Summary: Inspired by Garth Brook's song That Summer and Stephen King's Delores Clayborne. An old friend has been accused of murder, and Captain Jonathan Archer must prove her innocence. But will old secrets become too hard to hide and ruin the good Captain's career?
Author's Note: My thanks to Ladyhawke Legend for her wonderful encouragement with this story and for proof reading this thing. Whatever mistakes are the writer's fault not the editor's.
Ice Tea with Mary Lee
By S.C. Little
Behind These Prison Bars Chapter One
Nashville Penitentiary: January 2, 2153, Laundry Unit 51b
"Shit! Who the hell put these in here?! How many times do we have to go over this? Put the bloody shit in the gray bin, not over here!" Nell had had it. This was the third time she had to tell the girls not to put any bloody towels or underwear in her sock pile. Socks were her job. It was the easiest job, and she got it because she had been there the longest. "Queen of Socks" many of her fellow convicts called her, only when she wasn't around of course. The name fit her well, because she practically ran the prison.
It wasn't just her gruff personality or her ruthless demeanor. It was because she stood six foot two and weighed about two hundred sixty-five pounds. She was known to beat the crap out of any of the guards that looked at her funny. She was literally the biggest bitch you'd ever met. And she was Mary's roommate.
Mary Lee has been in the Nashville Women's Institution for four years. Her incarceration was to be for six years for attempted man slaughter. She was given the word that, because of good behavior, her time here was just about up. In three days she would be free. Free. That word seemed too perfect, too beautiful, too sweet to hear, much less say, without getting her a little choked up.
When she first found out about it, she kept it to herself. It was her own little secret. She hadn't had anything that truly belonged to her that couldn't be taken away in a long time. She would tell Nell today.
"Somebody had better spill it. Who's the shithead that put these in here?!" Mary knew who it was and she believed Nell did too. This was a test. Nell was a bitch, but she was not an evil or mean person. She was an educator, her curriculum - How to be a Hard Ass, by The Queen of Socks. She taught the "New Fish" how to survive in prison. Many of her pupils failed. Mary wondered if this one would.
The horn sounded, time for Lunch. Mary smiled to herself, "Saved by the bell, ay kid." She looked at a skinny red headed girl that looked like a Chihuahua she use to know. The poor kid had just been here a week and was already in trouble with the wrong people.
"Alright, everyone lineup," one of the guards yelled.
As they all fell in, Mary noticed a wet spot on the red head's backside. She had pissed herself, probably because the horn startled her and because of all the yellin' Nell was doing. Mary couldn't blame her.
'Three more days of this,' Mary thought. Even though she had only spent four years behind bars, she had earned more respect behind them than in civilized society. Maybe because of her age. She would be sixty this year and that made her one of the elders in the prison. Sixty wasn't that old, but in prison everything was different. There were two types of season veteran prisoners: the Legends and the Crazies. The legends were those who were serving double life sentences or more. Crazies were those that entered the prison when they were very young, and prison life was the only life they knew. They became institutionalized. When their time was up and they had to reenter society, they can't handle it. So then they would do something to be put back in. Mary considered herself neither of these. She had a farm to get back too.
The heat of the cafeteria and the stench of overcooked vegetables knocked her back to reality. "Back to the land of the living," her mother use to say.
As she went through the lunch line and trays were being sloped with watery mash potatoes and limp yellow broccoli, she heard a few of the ladies arguing over the T.V. There was one television in the entire cafeteria and there had been more fights over which channel to turn it than it was worth.
"I'm not watchin' the damn news channel," one prisoner said.
"Well, maybe you should. Who knows, you might learn something," another one said.
"Sit down and shut the hell up, or you won't have anything to watch it with!" That came from Brooks. If Nell was Queen Bee, she was Princess Bee. In fact, she looked like one. Honey skinned with short black hair and a figure mint to be on a Playboy Calendar. It would be foolish to judge this filly on her physique, however, because she was hard as nails and probably more ruthless than Nell herself. But to Mary Lee both of these women had become her family. Today was the day she would have to tell both of them she was getting out.
On the television, the newscasters had just finished with sports and had started talking about the Enterprise NX-01 and her crew.
"Sshh, hey, everybody shut up!" Mary exclaimed. She had been reading anything she could get her hands on about the Enterprise and her crew, especially the famous Captain Archer. She had known that man for over twenty-five years. When they showed his picture on the screen, the entire cafeteria went into heat. Cat calls and "Oh babies" could be heard for miles. Reminded her of how the girls down the road use to sneak on her property and go in the barn, where he spent most of the time working, and flirt like crazy. When she decided he'd probably had enough she go and runem' off.
Sitting in between Nell and Brooks it was hard to keep a straight face. Even the hard asses were hootin' and hollerin', like they'd never seen a man before. It was a weird feeling to have known someone since they were practically a child, and then see everyone else react as though they were a movie star. For Mary, she couldn't see the Captain Archer like everyone else. She still saw the sad eyed boy that dreamt about the death of his daddy. The same boy that didn't have to shave but once a month. The same kid that drank chocolate milk while eating pizza.
With those memories came much less pleasant ones. She had made many mistakes in all her fifty nine years, but that one July Fourth, she made the biggest mistake of all.
It was hot as hell that summer and that July Fourth was the worst. She remembered how that old cotton dress stuck to the skin of her back and sides. She remembered how the grass tickled her feet, and how the sweat gathered under her bottom lip, under her breasts, and in between her fingers and toes.
She remembered how he looked working in that old barn, fixin' that damn door, the one that Wild Montana kicked in. Sweat poured off that deep tanned skin, like rain. Well-muscled for a boy his age. He was perhaps the most beautiful boy she had ever laid eyes on. She remembered how soft that honey, velvet hair felt, when she ran her fingers through it.
Bam! Nell had used her knee and bumped the table bottom. "Mary! Snap out of it, woman!"
"Sorry." Mary said, feeling a little uneasy now.
"You've been actin' strange all morning. What's up, you gettin' senile or something? This ain't a good place for that." Brooks pestered her.
Mary took a deep breath. "No, no. I'm fine. It's just that... I'm getting out of here."
Nell started to cackle. "What! You jump'en the fence?!"
"Hell no, not without a horse!" She smiled at her own words. "No. They said I'm getting out. Good behavior. I'm here for three more days." She took a sip of her water.
"Damn. Well, we're gonna to miss ya. What're you gona do when you get out of here?" Nell asked. Brooks was quiet.
"I got a farm waitin' on me. Probably gone to seed, but still it's mine. The day I walk out that door I'm gonna fix a great big pitcher of ice tea and sit on my porch. I don't give a damn if I freeze my ass off. It's what I've been dreaming about doing for four years."
Nell smiled. "That sounds real nice."
Brooks made a scoffing noise through her nose. "Nice, shit. Nice for an old woman, maybe, but not me. When I get out of here, I'm gonna get me a shuttle and fly straight over to San Francisco, go straight to that... ah... what ever it's called, the 602 Club, find the biggest officer there, and have it off with him."
Nell hated it when people interrupted her, and Mary hated being called old. Nell spoke first. "Did anybody ask you?! No, I don't think so. And if you call her old one more time, we're gonna see how far you can fly."
Brooks was quiet for the rest of the day.
-Two and a half days later-
As Mary left the gate she looked back to see Nell and Brooks. There they stood together, Brooks serving three more years and Nell two life sentences back to back. This would probably be the last time she would see Nell, but she didn't doubt this would be a goodbye for Brooks. She held out her brown hand in a salute and they did the same. She whispered, "Till we meet again, old friends." She turned and walked away. She wouldn't let them see her cry. That was never their way.
The weather was cold, but at least it wasn't snowing. She had to walk ten miles to get to her home. She didn't have the money for a shuttle or would want to waist it. She never minded walking. In fact, walking that road just reinforced the reality of her freedom. She could go where ever she wanted now.
When she finally got to the farm she knew she was right about how it would have gone to seed. Ivy was growing right up the house and so was the honeysuckle. The paint was chipped so badly and dirty as anything. It looked soot gray. That didn't matter today. She opened the door and in went to her sink. She turned the faucet on expecting nothing to come out of it. But water flowed clean and clear. She turned the lights on and everything worked. Then she saw the note on the fridge. It was from Mr. Isaac Hodges, an old friend.
It read: "Dear Mary, Don't worry about a thing. I had both the electric and water turned on Sunday. Phone will be out until next week. They've been having trouble with the line. Sorry for the inconvenience. Looking forward to seeing you. I'll be over tomorrow and help you fix up the place. I had Mrs. Keet fix you some supper. It's in the fridge. Have a good night, Isaac Hodges.
"Sweet man," Mary commented softly after reading the note. She turned and filled a pot of water and set it on the stove and turned the burner on high. While she waited for the pot to come to a boil, she climbed up on a chair to get her cookie jar down from the fridge. That was where she kept her tea.
She did what she said she would. She wrapped herself in an old quilt, the one her grandmother made, and sat out on the porch with a glass of ice tea. This was her heaven, her home. Nothin' could take her away from here again. Not a damn thing, so help her God.
TBC