Of Mothers Of Children of Razor Topped Fences

OF MOTHERS, OF CHILDREN, OF RAZOR TOPPED FENCES

Excited greetings surround the five. The man and wife in their sixties are parents of the attractive thirty-year old woman. The boy twelve, the girl eleven, of different fathers are obviously children to the young mother in blue denim trousers and jacket. The shortened hugs and kisses dodge around the grandmother who is in a wheel chair. The blond young mother is the center of attention. It is she who's trouser legs state in white letters: TN DEPT OF CORRECTIONS, the standard uniform for inmates.
There are sixteen tables and four are empty. It is twelve-thirty and past second count. Thirteen women of near four hundred will have visitors today. A table is selected and additional chairs brought up. Drew and Savannah are seated on each side of their mother. They shout the word "Mom" with pent-up ecstasy. It is a common endearment denied these children except for this monthly week-end pilgrimage, now in its seventh year.
"Deion," says Grandpa as he produces the institutional debit card, "The kids have been real good." With this mom takes the kids to the vending machines. The Correctional Officer's gaze is only slightly interested as they slowly cross the worn gymnasium floor. A certain touching, finger hair-combing, is tacitly allowed mom as she waits for the snacks and soda to vend. She may try to linger and prolong the moment but eventually they must sit back down. A holiday air sets in as Pepsi cans open and Baby Ruths are unwrapped. The plastic table's poor fare could pass for a King's feast given the joy it brings.
Mom begins rituals by giving praise to each child in turn for their school grades. Each sibling excitedly reviews the minute detail of tests, schoolmates, and episodes since their last visit. The children's incautious voices contrast to the careful words of their mother as the C.O.s look on or listen as they choose.
Grandma inquires about Deion's roommate whom she regards as another daughter in spite of never seeing her in the free world. Deion lowers her voice to confirm that Tammy's gall bladder is still painful. Wilma nods and accepts the idea of misery and helplessness as life's entitlement for some people. Tammy is promised a separate visit when the weather warms up. Wilma apologizes for her crippling arthritis then obliquely comments on the absence of heat in the gym. She echoes Billy's praise for children and states that "Drew fixes me breakfast near every day."
The good behavior of the children paves the path for their aspirations. The Queenly inmate presides over hearings as each child's goal, hope, and petition is brought forth. Deion asks questions of her parents and mediates discussion between children and grandparents. Soon Drew's bowling and sports schedule is outlined. Equipment will have to be purchased. Next comes Savannah's hopes for cheerleader. Baton lessons and gymnastics enter the conversation. There is always the subject of money and "Who'll take them to their practice?" The boy sees fit to exert his superior age and size by commenting on any detail he can. Grandparents accept mom's superior role and defer to her judgment while silently knowing it is they who must execute her plans. As the discussion of the kid's activities deepens mom's brow becomes furrowed and her voice demanding as she fights for her children's needs. Savannah’s lessons will cost her a week’s prison wages. There will be less money for clothes. Finally resolution is reached, Deion relaxes, and the children turn to her for games and play.
The gymnasium visitation area is not well stocked with playthings. Mother and son begin playing scissors, rock, paper. The petit blond girl swings her feet on the plastic lawn chair and contemplates her future on the rally squad. Soon Deion directs her attention to Savannah and the burly Drew wanders over to visit a family at another table. He is no stranger here and there are friends of common bond for this unique group of citizens. The C.O.s overlook the forbidden shift of tables for a boy of twelve. Without her brother's competition the shy girl turns bubbly and playful as mom's poking hands elicit giggles and squeals.
As visitation closing draws near the three-hour family bonding takes a melancholy tinge. Deion's hands, never in her lap, always rubbing her children, grow greedy for more touching. Grandparents look on thoughtfully, pleased to have given life once more to their own imprisoned girl. Only the children's joy eases the pain and remorse. When the guard calls out, "visitation's over" a small girl's eyes fill with tears. She bravely holds them back. The gregarious boy is oblivious to pain. In a manful stance he holds his head high, shunning his own feelings. Mom gives a parting hug and kiss which is allowed if conforming to public standards. Furtively, Deion makes a quick last minute demand; "Who loves who the most." Drew and Savannah reply dutifully "I love you the most." "No, I love you more," quips mom. Then the spell is broken and the Queen resumes her lifelong role as society's lowest. She joins her fellow prisoners against the cinderblock wall.
All smiles and waves, the women in denim with that white stripe begin filing into the departure room to be stripped naked and searched for contraband. The guard radio's the front security station, "Four freeworlds coming over," and motions the family to leave. Deion's father pushes his wife's wheelchair through the aging gymnasium door. Virtually out of habit he muses self-consciously "If we could have afforded a lawyer," and the children pass between razor topped fences to silently exit their mother's home.