing us to.
He told his friends to knock it off and leave me alone and he went about his work duty with his face to the sky. He talked a lot but, I did not listen well to what he said that day.
I suppose I should have listened.
I remember lying in the bunk underneath his that night. He was had his legs wrapped around the bed frame and hung down from the top so, we could talk to each other face to face quietly. Everyone else was asleep at this time.
“They said we can still go home in two months,” Harlow whispered,” That’s still time for Isla’s birthday.”
I smiled at the thought. Our baby sister, Isla was turning 5 and still at an age where she won’t remember not getting many presents for her birthday. Maybe I will bring her something from the work camp ?
“Yes,” I agreed, “ Harlow, you aren’t mad at me for telling ?,”
Harlow shook his head.
“No. I’m over it.” He smiled
He pushed himself up into his bed and mumbled something I could not understand to me as he went to sleep.
The next morning, I woke up before the morning bell like I always did. I had become a light sleeper because I was always afraid someone was coming from around my back. Something moved eerily in my peripheral vision, I thought a piece of the roof had fallen off. I looked to see Harlow’s feet above me, swinging lazily from side to side.
I did not know what I was seeing. I wanted to shout at him to get down. He was so irresponsible always doing stupid things. My mind was still processing what I was looking at when I realized he looked like a doll.
He was lifeless.
“Harlow !,” I shouted.
By the way I really regret the name Harlow. It’s from an old list
of random names I keep. The list was dwindling, so I had slim pickings for names. He was supposed
to be Julian, but I wanted to save that name for a character who wasn't going to die in the first paragraph.
The morning bell sounded and the others began to wake up.
I jumped on top of my bottom bunk and attempted to pull him down by his feet but, I couldn’t reach. The other men were making noise, cursing at me. No one was seeing what was going on.
I know realize Harlow would have to be REALLY tall to hang himself from a ceiling that is tall enough for a person to be hung off of and still have his feet land beside Haley’s bed.
Also, I just realized people getting hanged and dead brothers makes an appearance in Blessed Hearts
“Harlow !,” I repeated
I stopped jumping and turned to Felix, Harlow’s best friend who slept across from us.
He was sitting up right in his bed paralyzed just staring up at the body.
Body.
If I left Harlow up there he was dead, if I took him down he would still be . . . dead ?
Um, yes. This is a horrific line. Like horrifically cheesy.
My face felt hot, I was confused and afraid, tears of frustration were forming. I heard the footsteps of the officers coming to look in on us. I collapsed on my bed, Harlow’s feet still hanging in front of me.
How is this possible ? Haley is on a bottom bunk !
I was scared and disgusted by what I had seen, my stomach failed me and I began to vomit as tears poured down my face. I could not stop either bodily reaction. I wasn’t crying for myself I was crying for Momma and Isla and the others—they will be so upset.
“What in the hell ?,” One of the approaching officers said
“Dear, God,” another one echoed
The officers were all gathered at the body, poking at Harlow, acting as though I was not even there
------Kenneth Maxwell-----
“Sgt. Maxwell, sir, uh, we need you. There is a suicide in the prison barracks,”
The shaky voice interrupted the show I was watching.
Damnit, there is something every day with these jackasses.
I flipped off the political daily I was watching on my Syndicate, headed out of my quarters, and to the prison barracks; I saw Corp. Strange standing outside of the barracks door. Strange was a decent man, took orders well and had his whit about him. However, I always suspected him a bit too arrogant and power hungry.
Okay, I don’t think I’ve ever written a character like Maxwell
since him. One who is arrogant and judge-y and ambitious. It’s kind of fun. I mean Sara is a little bit ambitious, but she's not arrogant about it.
He was different now, he seemed almost frightened of more than just me as I approached the barracks.
When I got to him he saluted me weakly. I was about to correct him but I was distracted by the noise coming from the barracks. It was a loud ruckus, mixed conversations, even some laughter, it sounded like disorder and I heard no one taking back control. I entered the barrack to see complete disorder among the prisoners and a boy hanging from the raptors—a situation that needed order now. This was what they hired me for. This was a mess.
Huh, he has a dominant personality. I’m sure this won’t ever come
back a up or come in handy again. *sarcasm*
“SILENCE,” I commanded, “I DON’T WANT TO HEAR A GOD DAMN WORD !,”
They all quieted down immediately except for a sobbing in the background but, that was not my biggest problem. I saw the problem and put the solutions in order. I needed to isolate the problem first.
Yeah, Maxwell is not a people person. Although he sees the prisoners as a bunch of problems that need fixing.
“Everybody outside with Corp. Strange, now ! Corp.Franz and Lansing stay here!”
I have no idea how I came up with these names.
Every offender cleared the room except for the source of the crying. I looked over to see the suicide victim’s brother—clearly lost in his head and filthy, sitting inches from the dangling corpse.
Alex Haley was a puzzle to me. I noticed him immediately on the first day.
I studied the criminal mind most of my college education and in my chosen career at some of the toughest courts in the Republic. I’d seen everyone from Yakuza, to petty thieves and that boy---Alex Haley was not a criminal, he couldn’t even try to be. His brother had barely qualified as a real threat.
I should have had him transferred out when I first laid eyes on him but, he also intrigued me. I was not sure if that was a good or bad thing. I wanted time to just watch and observe him—now it appears I have to do a bit more. I had to get involved.
As a recap, Haley is in prison because he was with his brother when he stole shoes. So, he’s not a criminal.
I put my hand to my Syndicate and called Robert.
“We are going to need a body bag in the prisoner barracks—please,”
So, Maxwell uses please because Robert Channing is the Wilson to his House.
“What have you done ?,” Robert asked
“It was a suicide. Hurry.”
I turned to Franz and Lansing who were still just staring at me waiting.
“Maj.Channing is bringing a body bag. One of you get up there and untie the noose when I leave,”
“Yes, sir.” They said in broken unison.
Franz inner monolouge: *What ? I’m not doing that !*
Lansing’s inner monolouge: *Well, I’m not doing it*
Self: Oh, god is this a suicide joke ? It’s not I swear. Ignore
this bit.
I paced over to the bed where Alex Haley was sitting, crying like no one was in the room with him.
Um,Except for you, no one is in the room with him !
This kid did not need to see his brother’s body get taken away. I reached underneath the bed and pulled out his extra set of clothes—tucking them underneath my arm.
I am so sorry for my use of kid here. Obviously he is older than a child.
“Follow me,” I said letting my finger rest on his shoulder.
He look down the words caught in his throat
“My . . .my shoes . . .”
I looked down to see he was barefoot. His shoes were on the floor in front of the bed but, had no laces in them. What the hell ?
I then realized what the noose was made out off.
PresentShawna: Oh dear, we’ve sufficiently broken the cutie
CrazyPastShawna: Oh this is only the beginning.
“Just come. Now.” I said
Erik: That’s what she said (because Shawna is way too smart to make this joke)
He followed me out of the barracks and I realized I had no clue where I was going to take him. I decided back to my quarters would have to suffice for now. There were no windows, he would have zero chance of seeing the body.
I imagined the space in my quarters would feel crowded with a guest but, he was so small he barely took up any room at all. I knew I was quite tall at 6’5 but, He was barely 100 pounds and had to be well under 5 foot 3.
That height thing is a little weird and maybe a little cartoon-y. I think Haley should be a few inches taller but the reason Haley is so thin is because well, he’s been in a prison camp for two months. But, yeah I wanted Maxwell to be pretty tall.
I handed him his extra set of clothes.
“Clean yourself up,” I said pointing to the door that led to the bathroom.
“Um, Thank you.” He said to me before disappearing behind the door.
Thank you ?
That was not something you say to someone after you witness a suicide, especially not the person who could have caused it. Not that I believed for one second I had caused this but, he might believe that.
He thinks he caused it. All the prisoners are HIS responsibility. He also knows Haley shouldn’t be there, so he feels bad about that.
Something about his tone actually made my heart wrench with sadness. I was ready to turn my political daily show back on (what else could I do ?) when I heard the water start run in the shower. My mind wandered somewhere else entirely and I could not concentrate.
I walked over and leaned against the bathroom door.
I could have sent Alex Haley away, I should have. The boy different, he was too good for this place. He was the one who should have been hanging from the raptors.
Up there with the rest of the angels.
Kill it with fire
He never once complained, never cursed, he worked hard even though the job was kicking his ass and did it all with a good natured aura. I leaned harder against the door letting my mind wander places.
Instalove
? Instalust ?
Although my most generous reading is that Maxwell begins to think, maybe you can really triumph over all.
No.
I have to attend to this suicide.
***
I shot myself in the foot with this suicide.
Damnit.
Every high ranking officer in the camp was in my office waiting for an answer. They all want me to fail I know it.
I know it because it is how I feel about every officer below me.
“Sgt. Maxwell, I expected better,” Major General Scott said, “ I want a full report and reason behind this. This will not fare well for the camp, the prisoners may rebel. ”
I
did ALL the research on military ranks by the way. No seriously, I did.
I was already ahead of him.
“I was thinking this could be used as a learning exercise for the prisoners. We use it as a punishment reinforcement” I said,” It has been done throughout history to maintain authority of POWS. We make the offenders believe the suicide was a condition of his punishment and scare them into obedience.”
I
think I made this up. I was trying to make this suicide meaningful, but it really isn't. It's a plot device.
It was a theoretical idea and an ethical nightmare but, the officers agreed to stick with the story. After all we had no idea why he had done it.
Now, I just needed one more thing.
“A request, Major General Scott, sir.” I said.
“Yes, Sergeant ?,”
“The brother of the victim, Alex Haley, he seems like a good kid who got trapped in the middle of this all. I think the other offenders will be trouble for him without his brother’s protection. We can’t have another suicide and I want to make him my charge. It will be part of the rehabilitation efforts I talked about when I got this position.”
AKA all that BS I said so I could get this highpaying, high level, supervisory role and not get put on the frontlines. Because the draft is in Hidden, but it’s not talked about much. I think Jean mentions how all the good football players have been drafted away.
“Look, Sergeant, I have a group of soldiers to train for a war. Now, Judge Brady said you know corrections better than I do so, I trust your judgment. Request granted.”
“Thank you, sir.” I sad
We all shook hands and I was left alone in my office relishing in my double victories. I had turned the suicide into a positive and I now had Alex Haley as my charge.
This is so sexual harassment.
My feelings for such a boy were not all that unusual. College and law school had brought all kinds of genders into my bedroom and since I started making six figures as a prosecutor I’d had a fruitless string of 2 month girlfriends and one night stands.
But, Alex I had never seen another boy like him. He was something very forbidden for many reasons.
I really should have clarified it was because of the whole:
- Superior/Subordinate relastionship thing
- Maxwell is rich and Haley is poor thing
- His brother just killed himself.
And not because of an age thing.
-2-
The next day the body was buried in a pine box in a marked grave at the military cemetery at Fort Liberty---our sister fort. Harlow’s was the first burial in the cemetery and it bothered me he was not a soldier but, I let it go. They did not give him a proper grave marker but, a piece of synthetic wood from a building project. They stuck it into the ground where the body was buried.
The Haley family could not afford to come and see the burial so the funeral consisted of his little brother mumbling a few words over the body and placing a dandelion on top of the marker. Using a drawing pen he wrote on the quasi-gravestone.
Harlow Louis Haley
Brother, Son, Grandson & Best Friend to All
We Love You So Much !
April 7, 2056 – June 2, 2081
The entire message was drawn inside of a lopsided heart.
I could have sent any high ranking private or corporal to escort Alex Haley to the funeral but, I had come to the funeral to be alone with Alex and tell him about my offer.
He had not cried during the brief funeral, his sadness seemed to be weaning and he was more afraid than anything. As we sat in the backseat of the car driving us back to Camp Independence he looked more bored than mournful.
“How were your grades in school ?,” I asked
“What ?,” Alex said, thrown off by the sudden change in the silence.
That word sounded insolent to me and irritated me but, hearing it coming from his voice took the edge off.
Maxwell is really creeping me out. WTF, past self ? I guess I wasn’t sure how 30-year-old men have crushes or something.
“School. How were your grades in school ? You have been to a school before, right ?,” I repeated
“I was expelled just before middle school.” He said softly ,”Not for being dumb, I just missed a lot of days. After that my grandmother homeschooled all of us—she said I always did well.”
I was hoping for more promise than that. This boy and his family was exactly what I hated about this country. The Eastern government that ruled over us did nothing to regulate people in things that mattered like education. If a kid in the Eastern State dropped out of school I’m sure all hell broke loose but, here it just passes as normal.
It’s like the Eastern State wanted all Westerners to be uneducated unproductive parts of society.
*Takes notes for Vice*
As I went through my higher education I distanced myself from uneducated people like him, they pissed me off.
Maxwell is a bit entitled.
“So, I can assume you can read ?,”
“Uh, yes, of course I can read.” He said
I had to at least check, you just never know.
Alex: Hi Mrs. Harrison, um, didn’t I just write on my brother’s gravestone ? He saw me do it, why would he ask if I can read.
SH: Oohh, continuity fail.
Alex: While I’m here, can I ask if I'm going to be in—
SH: Moving on.
“Mr. Maxwell ?,”
“It’s Sgt. Maxwell,” I corrected him immediately
“I’m sorry. Um, do you know why Harlow did . . . what he did. I mean, did he leave a note?.”
I still had no idea why he killed himself and if there was a note I am sure he would have given it to his brother before he gave it to us.
Harlow had been treated like any other person in isolation. He was kept in a holding cell, given menial tasks to complete and given 45 minutes to walk around outside. It was a punishment we had given to countless soldiers. It was the kind of punishment you would find any modern prison system. All we wanted to do was isolate him from the others not kill him.
Something in the kid had just snapped was all I could guess. I had a lie to keep up though. This death was going to be used for punishment reinforcement.
People will use the term kid a lot. I have no idea why. Harlow was 25.
“His punishment,” l said,” We sent him somewhere called purgatory and he could not handle it. You may be next.”"Also, I think I love you."
He appeared uneasy at this comment.
“However, I will offer you an opportunity,” I began, “Spend the rest of your sentence at my side as my assistant, my charge and you won’t have to go as well.”
“I can do that,” He said.
Huh, he agreed to that kind of quickly.
“Good.” I said
I liked Alex’s work ethic and compliance but, there were still things about him that needed to be fixed for this to work.
Time for Maxwell to be a controlling jerk. Sidenote: I totally wrote this a year before 50 Shades of Gray came out.
“You are very green, I will teach you everything you need to know. 50 important lessons—take care to remember them. The first one I already told you, you will address everyone in camp by their title even the privates who are fresh from basic training. You will address the offenders by their last names and Mr. to remind them they have no ranks here. Understand ?”
“Okay.” He said
“Lesson two.” I continued,” It is Yes, sir or No,sir. I will not tell you again. Sir is a sign of respect. If you can’t remember this you will soon end up on my bad side.”
“Yes, sir.”
These scenes cut off awkwardly.
--------
Sgt. Maxwell gave me a different kind of education the day I said good bye to Harlow. There was so much to learn but, I took it all in because I did not want to go back to being a prisoner and needed the distraction from all of the sadness.
Wow, this sounds way kinkier than I meant it to.
Lesson 5 was how to polish a shoe.
Lesson 10 was how to string a shoe
Lesson 13,how to spell military terms
Lesson 16, how to ask.
Lesson 18 how to organize paperwork
Lesson 21, how to take notes.
Lesson 27,how to stand
Lesson 30 , how to time physical training
Lesson 34, when to be quiet.
Lesson 35,when to talk.
Lesson 40, how to grade a paper
Lesson 42, how to memorize names
Lesson 49, how to carry a freshly dry cleaned uniform.
He did not get to Lesson 50 that day.
Because lesson 50 is when things get bad. So bad.
Also,
OMG, you guys I think EL James Copied me. I think, I’ve never read 50 so I don't really know what the number refers to.
------
The morning after Harlow’s funeral, Sgt. Maxwell pulled me out of bed before the morning bell. He gave me a uniform to change into. It was black like all of the other soldiers but it looked different, Sgt. Maxwell explained it was a civilian uniform worn by boot camp candidates. After I got dressed, I followed him to County Hall, the main administration building on camp and where I would be working.
Okay, the timing is off. There is no way he could learn all those things in half a day since he spent half the day at Harlow’s funeral.
It was the only finished brick and mortar building, other buildings were being put together by the prisoner’s labor. A new building seemed to appear every week.
“Don’t look so scared, soldier.” Maxwell said.
“Am I soldier ?,” I asked. The words flew out before I realized I should not have asked that, it was probably a stupid question.
“No, of course not. You just look like one.” He said.
I also just realized this whole setup doesn’t work. By making a former prisoner into a paid employee at the camp, they are making him a target to all the prisoners.
We headed up the stairs, into the building and down the hall into his office.
“You will stick with me for today, I want you close by,” he said, “As the other officers see how useful you can be, I will start to give you more freedom but you must not try and leave camp or take advantage of the mercy I am showing you. Do you understand ?,”
“Yes.” I answered, “Thank you so much, sir”
“What are you thanking me for ?,”
I was not expecting that question.
“For letting me be . . . here and . . . not with the others—I mean the offenders.”
Speaking of awkward sexual relationships…..*Imagine this next part in the voice of someone talking on ABC’s Scandal*
“Do you know what I did before I came here ?,” he said “ I was a state prosecutor— with a 92% conviction rate. That means I put a lot of terrifying men in prison. I was handpicked by the military leaders to be here because I am an excellent judge of character. You are not with the others because you do not belong there. Not because of me.”
Also, I have a weird crush on you. So, yeah.
I nodded my head
“I understand, sir” I said
I never even thought that people who did bad things ever got prosecuted anymore.
There was always someone getting killed or going missing back home and no one ever got in trouble for it.
“ A new platoon is coming from their basic training. We need to go and meet them.”
We left the office just as soon as we had come in and headed for the bus drop off.
Sgt. Maxwell was also the head of training of the fresh recruits, his job was to keep up moral and teach them all about the ethics of war and military services.
SH:So, somehow Maxwell is both head of a prison camp and in charge of training soldiers. Sure. Why not ?
CrazyPastSH: Yes ! I mean look at all this stuff we learned from
the military websites we went on to get the names of rankings. Look at the
forums ! Look at what these people go
through. And we just watched A Few Good Men. Let's us ALL the research !
SH: Oh, hey while you're here, do you know my Playlist.com password ?
CrazyPastShawna: No...what happens to my playlists ?
SH: Don't worry about it just keep putting the names of all the songs in blog posts
We walked across the camp to where a bus was getting ready to pull out. There was a group of men standing around.
The group of men standing there were nothing like the soldiers I had seen around camp. They stood around appearing lost and looked anxious, they did not immediately tense up when Sgt. Maxwell came towards them. Some of them even smiled as he approached.
“WHY THE HELL AREN’T YOU IN A STRAIGHT LINE ?,” Sgt. Maxwell yelled at them
They immediately formed a line.
I looked at the line of the men, they all looked nearly the same with their haircuts and uniforms. One of the men stood out and looked very familiar to me though.
I have no idea who this is.
“Do they teach nothing in basic training?” he barked at them, “ I am Sgt. Maxwell, I will be your immediate superior, is that clear ?,”
Okay, I have no idea what Maxwell does now. I guess he teaches like University 101-type classes to the newbies. I guess he meant to say Boot Camp there since he does the basic training.
“Yes,sir !” they said.
“Now, Tell me your names, last names first,” he commanded.
As the soldiers spit out their names I began to write them down and take notes on each person. The man who looked familiar was named Private Collins, a name I don’t think I had heard before.
Wait, what was I doing here ? I have no recollection. I think he is going to die.
-----
My game of control with Alex started this morning, and he was completely unaware of it. I needed him to be putty in my hands so, I could mold him into whoever I wanted. Having him around was the only thing keeping me from losing my temper on everyone.
Someone please call Olivia and Benson on Maxwell. Just please. I hope he redeems himself.
If they gave me a fucking gun I know I would have shot a couple of soldiers dead by now. It wasn’t murder, I was just speeding up the natural selection process.
Alex: Shawna, save me from this psycho !
SH: I am so, so, sorry.
CrazyPastShawna: It’s a joke, c’mon ! Black humor !
Also, there is not a lot of cursing in this. Shocking.
These drafted men were useless and they only pissed me off more each day. Only once every blue moon you would get a man who volunteered and really had his priorities in check. It made me even more upset that the draft boys were the only thing we could get. With men like them our army would only be laughed at.
I have seen the Eastern Military—I know for a fact a position in their military is actually desired.
The new platoon’s training had ended for the day and I watched Alex grading the tests I had the men take earlier. I did not have a desk for him yet so, he was on the floor a considerable distance from me.
It was a common interrogation technique—make him need something from me. Make him desperate. Make him ask.
Maxwell should write a book on relationships. Or stalking and being a creeper.
I had kept him within 5 feet since I had dragged him out of bed at 5AM this morning and it was now almost noon. He would need to ask me for something to eat eventually. When he asked me it would establish our relationship of who was dominant and who was submissive. A standard technique, I learned from the interrogators I worked with.
Hmm, Maxwell. You are like 2 feet taller than him, he works for you, you have 3 more degrees than him and he’s still a prisoner. Why the hell would you need to establish who is dominate ?
Also this interrogation technique is word for word from an episode of Law and Order. The detectives were trying to get someone to talk and they explained interrogation.
“When you are done grading them put all 24 of the exams in order from high score to low. Then I want you to use my computer and type all of my handwritten notes for tomorrow’s lecture.”
SH. Computer ? Have you used the word computer before in this?
CrazyPastShawna: Well, we were still getting the lexicon together.
SH: Why is he handwriting notes ?
CPShawna: Because their military is horrifically funded. Hence why the take petty criminals and make them do all the work around camp for free.
SH:Oh, that. That actually makes sense.
“Yes, sir.”
It was something they taught us in law school. To actually write things down with pen and paper and it was something I always did. I didn’t need typed digital notes, I just needed busy work for him.
CPShawna: See. I haz logic.
I put my syndicate on and turned it to the political news show I missed the other day because of the suicide and the funeral. I made a point of taking out my lunch and eating it as I did this. I occasionally heard his stomach growl but, he said nothing.
He would learn.
Alex: Why am I taking this, Shawna ?
CPShawna: Because you are just so nice and a wobbie/cutie I need to break. Also you're afraid and you don’t want to make him mad and—
Shawna: Nope, it’s because you’re an idea, not a fully realized person at this point.
------
“DIDN’T I TELL YOU TO PUT THESE FROM HIGH TO LOW!,” Sgt. Maxwell shouted at me,” DON’T TELL ME YOU CAN’T EVEN COUNT ! ARE YOU THAT STUPID ?”
He had just walked up behind me, surprising me.
Sgt. Maxwell looked even taller and scarier standing over me while I was on the floor. His eyes were always angry without the slightest indication of compassion. Or, er, craziness.
“I-I-I did as you said, sir.” I said
The highest mark was 57 out of 100, it went drastically down from there.
“Fucking idiots!,” He shouted
He picked up the papers and threw them in the trash and then kicked his desk. I saw other scuff marks where the desk had been kicked before.
“I’m sorry.” I said
“What the hell are you apologizing for ?,”
“I don’t know I--,” I almost said I was sorry again but, didn’t.
“Stop with the apologizes or I will give you a reason to be very sorry,” he growled ,”And what part of sir do you not understand ? Are you are dumber than I thought or just a disrespectful smartass ? ”
“I don’t know, sir “ I said
“You don’t know ?,” he barked getting closer to me.
I put my arms in front of my face and he stopped.
“I’m not going to hit you,” he said.
It took me a second to relax my position, I was really afraid he was going to hit me
He headed out the door and was half way down the hall before he turned around and came back
“Why aren’t you following me ?,” he barked,” Do you hear a single word I say ? What part of stick close to me do you not understand ?”
“I’m sorry,” I said,”Um, sorry,sir”
I was shaking, I could not believe how much I had messed up in only a few minutes. I followed him and he headed towards the common area of the building where the soldiers spent their down time.
“All soldier’s in the Harmony Platoon report outside now!,” he shouted.
They do give platoons names IRL. In the Veritas world, they choose names that sound happy and shiny to detract from the horrible conditions.
The quickly got up and followed him outside and formed two straight lines, they clearly had no idea what he was so upset about. When they were all standing straight he held up a copy of the exam in his hand.
“I am going to read off the correct answer to every question and correct answer on the 100 question exam you all just took and fucked up. You sons of bitches will stand at attention until I am done reciting the entire exam. If one of you drops position you will do 20 push ups. And then, we will start over.”
“Sir, yes, sir!”
“We will see,” he said, “Question one . . .”
---3--
I spent 3 straight hours reading the fucking test to those ignorant fuckups. I walked in between their lines making sure I could get a good look at each soldier’s position.
At question 78 one of the soldiers knees locked and he passed out—a rookie mistake that could have been avoided and as soon as he came back to they did pushups and we had to start over. The summer heat was sweltering as usual and I could see Alex was getting dizzy from the heat and lack of food and struggling to stand up.
After I finished reading them the exam I threatened them with another test and expecting 100% and then I dismissed them and they all quickly jogged off. I went back to my office and finally ate my lunch and watched my political program. Alex had not even asked for so much as a drink of water.
Fine, he could be stubborn.
At 5 PM, he still had not said another word to me but, he was working slower and I could tell he was weak. I wondered if he was even more stubborn than I was.
“Let’s go.” I said to him
I walked out of my office and down the hall to the officers lounge. It was empty because most of the officers had better places to be than in here. He sat in one of the chairs his hand hovering nervously over the table.
“Coffee or tea ?,” I asked
“Oh, I-I don’t have any money,sir” he said
“You have been a good worker, today it is on me,” I said
“Either one is fine, sir.” He said
The choices were minimal at best and the coffee around here was a little more than burnt water. I gave him some chamomile tea and settled for some black tea myself. I sat across from him and we sat in silence. He watched me as I drank, copying my moves like a shadow.
I have no idea why they are drinking tea. What is happening ? This tea drinking thing is going to come back up in Vice.
I was glad he was watching me because I was watching him. He looked worse for the wear. His skin was tan from all the outdoor work he had been doing but it was still thin, I could see little blue veins in his face and hands, his eyes were sunk in and graying around the edges.
He still looked like a 14 year old child, but a very tired
14 year old child who had seen better days. Or possibly never seen a better
day, you can never really tell with those people.
Unfortunate implications be unfortunate.
Alex: Um, also, did he say those people ?
CPShawna: heh, don’t worry. He’s going to have a change of heart. Or something. *I have no idea what I’m doing, but I can’t stop. Send help*
“You haven’t eaten today.” I said to him
“I-I well, I’m fine.” He said
“No, you are not. You look like shit. Are you hungry ?,”
“Well, a little, sir.”
“That is all you had to say. Come with me.”
I set the tea down and we walked back to my quarters.
I gestured for him to sit at my small bedroom desk while I went to the top of my closet and pulled out the box of food my mother had become so accustomed to sending. She was proud of me being in the military like her father had been and everyone else before him. She always wanted to do anything she could to help but, the food she sent was full of things I did not eat much of since I started intense physical training.
Because Even Bad Guys Love Their Mamas.
All that was left was mostly nonperishables, anything that was perishable I had thrown into the trash.
“There is a microwave by the closet. Take whatever you want,” I said
It actually made me feel better someone was eating the food, because I had no desire to eat anymore. Food was just fuel.
SH: Wait, Why didn’t they just go to the cafeteria ?
PCShawna: Uh, there’s no sexual tension in cafeterias
SH: Wait until you see Orange is the New Black
PCShawna: ?
SH: It’s this future show about women in a prison and one is this blonde who doesn’t…really…belong…
PCShawna: Is there awkward sexy times ?
SH: Moving on.
He looked at the box and carefully flipped one of the box’s flaps and read the address label.
“Thank you, sir.” He said
He was not facing me and did not see the quick smile that I got from him thanking me.
I have no idea where that smile came from. It had been a long day.
I took off my tie and uniform shirt and sat on the edge of my bed in my white t-shirt. I turned my Syndicate to MNN and lit up a cigarette. I cursed when the flame didn’t catch the first time, the lighters were prison grade and impossible to use. I had not been much of a smoker before I joined the military but, now I needed it not to kill someone. I even had a few special cigarettes in my desk drawer at the office for when I really needed to cool down.
SH: He just dropped like 12 F-bombs, but can’t say marijuana.
CPShawna: Because marijuana is for poor people. “special cigarettes” sounds cooler.
SH: You don't know what cooler means do you ?
I watched MNN for a while before I looked up to check on Alex. He was sitting in front of me in my desk chair. He had a cup of soup in front of him, I could not get over the way he held the spoon so awkwardly.
I don’t think I ever explained the setting well. They are basically
in what looks like a single bed college dorm room. That for some reason has a private bathroom.
I knew a thing about the unfortunate people who lived like him, I was sure they did not eat well and hardly knew how to hold a utensil. It was degrading.
I turned back to the show and I was into the show for quite a while when I looked up to see Alex was still sitting at my desk, done eating the soup. He had moved on to some other activity.
In his hand was a green marker. I always kept a set of colored markers for when I was looking at maps or taking notes. I got out of bed and walked behind him to see he was drawing faces on the flap of the box in different colors. He dropped the pen when he realized I was behind him.
I turned his chair around so he was facing me and I sat on the edge of the bed across from him. The foot of the bed and the desk were very close, our legs were inches apart.
“Harlow’s little friends hate you don’t they ?,” I said
He was thinking of the answer.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” I said.
Nothing got past me, I was aware of any hazing that went on between prisoners and even the soldiers. It was needed to keep order within groups and none of it had caused any problems for me so I let it continue.
He nodded his head
“Tell you what,” I said turning the Syndicate back on, “Stay here the night. You can sleep in my bed.”
“No, sir that’s okay--,”
“That is an order.” I said,” I will sleep on the floor for tonight.”
“No,sir , I could no--,”
“Remember what I taught you. Always follow an order. That is a lesson that will keep everyone in this place in order. Remember ?”
“Yes, sir.” He complied.
As I stood up, he took my place on the bed and laid his head down. He was asleep within minutes. It was no surprise he had been up since 5 AM. He would get used to the early hours and late nights as I had.
“Haley,” I said in a normal tone of voice.
I repeated his name.
He was completely knocked out.
I picked up his thin arms and dragged him to the head of bed, so his head was resting on the pillow. He barely took up any room on the bed, I had no idea how another man could be so impossibly small.
Maybe it's because you are so impossibly tall
I unbuttoned his black shirt and threw it in the top of my closet, his undershirt became disheveled and I saw some fresh bruises on his stomach— They didn’t look serious but,I wondered what kind of hazing they were from. I covered them with the shirt.
SH:This is the first of many undressings--
CPShawna: This one is innocent ! I mean I guess...
I undid his belt—he stirred for a bit but, did not wake up and I pulled his pants off and put them in the closet with his shirt. His legs were covered in healed scars—he clearly had not been a delicate child. I quickly covered his body with the sheet.
Read: He got beat up. A lot.
I still believed what I always did in Alex-- he could be something better and I would make sure that happened one day.
I took a shower and splayed out on the floor to go to sleep. The concrete floor was ice cold and dirty, it seemed ridiculous. After an hour I stood up and sat across from Haley on the other side of the bed. Haley had gotten even more under the sheets and now all I could see was a thin outline of his body in the sheets and the very top of his hair.
I was not tired, I didn’t sleep much since I was recruited for the military. I was always too busy thinking about what need to get accomplished for the next day to really sleep.
It keeps switching from him being recruited and him asking for the job.
I walked my fingers up the outline of his thin legs, across his slender waist, around his chest and let my hand rest on his soft hair. As I turned my Syndicate back on I began brushing his hair, moving it away from his hidden face.
Alex: OMFG, SHAWNA! What the heck ?!
CPSHAWNA: Wait, there’s a reason- there’s a reason-
After a while I felt something wet on my hand. I pulled it away to see tears, I grabbed him and jerked him towards me his eyes were clamped tightly down. There were tear stains on his face
“What ? Why are you crying ?,” I asked
He was silent trying to hide them, acting as though he were still asleep.
CPSHAWNA: See I needed him
to see you were crying. This petting-lovingly-while-other-person-sleeps crap happens in romance novels ALL THE TIME.
SH: That doesn't make it less illegal and creeepy...
Alex: Present!Shawna, I change my mind about this whole Vice thing. Just leave me out of anything you do ever. Just, please. Thank you.
“Answer me,” I said
His hand covered his mouth.
“What ?” I barked pulling his hands away.
“I’m sorry, sir,” he said,” It’s just . . . I’ve just lost my brother,”
CPShawna: See ? Maxwell has kept Alex busy all day so this scene is the first time Alex’s been away in his thoughts and his brother’s death hits him. This is the moment when he feels his grief and Maxwell is the person who witnesses that. This is the first time Alex let’s his guard down and stops trying to be who he thinks he should be. It’s meaningful, I swear.
SH: Go sit in a corner please. You will not be coming back out in any other serials.
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