On the Run by Marilyn Anne Holman

Author:Marilyn Anne Holman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: James Lorimer and Company Ltd., Publishers
Published: 2019-01-28T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13 Inside Looking Out

The brakes of the van ground to a halt in the off-loading bay. A guard approached as Ryan stepped out. He looked up and saw the cold stare of a guard named Mr. Abbot.

Ryan remembered the last time he was in juvie. He’d tangled with a bully, and Mr. Abbot had tried to break up the fight. Ryan had told Mr. Abbot to screw off. It didn’t go over well. The fight had caused a lockdown and landed Ryan in solitary.

“You’re back again, Mr. Jenkins,” said Mr. Abbot. His breath smelled of tobacco. “Face the wall; you know the drill.”

Ryan stretched his arms up, placed his hands on the cold concrete, and spread his legs.

“Just couldn’t get enough of this place?” said Mr. Abbot, as he patted Ryan down.

Ryan kept his eyes straight ahead and his mouth shut. He tried to focus on the grooves in the pale-yellow concrete bricks.

“I thought you’d be back. You like it here.”

Ryan’s body tensed. “I hadn’t expected to be back here, sir.”

“Well, it won’t be for long. You’ll be in the adult prison before you know it, Mr. Jenkins.”

Mr. Abbot spit out the “Mr. Jenkins” like he was spitting out an orange seed. The sound pinged in Ryan’s mind.

Ryan took a slow breath and his shoulders relaxed.

“Done. Now turn around.” Ryan saw Mr. Abbot’s right eye twitch. His right foot tapped the cement floor.

“Think it won’t happen — you landing in adult prison?”

“No, sir.”

“Dream on,” said Mr. Abbot.

“Mr. Chen will check you in.” Mr. Abbot nodded toward a guard Ryan didn’t recognize. Probably a newbie. The guy looked like he was in his late twenties. Like the rest of the guards, he wore a dark-blue uniform and light-blue shirt.

“Mr. Jenkins knows the drill. He’s a regular here.” Mr. Abbot moved to a large desk that looked like a reception desk at a hotel. He picked up a clipboard and started writing.

“I’ll get your sweats,” said Mr. Chen. “First, let’s check in your duffel bag.” He had a soft voice for a guard. He looked friendly. But you never know, Ryan thought.

Ryan followed Mr. Chen to the desk Mr. Abbot was at. He placed his duffel on its shiny top.

Mr. Chen’s black-rimmed glasses slipped down his nose as he rummaged through the bag. Ryan knew what he’d find: a torn winter jacket, too short in the sleeves; a green toque; one pair of jeans with holes; a picture of his sister; a cheap watch; some money he had saved; and a Go Canucks sweatshirt he’d bought at the thrift store.

“Do you have a phone? If so, it has to stay in storage.”

“Don’t have one, sir.”

“I had to ask, even though most teens here can’t afford one,” said Mr. Chen. He continued itemizing the clothes, watch, and picture.

“Is that it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’ve got less than most of the kids, which isn’t a lot.” Mr. Chen shook his head. “You’ll get your things back when you leave juvie. They’ll send you home by bus. Stay out of trouble when you’re out, and you won’t see this place again.

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