While Olivia bought two tickets for a horror movie, I frowned, noticing that Theresa was unusually quiet.
“Is everything okay, doll?”
She shrugged, her brow furrowing. “Same as usual,” she muttered, without giving us a single glance. “People think they can mistreat us just because of the color of our skin.”
I looked at Olivia with concern, not quite sure how to respond to that.
“Who offended you, Theresa?” Liv asked, and I could tell from her serious expression that she had gone into herDistrict Attorney mode. “Racial discrimination is a crime, and I won’t hesitate to put any idiot behind bars.”
Theresa laughed, shaking her head, before looking at Olivia and giving her a wink.
“Are you going to arrest Senator Jones for calling me a ‘fucking nigger’?” Olivia and I stiffened at the sound of that, swallowing hard. Theresa shook her head. “That's what I thought.”
“I'd love to, Theresa,” Olivia defended herself. “But...”
"But nobody messes with politicians. Not even our District Attorney.“
I shifted uncomfortably, noticing the remorse on Olivia's face. “I'm sorry, Theresa…” I decided to say, even though I knew my words were worthless.
Theresa sighed and waved her hand in the air. “Forget it, I'm used to it and I believe in the good Lord! Hah! His justice never fails!“ She hummed, saying a few prayers. “Go on, go enjoy your movie!”
We entered the cinema room in a silence that we both understood very well.
I lived under the senator's resentful yoke, serving my sentence for Lester's death. And Olivia, despite having studied law for so many years, was frequently forced to put up with her. From political pressure to personal attacks for being my friend, there was a silent war between them that made me feel extremely guilty.
Nevertheless, nothing justified Madeleine Jones' constant abuse.
Her behavior didn't come from a place of pain or frustration, grief or unhappiness. Nothing like that. And I, more than any other person in Silver River, knew it. Her behavior was old, like a piece of mold spreading over the years and deteriorating everything it touched.
As we sat in the movie theater seats, my brain rewound to the conversations I shared with Lester so many years ago.
The funny story about his surname, how the lady at the registry office registered his father with his grandfather's nickname, ‘Fury’, instead of Mitchels, the real family name. His childhood memories between Boston and Blue Forge after his parents' divorce. And especially his venting, mostly related to his mother.
Lester confided to me how easy it was for the senator to cross boundaries and how that almost destroyed his father. Madeleine Jones never permitted weaknesses or anything that contradicted her high moral standards, and Lester's father, Conrad Fury, hadalways been too tormented by the horrors of war to fit into her perfect mold. She pushed her husband to participate in her social and political life, ignored his mental state after troubled operations, and often used cruel language to belittle him. Conrad Fury only managed to regain his manhood, not after the divorce, but by fleeing far away from her, to Wyoming.
Lester and I had that in common, in a way.
My Papa had also been in the military and suffered something similar. He lived in constant terror for what he had done and witnessed during his missions, and while he was married to my Ma, that only got worse. Even so, she never did half of what Madeleine Jones did to her husband. I could only imagine how much the senator's erratic behavior must have hurt Lester's father.
But truth be told, I had gotten a taste of that cruelty in recent years.
I would always blame myself for what happened to Lester, even though, I knew perfectly well that what Madeleine Jones was doing to me was wrong. The constant harassment, the attacks on people I cared about, it almost bordered on obsession.
Then there was her behavior towards other people. Except for politicians and other prominent figures, Senator Jones treated everyone in Silver River like vermin, feeling entitled to belittle and mistreat those she considered beneath her.
The situation with Theresa was a perfect translation of that, though it was nothing new. I still remembered Juan Miguel, a Mexican man who used to sell tamales on the streets of SilverRiver. He was the most adorable person on the planet, a little sixty-five-year-old man who always had a smile for everyone. Unfortunately, Senator Jones considered his humble tamale stand an illegal business and did everything she could to have him and his entire family deported, but not before hurling a torrent of racist insults at him, leaving the man sobbing like a child in the middle of the street.
God bless America, I guess...
“The senator is pressuring me to reopen a ten-year-old case with a sentence already handed down.”
I immediately turned my face toward Olivia. The room was completely dark, the movie hadn't started yet, but she was staring at the screen. Her voice coming out in whispers.
“Is that possible?” I asked.
She shrugged. “It depends on many factors. Not impossible, but not easy either.” She confessed. “The thing is,Idon’t want to.”
I slowly shook my head, facing forward and absorbing the information. “It’s all my fault, Liv.”