Charles looked out the window of the Bentley without expression as his driver pulled to a stop in front of the Hampstead Correctional Facility for Girls.
“This shouldn’t take long, James. Come back in 45 minutes,” Charles said.
The driver nodded his head, “Of course, Mr. Charles.”
Charles strolled up the stairs of the entrance in his long cashmere jacket, oblivious to how out of place he looked entering the dingy brick building with iron grates over the windows. He signed in at the front desk, and a guard quickly ushered him into the office of the facility’s director.
Helen Mosby stood behind her desk and gave Charles a tight-lipped smile as he came through the door. He shook her languid, outstretched hand. It was like squeezing a cold fish. He immediately disliked Ms. Mosby and knew he must do everything in his power to accomplish the objective which brought him to Hampstead in the first place.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Ms. Mosby,” Charles said respectfully.
“Not at all, Mr. Charles. To what do I owe this honor? I know you are a busy man, and I’m not sure I understand why you would take time out of your day to visit a correctional facility for girls,” Ms. Mosby said with a slight sneer.
“Well,” he began, “The case of one of your newest girls, Shannon Kelly, was brought to my attention by one of my assistants, and I thought maybe I could intervene, and propose a solution to her detainment that will be more amenable to both her and your facility.”
“Shannon Kelly is a danger to society. A mere 13 years old, and she’s already showing signs of what she will one day become: at best, a menace, and at worst, a terrorist. Why are you so interested in her?” Ms. Mosby asked, the suspicion in her voice unmistakable.
“Ma’am, she has made some questionable decisions, but scientific research has proven that a girl her age does not fully comprehend the significance of her actions, and the long-term consequences. Her frontal cortex, responsible for helping to control all of those impulses, will not be fully developed for several more years. It is inhumane for you to keep her in solitary confinement when she does not fully understand the implications of her actions.”
Ms. Mosby gasped in outrage. “How did you know she’s been in solitary?! And even if it’s true, what business is it of yours? How we deal with our girls is left to our own discretion. She’s a troublemaker!”
“Ms. Mosby, I will not pretend that her offenses are slight. Producing anthrax in her garage, milling it into a powder and sending envelopes of it through the mail endangered the lives of many, but if you look at WHO she sent it to: her ex-boyfriend, the Pittsburgh Steelers training camp, Miley Cyrus… Her choices of who to target are consistent with that of any 13 year old girl… with an interest in football… who hates bad movies and bubblegum pop music. My point is, her motivations are not those of someone who is a danger to our country or national security.”
“I would disagree with you on that,” she huffed indignantly.
“The important thing is that no one was hurt. Fortunately, her knowledge, skills and resources at age 13 were not sufficient for her to produce anything very virulent. But don’t you see that what she was able to accomplish is a sign of a brilliant mind? Only 13, with so much intelligence and curiosity. If you would let me take her as my charge and enroll her at my academy for gifted and talented young women, I could nurture her, give her an appropriate forum in which to develop her talent and express it… With such astounding talents redirected towards more appropriate avenues, don’t you see the possibilities? Shannon could cure cancer or AIDS. She could do great things. I know it,” Charles said, passionately.
“Mr. Charles, your interest in these young women… frankly, it’s suspicious… the propriety is questionable… and it’s a little creepy…” she sniffed.
Charles sighed. “Is it a matter of resources then? Money? I know Hampstead has neither. I would like to become Shannon’s legal guardian, and her parents have already agreed that if I am able to get her out of here, they will sign papers to that effect. They are acting in her best interest. I wish you would, too.”
Ms. Mosby fidgeted with the balled up tissue in her sleeve, but said nothing.
“So, it is a money thing?” Charles reached into the chest pocket of his jacket and pulled out a checkbook and a pen. “How much do you want? $100,000? A donation of that magnitude would go a long way in helping to renovate this facility…”
Ms. Mosby sat up straighter, and leaned in toward Charles. “Make it $125,000 and she can return with you to your academy by the end of the week.”
Charles smiled. He had gotten off cheaper than he had expected. He wrote the check and signed it with a flourish. He handed it to her “It’s been a pleasure, Ms. Mosby, I will iron out details with you later this evening. Good day.”
And with that, he swooped out of the room, and out of the building, happy to see that his silver Bentley had never left its spot in front of the entrance. “Home please, James.”
“Of course, sir,” said James, smiling into the rearview mirror.
the steelers definitely deserve it. roethlisberger, anyway.
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