Shay shivered in her cell, the wind blowing over her house of cards that she had spent hours on. But she didn't care. Shay was not intimidated by the wind. She was not intimidated by anything. She spat on the ground as the guard walked by, but she kept a glazed expression on her face, as if she was unaware of what she just did. The guard spat right back, but Shay didn't flinch.
"Bloody anarchist," the guard said through her teeth as she walked away.
Shay smiled. She liked that word. It was not an insult to her.
The frail woman crawled slowly to the cards splayed out on the floor of her cell. Time to tell the future, she thought, smiling with a crazy edge that she had perfected since her last time in jail. She was not an old bird, she was barely into her twenties. But fire tends to wrinkle your skin when you handle it frequently.
She laid out the cards in seven columns as per the game rules, piling the cards higher with each row. Solitaire was the only thing Shay followed the rules with. To see the future properly, you had to play the game right.
Shay looked towards her small, high window. Thunder sounded distantly, and she took it as a good omen. She reached into her jumpsuit's pocket to find her knife, but her hand found no weapon.
"Spades!" she shrieked, and jumped up on her weak legs to frantically look for her soda-can knife.
It's gotta be here, it must be here, it has to be here.
Shay was used to losing things. Her family. Her mind. Her humanity. But this was one thing she mustn't lose. Unless... Shay turned to face the seven columns of cards slowly, stepping gingerly towards them so she wouldn't disturb the thin pieces of paper in their places.
She sat again next to the cards. What did she just say when she discovered the loss of her knife?
Spades.
Images flashed in her mind.
Spades.
Shovel. Dirt. Tunnel. Light. Hope. Escape.
She took a deep breath and flipped the first three cards from the deck. The Ace of Spades was flipped first. Then the Queen of Hearts and the Six of Diamonds. In order to reach the Ace, she needed to dispose of the queen and her diamonds. She giggled. How fun.
The guard was making her rounds again. She looked into Shay's cell, but the inmate wasn't deterred. Prisoners were allowed to play cards, as long as the cards faced the cell door. The guard carried on.
Shay found a Seven of Clubs to place the Six of Diamonds on. Her mind slowed and she saw more flashes of images being released like confetti in her brain.
Clubs.
Hit. Fight. Weapon.
Diamonds.
Treasure. Shiny. Distraction.
Shay breathed deeply and understood. In order to escape the prison, she needed a weapon that dually acted as a distraction. No problem.
Lightning struck outside. Shay paused for a second, listening. Sometimes, during rainy days, she could hear codes being whispered from raindrop to raindrop. It helps when your friends control the weather.
Shay sat back and resumed her game.
She cracked her knuckles and looked at the next card. The Queen of Hearts. There was, of course, no place for the Queen to go, but it was expected. She could not flip over the next cards in the deck, because then the Ace of Spades would once again be out of her reach, so she had to work with what she had.
The word 'resourcefulness' flashed in her mind. She lifted the Two of Clubs from its seat as the only card without others in its column and placed it on a Three of Hearts.
The throne was now ready for its Queen, and Shay slipped the card into its rightful place.
The flashes started again in her mind, allowing her to see the future, and what she needed to get to it.
Queen of Hearts.
Central Figure. Her.
Throne.
Rightful place. Stay.
Shay did not move from her seated position on the floor. The cards told her to stay. So she would. All that was left was the Ace. She placed the card above the seven columns.
Seven Columns.
Seven days she had waited. On this day, the eighth, she was to escape.
Ace.
Black. Night. Tonight.
Shay did not need to finish the game. She had played by the rules and gained glimpses of the future, and that was all she needed. But she still placed all the cards on top of one another, switching their places like a paper version of musical chairs, and finished the game without much ado.
Once she was done, she collected the cards so they made a deck, and slid them into their ripped cardboard box. She sat next to the wall, feeling the rhythm of the rain through the concrete, and waited.
. . . . .
She knew it was time because the rain shifted. In the metropolis, it was common for weather shifters to make the rain fall in Morse code. Many of them had joined in the uprising, and members of the anarchy were required to learn the secret language in case of an emergency that required messages to be sent through rainfall.
Shay listened. There was a rhythm being repeated over and over again without pause.
-. --- .--
N - O - W
It was time.
The inmate stood unsteadily, the world slightly spinning due to her dehydration, but she welcomed the movement. She was so tired of being immobile. She was ready to move. She slid the cards out of their box, their slick backs resting against her palm. She stepped towards the bars that made up the door of her cell. The guard's faint footsteps echoed down the hall.
Shay took the Ace of Spades from the deck and placed it between her fingers. She breathed softly.
One. Two. Three.
Cards were commonly used as a distraction.
Step. Pause. Step.
And they could also be used as weapons.
Just as the guard stepped in view of Shay, she flicked her fingers and let the paper fly. It flicked the guard's face, and made a bright red slit appear on her cheek. In the split second it took for the guard to realize what just happened, Shay had pick-pocketed the keys around her belt and yanked the guard's legs out from under her.
Shay unlocked the cell and looked down upon the fallen soldier. The latter was knocked out cold and very well might never wake again. She stepped over her body and gingerly crept down the hall.
It did not matter that she was always losing things. It did not matter that she forgot to pick up the Ace of Spades as it lay next to the guard. It did not matter that she forgot to look for her soda-can knife.
What mattered was that she never forgot to keep going. To keep building those houses of cards, no matter how many times they fell or broke underneath their own weight.
What mattered was the euphoria you felt when your house of cards stood tall. When you proved to yourself that you could do it. Even if it was all a stupid game to those who watched.
As Shay used her deck of cards, her insanity, and her knowledge of prisons to find a safe passage out of the jail, she thought to herself about how Solitaire was a funny game.
The whole concept was built on the fact that you had to find a place for each card by mixing them together. Black with Red. One over the other. They only work together when you're trying to split them apart.
She laughed.
What a sad metaphor for our society.
YOU ARE READING
Solitaire in Solitary
Short Story'Bloody anarchist,' the guard said through her teeth as she walked away. Shay smiled. She liked that word. It was not an insult to her. In her cell, Shay plots her escape from prison with a deck of cards that might just tell the future if she play...
