Unsteady Alliances
600 words about Mahone for pamalax just 'cause she deserves it.
As the rain plasters my hair to my scalp and I see Scofield climbing out of the other van, my heart races with realization. He put me here, but somehow he was unable to escape it himself.
Burrows isn’t here, though, and that’s something for Scofield, I’m sure. He set out to free his brother, and in some way he accomplished his goal.
So much about him became clear to me because we’re so similar; sacrificing for those we love, continually trying to set it right, but we’re both here in darkness, in this place, paying for our sins anyway.
*
In Sona, we don’t talk about our unlikely alliance. We simply move together, establish boundaries and protect each other without need for explanation. We’re too similar to not bond together and fight the other unruly elements.
We both saw Brad Bellick’s body dragged out the day after we arrived, and we knew the only way to prevent our own comparable removal was to watch each other’s back.
I think about Pam and Cameron every minute of every day that we aren’t busy with erecting barriers between us and the other prisoners.
And I wonder what motivation Scofield focuses on.
*
The day he says to me in a low, husky voice, “Escape,” I simply turn to him and say, “How?”
He’s already worked out an intricate plan, but what strikes me as he lays it out is that it’s flawless. It won’t be without casualties, just like his other plan, but there is something poetic in watching the workings of his mind as his words construct behind my eyes.
We wait, watchfully, methodically eliminating those who won’t be of use or help to the plan. When we know whom we will enlist, we separate and conquer each one individually.
*
When my feet hit the ground, they run without stopping. We had agreed the only way to go was that way, without looking back, without considering each other.
I know he helped me because I was the only one who could help him. He put me there, and he didn’t willingly set me free. He only saw his means of escape through me, and I have to give him credit for not sticking to his principles in a matter that would serve no one.
I deserved to be in Sona, not for drug trafficking, but for many other things.
*
On a beautiful beach, she says she loves me no matter what. She says she understands why I broke her heart again and again, but she also knows I wouldn’t have done anything without a good reason.
She reminds me that once upon a time that was actually true. I love her even more for her willingness to forgive.
We make love for the first time in over three years, and like a starving man, I can’t get close enough, deep enough, far enough inside her to quench the hunger.
For some reason it feels like she’s fading away.
*
Before she leaves, she places lingering kisses on my mouth, telling me she’ll go get Cam so we’ll be a family again.
When the authorities show up in Colombia to arrest me, I know she didn’t do anything without good reason. When I beg to know that my family is all right, the Feds tell me, “Of course they’re fine, it was Mrs. Mahone, after all, who helped us find you.”
Months later, I learn to forgive her. A letter comes to Fox River Penitentiary; inside it is a photo of Pamala, Cameron and a new baby, called Alexander.
As the rain plasters my hair to my scalp and I see Scofield climbing out of the other van, my heart races with realization. He put me here, but somehow he was unable to escape it himself.
Burrows isn’t here, though, and that’s something for Scofield, I’m sure. He set out to free his brother, and in some way he accomplished his goal.
So much about him became clear to me because we’re so similar; sacrificing for those we love, continually trying to set it right, but we’re both here in darkness, in this place, paying for our sins anyway.
*
In Sona, we don’t talk about our unlikely alliance. We simply move together, establish boundaries and protect each other without need for explanation. We’re too similar to not bond together and fight the other unruly elements.
We both saw Brad Bellick’s body dragged out the day after we arrived, and we knew the only way to prevent our own comparable removal was to watch each other’s back.
I think about Pam and Cameron every minute of every day that we aren’t busy with erecting barriers between us and the other prisoners.
And I wonder what motivation Scofield focuses on.
*
The day he says to me in a low, husky voice, “Escape,” I simply turn to him and say, “How?”
He’s already worked out an intricate plan, but what strikes me as he lays it out is that it’s flawless. It won’t be without casualties, just like his other plan, but there is something poetic in watching the workings of his mind as his words construct behind my eyes.
We wait, watchfully, methodically eliminating those who won’t be of use or help to the plan. When we know whom we will enlist, we separate and conquer each one individually.
*
When my feet hit the ground, they run without stopping. We had agreed the only way to go was that way, without looking back, without considering each other.
I know he helped me because I was the only one who could help him. He put me there, and he didn’t willingly set me free. He only saw his means of escape through me, and I have to give him credit for not sticking to his principles in a matter that would serve no one.
I deserved to be in Sona, not for drug trafficking, but for many other things.
*
On a beautiful beach, she says she loves me no matter what. She says she understands why I broke her heart again and again, but she also knows I wouldn’t have done anything without a good reason.
She reminds me that once upon a time that was actually true. I love her even more for her willingness to forgive.
We make love for the first time in over three years, and like a starving man, I can’t get close enough, deep enough, far enough inside her to quench the hunger.
For some reason it feels like she’s fading away.
*
Before she leaves, she places lingering kisses on my mouth, telling me she’ll go get Cam so we’ll be a family again.
When the authorities show up in Colombia to arrest me, I know she didn’t do anything without good reason. When I beg to know that my family is all right, the Feds tell me, “Of course they’re fine, it was Mrs. Mahone, after all, who helped us find you.”
Months later, I learn to forgive her. A letter comes to Fox River Penitentiary; inside it is a photo of Pamala, Cameron and a new baby, called Alexander.