Chapter 16 – there's someone collecting the sacrificial offerings.”

Fisher’s in The Bunker.

Mario’s in my advanced math class.

I’m in shock.

Nothing in this place makes sense. Not the baby. Not the attack. Not the walking around like everything’s normal. I find myself studying the short Latino for answers. The guy walks around the place bouncing his head to silent beats with or without his headphones. It takes me a couple days to realize the necklace Mario wears is one of Nanny Bella’s Catholic saints. I spotted it the first day, but didn’t connect the dots until after he saved me.

I’m normally the most confident person in the world. But hard as I try, I can’t find the right moment to say thank you. That’s how I find myself standing in front of The Chapel on Thursday. Although I promised myself I’d never enter it. I know Mario goes regularly. I have to stop being lame and just tell him thanks. It’s been three days since he got zapped for me. It sounds trivial, even to my own mind. But something inside of me changed that day and Mario deserves to know it.

I find myself following a couple inmates up one of the narrow paths. I get as close as the glass entrance but don’t go in. I haven’t spoken to Uncle John since the call. But his comment about a visitor comes to mind. Of course no one is going to visit a place like this over and over again, especially when someone doesn’t show up for close to a month. I can only hope that I don’t have to interrupt Mario’s visitor time.

I’ll just make it quick and leave him to his life.

But the thought of bothering him stops me. Maybe I should wait for another time. He’s not going anywhere. I’m not going anywhere. Should I really give up the last promise I made to myself because of one heroic act? I’ve shed so much of me, I don’t want to be completely unrecognizable when I leave this place. There are parts of me I really like.

I shrug and turn around only to find myself face to face with Jackson. “You going inside?”

“Not planning on it.” It’s an act. My smugness. His gorgeous features trigger unwanted heart palpitations. If I believed in God, I would ask him why this guy has to be so freaking gorgeous. 

“I think you should.” He smiles as he continues to walk backward toward the building.

“Because?” I put my hand on my hip in the flirtatious way I used to in a life outside of this place.

“You might just find what you’ve been looking for.” He pulls open the door and extends his hand.

I study him for a minute. It feels a bit like a dare. “And what do you think I’m looking for?”

“The same thing as everyone else.” He steps into the doorway and before he lets it close behind him he says, “Love.”

I freeze.

No he didn’t.

Is he flirting with me? Oh my gosh, that’s nuts. I’m not looking for love. I rub my palms together in an attempt to restore circulation. Not too distant laughter touches my ears. The approach of two other students nudges me forward. I’m totally stuck now. I can’t run away in front of these people.

I step inside the glass wall. The students move around me as I stand in the foyer. Wooden walls arch around an enclosed inner circle. Hidden doors open to a room deeper in. The rustic smell of pine corresponds with the outdoors.

On the other side of the entrance, I step into a smaller circle. An auditorium style room opens up in front of me. Eight rows of wooden pews form progressively narrower octagons. The red, carpeted aisles disconnect the geometric shapes at intersections. The walkway leads toward a platform. My eyes adjusted to the soft glow of the room as hidden lights glow along the edge of the exterior wall. In the center of the ceiling, above the stage, skylights allow those inside to view the sky as well as the base of a large wooden cross on top of the building.

It is beautiful. I didn’t expect that.

Soft voices rise from small, clustered groups. For a moment, I’m confused. They act like they’re waiting for a concert. A couple people set up instruments on the stage. The visitors are easy to spot by their regular clothes. The students in the room vary from the gentlest inmates to skinheads and gang bangers. I start to calculate the ratio of bracelets to clean wrists when I see him.

My heart stops.

Daniel Orbach.

 I blink and look again. In that single moment I can’t think. Without a loud explosion, my two worlds collide.

Daniel Orbach stands near the center of the room.

Everything around me dims. I watch him like a vision. My mind never fathomed finding a ghost from my past wandering around in the middle of my new life. My plain khaki Dockers suddenly feel über lame. The uniform only needs an embroidered name tag to officially make it tacky. I yank at my shirt.

What is he doing here? He doesn’t have a uniform or a Shackle.

Students and other visitors mingle as Daniel makes eye contact and smiles at me. Cameras scan the open room. Red lights blink. I can’t breathe. While everyone else in the room socializes, I stare at my guilty past. It broke through the divide and stood less than fifty feet away.

From behind me, someone bumps hard against my shoulder.

I jump without leaving the ground.

“Whoa!” Mario laughs and lifts his hands in surrender. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I’m not scared.” I wipe wet hands on my pants.

Mario laughs again and lifts his chin at me before walking down toward the platform. Down toward Daniel. All the moments in my life when I craved this boy’s attention swarm me. I run my fingers through my hair. They get caught in the curls. No straight blond locks to improve the look of my outfit. 

 Mario’s smile shines at the group on the stage. All the words I wanted to say to him have left me. Back in the world I can no longer touch, I wouldn’t have associated with Mario. He never would’ve been part of my crowd. Not enough money or connections. And I hate how much Daniel makes me worry about that. I hate how ashamed I feel of Mario.

I sit on the hard pew and try to ignore Daniel’s gaze. His eyes invite me to the front. His flirtatious grin forces me to refuse.

This is nuts.

Why is he here? Virginia is at least 2000 miles from this place. How did he find me? Did he come to forgive me? Why now? I look a hot mess. Lip gloss and designer shades are back in my room. Based on attire, I count eleven visitors plus Daniel in the building. To me, he doesn’t fit in this dark lonely penitentiary.

Then again, over a month ago, neither did I.

Most of these kids have legitimate reasons to be here, their broken childhoods or dangerous backgrounds fated them for this place. My upbringing never pointed me toward prison. Yet, here I sit. And Daniel, of all people, has joined me. Maybe to forgive and forget. Do people actually do that? He has to be here because of me. I mean, his appearance is beyond coincidence. Besides, he doesn’t look surprised to see me. In fact, he appears to be happy. After all I did to him, his approval could make the rest of my days here more tolerable. Maybe he’ll come visit all summer.

I rub my hand along the polished wood of the pew. My body shivers and sweats as Daniel angles his shoulder toward me. He sits positioned to keep an eye on me from the front row of the round room. A spare Bible rests on the seat next to me. I pick it up and flip through the pages. With my peripheral vision, I can see Daniel’s eyes haven’t moved. Exhilaration stirs inside of me. I bite my lip to stop the quiver.

The Bible feels strange in my hand. Someone at the front of the room asks everyone to sit down while they say a prayer. Nanny Bella used to come into my room and pray when I was small. I struggle to remember. Something about dying before I woke up. I tremble even though the visitor doesn’t mention death. I lift my head to catch a peek at Daniel.

He isn’t bent over in prayer.

His eyes remain on me.

Then he winks.

Stop it heart. Stop it right now. I tuck my chin down and hide the grin that forces itself to my disloyal lips. I refuse to lift my head again. My index finger traces the tiny lines in the varnished wood. This isn’t the right place to feel these things. People around me sit down. I lower myself into the empty pew and keep my eyes on the floor.

The lights dim.

The music starts.

And I spend the entire time forcing myself to remember why I came to The Chapel in the first place. Mario. Thank, Mario. Then get the heck out of this place. But I am curious, what kind of game is Daniel Orbach playing this time?