Precision
“Y’know, for someone who is as organized as you are, I’d bet money that you’re going to be late to your own funeral.”
Jessie’s best friend sat at a small table in front of a cafe, waiting with her arms crossed as the time-impaired brunette scrambled to join her. Honestly, she hadn’t even spotted her friend until the other girl noticed she was within earshot.
“Bianca, please, you know damn well that your life would be boring and miserable without me,” she replied, finally setting down her messenger bag, which practically contained everything but her kitchen sink.
Her friend let out a snort and a small laugh at the irony of their conversation. They’ve been friends since the early days of their college careers and have been inseparable ever since. Jessie had helped Bianca with studying, organizing timelines for future goals, and even ingrained the idea of color-coded flashcards in her head. She’d never admit that they worked better and her grades improved as a college student, though.
Bianca was definitely the extrovert in their friendship. She had curly black hair and olive-toned skin that almost perfectly matched the color of her eyes. She was more of a party girl between the ages of 18-22, but now that they were creeping up on their mid-to-late 20s, that lifestyle had simmered down a little.
“You’re absolutely right, I don’t have the need to adopt a pet because I spend too much of my time taking care of you anyways!” She joked.
The two girls continued their banter for a few more minutes before their conversation was briefly interrupted by a barista dropping off the items that had been ordered before Jessie arrived. She set down a hot cappuccino with trendy foam art in front of Bianca, as well as a blueberry muffin the size of a softball. Jessie received an iced coffee of some sort, and an avocado croissant sandwich. Bianca muttered a quick ‘thank you’ to the employee. She quickly turned to her friend, who was clearly surprised by the food in front of them.
“I don’t want to hear any backtalk, missy. I know you haven’t eaten anything yet.”
Jessie pulled her phone out of her back pocket, clicking the side-button on the device to check the time. It was nearing 11:30am.
“How could you possibly know that? I’ve been up for a few hours, I could’ve had a bowl of cereal or maybe-”
She started to defend herself, but a quick look from her friend that read “I call bullshit” stopped her in her tracks. She huffed out a sigh of defeat.
“Okay, fine,” she admitted, grabbing the cold drink in front of her and taking a sip.
She was grateful for her friend that knew her exact taste. The iced drink had strong notes of vanilla, but there was a hint of something else hiding in the familiar flavor of coffee beans. She later confirmed it was hazelnut.
“Alright, I’ve waited patiently enough. Time for you to tell me about this crazy prison experiment you’re involved in,” Bianca deadpanned.
While some of their other friends had been very vocal about how they might not think Jessie’s current endeavors were a good idea, her best friend was doing her best to be supportive. Jessie scoffed at Bianca’s wording.
“It’s not a crazy prison experiment, Bi. I’m just meeting with small groups of some of the inmates and allowing them a safe way to express themselves.”
“Right, so you mean to tell me that you’re not picking apart each of their movements and analyzing why they chose a green pencil instead of a blue one?” Bianca teased.
It was a known thing that Jessie had the tendency to have to know why. It could be for the smallest reasons: why people are friendlier during the holidays, why certain hobbies interest people versus others, etc.
“Oh, stop it, I’m not putting these people under a microscope and watching their every move. They’re all regular people like you and me.”
Jessie then explained that the doctor she’d been working with would only be allowing her to visit with inmates that were considered non-violent, and how none of the men she’d met so far had made her feel uncomfortable. She went on saying that while she hadn’t gotten to know them very well yet, she was looking forward to learning details about them like she would a friend.
After about two hours of chatting about their lives, discussing the latest happenings in their social circles, and various topics of wild things they’d seen on the internet, Bianca started to pack up her things.
“Alright girly, I’ve got to get a few more things done for the day,” she said, crumbling up the receipt that had come with their coffees and pastries.
Once again, Jessie pulled out her phone to check the time. She had an unread text message from Dr. Anderson. She unlocked the device and quickly read over it. It contained a formal greeting, as well as an offer for her to come to the facility tomorrow for another creative session. They hadn’t necessarily established a set-in-stone schedule for her, as he wanted to see how the residents of the prison would respond to her first. She decided she’d reply to the doctor in a moment and turned to her friend.
“It’s so good to see you, as always,” she said, getting up from her seat to hug her friend. “Text me when you get back into town so we can do this again, please!”
During their catch-up session, Bianca mentioned going out of town for a work trip. She landed a job as a paralegal while Jessie was finishing up her doctorate, and was planning to fly to Houston for a big meeting with one of their corporate clients.
“You’re just saying that so that someone can be responsible for feeding you,” she joked.
The girls laughed and parted ways. Jessie picked up her bag from the back of her chair where it had been hanging and went back to the text message on her phone. She replied back to Dr. Anderson and let him know that she’d be there in the morning.
—
The next morning, Jessie made sure to wake up at a decent hour to give herself enough time for a quick shower and breakfast. She decided that she needed to make some improvements to her sleep schedule if visiting the corrections facility was going to become semi-regular. She was regretting it at the moment, as she hadn’t gone to sleep until about 2am, getting lost in an impromptu research rabbit hole about various new-age artists.
Still, she made her coffee particularly strong this morning and was out the door at a time that she was happy with, given today’s schedule, and made her way to the Metropolitan Corrections Facility.
When she got there, she quietly nodded at the security guards she’d seen a couple of times before, who were slowly becoming familiar with her presence. They hadn’t made a big show of her being there at all really, but now it was starting to become normal to buzz her in and check in her belongings. She made her way down the hallway that she was getting better at memorizing until she was met with the open door of Dr. Anderson’s office. He was nose-deep in various papers on his desk and hadn’t heard the dull thud of her footsteps down the hallway. She lifted a hand and lightly knocked on the wooden door to get his attention.
“Ah, good morning, Jessie,” he said, briefly startled at the sound.
He got up from his desk and sorted the papers he’d been looking at into a neat stack. He walked around the desk and quickly shook her hand. She loved how professional and polite he was with her, compared to the playful nicknames and jokes he’d thrown at their patients.
“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” She asked, curious about the semi-last minute plan to have her here.
“Well, Dr. Alexander, I was hoping you could tell me.”
Jessie gave him a confused look, urging him to explain further.
“I just mean, I thought the gentlemen you met had a good experience with you the other day, so why don’t you construct the activity for today?”
A smile crept across her face as her mind started racing with ideas. She rattled off a couple of general concepts to him, wanting his opinion. Finally, the idea came to her.
“Charlie, can I request your assistance with helping me carry a few things?”
The older doctor was intrigued by her inquiry. She’d already begun walking out of his office as she asked. He let out a small chuckle, following her. The pair made their way down the required corners and turns of the hallways before stopping at a familiar room.
“The library?” He asked. “Ms. Jessie, I don’t think our residents are quite ready to be drafting their own novels.”
Jessie let out a laugh and shook her head at the man.
“We’re not writing, we’re just going to borrow a few books for the day.”
She stepped into the room, wondering if she’d see any familiar faces. The worn chairs from the other day were empty, causing an unusual feeling. Disappointment? She wasn’t sure. Nevertheless, she saw a sturdy cardboard box laying near the door and picked it up, immediately heading towards the bookshelves.
She defied the one rule of reading, never judge a book by its cover, as she scanned the shelves for the most interesting looking books. None of them had particularly flashy covers, but some of them were so old that there was intricate detailing on the spines. She grabbed a few of those, as well as a pair of magazines that had big, bold letters across the top. After putting about 7 or 8 books in her box, she turned to Dr. Anderson, who had been waiting by the door, watching her.
“Okay, this should do. Would you mind doing the honors?” She asked, offering the heavier box to him.
He obliged and took the box from her, following behind her once again as they made their way to the empty room that was now her designed setup space. As Dr. Anderson set the box down on one of the tables, she got to work, taking the books out and setting them up in various positions. A few of the books were stacked on top of eachother, spines facing outward, one was leaned up against the stack with the two magazines behind it, and the last book was carefully laid on the table, open. A few stray pages were left curled, adding some dimension to her display.
She looked around the room for a moment, looking for anything else to add to her project on the table. During her hunt, she noticed that she was alone in the room, as Dr. Anderson disappeared to fetch their patients. She spotted one of the various cups of pencils and positioned it in front of the stack of books. Wanting to add a bit more complexity to the display, she plucked a few of the pencils out and scattered them on the table. As she stood back to admire her work, someone behind her cleared their throat.
She spun around to see the doctor and the six inmates that she’d met previously. Dr. Anderson had a small smirk on his face.
“Dr. Alexander, what have you prepared for us today?” He asked, stepping aside to allow the men to file into the room. Their usual guard followed behind them, assuming his position at the door.
Jessie let a small smile make its way to her features as the men looked at the display. They once again got into their preferred groups, sitting at the tables. Groups is a loose term, as James sat in solitude once again.
“Good morning, you guys. Today, we’re going to do something with a little more structure than last time. As you can see, I’ve set up some books and other materials on the center table,” she started. Her eyes met the stoic blue ones that she’d wanted to become more familiar with.
At the mention of the books, those very eyes scanned over the faux sculpture in the middle of the room. He spotted titles he was familiar with, as he’d read most of the books that their small library had to offer.
“What we’re doing today is called a ‘still life’. We’ll be using graphite pencils and paper, and referencing the model on the table. You can pick anywhere on the display to focus on. If you have any questions, let me know.”
She grabbed a stack of drawing paper from another table and began handing it out. When she got to the table where the silent man sat, he looked up and met her gaze. She offered him a small smile, placing a few pieces of drawing paper in front of him. He didn’t return the smile, but the look on his face that she’d noticed the first time they met had returned. The eye contact that felt like it lasted much longer than it did, which was really only a few seconds, was interrupted by another inmate.
“What’s a graphite pencil? Does it have real lead in it?” One of the men asked.
“No, dumbass, it’s not real lead. It’s just a regular pencil,” John answered.
He seemed to be the most vocal of the group.
“Gentlemen, let’s refrain from the name-calling,” Dr. Anderson called. “Unless it’s truly deserved.”
This got a chuckle from most of the men. Even James’ lip curled upward ever-so-slightly.
“John is right, it’s just a regular pencil. As we know, lead is bad for you, so pencils are made of graphite. Real lead was used by ancient Romans, so I guess the term just stuck.”
As she finished up explaining today’s activity. Dr. Anderson made his way to where she was standing and nodded his approval. He complimented the execution of her project. As they briefly discussed it, small talk broke out among the tables.
Jessie stood on the sidelines for a while, just observing as her patients studied the still life and sketched it out on paper. She provided additional pencils and erasers as they asked for them. She started making her rounds to the tables. She sat down at the almost-empty table where James was working, seemingly lost in thought as he lightly shaded the details of his drawing. He failed to notice her presence for a few moments.
“How’s it going over here?” She asked.
Her voice suddenly seemed to startle him. The pencil in his hand quickly shifted its position, and it almost looked like he was wielding it as a weapon. His breathing became more fast paced for a moment and his pupils constricted, his eyes looking around rapidly before settling on her. She recoiled in her chair, watching his face closely.
“James?” She inquired quietly.
He looked to the writing tool in his hand, and set it down on the table. He brought both of his hands up to the edge of the surface and let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.
She searched his eyes for some sort of answer. As she held eye contact with him for a few more moments, he seemed to calm down. Dr. Anderson beelined towards them.
“Everything alright over here?” He asked in a soft tone.
He wanted to be subtle, so that anything that was happening wouldn’t rile up the other patients. He also wanted to be sure that he wasn’t undermining Jessie and her ability to settle an escalated interaction. Charlie had been making eye contact with the guard in the doorway during the interaction, who was watching intently. He offered a nod to the guard to let him know the situation was under control.
Jessie looked up at him, and then back to the long-haired patient in front of her. She gave him an expectant look, letting him know that he could answer the doctor. James was silent, but gave a quick nod. That was good enough of an answer for the older doctor.
The patient spent the rest of the creative session with his eyes glued to his paper, barely moving a muscle.