My voice was gravelly from lack of water but I needed to play the part. If I was going to get my mum to believe I was unwell, I needed to sound it. I'm not allowed to use my phone but I'm welcome to use the correction facility's phone. With caller ID becoming more prevalent, I couldn't have her see I was making a phone call from prison so I asked to use Steve's. He wasn't thrilled about me using his phone but if he wanted information, he was going to have to comply with my requests.
Steve dug into his pocket and handed me his phone. I thought he was going to step out to give me some privacy but he stayed put. He asked me who I was calling and what I planned to talk about. Once I told him the reason, he understood and didn't question me further.
I typed in my mum's phone number. It's no surprise I memorized it by heart. She always made a point to remember my home address and phone number in case I got lost. I pressed the phone to my ear and waited for her to pick up. Right before it went to voicemail, she picked up. I'm surprised she didn't let it go to voicemail since it wasn't a number she recognized.
"Hello?" she answered.
"It's me—Van. I'm having issues with my phone so I had to use my neighbor's," I replied, pausing to cough. "I'm feeling ill today so I won't be able to visit. Reckon I'm coming down with the flu or summat but don't worry—I'm taking cold medicine and resting." I couldn't see my mum but I pictured her worrying, wishing she could care for me. If she were here, she'd feed me and have me stay in bed.
"Oh Van, I'm sorry to hear that. I hope you feel better. Do you have anything to eat?"
"Yeah, I've got food. Don't worry about me."
"Call me if you need anything. I'll be checking on you." I began to panic when I heard that. She could call all she wants but I won't be able to answer.
"My phone's been having issues. I've been meaning to sort it out with the phone company but haven't found the time. I'm doing just fine, honest! I'll visit you next week." She was silent on the other end, contemplating my words. After some time, she finally spoke.
"I'll see you next week then. How are you doing?"
"Look—I'd love to talk but I'm using my neighbor's phone and haven't got all day, ya know? I'm well...just feeling a bit under the weather but I'll visit you next week. And I'll try to fix my phone as soon as possible."
"Alright, Van. Call me as soon as you get your phone fixed. I love you." I'm not embarrassed to tell my mum I love her but Steve was listening to our conversation making things a bit awkward.
"I love you too," I said quickly and hung up.
I handed Steve his phone. He was looking at me and there was something in his eyes that looked like sympathy. My mum worries a lot about me. If she knew I was in prison, she'd worry even more. I was hoping I wouldn't be here much longer. I made a promise to see her next Saturday and hoped I didn't have to lie to her again.
Calling my mum was supposed to make me feel better but it only made me feel worse about my predicament. My freedom was gone and I missed home. There was no doubt my work took notice of my absence. Did they look into what happened to me? Do they even care?
"I'm going to get you out but I need you to work with me," Steve began. "We're stuck at a dead end. The fingerprints, fibers, and hair found belong to you and Ian. There is no sign of another person being involved. His phone and email don't show anything alarming. The security footage from the business across the street caught Ian walking towards the apartment complex but it doesn't show him leaving."
He was listing things off the top of his head and you could hear the desperation in his voice. He was practically begging and I was enjoying the sudden power I had over him. Did I feel generous today? Lucky for him, I did.
