Burnington Gaol

F O R T Y - T H R E E | Adeline

As the moon hovered in the brilliant midnight-blue sky, I peeled back the covers and inched my way over the loft to the window. Dad sat there, asleep, overlooking the cold, still gaol. It reminded me of the night I first saw Frank and Jimmy climbing over the outer wall. I almost wish they were there.

I turned to look at my father's belt, where I saw his silver keys glimmering in the pale moonlight. Slowly, I reached for them, eyeing the tightly fastened clip. I grabbed the keys in one hand, careful to keep them still and quiet, and gently unfastened them from his belt. Dad stirred and my body froze. I watched him carefully, his closed eyes twitching, as if he was peering into a dream. Then, thankfully, he settled and I snatched up the keys easily.

As I headed for the stairs, I paused for just a minute and looked over at Billy. His long, lean body was sprawled across the mattress and his mouth was open in a snore. I contemplated taking him with me, or at least telling him where I was going, but quickly decided against it. Frank didn't really like him at the best of times, so I headed down the stairs alone.

I slunk along the pathway between the inner and outer wall, watching for the guards who were making their rounds. The keys were tucked in my pocket and my light footsteps barely made a sound, so I carried on with a sense of foolish confidence flickering in the back of my mind.

I ducked into the East Wing, which had a doorway facing the path. The dark, quiet hallways never failed to unsettle me, especially now they were so crowded, with West Wing looking like a structure made of charcoal. The soft – but sometimes violent – sounds of sleep drifted past me, and through the darkness, I searched for Frank's cell.

I reached out in front of me, not daring to touch the cell bars as I walked through the blackness. I hoped that my mental image of the wing compared accurately with the reality in which I was standing.

It should be close, I thought to myself. A few more steps.

"Adeline."

The voice was so sudden and loud that my knees almost gave way in fright. With tense muscles and a breath caught in my throat, I straightened myself.

"What are you doing here?" Frank asked.

I peered into the dark cell, barely distinguishing his broad silhouette.

"I-I came to talk to you," I said.

"I told you. I want to be alone before I die."

"But you don't have to die," I insisted. "Why won't you just tell me what you know?"

Silence.

"Please, Adeline. Just go."

His tone was as flat and lifeless as the first time he'd said those words, but this time I wouldn't listen. The fire that burned in my gut wouldn't let me give up so easily.

"No," I said, stepping closer to the bars. "I've dug up bodies for you, almost been shot because of you, been inside meth labs and watched my brother almost die because of you!" I threw my hands at the bars, the dark anger turning my cheeks red. "And now you just want to give up? On Jimmy, on... on me?"

A stone-cold silence perched itself between us, and Frank gave nothing away. My own words began to filter in my brain, and I loosened my grip on the bars.

"That's what it is, isn't it?" I asked. "You're protecting him, even though he's gone, you're still protecting him."

"You could never understand – "

"I understand perfectly," I said. "More than anybody else. You forget that I have a little brother, too. One that I practically raised for ten years of my life."