Shadow Games

Chapter 5 – Lashing Out

Ryan found himself oddly relieved when he walked through the doors of the Juvenile Center. After being prompted toward the counter, Ryan was assigned a jumpsuit and then guided to a changing area where two large in-house guards watched him change from his street clothes to his jumpsuit. Collecting all his belongings, one of the guards placed everything in a box and turned it in at the registration counter.

"You hungry kid?" the remaining guard asked, less than interested.

"No. I just want to lay down."

Ryan's eyes hinted at his exhaustion and his quiet demeanor told the guard he was most likely being serious.

"Lunch isn't for another four hours. You'll stay in your cell until then."

Nodding, Ryan turned around and put his hands behind his back. He knew the routine forward and backward and he knew the guard wouldn't take him anywhere without the cuffs on. Dragging his feet, Ryan walked the long corridor to his cell. Once inside the confines of the tiny room, he backed up against the closed gate so the guard could remove his cuffs.

"Stay out of trouble kid."

Ignoring the guard, Ryan clomped forward and allowed himself to slump down on the cot. He could feel his body giving in. It was only a matter of minutes before he closed his eyes and relented.

"Atwood…let's go kid, wake up." The guard startled Ryan by banging on the bars with his baton.

Sitting up on the cot, he regarded the man behind the interruption. "Where are we going?" Ryan asked, forcing himself off the cot.

"Your Mother is here, let's go. Let's get these cuffs on."

His Mom. Ryan had no idea how much time had passed since he'd arrived at Juvie, but he knew it wasn't long enough. He didn't want to see her. Silently he backed away from the gate and folded his hands across his chest, sending a crystal clear message to the guard.

"Ah, so that's how it's going to be huh? You're gonna be one of these little shits that gives me a hard time in here? You stay there and you pout for a few more minutes little boy, I'll be right back and we'll see who's tougher."

Watching the confident guard walk away, Ryan knew things were about to get worse and his mind ran rampant with opportunity. With his arms still folded, he rocked in his cell waiting for his captors to return.

"Is this him?" one of five guards asked, leaning on the bars to Ryan's cell. "He's just a baby."

"Yeah that's what I thought until I read his report. That baby's got a bit of bite to him, gave the Chino P.D a rough time last night."

"Well then I guess he'll have to learn the hard way that we do things differently around here. We do things our way…no exceptions. Let's go kid, you got people waiting for you. Get your ass over to this gate and cuff up."

"You want me outta here…come get me," Ryan dared, not moving an inch.

A low laugh escaped from the talkative guard. "Oh he's a feisty one. You're gonna be sorry you said that boy. Open the gate."

Ryan could feel his heart pounding as if it might jump out of his chest. But he had one chance to get this right, one chance to make a difference so that it would be his way, and this was it. It all came down to the confrontation with this guard.

He watched the stern-mouthed guard enter his cell, his nametag read 'Diaz'. He was followed into the cell by two more guards with the last two blocking the open gate.

"Get over here," Diaz demanded.

"No."

"What did you say to me?"

"I said fuck you," Ryan replied a little louder.

When the guard turned his head momentarily to signal to his coworkers, Ryan stepped forward and clocked him right in the face with his fist.

"Now you've done it!" Furious at Ryan's lack of cooperation, not to mention the sucker punch to his face, the guard rammed the end of his baton hard into Ryan's stomach dropping him helplessly to the floor. "Bad boy! You don't hit the guards! You definitely don't hit me! What the fuck were you thinking?"

Responding wasn't even an option. Between gasping, gagging and coughing Ryan couldn't even concentrate on the guard's words. They left him on the floor to struggle for air. He could barely keep his face off the punishing guard's shoes.

The guards waited patiently for Ryan to regain some form of composure. There was a lesson to be learned here and they wanted to make sure he got it right.

When he finally quieted down a bit, Diaz tapped on his back with his baton causing Ryan to drop his head to the floor again and cover it with one of his hands. "Sit up a little bit kid."

Doing as he was told, Ryan still tried to keep his stomach pressed tight to stop the pain. And, just like he warned the mark at the pool hall, he knew standing up straight too quickly would cause him to vomit.

Getting down on his haunches next to Ryan, "Now, what was all that about? You got the balls to do it again? Huh punk? I'm right here, take your best shot."

Ryan raised his face to the guard and eyeballed him, fury still present in his stare.

"Oh look at this boys. He wants to. He's thinking about it," the guard taunted. "Come on little boy, let's see what you've got."

"I think you wore him out Diaz," one of the other guards chuckled. "I think he's done."

"Don't let this one fool you boys. You can see it in his eyes. He's backing down for now…but he's not done. This one still has plenty of fight left in him. He's not done by a long shot. But right now he's gonna do the right thing and go visit with his mom, aren't you kid?" the guard pressured, taking Ryan by the arm.

Allowing the guard to pull him up off the floor, Ryan yanked his arm free once he was on his feet.

"Uh oh, he's not done yet," Diaz observed. Putting an end to Ryan's plans, he put his baton across Ryan's throat and backed him up against the wall. Defensively Ryan immediately grabbed the guard's arms. "No no Atwood, don't do that. Calm down…calm…down." Once Ryan dropped his hands, Diaz flipped him around like a dead fish and held his head against the wall using a vice-like grip on the back of Ryan's neck. "Hands behind your back kid or its the baton again."

Deciding he'd had enough fighting for the time being, Ryan gave in and put his hands behind his back. His stomach was killing him and now his throat and the back of his neck were sore. This Diaz guy was going to be a pain in the ass.

"There, see," Diaz mocked, proud of himself for breaking Ryan. Taking Ryan, forcefully, by the arm, "Anytime you want more kid, you just come and get it."

Dawn was pacing wildly again in the visiting room. She hated places like this. Between her two sons, her husband and her poor selection of boyfriends, she'd seen the inside of one too many jails. She hoped to get this over quickly. It felt like days had passed since she'd been waiting for them to bring her son in. When the door finally opened, she held her breath as they brought him in. She knew right away that something had happened. His face was flushed and his bangs were damp with perspiration.

"Keep the cuffs on this one during the visit, he's been a bad boy this morning," Diaz instructed. "I'll be right outside, if he acts up, let me know." Getting in Ryan's face, "Behave in here…or else."

Ryan could only crane his neck away from the guard. If he was pissed off before about having to see his Mom, now he was at biblical proportions where anger was concerned.

"Ryan…honey…"

Feeling his stomach lurch and the hair on his neck stand up, he turned his head away from her.

Dawn looked to the room guard for assistance. "Can he have a cigarette?"

"His hands have to remain cuffed," the guard reminded her.

"I know. I'll, um…I'll help him."

When the guard nodded his approval, she looked back to her son. "Ryan, honey, did you want a smoke?"

Nauseated at the idea of letting his Mom help him with anything right now, Ryan struggled with his decision. He wanted a cigarette worse than anything right now and finally he caved in and nodded.

Reaching for her pack on the table she put the stick in his mouth and held the lighter up to him with trembling hands. Leaning into the flame he puffed away and waited for the soothing side effects to kick in.

With her nerves consuming her, Dawn lit up as well. When she turned back to her son, she noticed he was watching her. She couldn't quite make out the expression on his face. It was a cross between anger, intolerance and distrust.

"Um, honey, I was wondering if…if you were ready to come home. Would you like to go home?"

Ryan stared, unwavering, at his Mom, his cheeks indenting as he inhaled more smoke. After he exhaled, he shook his head slowly, carefully watching her.

Surprised by his answer, "You…you mean you don't want to come home? Why?"

Ryan tipped his head in disgust and frowned at her as if to say, 'do you really need to ask that?'

Realizing that her son still hadn't said a single word since he entered the room she hoped changing the subject would start him talking.

"So…the other guard, he said you were bad this morning. Were you talking back or something?"

Ryan shook his head again, "No. I punched him in the face."

Not only did he get Dawn's attention, but his explanation got the attention of the room guard as well.

"You punched him?" Turning away from her son, she took a seat at the table to process what he'd just said. "You did this on purpose. You did it so you could stay here," Dawn revealed out loud, barely able to grasp the words coming out of her own mouth. "You really don't want to come home with me…do you?"

Ryan shook his head again.

Dawn chuckled a nervous laugh and stood up with her hand over her mouth. "You can't do that. You can't…can he do that?" she asked the room guard with mounting frustration. "You think you're so smart, Ryan? You'll see. Who do I talk to about getting him released?"

"You'll have to meet with one of the coordinators Ma'am," the guard explained.

"Then get me a coordinator," she demanded.

"Can I go back to my cell?" Ryan interjected in the middle of his Mother's rage. "I really don't want to watch her work out the details of pretending to care when I know she doesn't." Stepping backwards, Ryan kicked at the door causing Diaz to appear in the room.

"What's the problem in here?"

"No problem, I'm just ready to go back to my cell," Ryan explained.

"That's nice. Unfortunately, you don't get to decide that…they do."

Dejected, Ryan rolled his head away from the guard and stared at the ground.

"Ryan, please, think about what you're doing," his Mother begged.

Returning his gaze to the Diaz, "Look, I'm sorry I hit you. Can I please go back to my cell?"

"Now you want me to believe you're a nice guy? I don't think so."

"I hit you so I'd have to stay. I don't want to go home with her. I don't want to have anything to do with her," Ryan confessed.

Diaz searched Ryan's face for the truth behind that statement, and he believed Ryan was indeed telling the truth. "I'll allow you time in the cell while I sort this out." Diaz consented. "But if you give me any shit when I come back to get you…"

"I won't."

Dawn was on the verge of exploding. "Ryan, if you walk out that door, we're through. You'll be on your own as far as I'm concerned."

Pulling his eyes away from Diaz, Ryan turned to face his Mom. "I've been on my own for a long time, you just never noticed." Ryan stared at her a moment longer before turned back to Diaz, let his cigarette fall on the floor and snuffed it out with his boot.

"Fine," Dawn finally spat out angrily. "If that's the way you feel, then go. Be like your brother and just leave. I don't want you any more either."

Ryan cracked his lips apart in an attempt to get more air into his lungs. When that didn't help, he swallowed hard and let his eyes dart back and forth across Diaz's uniform. The guard could see she had gotten to Ryan. It was one thing to be neglected, it was another to be told you aren't wanted anymore. The guard now understood why the kid acted out in his cell and he couldn't necessarily say he blamed the kid.

"Let's go kid, your supposed to be in the mess hall right now." Diaz shot a scolding look at Dawn before he opened the door and led Ryan out of the room.

After the door had closed and her son had been hauled off, again, Dawn sat down again, bewildered. She was still trying to make sense of it all when the coordinator entered.

"Mrs. Atwood, my name is Thomas Wade, I'm Ryan's coordinator here at the center." Extending his hand, which went unaccepted, he took a seat across the table from Dawn. "Now, I'll be quite frank with you Mrs. Atwood, Ryan is a rather…unusual case. We don't get many boys that are hoping to stay in Juvie. Most will do anything necessary to get out. Now I've talked with an…officer…McGhee. Tommy McGhee of the Chino P.D. and he's given me the details on Ryan's case. Now, while they can't tie Ryan directly to any stolen cars, he did have tools on him. Based on his history, Officer McGhee is confident he did steal a car and they just can't link him to it or he was intending on stealing a car and hadn't done it yet. Either way, by merely having the tools on him is a violation of his probation, granted it's a minor violation, it's still a violation."

"So throw his little ass in jail! He doesn't want to come home with me, he's made that perfectly damn clear," Dawn complained, extending her tantrum.

"Well, see, that's where we have a new problem," the coordinator explained.

"A problem?" Dawn grumbled, irritated.

"As I explained, Mrs. Atwood, since the violation is minor, it wouldn't necessarily require jail time, especially since the facility is so crowded with much more serious offenders. However, since Ryan punched one of our guards this morning, he's looking at two weeks in Juvie unless someone is willing to sign him out and be responsible for him."

Dawn sat in her seat and snorted a laugh before leaning on the table. "So basically you're telling me that…even though it 'appears' he stole a car, or wanted to, and even though he doesn't want to come home and right now I'm so pissed at him, I don't want him to come home…now you're telling me I have no choice but to sign him out because you're facility is too crowded with worse offenders?"

"Basically…yes."

"Pffft!" Shaking her head Dawn stood up and threw her purse strap over her shoulder. "Mr. Wade, I suggest you find somewhere to put him, I don't care if it's under a table in the cafeteria. He doesn't want me and I no longer want him. Obviously I wasn't meant to be Mother-material. I'm going to go home and get drunk and celebrate my freedom from motherhood. Do whatever you want with him."

"Mrs. Atwood, he's your son."

"Not anymore he's not. He's your problem now." With the sarcastic wave of her fingers she left the room leaving the guard and the coordinator to look at each other and shake their heads.

Ryan sat alone in the crowded mess hall. His emotions running in a thousand different directions and none of them were toward the lunch line. He was angry, no, he was enraged with his Mom. How dare she turn the tables and walk out on him…in the middle of him taking a stand against her? How dare she! After everything he'd been through with her, how many times he'd helped her pick up the pieces of her life, only to have to do it again the next day…and the day after that…and the day after that, again and again. How dare she make this about him? Ryan would never tell anyone this but, there was a part of him that was hurt, even scared now. Now the future was crystal clear, he had to leave Chino whether he wanted to or not. There was no other option. He'd show her. He'd make it on his own, some how, some way. He'd make her regret her words. He'd make her regret everything she'd ever done to him.

"Hey, why aren't you eating?"

Ryan's mind was jarred back to the noisy lunchroom by Diaz's voice. Cocking his head to one side, he kept his eyes down and stared at his hands that were folded on the table. He was never one for talking about things that bothered him and he sure as hell wasn't going to do it with one of the Juvie guards.

"Was she always like this? Your Mom I mean?"

Ryan ignored the question. Instead he chewed on the inside of his lip hoping Diaz would get the point and stop asking questions.

Nodding at nothing, Diaz tapped the tabletop. "You know kid, sometimes all you can do is take the cards you've been dealt and find a way to make your life out of them. You've got ten more minutes kid, get something to eat."

Ryan's brain flip-flopped back to his brother as Diaz walked away. Trey hadn't even crossed Ryan's mind until the guard reiterated, in not so many words, the same advice his brother had given him. 'You have to make your own life.' Ryan was suddenly concerned about Trey. He wondered if he'd been picked up in the sting or if he'd gotten away. Since he was nineteen, if Trey was caught, he'd be in the regular jail since he's not longer considered a juvenile. Ryan would have a to figure out a way to find out about his brother. In the meantime, he became aware of Diaz approaching him again and conveniently, there were now four other guards in rather close proximity to Ryan. Suddenly, he felt a cause for concern and he looked at Diaz questionably.

"Just a little added preparation incase you go nuts again, Atwood," Diaz explained.

"And why would I go nuts? You bringing my Mom in here or something?"

"Cute. No, you've got a meeting with your attorney regarding your probation violation."

Rolling his eyes, Ryan pushed up off the table and stood up. Noticing Diaz had his hand on his baton, Ryan immediately turned around to cuff up.

"Good boy. You learn fast Atwood. Let's go."

In the privacy of a counseling room, Ryan was seated at a table and freed from his handcuffs. He'd been cuffed so many times in the past twenty-four hours that he was beginning to get raw marks around his wrists. He sat quietly drumming his fingers on the table, impatiently waiting for the next adult to come along and make his life difficult. Just when he was about to give up and go back to his cell, the door opened.

"Ryan, hey, Sandy Cohen. Sorry to keep you waiting, security was extra picky today. You'd think I was trying to get a rocket launcher in here."

Ryan didn't smile at the joke. He wasn't amused. He just wanted this over with.

"So let's see, we've got some interesting things going on here if I understand things correctly. You've been caught in the past, tinkering, we'll call it, with cars but you've never been caught actually stealing one. You're currently linked to a possible stolen car as well as an organized contract. Is that true?"

"No."

"No?"

"I said no."

Sandy paused and reread his notes and flipped through Ryan's Juvenile file. "Maybe you'd like to give me your version of all of this?"

"What for?"

"So I can get you out of here. You'll be in front of the judge in less than two hours."

"Which Judge?"

"Judge Whitney."

"Fuck," Ryan mumbled under his breath. She was wicked and had a reputation for putting kids in Juvie through the mill.

"Ryan, I want to help, I really do. But you gotta meet me half way. We don't have to talk about anything else if you don't want to but, we gotta cover some of this if you want to go home tonight."

"And…what if I don't want to go home?"

Sandy stopped shuffling papers long enough to give Ryan a dazed and confused look. "Surely you want to get out of here, right?" Sandy chuckled.

Sighing deeply, "No, not necessarily."

If nothing else got accomplished today, Sandy was determined to get to the bottom of this. "Ryan, talk to me."

"It's pretty black and white actually. I told my Mom I don't want anything to do with her anymore and she…she told me she was done with me too." Ryan licked his lips nervously as he mentally recounted what was said. "So you see Mr. Cohen, there's no where for me to go so I may as well stay here for now."

"I'm told you hit a guard this morning, is that true?"

Ryan nodded.

Sandy sighed and shook his head. "Ryan, I can't leave you here. For starter's your violation is small and it doesn't require serving any time so…"

"So you're saying Juvie doesn't want me either?"

Hesitating, "No son, they don't."

Huffing a laugh, Ryan shook his head yet again and kept his eyes down to avoid Sandy seeing the desire for tears building. He couldn't even get into trouble the right way.

"On that note son, we have to work out something otherwise you'll go into foster care."

"Can't I go live with my brother?" Ryan asked hopefully.

"Your brother is…Trey. Trey, at nineteen, has a rather colorful past, not to mention an impressive criminal record, Ryan. The court is never going to grant him custody."

"Of course not. The court would rather put me in foster care. I'm only going to take off once I'm on the outside anyway. I guess it doesn't matter."

"The idea is not to get you out so you can take off Ryan. You need someone to look after you."

"No I don't!" Ryan snapped back in a snotty tone. "What? You wanna take care of me?" Ryan challenged. "You think you can handle me? I've been through things you can't even imagine."

"That's probably true Ryan. But sooner or later someone's gotta give you a break, cut you some slack. If you want my help, I've got your back. If you want me gone…I can be on my way out that door in thirty seconds. You're a tough guy, I'm sure you could handle all of this on your own, question is, do you want to?"

"Why are you doing this to me?'

Sandy was taken aback by the boy's comment. "Doing what?"

"Trying to give me hope. Hope is a dangerous thing Mr. Cohen."

Sandy and Ryan locked eyes with each other, testing each other.

"And here I thought guys like you liked danger. It's your choice Ryan. I'm going to step out into the hall and get some coffee."

Ryan sat at the table with no retort. He didn't know what to say. After Mr. Cohen passed through the door, Ryan glanced at his file laid out on the table. His Mom had thrown him out, now Juvie was trying to get rid of him, he wouldn't be allowed to stay with Trey, if Trey was even still on the street right now, and here was this guy acting like a superhero, come to 'save the day' so to speak. Ryan thought back on his words about leaving Chino and wondered if this little confrontation was supposed to be the vehicle that got him out. Maybe it was.

"Alright," Sandy mumbled, reentering the room. "I could definitely use this right now. I wasn't sure how you felt about coffee but you look like a straight up sort of guy so I got you a cup of black." Placing the steaming cup down in front of Ryan, Sandy regarded him as he sat down before sipping from his own steaming cup.

Ryan leaned forward and cupped his hands around the warm Styrofoam cup. Raising he head slowly he narrowed his eyes on Sandy. "You wanna talk?…Let's talk…"

TBC…

One lonely little chapter left to wrap up a few loose ends!