“Come with me.”
“Where are you taking him?” Preacher asked.
The man looked at Preacher like he was an idiot. “To the visitor’s room.”
“The prisoner will be behind glass, right?”
“No, but he’ll be shackled to the table. There will be an officer present just outside the room.”
“That’s not sufficient—”
“It’s fine. I’ll be fine.” Memphis said, cutting Preacher off before looking at the officer with a firm nod. “It’s fine.”
Memphis tried to give Preacher a reassuring smile as he handed him his phone and wallet, but it died halfway at his tightly drawn face. Memphis forced himself to take a deep breath and let it out, following the officer to a room where he was thoroughly patted down.
Without Preacher, even breathing felt a bit like torture. Memphis’s chest was tight, his stomach sloshing with nerves. He wasn’t even into the actual prison yet, just the intake area. He could do this. He had to do this. He’d come this far. Even now, his father wielded far too much power over him. That ended today. No matter what happened, Memphis was tired of letting Tennessee Camden live in his head rent free.
Memphis meant it, every word, but when the first heavy iron door slammed behind him, Memphis started to pray. He just needed to get through it. That was all he asked. The eggshell paint of the lobby was nothing compared to the dreary, almost gray color of the interior hallway. The concrete beneath his feet looked like it was hosed down on the regular, if the drains in the floor were any indication, but there were still brown stains here and there. Was it rust or something worse?
The place was nothing like he expected. There were iron stairwells and iron doors, but nothing like he’d seen in movies. No barred cells of raging inmates screaming and spitting and catcalling like inSilence of the Lambs. This wasn’t a horror movie, it was a psychological thriller, ratcheting up the tension the farther they proceeded into the building. The place was just…depressing, like the world’s worst dormitory. But despite all of that, it didn’t seem like it was enough to hold his father.
He’d hoped for some damp basement type dwelling where his food was shoved through a slot at the bottom of the door and his father never saw the light of day. This looked like a vacation for somebody like Tennessee. Far nicer than he deserved.
Memphis’s stomach rolled, gurgling loud enough for the officer to give him a look. He’d been too nervous to eat that morning and, now, he was grateful for that. If his stomach had been full, he might have puked. It was too quiet, just him and the large officer and the sound of their boots echoing on the floor as they walked.
When the guard spoke, words echoing, Memphis jumped. “No touching the inmate, no attempting to pass anything to the inmate. As previously stated, the inmate will be handcuffed. We have the right to stop the visit at any time. If you hear a siren or there is a lockdown warning, you are to stay where you are until you are retrieved. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
Memphis felt like he could barely draw a breath. Maybe Preacher had been right along. Maybe this was a terrible idea. Tennessee had nothing to lose. If he somehow got his hands on him, he could kill him before a guard could intervene and there was nothing they could do to him. He was already looking at twenty-five to life and that was only in Arizona.
Inside the visitor’s room were several tables each bolted to the floor, but they were all empty. The guard led Memphis to the largest one in the middle, closest to another floor drain. Memphis’s heart tripped. Maybe it was to hose off all the blood when things went bad.
“Have a seat.”
Memphis did as he was told, the cool metal bleeding through his jeans and through his body until his bones felt cold and his skin felt hot and everything became sort of hazy and surreal, like he was in a dream. The man spoke into his radio as he walked to the corner of the room, but then there was just silence. Once more, Memphis’s leg began to jitter beneath the table, his heartbeat jackrabbit fast. He was going to pass out before he ever even saw his father.
Then a door at the opposite end of the room opened, creaking in a way that dragged across Memphis’s raw and frazzled nerves like a violin’s bow. Memphis had imagined his father as he was ten years ago, this large looming figure, a man who took up entire doorways, who could send Memphis flying with the slightest shove. But the figure who emerged through the now open door didn’t seem nearly as imposing.
Tennessee was still large, practically ducking to get through the door, but the shackles on his hands and feet caused him to shuffle, his shoulders slumped, head down, giving Memphis a bird’s eye view of his now thinning hair. That didn’t quell the storm raging inside Memphis’s insides, didn’t quiet the voice in his head screamingdangerandrun. But it did make him realize that Tennessee, for better or worse, was just a man. Not some villainous supernatural creature like Memphis had made up in his head.
When Tennessee finally raised his head, his look of surprise was almost enough to make Memphis feel better, but then a sneer cut across his face and he started to laugh. Memphis had endured countless nightmares with that laugh as the soundtrack, but, still, he refused to let his father see how terrified he was.
Once the man was secured to the table, a mere three feet from Memphis, he tilted his head. “Well, lookie, lookie here. I didn’t think you had it in you, boy.”
Tennessee’s southern twang hadn’t softened. If anything, it seemed stronger. Maybe he thought it made him seem tougher.
“I didn’t think you thought of me at all,” Memphis said, relieved at the casual disinterest in his tone.
Tennessee scoffed. “I’ll be honest, boy. I thought you might be dead—one of those gay diseases—until you decided to show up and stick your nose in my business.”
“Your business? The business that involved you chaining my baby brother to a wall and leaving him half starved to death? That business?” Memphis asked.
Tennessee sniffed, chains rattling as he shifted, leaning close. “I didn’t do shit to that little brat. That was your brother. But he was right to do it. Boy’s gotta learn to show respect. Follow orders. He needs to learn that when you stick your nose where it don’t belong, it’s gonna get chopped off. We just gave him a little time to think about what he’d done.”
“For years, you tried toteachme, years of physical pain and psychological torture until I could barely stand the idea of going home.” Tennessee rolled his eyes at Memphis’s words, but he didn’t stop. He needed to say this. “I thought you were some mythological monster, and you are a monster, but you’re also just a man. A sad, pathetic old man who took out his frustrations on his kids and who’s now going to spend the rest of his life in prison.”
A smirk spread across his father’s face. “From what I hear, it’s you who should be worrying about how you’ll be spending your final days, not me. Perhaps you should spend less time in my business and more time getting your own house in order. Death tends to sneak up on us all, especially when we ain’t looking.”
