Page 13 of Homebound
By the time Gemma and Ruby made it to the chow hall to get their own gruel for lunch, Gemma should have been ravenous, but strangely, she didn’t feel hungry. Her thoughts kept straying to the dark cell and white tangled hair. Ruby had left his bowl with him. Was he eating now? Or was a simple arm movement to pick up the spoon beyond what his failing body could accomplish?
The lumpy gruel stuck in her throat, feeling dry despite being watered down as usual. She couldn’t fathom why Simon’s condition upset her so. Maybe the creature was simply old, at the end of his natural lifespan, and nothing could be done to rejuvenate that what had declined normally with age.
Maybe…
She was trying to convince herself, to let go of her preoccupation, and it wasn’t working.
Simon was wasting away alone, in the dark, unfed and unwashed, denied basic dignity, and with no one to show him compassion.
With the last bite of her lunch, Gemma arrived at a decision.
Chapter 4
Yard time was by far the highlight of the prison life. It was doubly precious to the alien residents of the third floor who were confined to their solo cells for twenty-three hours a day. Twenty-four if the weather refused to cooperate.
Today the weather held, and two armed guards arrived to supervise Gemma, Ruby, and Arlo as they unlocked the cells and lined the prisoners up in a single file to go to the courtyard. Despite the biting cold outside, no one asked to stay in. Even the Birdies cautiously stepped out, holding hands and peeking at the guards with their peculiar eyes. Macho Perali stretched their backward bent legs and flexed their overlong muscular arms. The hulking Obu mooed like a happy cow, shaking his entire body.
They went down the stairs eagerly.
Little Green Man wasn’t invited - the dude didn’t play nicely with others, and no guard wanted to take responsibility for his behavior. There was also fear that someone from the inmate population would squish him accidentally-on-purpose given a chance.
Another inmate left behind in his cell was Simon.
Once the floor emptied out, Gemma took the stairs down to the lobby. She approached the supply storage where a sour-looking woman signed janitorial buckets in and out like they were crown jewels in danger of intergalactic theft.
Gemma cleared her throat. “May I please have one? One of the newer ones?”
“You don’t get to choose,” the keeper of the buckets replied haughtily.
“I understand. But no one is using any right now, so I was hoping you’d be so kind…”
Mollified by Gemma’s deference, the woman issued her a newer, cleaner bucket on casters that didn’t squeak.
“Thank you.” Gemma made a show of going, stopping, touching her hair, and making an Oh-no face.
“What’s wrong with you?” The woman, who was watching her attentively for the lack of anything else to watch, asked around the finger busily picking her teeth.
“I lost my hair tie! It must’ve happened in the shower after we cleaned up the fifth floor. Yes, definitely in the shower.”
The woman’s eyes gleamed in unkind amusement. “I heard it was nasty.”
Gemma wrinkled her nose. “It absolutely was.” She humored the woman by sharing some of the more disgusting details. “Can I go back to the washroom to look for my hair tie?”
Now the woman got worried. “I’m not supposed to unlock it. But I guess…”
Clearly acting against her own good judgment but feeling compassionate toward someone who spent all morning wiping shit with her bare hands, the woman rose and led Gemma to the washroom.
“Be quick about it.”
Gemma slunk into the washroom and looked into the corner by the drain. There it was, a sliver of soap she’d noticed earlier. Snatching it, she tucked the slippery chip into the waistband of her pants. Arranging her face into a crestfallen expression, she exited the washroom.
“It’s not there. How disappointing.”
The woman shrugged. “Someone must’ve already found it. Finders keepers.”
“Thank you for letting me in to look.”
She grabbed her rolling bucket and tugged it along. Next, she had to get warm water.
