r.kv.r.y. quarterly literary journal winter 2008 fiction
The Graveyard Shift by Carolyn Harris
page two
The Graveyard Shift by Carolyn Harris
page two
Mrs. Manley didn’t like to talk about Sara at first. I think she was
afraid maybe I’d be upset, but I told her it made me feel good that
somebody was happy. I wanted to know what classes she was taking.
Sara’s in her third year of Spanish. I don’t know about that one. I know
how to say taco and burrito. They don’t have Spanish in the schools I go
to, but I get A’s when I go. In lockdown, that’s part of my punishment–I
don’t get to go to school. Last time I talked to Mrs. Manley she told me I
ought to zip up my lip, get out of lockdown, and get back in school. I
know she’s right, but I need to stay here to help Jay out for a while.
I can pull inside my mind and pretend I’m Sara. You know, I think that’
s a better name than DS. If Mrs. Manley doesn’t work tonight, I think I’ll
pretend I’m Sara. “Yes, Ma’am. Would you like to see our new sale
item? We have it in red, too.” Then I’ll slip my fingers through the fancy
clothes on the sales rack and find a red strapless gown–no I have one
of those. Maybe blue to match my eyes. Are my eyes blue? I better find
out.
Jay still has them fooled. Dr. Drug told them to give him another shot
tomorrow. Dr. Drug’s the staff’s name for him, not mine. I heard
Graveyard complain about him. He has half of us on the same meds–
when he shows up. Last time I saw him, he never looked up to see if it
was me. Just kept writing. He asked my name, I told him, and he said,
“Thank you, that’s all.” I told him I didn’t think I needed so much Xanax
anymore. I certainly wasn’t nervous. I slept all the time. He didn’t even
look up. He must have read in my file that my name is Dog Shit and was
afraid he might get some of me on him. I don’t like all the meds they
give me. I wonder sometimes if they’re part of the reason my mind
wanders. I tried cheeking them, but lost points and missed movie and
treats for a week. I want to get out of lockdown as soon as Jay’s okay,
so I better take my meds. They’re talking about Dr. Drug again. He called
in and renewed everybody’s prescription over the phone. Even the two
kids that left yesterday for Boot Camp.
Last night, the Chippies brought in three bookings-- all guys from
Sacramento. Sara lives in Sacramento. I kept watching the tall dark-
haired one. I’m not sure what Sara’s boyfriend looks like. I forgot to ask
about that one, too. I almost had myself believing it might be him. Then I
convinced myself Sara’s boyfriend was probably too smart to get caught
by the CHP in a stolen car. He might be Spanish-looking though, since
she’s so interested in Spanish.
Before breakfast, Jay came by for his hour out. He shuffled by my
room in cuffs and shackles and that paper Barney gown. He looked at
me like one of those wild men you see in the movies–a crazy preacher in
the old west. He scared me. Now I know why he wouldn’t talk to me in
the toilet last night. I think they made him crazy. The last three days
they’ve given him shots so he won’t see things. I need to tell him to stop
acting crazy before they make him crazy. When he came back he
wouldn’t look at me. I saw his ass hanging out of the Barney gown. I
turned away so I wouldn’t embarrass him.
After breakfast I called him through the toilet. He said, “I don’t want
to talk. I have a headache.” I told him to please stop pretending to be
crazy. He said, “I’ll try.”
Before lunch, just before the kids came back from school, Boss Lady
came in and talked to him. Even with my ear on the wall I couldn’t
hear.
When Boss Lady left, I called Jay until staff came and told me to get
my head out of the toilet or they’d take my bedding. Day staff watches
the monitor in the control room a lot more. Jay got his mattress and
pillow back so he must have told Boss Lady he’d stop acting crazy. His
Parole Officer came in and talked to him. He was in there a long time
and I started worrying. Maybe he was gonna go to Boot Camp–or a
mental hospital. My mom was in one of those for a while and she said it
wasn’t any fun–people always screaming and hollering.
It’s pretty quiet here. Except when the Indians come in drunk and
start yelling, “ENP”–eternal native pride. They’re worse than
cheerleaders. Cheerleaders just jump around and stand on each other’s
backs. The Indians–Jay’s one of the noisiest–yell “ENP” and kick the
doors and bang their fists.
I went to a basketball game once. It’s worse than that. I told you we
have metal doors–so heavy you have to watch your feet. When they kick
those doors and yell, it makes me nervous. That’s when I’m glad I’m
taking meds. I saw a movie about Custer once. Custer would have
headed home in a hurry if he’d heard them kicking those metal doors
and yelling. The racket goes on for a while then out comes the pepper
spray. Poor Mr. Roberts got caught in the middle of the last one. Boss
Lady missed and sprayed him again–right in the face.
Jay’s calling me in the toilet. He says the PO says he’s gonna go to
Youth Authority. I guess he knows I’m crying. He tells me to keep quiet
and start kissing ass so I can get out of lockdown. He’s glad he’s gonna
go. He’ll get to see his brothers. I want to talk, but he says his head
really hurts. He cheeked his morning meds so he can figure things out.
He’s not gonna tell them even if he does see things because he doesn’t
want another shot in the ass.
I got a good on my day shift score and Jay got his clothes back. I
heard them talking about me at shift change. If I get goods for the next
three days, I can get back in school. Maybe I can get one of the teachers
to find me a Spanish book.
Today’s Wednesday. I wonder if Sara’s working after school today. I
thought about writing her a letter, but it’s against the rules. No contact
between staff and the dog shits–or staff’s granddaughters and the dog
shits.
I have DS on my left arm. I did it two years ago with a staple and a
ball point pen. I lost points and missed a few movies for that one, too.
I’m working on ENP now–on my left leg so staff won’t find it. If I get
down in the corner under the camera they can’t see me. I have a staple
hidden in my mattress. Staff hasn’t found it. We had a room search this
morning. I hate that. They tear up my bed and poke down in the wire
screen where we used to have a window. I’m a very neat person. I
always line my pillow case up along the seam of the blanket. I can’t get
a pen till I get back in school, but if I keep the scab off, I’ll have the EN
part finished by next week.
Smells like rolls for dinner–and macaroni and cheese. I wonder how
Maggi’s doing. Her kids are probably all in school now, so she won’t
need a foster. Mrs. Manley and Mr. Roberts are working graveyard. I’m
gonna sleep a little after dinner so I’ll be awake.
Jay says he’s doing okay. He liked the macaroni and cheese. His
mother’s a rotten cook–burns everything. Mine never burns anything–
she never cooks. I told him to make sure and wake me up when he got
his bedtime meds so I’m awake for graveyard.
I can’t sleep. We had yogurt for snack–strawberry. I’m gonna find out
what color Sara’s eyes are. When I get out of lockdown I can have hand
lotion once a day. I’m gonna start rubbing some on my face–and let my
hair grow.
Jay’s calling me. They gave him a blanket. I told him he’d probably
have the rest of his stuff by graveyard. He told me not to worry--he’s
fine. He wants me to have the silver bracelet with the eagle on it he has
in his locker. He can’t take it to YA. I told him I love him. He wouldn’t say
he loves me. I think it’s just hard for him to say it. Giving me a bracelet is
just as good.
I haven’t seen Mrs. Manley, but Mr. Roberts came by to see if I was
okay. I told him I needed to talk to her and he thought I needed pads
and was too embarrassed to ask him.
Mrs. Manley brought me some pads and asked if I was okay since
I’d been bleeding last week, too. Not much gets by her. If Sara’s
mother’s like her, that’s why she’s so sure Sara doesn’t do drugs. I told
her I wanted to get out of lockdown and back in school so maybe I could
go to college. That really just popped in my mind, but I knew it was a
sure way to get her back to talk. She’s the kind that thinks everybody
ought to work hard and go to college. I figured I better see if Jay was
still okay, then work on getting my story straight.
Jay finally answered me. He told me to go to sleep. He was tired and
didn’t want to talk. He flushed his toilet in my face.
Mrs. Manley dropped her pillow by my door and we talked. Sara’s
studying for a hard history exam. And her eyes are blue--the same color
as mine. Mrs. Manley checked her watch and got up to do another room
check.
It doesn’t take fifteen minutes to hang yourself. It isn’t noisy either.
We were talking very low through the slot so we wouldn’t wake up Jay.
Neither of us heard anything. Not a bump. Not a gasp.
That was a year ago. I still think about Jay. At first, I blamed
everybody–his mother, his PO, his older brothers in YA. Even me. I
wondered how I could have saved him. I guess I was so busy trying to
figure out how to save me, I didn’t have all that much time for Jay’s
problems. The other day I found a crow feather in our back yard. Jay told
me crows take good care of their families. Maybe he’s a crow now.
I wore that silver bracelet for a long time. I’d run my finger over the
eagle wings and picture him flying through the clouds with that funny
little grin he had when he was happy. Did I tell you he was a real funny
person when he wasn’t all doped up? Last week, I tucked the bracelet
away in the backpack in the bottom of my closet. Yes. I have a closet
again. And a bed that isn’t a cement slab. I’m with another foster. My
foster mom, Andi, is a recovering alcoholic. We spend a lot of time at
meetings. And I still have Bambi. A real one this time. He comes into our
backyard each morning while I’m eating breakfast and waits for his
snack–he likes apples and carrots best.
Me and Sara e-mail. Mrs. Manley isn’t staff anymore. After Jay died,
she quit. She helped me get this foster placement and she told me she’d
kick my butt if I messed up.
My hair is long now and I had it done up for the prom, but not like
Sara’s. We’re alike in some ways. I have a foster mom who’s a single
parent and sometimes has to work two jobs. We both want to go to
college and we both work. There’s no fancy store here and I couldn’t get
on at JC Penney, but I work at Burger King. And we’re different. Sara
looks down her nose at people who do drugs. I don’t.
I still want to run, but not from Andi. I’d like to run with Bambi and
figure out where he hangs out during the day. Andi says, “Go for it if you
can keep up with him. Just be back for dinner.”
My name is Desiree, the desired one.
afraid maybe I’d be upset, but I told her it made me feel good that
somebody was happy. I wanted to know what classes she was taking.
Sara’s in her third year of Spanish. I don’t know about that one. I know
how to say taco and burrito. They don’t have Spanish in the schools I go
to, but I get A’s when I go. In lockdown, that’s part of my punishment–I
don’t get to go to school. Last time I talked to Mrs. Manley she told me I
ought to zip up my lip, get out of lockdown, and get back in school. I
know she’s right, but I need to stay here to help Jay out for a while.
I can pull inside my mind and pretend I’m Sara. You know, I think that’
s a better name than DS. If Mrs. Manley doesn’t work tonight, I think I’ll
pretend I’m Sara. “Yes, Ma’am. Would you like to see our new sale
item? We have it in red, too.” Then I’ll slip my fingers through the fancy
clothes on the sales rack and find a red strapless gown–no I have one
of those. Maybe blue to match my eyes. Are my eyes blue? I better find
out.
Jay still has them fooled. Dr. Drug told them to give him another shot
tomorrow. Dr. Drug’s the staff’s name for him, not mine. I heard
Graveyard complain about him. He has half of us on the same meds–
when he shows up. Last time I saw him, he never looked up to see if it
was me. Just kept writing. He asked my name, I told him, and he said,
“Thank you, that’s all.” I told him I didn’t think I needed so much Xanax
anymore. I certainly wasn’t nervous. I slept all the time. He didn’t even
look up. He must have read in my file that my name is Dog Shit and was
afraid he might get some of me on him. I don’t like all the meds they
give me. I wonder sometimes if they’re part of the reason my mind
wanders. I tried cheeking them, but lost points and missed movie and
treats for a week. I want to get out of lockdown as soon as Jay’s okay,
so I better take my meds. They’re talking about Dr. Drug again. He called
in and renewed everybody’s prescription over the phone. Even the two
kids that left yesterday for Boot Camp.
Last night, the Chippies brought in three bookings-- all guys from
Sacramento. Sara lives in Sacramento. I kept watching the tall dark-
haired one. I’m not sure what Sara’s boyfriend looks like. I forgot to ask
about that one, too. I almost had myself believing it might be him. Then I
convinced myself Sara’s boyfriend was probably too smart to get caught
by the CHP in a stolen car. He might be Spanish-looking though, since
she’s so interested in Spanish.
Before breakfast, Jay came by for his hour out. He shuffled by my
room in cuffs and shackles and that paper Barney gown. He looked at
me like one of those wild men you see in the movies–a crazy preacher in
the old west. He scared me. Now I know why he wouldn’t talk to me in
the toilet last night. I think they made him crazy. The last three days
they’ve given him shots so he won’t see things. I need to tell him to stop
acting crazy before they make him crazy. When he came back he
wouldn’t look at me. I saw his ass hanging out of the Barney gown. I
turned away so I wouldn’t embarrass him.
After breakfast I called him through the toilet. He said, “I don’t want
to talk. I have a headache.” I told him to please stop pretending to be
crazy. He said, “I’ll try.”
Before lunch, just before the kids came back from school, Boss Lady
came in and talked to him. Even with my ear on the wall I couldn’t
hear.
When Boss Lady left, I called Jay until staff came and told me to get
my head out of the toilet or they’d take my bedding. Day staff watches
the monitor in the control room a lot more. Jay got his mattress and
pillow back so he must have told Boss Lady he’d stop acting crazy. His
Parole Officer came in and talked to him. He was in there a long time
and I started worrying. Maybe he was gonna go to Boot Camp–or a
mental hospital. My mom was in one of those for a while and she said it
wasn’t any fun–people always screaming and hollering.
It’s pretty quiet here. Except when the Indians come in drunk and
start yelling, “ENP”–eternal native pride. They’re worse than
cheerleaders. Cheerleaders just jump around and stand on each other’s
backs. The Indians–Jay’s one of the noisiest–yell “ENP” and kick the
doors and bang their fists.
I went to a basketball game once. It’s worse than that. I told you we
have metal doors–so heavy you have to watch your feet. When they kick
those doors and yell, it makes me nervous. That’s when I’m glad I’m
taking meds. I saw a movie about Custer once. Custer would have
headed home in a hurry if he’d heard them kicking those metal doors
and yelling. The racket goes on for a while then out comes the pepper
spray. Poor Mr. Roberts got caught in the middle of the last one. Boss
Lady missed and sprayed him again–right in the face.
Jay’s calling me in the toilet. He says the PO says he’s gonna go to
Youth Authority. I guess he knows I’m crying. He tells me to keep quiet
and start kissing ass so I can get out of lockdown. He’s glad he’s gonna
go. He’ll get to see his brothers. I want to talk, but he says his head
really hurts. He cheeked his morning meds so he can figure things out.
He’s not gonna tell them even if he does see things because he doesn’t
want another shot in the ass.
I got a good on my day shift score and Jay got his clothes back. I
heard them talking about me at shift change. If I get goods for the next
three days, I can get back in school. Maybe I can get one of the teachers
to find me a Spanish book.
Today’s Wednesday. I wonder if Sara’s working after school today. I
thought about writing her a letter, but it’s against the rules. No contact
between staff and the dog shits–or staff’s granddaughters and the dog
shits.
I have DS on my left arm. I did it two years ago with a staple and a
ball point pen. I lost points and missed a few movies for that one, too.
I’m working on ENP now–on my left leg so staff won’t find it. If I get
down in the corner under the camera they can’t see me. I have a staple
hidden in my mattress. Staff hasn’t found it. We had a room search this
morning. I hate that. They tear up my bed and poke down in the wire
screen where we used to have a window. I’m a very neat person. I
always line my pillow case up along the seam of the blanket. I can’t get
a pen till I get back in school, but if I keep the scab off, I’ll have the EN
part finished by next week.
Smells like rolls for dinner–and macaroni and cheese. I wonder how
Maggi’s doing. Her kids are probably all in school now, so she won’t
need a foster. Mrs. Manley and Mr. Roberts are working graveyard. I’m
gonna sleep a little after dinner so I’ll be awake.
Jay says he’s doing okay. He liked the macaroni and cheese. His
mother’s a rotten cook–burns everything. Mine never burns anything–
she never cooks. I told him to make sure and wake me up when he got
his bedtime meds so I’m awake for graveyard.
I can’t sleep. We had yogurt for snack–strawberry. I’m gonna find out
what color Sara’s eyes are. When I get out of lockdown I can have hand
lotion once a day. I’m gonna start rubbing some on my face–and let my
hair grow.
Jay’s calling me. They gave him a blanket. I told him he’d probably
have the rest of his stuff by graveyard. He told me not to worry--he’s
fine. He wants me to have the silver bracelet with the eagle on it he has
in his locker. He can’t take it to YA. I told him I love him. He wouldn’t say
he loves me. I think it’s just hard for him to say it. Giving me a bracelet is
just as good.
I haven’t seen Mrs. Manley, but Mr. Roberts came by to see if I was
okay. I told him I needed to talk to her and he thought I needed pads
and was too embarrassed to ask him.
Mrs. Manley brought me some pads and asked if I was okay since
I’d been bleeding last week, too. Not much gets by her. If Sara’s
mother’s like her, that’s why she’s so sure Sara doesn’t do drugs. I told
her I wanted to get out of lockdown and back in school so maybe I could
go to college. That really just popped in my mind, but I knew it was a
sure way to get her back to talk. She’s the kind that thinks everybody
ought to work hard and go to college. I figured I better see if Jay was
still okay, then work on getting my story straight.
Jay finally answered me. He told me to go to sleep. He was tired and
didn’t want to talk. He flushed his toilet in my face.
Mrs. Manley dropped her pillow by my door and we talked. Sara’s
studying for a hard history exam. And her eyes are blue--the same color
as mine. Mrs. Manley checked her watch and got up to do another room
check.
It doesn’t take fifteen minutes to hang yourself. It isn’t noisy either.
We were talking very low through the slot so we wouldn’t wake up Jay.
Neither of us heard anything. Not a bump. Not a gasp.
That was a year ago. I still think about Jay. At first, I blamed
everybody–his mother, his PO, his older brothers in YA. Even me. I
wondered how I could have saved him. I guess I was so busy trying to
figure out how to save me, I didn’t have all that much time for Jay’s
problems. The other day I found a crow feather in our back yard. Jay told
me crows take good care of their families. Maybe he’s a crow now.
I wore that silver bracelet for a long time. I’d run my finger over the
eagle wings and picture him flying through the clouds with that funny
little grin he had when he was happy. Did I tell you he was a real funny
person when he wasn’t all doped up? Last week, I tucked the bracelet
away in the backpack in the bottom of my closet. Yes. I have a closet
again. And a bed that isn’t a cement slab. I’m with another foster. My
foster mom, Andi, is a recovering alcoholic. We spend a lot of time at
meetings. And I still have Bambi. A real one this time. He comes into our
backyard each morning while I’m eating breakfast and waits for his
snack–he likes apples and carrots best.
Me and Sara e-mail. Mrs. Manley isn’t staff anymore. After Jay died,
she quit. She helped me get this foster placement and she told me she’d
kick my butt if I messed up.
My hair is long now and I had it done up for the prom, but not like
Sara’s. We’re alike in some ways. I have a foster mom who’s a single
parent and sometimes has to work two jobs. We both want to go to
college and we both work. There’s no fancy store here and I couldn’t get
on at JC Penney, but I work at Burger King. And we’re different. Sara
looks down her nose at people who do drugs. I don’t.
I still want to run, but not from Andi. I’d like to run with Bambi and
figure out where he hangs out during the day. Andi says, “Go for it if you
can keep up with him. Just be back for dinner.”
My name is Desiree, the desired one.
a hug by tamar factor