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Fate's Bitch	By : Saoirse Category: G through L > Longest Yard, The Views: 5843 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Longest Yard, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Chapter One
- 2-Chapter Two
- 1
- 2
Disclaimer:
I don�t own jack shit
from The Longest Yard, however I
wouldn�t mind owning Captain Knauer in the locker room for an hour.

Fate�s
Bitch

By
Saoirse the Irish Colleen

Prisons are strategically built in
the remotest of places to deter any potential escapees contact with
civilization. But this was Texas, and everyone knew how it embraced its
correctional institutions. Allenville Federal Penitentiary was roughly a
hundred miles from the U.S.-Mexican border, with nothing but desert and rough mountain
terrain and the mercury could rise up to 105� degrees average. But even the
toughest of prisoners that could make it out alive from the ninety-foot high
cinderblock walls, stockade, razor wire, bloodthirsty guard dogs and
electrified fence they couldn�t outrun a bullet- usually to the head. The
guards stalking the towers and catwalks were spoiled by their megalomaniac warden
with the finest arsenal that the military would blush at. Of course Warden Raleigh
Hazen had his men well trained. If that crazy old bastard ever got to the
governor�s mansion in Austin he�d have a private security detail handpicked
from his semi-pro football team straight from his offensive unit.
Dr. Joanna Van Arsdale watched the
guards from a foggy window on the green kick the living shit out of each other
for a lump of pigskin. Her dark eyes trained on one in particular, his shock of
bright red hair was easy to follow now that he hurled his white helmet at some
poor fool who wouldn�t pass the ball correctly, or something like that. Joanna
made it her life�s mission to detest football, and it wasn�t just �a woman
thing.� Captain Brian Knauer screamed plays like a drill sergeant to his team;
he might as well have been speaking Chinese. He was one of the smaller men, and
by small he was 6�1� as opposed to the mountains of cement that carved out the
others, but he trained and hit the weights as virulently as they did. His
svelte stature suited his coveted position as quarterback; he was the prison�s
record holder for rushing. Joanna pushed away from the glass slightly when she
saw Knauer scan the skies frustratedly even though she knew he couldn�t see her
from that distance. She looked at the wall clock and moved on.
Outside Caretaker pushed a sopping
mop on the sand strewn loggia. He turned up the volume on one of his many
smuggled iPod Videos listening to the
local news Podcast he downloaded.
�Mmm, mmm, mmm!� Caretaker shook his
head mournfully. �Ain�t that a damn shame.� He lamented to himself pausing his
mopping.
�That mop don�t move on its own,
inmate!� A guard by the name of Hart snapped getting in Caretaker�s surprised
face brandishing his Riot Gun.
�Oh no, sir!� Caretaker attempted to
calm Hart unfazed by the racking of the gun. �I was just sayin� what a damn
shame with that truck accident up on I-110.� Hart lowered his gun, Interstate
110 wasn�t far from the prison, if it was bad they may have to evacuate.
�What accident?� Hart questioned.
�Listen for yourself.� Caretaker
offered one of the ear buds to Hart.
��Breaking
news story, a 16-wheeler on I-110 has just rolled off the road. The driver
having been airlifted to a hospital in Fort Worth is in critical but stable
condition. Police on the scene now report that the driver wasn�t drunk, but
sleep-deprived, causing thousands of dollars worth of merchandise in alcoholic
and non-alcoholic beverages to be thrown from the truck, littering the
highway��
Hart�s expression went from
ballistic to excited. He saw Caretaker studying his countenance and he cleared
his throat squaring his huge shoulders.
�They might need some help with the
clean up.� He blew a fierce whistle getting the attention of the two nearest
guards doing their rounds. �Nelson! Yacone!� The two guards stopped their
patrol when Hart approached them a little out of breath. �Get one of our bigger
trucks. There was an accident up on I-110 with a beverage truck and they may
need out help with the� clean up.� They saw Hart�s eyebrows cock suggestively
and laughed.
�Yessir!� They said in unison and
the three traipsed off whooping and hollering. Caretaker went on with his
mopping for a few minutes surreptitiously observing the tired dayshift guards
on the catwalks and sharpshooters on the guard towers. Their attention was on
anything but the now desolate
stockade. Caretaker tossed his head right and left checking for any watchful
(or nosey) eyes and made a gesture with his head. Joanna emerged from her
hiding place.
�Caretaker,� she whispered clapping
him gently on the shoulder as she hopped off the ancient Spanish sandstone
fa�ade.
�Watch your ass, Doc.� Caretaker
murmured wheeling his mop and bucket away.
A scorpion burrowed its way into the
yellow dirt, Joanna treaded past it without so much as a glance on her $300
dollar Blahnik open toe black pumps. The
vaporous heat rippled the air and in the distance stood a pair of claptrap
edifices on stilts four feet off the ground slapped together out of sheet metal
and wood. They resembled outhouses, had no windows and had iron deadbolts
pulled across the doors locking them tight. Temperatures inside reached up to 120�
degrees giving them the moniker �hotboxes�. Joanna slid open a smaller door at the
foot of the door large enough to put through a food tray and rolled in a sports
bottle filled to the brim with icy grape Gatorade.
The little door rattled as the inmate inside pathetically tried to open it in
his dangerously ill state.
�Mr. Crewe,� Joanna said, �this is
no time to be a hardass when your survival
is at stake.�
�I know I must be hallucinating,
because I hear a real attractive voice outside.� Panted Paul Crewe, the
disgraced and now incarcerated NFL MVP. �You sure you�re not Lambert? He�s the
one who kicked me outta the bus when I first got here. He�d be pussy enough to
drop me with poison.�
Joanna laughed sardonically. �No
that�d be Dunham. He likes to front with all sorts of colorful euphemisms and
Hornet�s Nests.�
�Yeah, I love him too.� Crewe
sounded positively loopy.
�Take a sip Mr. Crewe.�
�Yessah�� He popped open the spout
and took a long draught.
�My name is Dr. Joanna Van Arsdale,
Mr. Crewe. I don�t know if you remember me, but I�m the attending physician
here at the Grey Bar Hotel who gave you your physical. She hunched down on her
knees trying to see through the oxidized holes to check is condition.
�Do you have black hair?� Crewe
asked.
�I do.� Joanna confirmed happy at
his recall ability.
�Almond eyes?� Paul goofily drawled.
�Yes.�
�You�ve got one� nice� ass, lady.�
�Thank you.� Joanna was genuinely
flattered.
�Real grabable ass� Lena had no ass.
She threw up at least twice a day.� Crewe smeared his ex with impunity.
�Well then her heart, liver and
other assorted problems she�ll have in the near future will have an
explanation.� Joanna remarked.
�Yeah. Some tutti-fruity makin� her
clothes.� Crewe snorted and took another drink. �Hey, how the fuck did you end
up in this shithole?�
�That�s a long story.� Joanna
sighed.
�Well it�s not like I have to jet
off to some exhibition game in Detroit or anything� on second thought for get
it. I don�t want Knauer coming down on anybody else because of me. Just in case
if you don�t know, he doesn�t seem to like me that much.�
�Brian can be a handful.� Joanna
admitted.
�Brian?�
Crewe hooted. �The fucker�s name is Brian?!
You�ve gotta be kidding me! How could Satan�s spawn be called �Brian�?!�
�That you�re gonna have to ask his
mamma.� Joanna remarked with a certain note of familiarity that even Crewe in
his state recognized.
�So good ol� Bri�s a handful, how
long you known him?�
�Since our days at Miami U. We�re
both Floridians. He�s been a Texas transplant since graduation when he didn�t make the NFL cut. He thinks
drawling like a cowpoke is classy.�
�And you think that he�s the biggest
jackass this side of the galaxy.�
�And the other one they just
discovered.� Joanna sat on the porch to the nearest hole where her voice could
better travel through. She spoke with a charming twang that regardless where
she went she�d never lose.
�So when did you two lose track of
each other?�
�I practiced medicine in L.A. for
nearly 20 years, but unfortunately for my hospital the HMO that purchased it, Sutro
Medical, felt that the number of sick and dying we had were cutting into their
profit margins and were promptly �reorganized.��
�They shut down the hospital and you
were laid off.� Crewe translated.
�Bingo. Anyway, I coasted by a few
months without anything and considered moving back east when a friend of mine
said that a brand new medical facility in Texas needed an attending physician
with a surgical license. I jumped at the chance and got the job through a phone
call. I should�ve known something wasn�t right��

* * *

Two
Years Earlier�

Joanna drove her black Audi in circles and all she could see
was desert that stretched for miles endlessly. Now she admitted she didn�t know
Texas from a hole in the wall, but trying to find this new facility in the
middle of nowhere was dancing on her good last nerve. The only thing she kept
passing was a truck stop and gas station, a trailer greasy spoon called the
Panhandle Caf� and in the distance a prison. The guard towers and water tower
with a name she couldn�t make out were most visible, she didn�t want anywhere
near that. She checked her Swarofski crystal Guess watch, 8:15 a.m. and she had a meeting with the hospital�s
director promptly at nine. Looks like she was going to be late. Joanna turned
right back around and went to the truck stop, she was famished and hoped that
her cell phone might work, if not she hoped there was a payphone she needed to
call the director. As she pulled in she saw a sheriff�s black and white cruiser
and was greatly relieved, they knew the county better than anyone and could
help her.
Country Western music groaned from
the jukebox as patrons, mostly truckers, plowed through breakfast. A sky blue
uniformed waitress greeted Joanna pleasantly and poured her some coffee as she
sat at the counter.
�What�s the breakfast special?�
Joanna asked.
�Mexican omelet, flapjacks, bacon
and toast.� The waitress informed her.
�Sounds good to me.� The waitress
shouted Joanna�s order to the kitchen. �Um, do you know where the sheriff�s
deputies are?� She asked the waitress.
�They�ll be right out of the men�s
room in a minute. Somethin� wrong honey?� The waitress asked concerned.
�Oh, I�m not in trouble or
anything.� Joanna reassured her. �I�m just new to Texas and am sort of lost.�
�Well now, maybe I could help ya.�
The waitress switched coffee pots.
After a moment�s consideration
Joanna nodded. �Maybe you could.� She pulled a business card out of her purse
and handed to the waitress who took it as if she was given a cow�s tongue. �I�m
Dr. Joanna Van Arsdale and I just came out from California.�
�Oh, now that�s good to know.� The
waitress pocketed her card. �I�m Agnes.� They shook hands. �How do?�
�Very good, thank you.� A bell rang
and the Mexican chef stuck his head out the kitchen window.
�One breakfast special!� Agnes
placed Joanna�s two plates before her.
�It looks good.�
�Now how may I help you, Doctor?�
Agnes politely asked with an undertone that lusted for gossip.
�Well like I said before, I�m out
from California and just got this new job here in Texas.� Joanna crammed a
slice of buttered wheat toast in her mouth.
�Well congratulations and welcome to
Texas.� Agnes said.
�Thank you.� Joanna washed down a
fat bite of her flapjacks with coffee. �But the thing is, I can�t find it and I
have a meeting with the director in,� Joanna looked at her watch, �twenty
minutes.�
�Well, hon, where would y�all be
workin� out here?� Agnes propped her chin up in her hand.
�That�s just it. I was told that
it�s a brand new facility- hospital I should probably say- and they need an
attending physician who has a surgical license, which is where I come in.�
�Well honey, I can tell ya the
nearest hospitals we got is in Fort Worth. Maybe they gave ya wrong
directions.� Agnes suggested.
�No, I�m pretty sure they�re
correct. They said for me to just keep going straight down I-110 and I�ll find
it.�
�Well what�s the name of this
hospital?� Joanna put down her syrupy knife and fork on her plate and searched
her black leather briefcase pulling out the file that held her contract.
�Uh, Allenville.�
A ghastly silence descended over the
patronage and staff. All activity froze and Agnes� jaw hit the counter. Joanna
was completely poleaxed. The men�s room door slammed open and the two deputies
emerged.
�Excuse us ma�am,� one said
adjusting his gun belt, �but I couldn�t help but overhear you mentionin�
somethin� �bout Allenville.� The other deputy behind him hastily zipped his
pants.
�Yes, deputy.� Joanna was freaked by
the collective shock she caused. The sheriff�s deputy took the empty stool
beside her and looked her dead in the eye.
�I suppose you might be surprised at
our abrupt change in manner.�
�You could say that.� Joanna
carefully responded.
�The only new facility that we are
aware of is the new infirmary in the Allenville Federal Penitentiary.� The news
dropped like a bomb on Joanna and she mentally backtracked to the prison she
saw.
�Oh my God.� She muttered.
�Now, not to be insultin� you or
anything, but seein� that you are one of the few female employees at the pen
would you like to have an escort?� A fine mess she got into. She knew something
smelled a bit ripe when a job offering a salary double than what she was making
back in L.A. in a state-of-the-art facility just dropped into her lap from
Heaven. The contract was signed and sealed, plus her lease ran out on her condo
back in L.A., she had nowhere to go. But she wasn�t about to look like a pussy either.
She straightened up and squared her slender shoulders.
�Thank you deputy. But I�m sure the
inmates will be sufficiently isolated from me when I�m not treating them.�
Joanna said as confidently as she could. Then the other deputy leaned in over
his partner�s shoulder and spoke up.
�Actually ma�am, we was referrin� to
the guards.� Joanna blanched, suddenly visions of psychos with billyclubs and
bolt-action rifles mounted with scopes came to mind.
�Maybe a SWAT team or two would do.�
Joanna murmured.

* * *

If there was one thing that Joanna
had to make herself reassimilate to was the Southern attitude of justice and
authority. It was exact, it was swift, it was hard and it was relentless. No
one dared question the authority of Allenville�s correctional officers or
Warden Hazen- inside the prison. But they were notorious for treating civilians
as though they were inmates, and that was unacceptable. But Warden Hazen was a
prominent figure and a would-be politician; no one had the balls to stand up to
any of them.
An hour later Joanna�s Audi and the sheriff�s cruiser bringing
up the rear rolled up to Allenville�s gates. With her tinted windows up and the
AC blowing Joanna heard the hollering begin.
�Soueeee! Soueeee! Soueeee!� A guard
jumping out from his box circled Joanna�s car like a buzzard. �I spy with my
little eye an Audi! Yessir!� He
tipped up his uniform baseball cap with his billyclub. Making noise were the
inmates behind the chain link fences and guards crowded at their posts to get a
view. Joanna swallowed around the fist-sized knot in her throat and brought her
driver side window down. �And look out! I see somethin� mighty fine inside!� Now the swaggering guards
were making noise with the inmates with catcalls and wolf whistles. Joanna
smiled defiantly despite the sexual harassment she was getting from all around.
�Good morning sir. I�m Dr. Joanna
Van Arsdale, your facility�s new attending physician. I know I�m a tad late,
but I do have a meeting with your� warden.�
�Ya hear that boys!� The guard
announced to his teammates. �We got ourselves an All-American woman to give us
some TLC!� The minute the �yehaws� and barking went up the sheriff�s cruiser�s
doors opened and the two deputies from the restaurant accompanied by a female officer
with a shotgun that looked like a potential player on Allenville�s football
team emerged.
�The doctor would like to get to her
meeting please.� One of the deputies stated coldly, they tapped their fingers
on their sidearm automatics and the female officer racked the shotgun
wordlessly. The guards were silent and exchanged glares with them. They had
been catching some flak lately from local law enforcement due to an incident at
one of the watering holes in town. The guard smirked and chuckled and returned
to his box to call Joanna in. Not one minute went by and he buzzed open the
gates. Joanna looked back at the cops and they nodded to her. The guard stuck
his smug face back in her car startling her.
�Welcome to Allenville. Y�all have a
nice day now, y�hear?� He removed himself and waved her in. Joanna took a
detour away from the stockade and went through another gate into the employees
parking lot. Joanna tended to wear skirt suits to work and she was thankful
that it was a decent knee length. In spite of her being in the Deep South, she
refused to suppress her sensuality and chose an indigo suit with a blazer that
pulled tight about the waist. She thought about taking it off but when a
quartet of guards assembled by her car toting black Riot Guns she decided
wisely against it. The four behemoths that approached her as she was getting
out of her car looked more suited for the WCW. Joanna assumed them to be
non-commissioned officers dressed in gunmetal grey track pants tucked into
black boots, blue ringers and the prison guard baseball caps.
�Dr. Van Arsdale?� One of them said.
�That�s me.� Joanna chirped.
�Warden Hazen asked us to escort you
to your meetin�.�
�How kind.� Joanna said tightly. She
was flanked by the four guards walking in steady cadence. She put on her poker
face pretending to be oblivious of them but knowing they ogled her behind their
standard kit black wire frame shades. Joanna by all appearances to the guards was
a high-maintenance bitch; her glossy black hair had part of it twisted in a bun
anchored down by a pair of lacquer chopsticks, a thick 18-karat gold rope
bracelet was on her left wrist and killer black Prada heels she picked up on a shopping spree while vacationing in
Milan. She had three piercings in her ears, diamond studs of three different
karats in them. On her left hand was a copy of Princess Diana�s famed
engagement ring in silver, but the white and blue sapphires were genuine. On
her right hand in Indian yellow gold was pink and white diamond florettes with
emerald leaves on her ring finger and on her index finger was a ruby solitaire
in white gold. At the hollow of her throat was a pav� heart on a gold
herringbone chain. Her pearline nails were sculpted. She wore Marilyn Monroe cat�s-eye
shades.
Joanna thought she was being led
inside the prison, but they took a detour and was led out another gate outside
the prison proper onto what shocked her to her bones a football field. A group
of K-9 unit guards stalked around the green, dressed in their training kit
white pants, midnight blue muscleman shirts and white cleats leading vicious
dogs by heavy steel chains while the team clashed violently. The coaches and
trainers conferred by the refreshment tables and coolers, jet engine fans
plugged into generators blasted cool air; training equipment was pulled off to
the sidelines and pitched by the metal bleachers reflecting the sizzling sun
was a white tent. One of the guards detached himself from Joanna�s detail and
jogged towards the tent. The other three slowed down, Joanna followed their
lead. Under the tent sitting on cushioned wrought iron patio furniture with a
black oscillating fan on the ripple glass-topped table was Warden Hazen and
Errol Dandridge watching the practice.
�Sir?� The guard said getting
Hazen�s attention.
�What is it?� The warden asked.
�Dr. Joanna Van Arsdale is here.�
�Finally.� Hazen growled but was all
smiles the minute he saw the doctor on approach. He had to practice for his
campaign trail after all.
�Ooh my�� Errol commented bringing
his antique brass and ivory-handled opera glasses to his eyes checking Joanna
out from head to toe. He flapped his orange paper fan harder.
Joanna knew that the towering
balding gentleman standing roughly 6�7� with a slender frame that spoke of his
long ago bodybuilding days with a Lone Star and Old Glory lapel pin in a gray
suit and black and blue striped silk tie was Warden Hazen. The huge sack of
lard with stumpy legs sporting a white goatee dressed in a stereotypical southern
white seersucker and matching fedora with a heavy gold watch chain stretched tautly
across his bulging waistline with an ebony and silver walking stick leaning
against his chair told her he was some rich, capitalist pig that kissed Hazen�s
ass. And loved pecan pie too damn much.
�Dr. Joanna Van Arsdale.� Hazen said
reaching out for her hand.
�Warden Hazen.� She took it and they
shook sturdily. �I want to apologize for my tardiness. I got lost on my way� to
the penitentiary.�
�It�s already forgotten. Please sit;
you must be completely drained from this God-awful heat.� Dandridge cleared his
throat catching Hazen�s attention. �Oh! How could I forget, Doctor this is my
associate Mr. Errol Dandridge.�
�Enchanted.� Dandridge kissed
Joanna�s curled fingers with an exaggerated flourish and Joanna sat down.
�Why don�t we have a refreshment
before we get down to business.� Hazen suggested.
�Indeed.� Dandridge nodded in
assent.
�Guard!� One of the guards that
escorted Joanna was still there and hurried into the tent at the warden�s
command.
�Yes sir?�
�Go to the staff kitchen and get us
three iced tea lemonades.� Hazen ordered.
�Yes sir.� The guard vanished as
quickly as he came. Joanna hated football with a bitter passion, but she felt
she should keep that to herself as her employer and his friend conversed with
zeal over the practice scrimmage. Ten minutes later the guard returned with a
silver tray carrying three tall tumblers filled with ice and lemonade tea garnished
with mint sprigs and lemon slices.
�Thank you, guard.� Hazen said as
the tray was set down.
�Yes sir.� The guard vanished again;
Dandridge took a long sip from his straw and sighed contentedly. He looked over
at Joanna who was busy drinking her tea and pouted.
�Dr. Van Arsdale, you must be simply
baking under that jacket.� He admonished.
�Oh no, Mr. Dandridge. I�m quite
fine.� Joanna said feeling a bright flush rise up her throat that wasn�t
attributed to the heat.
�Well that simply won�t do Doctor.
Wouldn�t you agree, warden?�
�Well of course!� Hazen sounded like
her grandfather. �Doctor please remove your jacket. It is simply inhumane in
this heat, all of Allenville�s employees health is taken seriously.� Joanna was
a doe caught in headlights. She couldn�t believe that fat pervert! But as long
as the football team weren�t anywhere near her� Joanna stripped off her blazer
revealing her dressy black satin tank top with floral beadwork on the right
strap and draped it on the back of the chair. For a few minutes the three sat
silently enjoying their cold drinks when the warden addressed Joanna.
�I suppose you�re wondering Doctor,
what a football team is doing in a federal prison.�
�Well warden, you must be a relation
of The Amazing Kreskin.� Joanna quipped. Hazen and Dandridge let loose a jolly
laugh.
�That�s quite good.� Hazen flicked
away a tear. �Well I�ll start it like this, where did you attend university?�
�The University of Miami.� Joanna
said proudly.
�It seems warden we have another Floridian in our mist.�
Dandridge said.
�The Miami Hurricanes, the winners
of five national titles: �83, �87, �89, �91 and 2001 making it the winningest
college football program in the last quarter century. Since 1983, no school has
won more national championships, won a higher percentage of its games, or
produced more first round NFL draft picks than Miami.� Hazen said.
�I believe you.� Joanna said not
knowing or giving a damn about what Hazen was on about.
�But have you ever wondered what
happens to all the college stars that don�t make the NFL cut? The great state
of Texas,� Hazen explained, �along with other states across the country started
The All Prison Semi-Pro Football League. It has quite an impressive following,
feel free to check out our revamped website.�
�Prison Fantasy Football, quite
challenging!� Dandridge threw in.
�We recruit talented college players
that were skipped over by the NFL scouts for whatever reason and offer them a
job, money, security and most importantly to them and to us to play football
with the big boys.�
�So Warden Hazen, you�re telling me,�
Joanna said, �that all your correctional officers are football players?�
�That�s right.� Hazen flashed her a
thousand-watt smile. �But mind you, all of these men are professionals.
Correctional officers are a vital part of law enforcement.�
�We also feel that their prowess on
the field gives them the edge when they�re on the clock, that is.� Dandridge said.
�Especially during riot control.�
Hazen groused.
Just then something red flashed in
the corner of Joanna�s eye. Neither Hazen nor Dandridge noticed when she rose
from her seat and inched closer to the white line.
�DOWN! SET! HUT! WHITE 50! WHITE 50!
HUT! HUT! HUT!� The ball was snapped, the quarterback pulled back going long
and released the ball with the force of a catapult. Hazen and Dandridge�s
banter was cut short when the fat man pointed with his fan to the mesmerized
Joanna toeing her way to the line. Hazen�s brow creased as he saw her intensely
tracking the number 19 red jersey.
This
could be easier than I thought.
�I couldn�t help but notice Doctor,
but would you be a football fan? If you are, that�s so good to know.� Joanna
didn�t hear Hazen�s gushing because she was in a time warp back to her freshman
year at the University of Miami. That same number 19 red jersey jogged up to
her on the sidelines, pulled off his helmet and shook out his matted red hair.
�You must be Snow White, �cause I�m
your Prince Charming.�
Joanna let go of that breath caught
in her throat and prayed to every god she�d ever heard of that it wasn�t true.
�I see your admiring our star
quarterback.� Hazen said. �Well, as you might now, the quarterback is usually
the team�s pride and joy. He holds the rank of captain both on an� off the
field, number 19-�
�Brian Knauer.� Joanna finished for
Hazen. There was another pause and the warden and his friend exchanged stunned
looks. Hazen did a thorough background check on Joanna but he abided by a
strict policy of not delving so deep into another�s personal life. Nothing so
personal could be useful to him while he was still only the warden of a federal
prison.
�You- you know Captain Knauer?� Dandridge asked her. He got no response,
Joanna tuned them out and Hazen started getting a bit wary. He ran over to the
coaches and told them to stop the game. The head coach blew his whistle, stuck
one finger in the air and made a rotating gesture with his arm.
�BRING IT IN ASSHOLES! THE WARDEN
WANTS YA!�
All but Knauer ran in the direction
of their glowering warden. �Straighten up! Take off those goddamn helmets!�
Hazen barked. A series of low groans emitted from the wall of cement heads but
they did as they were told. �This here is Dr. Joanna Van Arsdale.� Hazen
indicated to Joanna. �She is Allenville�s new attending physician, and you will show her the utmost respect.�
Guard Lambert squinted and tilted
his head inspecting the doctor. �Joanna Van Arsdale?� He stepped closer to her
and looked her over carefully. After a long moment his face split into a huge
grin. �HEY! It�s Jo-Jo! Hey Dunham!�
�What?� Griped the bald defenseman.
�Look who it is!� Lambert grabbed
Joanna�s arm like she was a rag doll and pushed her in front of Dunham. �It�s
Joanna you dumbass! You remember Jo-Jo from Miami.� Dunham smirked and finally
recognized her.
�You�re shittin� me!� He circled
her, eyeballing her. �Well, well, well� Jo-Jo all grown up! How ya been
babycakes?� She didn�t retort because she hadn�t heard a word of the entire
exchange between her former classmates, Joanna looked right through all those
men all the way to the other end of the green. She pushed her way through as
though they were tall reeds in the swamp behind her childhood home in Florida,
not the holy terrors of muscle and sinew they believed themselves to be. Even
in the heels she wore, she put speed on it and ran towards where Knauer was
meeting with the coaches.
Knauer held a small plastic
whiteboard and passed a black dry-erase marker back and forth with the coaches
designing strategies. One of the trainers dressed in the Allenville midnight
blue Bermuda shorts and polo shirt kit looked up and saw Joanna standing a half
a dozen feet away from them with the most bereft look on her face.
�C- Captain Knauer�� The trainer
said pointing to Joanna.
�What?� Knauer said irately. He
followed the trainer�s finger and laid his sights on Joanna. He lowered his
arms slowly as his brain registered her. He shoved the whiteboard into the
trainer�s belly, rubbing some of the marker into his shirt and stepped
carefully towards Joanna. �Joanna?� She continued to look at Knauer with that
same expression. �It�s you� you�re really here!� Knauer was ecstatic. �Baby!
It�s me, Brian! What�re you doing here, baby?� Joanna drank him all in: the red
hair (although she saw that faint bald spot in the back), sun bronzed skin,
perfect toned body with those big, beautiful arms that held her so tight and of
course his eyes. Well they just gave away all his secrets. �Joanna baby, say
somethin� honey.� Knauer pleaded caressing her cheeks with his fingers. Joanna
always felt dwarfed by him especially when he was in his protective gear, like
now, even though she stood 5�8�. �Joanna�� Knauer breathed and just as he was
about to let his lips fall on hers she shoved him backward rocking him on those
fancy white cleats but she regretted she didn�t have the strength to knock him
flat on his ass.
Knauer stood there gawking like a
fish as Joanna turned round and ran back to Hazen�s tent casting the dirtiest
look over her shoulder at him. If Knauer thought they were just going to simply
pick up where she dumped him 20 years ago and dive between the sheets- hell fucking no!
Joanna plowed through the
pigskin-worshipping dunderheads knocking them around looking like bobble heads
on a dashboard and marched up to Hazen now seated with a scrutinizing look in
his eye behind steepled fingers. Dandridge no longer flapped his fan instead
held it tight in one pudgy fist watching Joanna charily. Joanna adopted a
stance that Lambert, Dunham and Knauer having gotten himself on the scene were
familiar with; she stood with her feet shoulder-width apart and arms akimbo.
�Alright let�s cut the Southern
Hospitality bullshit, warden. What do you want?� Hazen calmly put down his
right leg he had crossed over his left and stood, Joanna never broke her gaze
from his. He liked that insolent fearlessness; she would be fun to break. Hazen reached inside his jacket and pulled out a
folded computer printout from the silk lining�s pocket. He read from it aloud.
�Joanna Celeste Van Arsdale, born
July 6 Jacksonville, Florida. Parents: Dr. Quentin Van Arsdale and Dr. Eugenia
Benton-Van Arsdale. Tell me Doctor, did your parents inspire you to become a
physician?�
�The Van Arsdales have a long
tradition of entering the medicinal field.� Joanna told Hazen.
�It also says here that your parents
are both deceased. How did this happen?� Hazen�s line of questioning seemed
redundant and prying but Joanna knew that he was supplying his guards with
ammunition.
�House fire. My parents were asleep,
there was nothing left.�
�But you�re here, alive and well.�
Hazen pointed out.
�University of Miami, spring term of
my freshman year. I lived in the dorms, but had it been between semesters I
would have been at home.�
�Quite a star you were born under
Dr. Van Arsdale.� Hazen commented. Knauer remembered that funeral; it was the
first he ever attended. It was in an Old Dutch Reformed Church, the pair of
bronze closed caskets side by side in the nave as the minister spoke over them
from the pulpit in a language that sounded a little like German. But what he
remembered most were the Bentleys and Mercedes that were parked out front, the
men�s soft leather shoes and silky, frilly dresses on the women. He knew
Joanna�s parents hated him, the Gainesville football punk who only made it to
college on an athletic scholarship.
His mama told him not to go, �Them
people are heathens Brian. They don�t believe in no Bible.�
�And when was the last time we been
in church, mama? They�re just rich is all. But soon I�ll be worth more �an them
put together.�
They thought he wasn�t good enough
for their Roman columns and stain-glass windows, crystal dangling from the
ceilings and the marble staircase. Then again they didn�t really know their
child, no parent does and that�s just the way it goes. They didn�t know how
Joanna begged him, they didn�t know
how Joanna screamed for him and they
didn�t know the kind of noise they made that first night- on the second date
and all fucking night- that nearly got them thrown out of the dorm. They didn�t
know.
�After graduating from Stanton
College Preparatory School you went on to the University of Miami and were the
valedictorian.� Hazen continued.
�Quite the bean in that pretty
head.� Dandridge said, but quickly shut his trap when Knauer glared down at
him.
�Then
from Cornell Medical School you graduated in the top two percentile. This is a
very impressive track record Dr. Van Arsdale. You do your family proud.� Hazen
said.
�Thank you Warden Hazen.� Joanna
replied evenly.
�But this is fairly common among
your peers, Doctor. Ultimately this isn�t why I selected you from the hundreds
of prospects I researched.�
�Then why did you select me, Warden
Hazen?� Joanna asked.
�Here�s where things get
interesting.� Hazen tapped the printout in a specific spot. �It says here that
you did your residency at the Martin Luther King Jr. /Drew Medical Center.�

�I did.� Joanna said.
�I�m curious Doctor.� Hazen said
walking up to her. �Why would a girl from a fine family in Jacksonville do her
residency in,� and Hazen sneered, �Compton?� What Joanna wanted to do was spit
in Hazen�s serpentine face and say, It�s
because I came from a fine family in Jacksonville. But she would be taking
the low road, a road all these Texan boys who hated her well traveled.
�King/Drew during its prime was a
fine teaching hospital for the Charles R. Drew University of Medicine and
Science. Because of it�s locale in the high crime rate area between Compton and
Watts it has a very active trauma center. I specifically requested to do my
residency there for that reason.� Joanna explained in a highly controlled tone.
�I hear they�re having a bit of
trouble with the hospital now.� Hazen said.
�They want to shut the trauma center
down. They�re under funded and frankly the hospital has a high mortality rate
for its patients.� Joanna was disheartened by that fact.
�Do you honestly expect anything
more from places like that, Doctor?� Hazen scoffed in his high-handed Texas
manner. �You also did a stint in the Red Cross for the Royal Victoria Hospital,
in Northern Ireland. Anything in particular intrigue you about Belfast at that
time, Doctor?�
�Ever read the book Bloody Sunday, warden?� Joanna asked.
�Can�t say that I have.� Hazen said.
�You can learn a lot about yourself
when you�re entrenched in urban combat.� Joanna proudly stated. �The apartment
I lived in was situated on a street called the Green Line between Irish
Nationalist and British Loyalist factions. Gunfire, bombings all that was
pretty common. The intersection where I had to get the bus to work was called
Sniper Crossing because snipers would use that as their targeting range.�
�Like it hot?� Hazen asked with a
friendly grin on his face.
�Can�t say The Troubles are
uninteresting, warden.�
�What was your function at the Royal
Victoria Hospital, doctor?� Ah, now Hazen was leading her somewhere.
�Because of my residency at
King/Drew I was a trauma specialist at The Royal�s Accident and Emergency. I
also worked in a triage unit working in conjunction with the Knights of Malta
pulling bodies off the street during skirmishes, treating the injured, seeing
who was expectant and bagging the corpses.� Knauer was beside himself. There
was no way in hell that Joanna would
have done anything remotely like that had they not broken up. South Central L.A.?
Belfast? Did she have a death wish?
�I take it you must�ve acquired
numerous skills working in compromised areas like that.� Hazen asked with a
furtive gleam in his eye.
�I would say so, warden.� Joanna
confirmed.
�Such as?� Hazen was going to
tighten the rope a whole lot harder before he released it.
�The Royal is the world�s premier
facility for treating gunshot wounds. They have made world-class advancement in
the field of arthroscopic surgery because of kneecapping.� Hazen stopped Joanna
when he raised a finger to her.
�And that is what no one else could
offer this prison. Your skilled surgeon�s hands Dr. Van Arsdale. The state of
Texas has poured in millions of tax dollars into this little Shangri-La when I
took over as warden. And contrary to popular belief, I hadn�t forgotten the
medical personnel. The primary issue of course is the health care of the
inmates, and for that I built a state-of-the-art infirmary that will allow you
to treat several patients at time. On the other matter regarding my semi-pro
football team,� Hazen took her by the shoulders and turned her round to face
them, �I have given you a fully-quipped surgery to keep them in pristine
condition- knees, elbows, ankles and everything in between will be left in your
care.�
Joanna was so shocked she couldn�t
formulate a response in her brain. There was a reason why athletes at a certain
age retire, the sport catches up to them. Now she wasn�t sure if this was the
team�s forever 21 mentality or they were greatly influenced by the warden, but
it was a good bet to say it was a little of both.
�Now you have staff of six and they,
like you, have passed a rigorous screening process. I will leave it up to your
discretion as to how you run your staff, I am giving you a lot of latitude here
doctor.� Hazen said. �However, if a problem should arise concerning the
performance of my men on the field or you need something, you will come to me. Also
every six months we have an employee�s evaluation, and new arrivals are put to
the test. Whatever happens, big or small, it will come up.� Joanna�s suspicions
were confirmed, she would be watched. Joanna retrieved her jacket and
briefcase.
�I would like to see my infirmary
now, Warden Hazen.� He politely gestured for her to precede him.
�Joanna!� Knauer called out to her
in one last ditch attempt at reaching her. Joanna stopped short and looked over
her shoulder at him briefly and walked away.
�That�s cold, Jo-Jo.� Lambert said.
�Haven�t changed much have ya,
Joanna.� Dunham remarked. �Still thinks she�s better than everybody. Ice bitch
cometh!�
The coach blew his whistle formally
ending practice and the team began dispersing, heading off the field to hit the
showers. Knauer just stood there staring off in the direction Joanna vanished
in, thoughts dancing around in his head. He�d never felt her anger so
powerfully before. Sure they had fights, what couple didn�t. But in the end
when he came back to the apartment that day to see her stuff cleaned out with a
folded note taped to his football of all things that simply said, �I�m sorry. I
can�t do this anymore.� And that last look she gave him just reinforced that.
�Don�t worry about it, Brian.�
Papajohn, the safety said.
�Used goods anyway, my man.� Garner
chuckled smacking Knauer in the arm playfully with his helmet.

TBC
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