“Oh, Bernie. I’m not made of money. Just come on.”
Verna was already across the lot. When she reached the door to the building, she turned and yelled, “You kids don’t get over here this minute, I’m taking a belt to the both of you.”
Bernie scrambled out. Did that mean Angel still owed him the bribe? Oh, well, she’d have to worry about that later.
TWO
The Saturday Visit
Verna was signing in at the window when Angel and Bernie pushed open the heavy front door. “Bout time you two showed up,” she said. “Honestly.” The woman on the other side half stood up from her chair to peer down over the sill at them. It made Angel feel like she was standing there in her underwear. Too late, she remembered that she hadn’t brushed her hair. Not that it mattered. It was ugly hair, dirty blond, straight. She’d cut it herself a couple of weeks ago.
Finally, Verna put down the ballpoint and jerked her head at the children. She shoved her shoulder against the inner door, and the three of them crowded through it into the room and toward the metal detector.
“Purses here,” ordered the guard. “All your metal in the tray.” Verna handed over her cracked vinyl bag. Angel took the key from around her neck and dropped it into the plastic basket, hoping Verna wouldn’t ask her why she was wearing it when it wasn’t even a school day, but Verna wasn’t paying attention. She was pushing Bernie through the detector ahead of her while the guard did a thorough search of her purse.
Angel followed. The alarm screamed. “Okay. Just a minute, girly. Empty your pockets.”
“I don’t have any pockets.” Her voice was trembling. “See.”
“Well, you got metal on you somewhere. Go back. Take off your shoes and hand them here.”
The coins in her socks. She’d forgotten about them. She took the socks off, too, and held them out to the guard. He screwed up his face and sniffed. The socks were dirty from when she’d run across the yard. “I got some money in my socks,” she mumbled, hoping Verna wouldn’t hear.
“You what?” the guard asked loudly.
“Money in my socks,” she said miserably.
“Well, get it out and put it in the tray. Jeez. It ain’t as if you people don’t know the drill by now.”
Verna stood on the other side of the detector, squeezing Bernie’s arm and looking like a wasp about ready to sting. As soon as Angel got through the detector, Verna grabbed her arm, never letting go of Bernie’s in the process. She pushed both children ahead of her through the series of metal doors that opened before them and closed after them on the way to the visitors’ room. “Ouch,” said Bernie. “Leave go of me. Ouch.” He swatted at Verna with his free hand, but their mother just tightened her grip until even Angel wanted to squeal out in protest. She was already humiliated enough, walking barefoot down the corridor and now standing just inside the door of the big room with her shoes and socks in her hand. She didn’t need to have everybody see her being dragged by her mother and shoved around like a disobedient cat.
The light in the room was always so bright that she had to blink to keep her eyes from smarting. “Find us someplace to sit, Angel.” Verna let go of Angel’s arm and pushed her forward into the room.
Other families, the ones that had gotten here on time, had already claimed the tables scattered about the room. She squinted, looking for vacant chairs. Mostly she saw people. Maybe fifty, maybe more. It was hard to tell. They were different sizes and colors, but most of them, especially the women, wore the same sad, tired expression. There were guards all around, making sure none of the visitors were passing drugs or anything else illegal to the inmates. You could pick out the inmates pretty quickly. Nearly all of them were young. They looked more angry than sad. It was summer, so most of them had on cheap jeans and T-shirts. The man nearest her had tattoos up and down both of his skinny arms, like he was trying to be a he-man. He turned around and glared at her. She moved on, making her way through the maze of tables surrounded by gray, unhappy people.
At the far corner of the big room she found two chairs and put a shoe with the sock stuffed in it down on each of them. Her mother was checking in with the attendant, but when Verna looked up, Angel waved her over.
Verna was still holding on to Bernie. Angel barely managed to pick up her shoe before Verna plunked him down on one of the chairs. “For chrissake, Angel, put on your stupid shoes.” She handed Angel the other offending shoe and sock, then sat down herself.
Angel backed over to the wall and slid down to the floor. She was about to pull on her first sock, the change jangling away, when she realized she was being stared at. She looked up into the face of a little boy who, standing up, was just a little taller than she was sitting down.
“You ain’t got no socks on,” he said solemnly.
“And you got a great big boogie hanging out your nose!” she said fiercely.
His eyes widened in fright.
“Boo!” she said right into his face. His mouth twisted, but before he could begin to cry she whispered, “And don’t you dare cry! Or I’ll get you good!”
He turned and fled.
She should have been ashamed. If anyone had tried to scare Bernie in that room, she would have gone after him. But she couldn’t help it, she was grinning like a jack-o’-lantern as she finished tying her laces. She stood up, but she stayed against the wall until the guard brought Wayne in and led him over to where Verna and Bernie were sitting. Then she made herself join them.
She’d always thought of her daddy as tall and sort of handsome, but today he seemed shorter than she remembered. Or maybe she was getting taller. Wayne was wearing his long-sleeved plaid shirt. He had tattoos to show off, if he wanted, but once she had asked him about the needle tracks and he’d never worn a T-shirt or anything short-sleeved since. “Hi, Daddy,” she said.
“Well, there’s my angel girl,” he said, smiling at her. There was something wrong about his smile. Angel couldn’t figure it out, except that the smile didn’t come from the inside. It was more like someone just twisted up his lips from outside. “You doing good at school?” he asked.
“School’s been out for weeks, Wayne. You know that,” Verna snapped.