“You don’t know that. I am your mother. I will do anything for you. You say the word and I will make it happen,” I said, meaning that for the first time in my whole life. Tyler let out a long string of air with his nose.
“I don’t want to talk about this with you mama,” he responded.
“You got some place to be?” I asked. I wasn’t going to let him off the hook. Tyler was quiet for a long time. His eyes cast down again, no longer looking at me. I wondered if he was just going to sit in silence until I gave up. I had opened my mouth to try to push him along, when he started talking again. It was barely above a whisper.
“I went into jail when I was 18 years old. Haven’t been out since. By the time I was arrested… I ain’t never been with a woman. Got close a couple times, but it ain’t never happened. Can’t happen now. They are going to kill me and I will die a virgin. That’s something I always wanted to do, something I could kind of understand, but I haven’t been able to do it since I was in here. And, like I said, you can’t help with that. And, honestly, I don’t really like talking to you about it. So let’s just talk about something else.”
Tyler’s cheeks grew red as he talked about the subject of sex. I guess I was a bit surprised by the whole thing. I don’t know if I just always assumed he had had sex at least once in the past or something. More likely than not, I just didn’t think about my son in that way. Which, with getting knocked up young myself, just showed again how terrible I’d been as a mother. But the more I thought about it, the less surprised I felt, and the more sympathy I felt for Tyler. I always knew that there was stuff he missed out on because he was in jail. But sex… I mean how could any red-blooded boy live without that? How had he missed out on something so important? And the guilt came back on me, thicker than before. Because this, just like everything else, was my fault. I sat stewing in it for a long time, my eyes resting on my son.
Saying what happened next was a plan would be giving me too much credit. I didn’t think about what I was doing. Hell, I didn’t even realize I was moving until I was already standing up next to the table. It was like something had grabbed ahold of me and it was pushing me forward, making me do what was next. I don’t know… all I know is that each movement I made seemed to loosen up the guilt that I was feeling. I wasn’t completely in control of myself then. But I am responsible for what happened, and I accept that.
I was wearing what my mama would call “church clothes” as I always did when I went to the prison. It was a somewhat billowy white blouse, buttoned all the way to my throat and a tucked into a long, gray skirt. As I stood, my hands reached up to the buttons on my blouse and began to slowly fiddle with them. At first, Tyler didn’t even seem to notice. But as I unhooked the button directly between my breasts, he turned to me. His eyes grew wide and his brow furrowed.
“Mama?” he asked, “What the hell are you doing?” He sounded shocked, and continued to look at my fingers. I didn’t stop moving. I began working my blouse out of my skirt as I continued to unhook buttons.
“Don’t worry Tyler,” my voice came out sounding calm, soothing. I was a bit surprised, because I realized my heart was thrumming like a violin string. “I can do this for you.” It was only then that I really recognized what I was doing. I was taking my clothes off. I was going to give my son what he’d just asked for. The realization should’ve made me sick. Should’ve made me stop. It was wrong to do that.
But I didn’t feel that way at all. In fact, I felt good when I realized what I was doing. I felt the guilt loosen up on me a little bit. There was something that Tyler needed. Something that he wanted. And, for the first time in years, I was in a spot where I could do something for him about it. I couldn’t make up for all the wrong I done Tyler. But I could do this one thing for him. And I wouldn’t feel ashamed of that. All things considered… it was right.
Now, I am the first to admit that the situation wasn’t ideal. He should’ve had a pretty young girl his own age to be with the first time. It should’ve happened on his senior prom night, or something like that. But I couldn’t get another girl in here. And I wouldn’t have a chance to do this again. And, you know, I knew I wasn’t so bad. Like I said, I was young when I had Tyler. I wasn’t an old woman yet by a long stretch. And people always told me I looked younger than I was. Men said I looked good. I was a short woman, 5’2 or so. Petite would be the word to describe me. I didn’t weigh much. My breasts were small and stayed up high on my chest, helping to me look young. I had a flat belly, even though I didn’t exercise or nothing. A round bottom, not particularly thick but not bony neither. Thin, but not spindly, arms and legs. My face was still pretty too. I had big blue eyes, a small nose, and thick lips around a wide mouth (boyfriend once said my lips would reach my ears if I ever smiled big enough. Never did). My ears were big like Tyler’s, but they were mostly covered by the long, dirty blonde hair that hung halfway down my back in very loose waves. Tyler’s friend’s used to tease him because his mama was ‘hot’ back when he was a kid. I couldn’t give Tyler the woman he deserved, but what I was offering any other man in the prison would surely take.
I got my blouse all the way unbuttoned and pulled out from my skirt. It flapped open slightly, exposing my pink bra. The room air in the prison room felt cold against my skin. Tyler rose quickly now and took a half step towards me. His eyes were wide and nervous, he glanced over at the door twice as he moved.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, mama!” he hissed, “have you lost your damned mind?” I didn’t pay him much attention. I looked to the side of my skirt, quickly found the zipper, and slowly started to pull it down.
“You be quiet, Tyler Jessup,” I whispered back. He stopped moving, “You said there was one thing you wanted in this world and I intended to give it to you.” Tyler’s mouth dropped open and he flopped back down into his chair. Soon the skirt was loose and I my skirt landed on the floor around my ankles.
“I didn’t ask you to do this… I was just saying…” Tyler sputtered.
“I know this isn’t just what you asked for, but this is as close as I can get Tyler. It’s gotta be better than nothing,” I explained. I reached up and started to slip the sleeves of my blouse over my right shoulder.
“Someone could come in!” Tyler said, looking at the door again.
“Keep your eyes off that door,” I said sharply, “It’s been closed all this time and no one bothered us. We have a long time ’til visiting time is over.” I didn’t even really know if I was right. I guess at any moment, a guard could come bursting in through the door, see me in my underwear, and raise holy Hell. But what more could they do to us? He was already going to be executed. I was already going to lose my boy. What did I care about being humiliated? A woman like me ain’t got no use for pride.
“Mama,” he said, “We can’t do this. Isn’t this… wrong?” As I felt the cool prison air against my bare shoulder , goosebumps raised. For the first time, I realized that I was growing nervous. Tyler’s resistance made me realize what it was I was doing. But this wasn’t about me. This was about what Tyler needed. I slipped my shirt completely off my shoulder and it fell onto the floor. Now I was wearing nothing but my bra, panties, and flats (which I kicked right off).
“It’d be wrong for you to go through your entire life and never know what it was to be with a woman. And that’s the truth,” I said, feeling how right I was in my bones. I saw Tyler’s eyes flash for a moment, but he seemed to shake it off.
“But…” he started and I raised my hand, silencing him. With my free hand, I reached around my back, slipping my fingers under the clasp of my bra and working the hooks out of the eyes.