Finger Knitting
or, What Brenda Overheard That Morning
Rina Palumbo
So, dear, it's been a few hours. And, you don't have to say anything until I ask you a question. Do you understand? I asked you a question dear.
Yeah sure, whatever.
That wasn't so hard now was it dear? Was it? So, Claudia, how far along are you?
What? How did you know? Guards tell you?
Brenda told me you were in for aggravated assault.
Yep that's me. A mother-to-be serving eight months to two years. Almost got charged with attempted manslaughter. Should have stabbed the motherfucker harder I guess.
Maybe. But you are here now. So for now, I'll tell you what to do. You will make your bed and tell me about yourself.
Whatever.
(Sighs) Mom couldn't cope with my brother and me, so she left us with Nana, but she got sick and my Uncle only wanted my brother. Got put into care about three years ago.
Carlos was already there, and we got along and decided to run away, you know just live for ourselves.
We did okay at first, lived in a house with a bunch of people. All of us doing shitty jobs, Me, I had three jobs, washing dishes at two restaurants and on a night janitor crew - mopping floors and cleaning bathrooms. Carlos did day labor stuff - mostly construction.
This guy, Jimmy, moved in a few months back, had a bunch of boys who dealt for him and a bunch of girls who worked the street. Carlos stopped going to his job and just sat around smoking, playing video games, drinking, drugs, living off Jimmy. Jimmy always had money and drugs. He would bring in new girls, and break them in. Real hero to Carlos.
When I told Carlos I was pregnant he got all excited and happy, told me that was great because Jimmy wanted to give him a job, you know, supervising and managing and stuff, so we'd get our own apartment and I wouldn't have to work no more.
Anyway, one day Jimmy brings in this girl. She was like eleven or twelve and I yelled at Carlos, no way, she's a kid and he smacked me and told me to mind my business. But I couldn't because she was just a kid, so I grabbed a knife from the sink to scare Jimmy or whatever but he grabbed my arm. Carlos grabbed me from behind and I got him in the leg. Jimmy had turned sideways so I jumped on him and slashed his chest and face and whatever else I could reach.
Carlos punched me hard and I fell back and hit my head. Last I remember was the girl crying and Carlos calling 911.
So, you ended up here. Now, what will you do?
Nothing. Have the kid, do my time, and get out. I just don't know. I don't...
Fuck it though, what's your real name, Sister, and why are you here? And what the actual fuck are you doing with that ugly yarn?
My real name doesn't matter. When I took my vows, that person died, the only thing I kept was a rosary, which I prayed with daily until I got locked away - they probably have it stored with my clothes.
I'm here because I was making Father Paul his tea like I always do, and there was such a commotion outside the rectory kitchen and I went out and I guess I forgot to turn off the gas, it's an old stove.
Father Paul must have been smoking his pipe when he walked into the kitchen because everything just went right up in flames.
So, they said I planned it, brought out all sorts of complaints I had made against Father Paul over the years.
And I'm knitting with my fingers because they won't let us have needles. I'm not even supposed to have yarn in here, but the guards take it if they want, some of them ask for something special, so it works out.
But, Claudia, you haven't answered my question. Now, what will you do?
What am I supposed to do? Get out early for good behavior, they said four months. But shit, how am I gonna take care of a baby? I got nothing. How the fuck am I gonna take care of a baby?
They said adoption is a good choice. Give the baby to a family that cares. I could make it so the kid could find me if they wanted to when they got older.
They said get my G.E.D. I never finished school, shit I barely went. Or get job training. But the only people gonna hire me are those who have the shitty jobs you don't need training for, because now I got a record. What am I supposed to do?
I don't know what you are supposed to do. I don't think we really ever have as much choice as they say. In anything. Ever.
I'm never going anywhere else. I sit and knit. It keeps my hands busy, keeps my mind occupied, helps make sense of things. I knit so I have something to show for all my sitting and thinking.
Now, what will you do?
Are you for real?
I don't even know... Seriously, you want me to start knitting? Like for real?
You mean, just like that? Like this mess is going to turn into something? You're crazy. Doing this shit isn't going to solve anything.
I'll ask you again, now what will you do?
Nothing. I'll just wait and see what happens. Just sit around here. Why don't guards let you usually keep yarn in here? It's just a bunch of string.
It is just a bunch of string. But it's what you make of it - I'm making a baby blanket for Brenda's new granddaughter. What about you?
I don't know. So you're saying take this stuff and make whatever I want? Not much to do in here is there? Like there is really nothing to do in here. Shit.
Whatever.
So, I start anywhere, anyhow?
Like that?
Yes, just like that. You begin, just like that.
Rina Palumbo
Rina Palumbo (she/her) is working on a novel and two nonfiction long-form writing projects alongside short fiction, creative nonfiction, and prose poetry. Her work appears in The Hopkins Review, Ghost Parachute, Milk Candy, Bending Genres, Identity Theory, Stonecoast Review, et al. https://rinapalumbowriter.com