Defiance

The real pleasure was not the challenge, it was the danger. I felt like an international spy as I lightly tapped the shoulder of my partner in crime. A hand reached slowly behind his back as I slipped the folded paper into his hand. His head remained stable and focused forward as he withdrew his hand with the crucial information. Prison is no place for the weak. Defiance is necessary for freedom.

 

After a few furtive glances downward he swiftly made a quick erasure and then executed a quick notation. The behind the back handoff was made as I grabbed the folded paper to determine my future plans.

 

A quick study of the document suggested potential danger ahead. I need to be prepared for a potential significant attack. Our clandestine communications have been secure and uncompromised to date without the knowledge of the true common enemy pacing before us. The formidable Guard stood firmly erect as he constantly scanned the crowd before him. He continued his exposition regarding the strengths and weaknesses of the nation. Though he was clear and organized in his speech, he was simultaneously searching for rebellion.

 

The thought that the Guard had thus far been defeated in his search for subversives was a source of great satisfaction. He was a formidable enemy. Although we are all prisoners, at least our minds are free to wander from confinement.

 

I don’t know if it was my eye movement, the slight adjustment of my chair or the slow wearing of the eraser on my pencil over the past half hour- but whatever it was, my heart raced and I nearly fell unconscious as his voice boomed, “What’s that in your hand Mr. Schofield”.

 

Recalling the Geneva Convention I responded, “Nothing”. I suspect he had superpowers because he seemed to instantly float above his desk and down the aisle to my side. There was no escape. The game was over. He glanced at the wrinkled paper and pronounced my fate, “It looks like you have been checkmated. See me after Social Studies class Mr. Schofield”.

 

I don’t know which would be worse- the detention or his belittling commentary on my chess playing prowess. I’ll find out soon. Prisoners have no rights.