Chain Reaction 3.69: Fish Bowl

    "Yo, there, Goth. Maybe you should hit the gym. You're putting on a little weight." It's Seiji, one of the inmates. Armed robbery and murder, and he likes to brag about it.
    "How have you been sleeping, Seiji?" It's been six weeks since I told Emily what happened. My pregnancy has progressed faster than a normal one, but then again, this isn't a normal one.
    "Can't complain. Why? You looking for a cuddle buddy?" He laughs.
    "You were screaming last night."

     "You're crazy. Maybe you dreamed it."
     "I was in the process of puking my guts out. I wasn't dreaming."
     "You're hearing things then."

    A few days later, he's complaining about his stomach. He claims they had to remove his appendix.
    "Why are you up and about, Seiji, when you should be resting?" Of course, I know the real reason he's uncomfortable.
    "Shut up, man. It was just a simple operation. I have a stomach ache today." He's especially jittery today, more than normal. When his little ticks get real bad, I almost want to punch him, but I figure he can't help it.
    Marcos, the man in front of me, speaks quietly. "Alex."
    "What?"
    "Something strange is going on." This is a man that tortured and killed his ex-wife, and he looks scared. "Your stomach. I've paid attention. You've been exercising regularly."

     I look him right in the eye. He's completely sane. The only person who was ever in danger from him was his ex. "And you know why?"
    He glances at the cop behind Seiji, and speaks quietly still, "I've seen it before. Men walk around with their bellies swelling, distended. Then, overnight, they're back to normal again. Then, they disappear. They say they get 'transferred,' but it's bull plum."
    Seiji speaks way too loudly. "Don't give him anything else to mope about! All he does is cry and insist he hears things at night."
     Marcos merely glances at him before continuing, "And last night..." He gets paler. "They got me. I thought it was a nightmare."
     "Oh, plum." I swallow.
     "What do I do?" His eyes are wide, and he hasn't touched his lunch.
     A voice behind me interrupts what I wanted to say, "Sup, b*tches."

     Seiji hisses like an alley cat. "Plum off, Miguel."
     He ignores him, and, as usual, directs his evil to me. "Saw your wife the other day, Alex. Mm! What I wouldn't do to her! Thought about it all night. Had to change my sheets." He sits down.
     I give him my deadliest look. "I'd chop your member off and choke you with it first." We all hate him. I have no idea why they put him in our little group. Rapists have a special place in hell. He raped and strangled a thirteen-year-old girl and left her body on her parents' lawn in a disgusting position for them to find.
     He cackles up to the ceiling, thrilled he got to me. "Not before I shove it down her throat first."
     To everyone's surprise, Seiji jumps at him first. "As-hole!" He breaks his plate over the side of the table and tries to cut his throat, but the cop makes it over here first. Seiji gets carted off to the padded room for a while.

     "I love you guys!" Miguel heartily laughs to the ceiling again. Then he looks at us. "So what are we talking about today, ladies?"
     "You're late to lunch today, Miguel," Marcos tries to change the subject.
     He stuffs a bite of his sandwich into his mouth and speaks while chewing. "I was talking with my lawyer. He thinks I can get an appeal." He grins maliciously at me and winks, implying the first woman he'd go after would be my Emily. I don't respond. If nothing else, I know Drake would kill him first.
    "You'll not be going anywhere for a while, Miguel," Marcos replies for me. "It's only a matter of time before they get you too."

     "Conspiracy theories? This should be good."
     I chime in before Marcos can. "How are you sleeping, Miguel?"
     "Just perfect, baby cakes, especially when I dream about your sweet wife."
     One day... I will beat the plum out of him. But not today.

     "Not having bad dreams and waking up with your stomach hurting?"
     "The only thing I wake up with is a hard c--k."
     "Alex, maybe they won't want his ilk." Marcos and I laugh and get up from the table together. Miguel calls after us with his mouth full of food, so we can't understand him. The other cop tells him to sit down and shut up.

     I get taken to a kind of lab in the middle of the night one night, and they run what they call "routine tests." They claim they're fascinated due to my advanced age. A few men in white lab coats speak animatedly about this 'example' opening further opportunities. "Routine tests." Right. It's bull plum, but what can I do?
     "How old did you say?" One man asks me.
     "Seventy-two." I don't feel it. I don't think I look it. Thanks to Graham's influence, I'm extremely fit.
     It's all enough to turn a sane person into a total nut job. Seiji's ticks make me want to scream, and Miguel's ceaseless jabs and teasing make me want to really commit murder. Marcos--I consider him a friend.

     Then, he and Seiji start "showing." This is actually a picture of a happier moment. Miguel has been thrown into solitary for a while.
     We're all scared, but we don't know what to do. More and more, they start separating the three of us from the rest of the inmates.

     I made a mistake in telling Emily.

     "I'm doing everything I can," she tells me. "You're right. We've uncovered where they transfer inmates out of the country. I didn't even know they could do that."
     "Shh. Please don't talk about it. I don't know what they'd do to you." I didn't miss her little 'we' in what she said. She means Drake. So now, Drake knows too. She tells me she's putting his hacking skills to good use. I hate that Drake has so much access to Emily now, but she assures me she's kept him in line.
    I make short work of her clothing.

     Miguel is right about one thing: I do have one sweet wife.
     I've more than once pondered the setup of this room, not that I'm complaining, but the bed is just a little too convenient.

     The two-way mirror bothers us... but not enough to prevent us from doing the most with what little time we're given.
     As I watch Emily, a sad thought hits me: They're going to take me from her. Woohoo-ing with my growing belly gets more and more difficult, but the scary thought is that it may be the last we get.
     I can't let that happen. Somehow, I have to figure out what's going on.