The Divine Comedy
Chapter Two
Oh Well
After the…Vaseline incident, as it had come to be known as, Jamie was hopping from cell to cell, never getting along with his roomies. What amused him the most is that they actually had to cut Bubba's head out of the bars. Bubba has never been the same since. But Jamie…it seemed like every guy he roomed with wanted a piece of his "sweet, virgin ass", as they liked to call it. And they all met the same fate as Bubba.
Jamie punished them a different way, but they never got to shove their pee-sticks in Jamie's shit-pocket. One guy was actually found with four broken ribs, folded in half. Interestingly enough, between each and every cell transfer, Jamie always ended up doing at least a week in solitary. Wonder why?
And that thing about dropping the soap? So true. But all the men in the showers left Jamie alone after the first guy tried it. Turns out none of them wanted a foot to the jaw either. In the short two months Jamie had been in prison, people had learned that if you messed with Jamison, he didn't care what the consequences were, as long as he got his point across. He spent so much time in solitary that the guards knew him as a regular, and one started calling him 'Sonny'. Hmmm, old lady déjà vu.
From the extra week Jamie spent in solitary, he could tell that the guard liked those teeth.
The warden finally decided to put Jamison in a cell with someone who would never make a move on him. "Put him in the cell with Twitchy."
The guy had spiky orange hair, one eye seemingly bigger than the other and a crooked grin on his face. Well, he couldn't criticize his hair, having cut his own a few days ago. Their styles didn't much differ. But Jamie didn't know whether to be scared or laugh at the Wile E. Coyote reject. But when he entered the cell, the freak never made a move.
They coexisted easily enough. Turns out, Twitchy was in for bank robbery. He had held up a bank and then made the mistake of stopping at the Taco Bell across the street for lunch. One of the bank tellers recognized him and the police arrested him. All things considered, Twitchy was a pretty cool guy. However, Jamie started losing sleep when the lunatic started muttering something about earth's sisters and moon shadows. And something about having stars in your eyes.
What-the fuck-ever…fruit cake. Well, at least it wasn't another Tinker-fag.
As it would turn out, Twitchy's grandfather had been one of the men to escape Alcatraz. He kept telling stories about his grandfather's time in the island prison. Even at lunch, the prisoners would gather around him to hear the tales of Twitchy's grandfather, half of them taking notes. They referred to him as Twitchy Senior, or just gramps. And half of that number actually tried to escape. None made it. Mostly because Twitchy had been describing an island prison. This place was in the middle of up state New York. But Twitchy never paid any mind. He even laughed when he found out that someone actually tried to escape using the advice he gave in his stories.
Jamie would have himself a good laugh, too; especially when he told the story about the toothpaste. That was a real hum-dinger.
Just staying in here and serving your sentence was a better way to live. Three hots and a cot, and no cops on your ass. Not to mention your face won't appear on America's Most Wanted. But everyone wanted to escape. Everyone had their own sob story about 'it was an accident' or 'I was framed'! It was no use. They had a better chance of getting out early on good behavior than escaping.
Because he had been charged with manslaughter, Jamie was forced to take a special anger management course for convicts who had committed murder. No one else there had killed three people, so Jamie kinda felt special. No, not in that little Roadie Van kind of way. There were at least six people in the room, dressed in their orange jumpsuits as usual, sitting in a circle.
The counselor was a beautiful young woman who all the men there drooled over. And no wonder. She wore a short skirt and a tight button up top that showed plenty of cleavage and left little to the imagination. Combine that with six horny men who haven't had any in close to twelve years, and you could understand the armed guards at the door.
Jamie never paid any attention when he attended these meetings. Probably a good thing too.
"Alright," the counselor said. "Mr. Black, do you feel sorry for what you did?"
He had been staring out the window for the past half hour, but was snapped out of his funk when he heard his name.
"Huh? You say something?"
"I asked if you felt sorry for killing those three men."
Jamie just stared at her for a second before bursting out laughing.
"What is so funny?" the counselor asked.
"Excuse me," he said after his laughter slowed. The grin on his face, however, never went away. "I could have sworn you asked if I was sorry."
"I did. Why? Is that a problem?"
"No, it's not. I just think it's a stupid question. You apparently didn't do any research on your students."
"Meaning?"
"You didn't read the court record when I was on the stand. I'm not sorry… about anything I did. The reason I laughed is that I realized something. This is a penitentiary, right?" Before the counselor could answer, he continued. "But just one problem: no one here is penitent. No one is sorry. Especially not me. Those three deserved death, and I only gave them what they earned."
"And you believe it is your place to play God?"
"I wasn't playing God. He doesn't pass judgment with a gun."
Shortly after, the counselor exempted Jamie from the anger management course. He didn't have an anger problem, at least not anymore. He just did what he felt had to be done, and he was content knowing that he did the right thing. Didn't matter what the authorities thought. But he still felt like he didn't belong here. He had done society a favor and this is how they thank him? Only being able to see your family through Plexiglas? The system can be so cruel sometimes.
Later on he was out in the recreation yard within the razor wire barrier of the prison. His cell block got about a three hour break to walk around, get some fresh air. Well, about as fresh as New York air could get. Most of this time he would spend watching his back or staring through the cold molded steel of the fence. He wanted out, as if you couldn't tell.
He was having an ever so pleasant day dream when someone came up and put a hand on his shoulder. He was about ready to knock that person's block off.
"Whoa, buddy, ease up." It was Bubba, and he put up his hands in surrender. He was still sporting a bit of a black eye.
"What do you want?" Jamie shrugged. He really didn't want to deal with anyone right now.
"My buddies and I think you're a real toughie; you got style. They want to talk to you. C'mon, no tricks; just give them a chance."
"Like you gave me?"
"Yeah, well," he paused a moment. "I'm sorry about that. I thought you were just another little pussy-footer. So what do you say?"
Jamie shrugged again. Fine, why the hell not.
Bubba led him over to a group of similarly built men on the opposite end of the fence. They could even pass as a mass of twin brothers. Good grief; talk about stereotypical. Yeah, you can shoot me later. The biggest one, apparently he was the one in charge, had a thick red goatee. Jamie had only heard of him and the infamous bull horn tattoos on the sides of his half bald head. It was more or less a crew cut. Give or take.
"So you're the green horn I've been hearing so much about? Word has it you've kicked the asses of every man on your block. You know, I pictured you a little taller."
"Yeah, blow me." Maybe that was a bad choice of words. "What's it to you?"
"Nothing much, it's just that you impress me. The guys and I thought you earned a mark by standing up for yourself."
"A mark?"
"Just a tattoo. It's our way of warning everyone; keeps the peace so to speak. Even Twitchy's got one. We just can't show you where without causing a fuss."
Jamie didn't want to know.
Hell, why not. Everything else around him was changing. Why not go a step further and change yourself a bit? He agreed.
"Cool," he nodded his head in approval. "You can have any color you want as long as it's black."
Jamie laughed a little bit.
He had the guys put a crescent moon mark on the back of his neck. They even went so far as to fill in the dark side of the moon, leaving the infamous sliver traced out and noticeable. It was pretty damn cool, almost empowering. They managed to finish it before their outdoor period was over. It throbbed painfully for a few days after that, but he didn't much notice it.
The month or so following was uneventful, that was until the good old cell block idiot approached Jamie-more or less tripped to Jamie-with a proposition.
(II)
"Andrea, you okay?"
She snapped out of it. Wasn't sure where her mind was at the moment but Dennis' voice brought it back again.
"Oh, yeah, I'm fine."
"Still thinking about the dream?" he sounded as if he already knew the answer.
"Can't put anything past you, can I?"
"No, I don't think so. What do you think it means?"
"I'm still trying to figure that out. I have a feeling, but I just need to consider it a little longer."
She knew rather well what the dream was about. In fact she thought of it more as a vision. Phoenix could see into the near future, so she learned, and lately she'd been given these premonitions in her sleep. It's not that the most recent one was of ill comings, but it was slightly disturbing.
Everything she saw was in black and white. There was no color to distinguish shapes and figures. It was slightly blurred; like it moved in fast forward. She saw the Calm Lands, and that was perhaps the only thing that made any sense. The rest just seemed like a jumbled mess, strew across empty space.
Andrea picked out a few faces. She only recognized two of them. One was Rikku and the other was Paine's youngest sister, Jennifer. They stood side by side with what looked to be the world of Spira beneath them. Then the moon would come into play. First it was full, and then it went gradually through the other main phases: half and new. It would go through a second cycle until it reached the crescent position. Then the image would shift slightly and become a mark on someone's skin. That someone turned around and Andrea couldn't make out his face. It felt familiar, but she failed to place it in her memory. He looked to be a stern, internally chaotic man with black hair. Then he would suddenly transform into a monstrous, three headed wolf and begin snapping and snarling wildly. The moon remained behind him, making its unnaturally swift procession through its phases.
What frightened her most about many of these visions was that the sun would be eclipsed by the moon. It gave her a bad feeling.
It was like the visions were just pieces of an overly edited film. So much of the full story was lying in the cutting room floor somewhere, leaving her to do a lot of guesswork. Each image would only be minutes, maybe seconds long. She would see the previously mentioned first, and then the weird shit would start popping up. There were brief glimpses of Gippal and Cid, and then she would see half-fiends. After that the vision would end, and she would wake up.
"Andrea?"
"Sorry, I spaced out again," she shook the daze away.
"You want to go back to the village and rest? You look a little…off."
"No, I'm fine. I just hate getting distracted. I want us to try this one more time; it's getting late anyway."
"If you say so."
(II)
Since they returned to Besaid from Bevelle a few months ago, Andrea and Dennis both knew that the Four Guardians would be coming back soon. The Phoenix was already in its place within Andrea, but the other three had yet to show themselves. By now they had found a human form, so it was only a matter of time before they made themselves known. They weren't sure what that meant exactly, but Andrea didn't want any surprises. She wanted to be prepared.
Since Dennis was already gifted in magic, Andrea got an idea. Who was to say that the so called spells of her dimension wouldn't work here? No, Andrea wasn't a witch, but in some circles of the Arts there were spells. She knew some of them; mostly wards for protection. She tried them herself to see if they worked, and when the proved useable, she thought to pass them on. Even a little bit helps.
Andrea taught him the strongest ward she knew. It was complicated and they'd been attempting it for over a week now. The most difficult part of it was getting the symbol draw out correctly. You see, the spell consisted of the caster to trace out a symbol in the air with his hand, but it had to be in a certain way. If was done incorrectly the spell wouldn't work. The culture gap was a bit of problem too. Dennis had never read this sort of figures before. Also he had to say a word that was in a totally different language to anything he'd ever heard. To put it bluntly his pronunciation was terrible. I mean; is it really that difficult to say "Kotoku"? I didn't think so.
"Ready?" Dennis asked.
"Yeah," Andrea picked up her lance and held it. "Don't try to rush yourself this time. We're not in a hurry."
Dennis nodded and took a relaxing breath. He closed his eyes as he stood and focused. When he opened them again he began to draw the seal in the empty air in front of him. He took his time, just as was suggested, and managed to do it right. He even spoke the command correctly. They were getting somewhere. He kept his hand out in front of him, keeping the spell in continuance. One would never guess the ward was in place. There had been no change, no sign of the presence.
Andrea nodded to him and raised the lance over her head, bringing it down in a powerful arc. The bladed end whistled before striking the invisible barrier, making the spell react and glow a light green. The impact was so strong that the metal weapon vibrated hard enough to where she had to drop it. It was hurting her arms. Dennis dropped his hand and ended the spell.
"Are you all right!" he tried not to laugh; she was snickering too. Mind you she was holding on to her sore wrist but she was still smiling.
"Yes-ouch-I'm fine. That was pretty good."
"So it worked?"
"Yup. That was a strong one too. Good job." And she managed to stand up straight again.
"Let me have a look at that," and he took hold of her hands.
"I'm fine, really,"
"I know, I just wanted an excuse to hold your hand." He grinned.
"Like you needed one."
He laughed a little bit, his eyes looking at the ring on her finger. She noticed the expression on his face. Calm excitement is what it resembled.
"When do you think would be a good time?" he asked.
"I was thinking about that a while ago." She sighed.
"And?"
"I want to say right away but," she paused. "I think we should wait until this whole Guardian mess is over with. I would just feel better knowing that it's behind us."
Dennis nodded his head, saying he was hoping she'd want to do it as soon as possible. But he understood why she wanted to wait.
"You sure there's going to be anything left once this is over?"
"I'd like to think so. I haven't had any visions that show me the world being destroyed. Actually, I don't think destruction is really the issue."
"Then what is?"
"It's more or less just a time of great change. That's all. No death, but no creation either. That's the vibe I'm getting anyway."
Dennis nodded again. He didn't really understand it fully, but he got the basic gist of what she was saying.
A little more time passed before they decided to go back to the village. It was later than they thought and they needed to get some sleep. Tomorrow everyone was getting together for the morning ferry. Yuna decided to do a concert in Luca. She loves to do it, we all know that. It had been over a year since she last heard Yuna sing, and if she recalled correctly she had a nice voice. Not to mention she wanted Andrea to open up for her. Anything for a chance to play; she couldn't resist the offer. The High Summoner had already gotten a group of other musicians together for the performance. Whoa, a full band? Kick ass! If it wouldn't be so incredibly creepy, Andrea would kiss her. But we all know how that would turn out. In one way or the other it would be quite bad…in every sense of the word.
As she and Dennis lay in bed together he had to ask her something.
"Andrea?"
"Hm?"
"You think we should have kids? I mean, after we get married and all."
"Well," she couldn't finish and sounded…bothered.
"I mean, we don't have to right away,"
"No, it's not that. It's just…I don't think I can."
Dennis lifted up his head and looked at her. She rolled over so she could see him.
"That drug they gave me all those years ago messed with my hormones. I got the impression that I couldn't have children. I mean, it's been what-several months since the last time we…and nothing has happened. I don't know."
"It's okay. Who knows, maybe we'll get lucky." He put his arm around her.
"I've never been known for my luck, but I suppose you're right."
Dennis laughed a little. "Maybe you'll have a vision."
"Not funny." She tried not to laugh. She wasn't sure why, but something found it humorous.
(III)
"I can get us outta here, heh-heh."
Jamie and Twitchy had been on laundry detail when Twitchy proposed their escape. As it would turn out, Twitchy had been holding back a few vital details in his stories. His grandfather had told him how he escaped from Alcatraz, hoping that if his grandson saw how difficult it was to escape, he wouldn't get thrown in prison in the first place. That worked out nicely, wouldn't you say? Yes, quite swell.
Jamie listened to his plan, and it made a hell of a lot of sense. Twitchy had learned that there was a five minute window between guard shifts around midnight. If they got out in those five minutes, they could conceivably escape. The northern wall of the compound was bordered by forest, so one of Twitchy's friends could get on the outside and cut away some of the fencing. One of the guards was an old friend of his, Twitchy said. He said the officer would open their cell at the right time and let them out.
It sounded a bit suspicious to him, but Jamie was willing to stick his neck out on it. Anything to get out of this place. Not that he hated it, it was just boring as hell…and the food sucked.