No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

One good deed changes a woman's life, but not for the better.

by Mongoose750 (mongoose750@yahoo.com)

Once upon a time in Indiana, a sensei taught a class that contained four women who became the top of the class, masters of their art. Three became teachers while the fourth was . . . imprisoned, wrongly incarcerated, arrested for doing the right thing. Now she waited for the day when the truth would be revealed, and she'll be free once again.

But that's a little too far in the story. It would be best if it was started at the beginning.

Sharon Barusta was a wild girl. An attractive young Filipino in her late teens or early twenties (depending on who asked), she flipped the bird to all authority and spent every waking moment of the day in a continuous party. That came to an end one day when she met a tall, dark, and handsome Filipino man who won his way into her heart, and shortly into her bedroom after a night at the local nightclub. They were inseparable, until she discovered she was pregnant.

As expected, her parents were angry, and her fair-weather friends wagged their fingers at her. As for the father-to-be, who's name was Ramon, he shown Sharon that not only was he good at romance, he also had a talent for running, and sped out of her life faster than a contender for the Indianapolis 500.

In Sharon's mind, the only way she could have those glory days back was to terminate the pregnancy. One day, unknown to her parents, she visited the abortion clinic. While there, they pointed out a "safe" method of abortion that involved injecting saline into the womb, killing the fetus with no harmful side effects. Sharon told them to do it, she didn't want this burden any longer.

They performed the procedure once, twice, and a third time. Sharon sensed something was wrong. The doctor shook his head, and told her the baby somehow managed to avoid the saline. Sharon was shocked, but declined a fourth injection, saying that she was meant to have this child.

The baby was a beautiful, healthy girl named Caroline. Everyone thought she was cute, and Sharon's parents acted like any other new grandparents, and pampered the new child.

A few years later, it happened again. By this time, Sharon found work at an assembly plant that paid good money. She and Caroline (who was three at this time) moved into their own place. Being a single mother was difficult at times, but she considered Caroline as a blessing; a ray of light from an otherwise dismal past. An old friend of hers from the old days set her up on a blind date with another handsome Filipino man. Unlike the last man, he wasn't quite as tall, but he was a charmer. Not long after he charmed her off her feet, he charmed her right back into her bedroom. Soon, she discovered history repeated itself, and she was pregnant again. As much as Caroline longed for a little sister, Sharon was not ready nor did she think she was able to take care of another mouth to feed. Meanwhile, the man, who's name was Manuel, did his best impersonation of Houdini, and escaped.

One day she went back down to the abortion clinic, and arranged to have the pregnancy terminated again by saline injection. When she discovered the fetus again miraculously escaped the first injection, she didn't stick around for a second; she got up and left. When the doctor told her a second injection would be successful, Sharon replied that this was a sign that she was meant to have this baby, like the last one.

When she got home, Sharon fell on her knees pleading to God for forgiveness, and promised to turn her life around. The first thing she did was drop her old friends and made some new ones. The second thing was to attend church again, where she eventually met a decent man, and married him.

The second child was named May, for the simple reason that it was the month the baby was born. And again, as the years went by, Sharon realized what a blessing May was.

May and Caroline were as close as sisters could be. They played with each other, did almost everything together, and watched each other's back. There was a lot of importance regarding this last thing, for the neighborhood was rough. As the two grew in adolescence to become two blossoming pretty women, they started to draw the attention of boys, both good and bad, girls who were looking for recruits into their gangs, and other people who didn't have a reason to get them, unless they had a proper excuse, like breathing.

Caroline inherited some of her father's athletic build, standing at 5'6 #," and had shoulder-length wavy black hair. She participated in various sports, and had good grades in school. She did not resort to violence unless it was absolutely necessary, and one did not mess with her once she crossed that line. She once took some time to learn a little boxing, and what she learned paid off in the black eyes and bloody noses of her attackers.

May inherited her father's shortness, and her build was also slim and athletic. At 5'1", her lack of height was more than made up for in her disposition. She was an interesting combination of a short woman with a soft voice and few words, and the attitude of a caged tiger. May did not care how big her foe was; in fact, she loved taking on bigger people. There were times Caroline had the double duty of cooling a situation down without resorting to violence, and holding May back, lest she rend them limb from limb. Fortunately, May minded her parents and elder sister.

But it was one day Caroline noticed as she was a senior in high school that the neighborhood was becoming more fearsome, and her skills in boxing would be severely limited. She looked into a few martial art schools, and discovered one that taught both aikido and tai chi. Upon hearing that aikido was solely defensive and non-violent, she enrolled.

She found out she loved the class. Already having an affinity for geometry, she loved the circular motion of both disciplines. She liked to think of them as a form of dancing. As far as the self-defense aspects were concerned, Caroline only had to use her newfound skills three times; twice on some girl gang members who tried to recruit her by force, and once on a heavyweight wrestler who thought his size and weight could make any woman cower to him. Caroline told her sister she should try it, but May said she'd rather take up a more aggressive martial art. Meanwhile, she already had a full schedule with participating in athletics at school.

Caroline also made some new friends in the class as well; three close ones as a matter of fact. The first one was Michelle, a 5'5" black woman with light brown skin and wavy shoulder length hair dyed brown. On top of her martial art studies, Michelle was also a bodybuilder (for fun, not for competition), and also took lessons in another martial art, Jeet Kune Do. The second was a 5'6" Filipino woman with long black hair named Rini. Although she wasn't a bodybuilder like Michelle, her build was equally muscular if not defined, from strenuous exercises she's done at home. She also knew another discipline besides aikido and tai chi like Michelle, except she knew two; the stick-fighting art called escrima, and the combination of submission holds called Chin Na. Caroline found Rini to be a font of information regarding martial arts in general. This earned her the title of being a "marital arts junkie."

Caroline noticed an interesting thing about Rini and Michelle; neither one of them wore shoes much outside the dojo if at all. When she asked why this was so, they replied they disliked shoes, and they tried to "convert" her to that lifestyle. She politely refused.

Her third friend was a Japanese-American woman by the name of Jasmine. She stood 5'6" with an athletic build and short black hair. Like Caroline, she practiced only tai chi and aikido; however, she had a unique physical memory that enabled her to duplicate almost every physical movement. She took up the two disciplines because they were more difficult to master. She also wore shoes, so Caroline had an ally whenever Michelle and Rini approached her on the merits of barefoot living.

While Caroline didn't have the talent of an unique physical memory like Jasmine, or the musculature of Michelle and Rini, she more than made up for it with a tactical mind and Zen-like concentration. During the tai chi sparring sessions, and the few real-life encounters, it was discovered that Caroline saw two to three moves ahead of her opponent (that skill was possibly a result of playing chess with May for many years), and once she became involved in that task, nothing shook her focus.

The four women reached the top of their class, and received their black belts at the same time. Caroline and May still remained close, and though there were no conflicts, because of the age difference, Caroline hung around with her friends, and May hung around with hers.

One day, the four women were standing outside Caroline's house in front of a wooden fence. It was a fall day, and all were dressed in blue jeans and jackets; Michelle and Rini barefoot as usual. Michelle was telling the other three about the one-inch punch used in Jeet Kune Do and practicing by hitting the flat part of the fence.

"So tell me why we're doing this again?" Caroline asked.

"You'll never know when it'll come in handy," Michelle said.

"I just thought it'd be fun," Rini replied.

"Like sensei said, it never hurts to have another tool in your tool box," Jasmine said.

"I thought my tool box was already full," Caroline replied.

"Oh your tool box is never full," Rini countered.

"If you practice this for twenty minutes every day, your punch will be powerful," Michelle instructed.

At this time, May came home from school. She waved at the four women, then gave them a confused look as she saw them punching the fence. She shook her head and entered the house.

"I was just thinking of something. It's a little corny, but hear me out," Jasmine said.

"Sure," Caroline replied as the others nodded.

"Well, I have no other way to say it, we're good. We're each capable of taking people out without even breathing hard. All four of us know at least two martial arts. The toughest people in the neighborhood turn the other way when they see us coming."

"You are right," Michelle said, after a moment's pause. "So what are you proposing?"

"That we use our abilities, our powers for good. I know we're all Christians here, but I thought I'd feel better if we agreed to it. See, I told you it was corny."

"Not at all, Jas," Rini said. "We are living weapons in potential; promising to use ourselves to help people instead of hurt sounds like the best course of action."

"I agree, let's hug on it!" Caroline said.

And through a big hug, a pledge was made. After the hug, Caroline's mom told her that dinner would be ready soon. Everyone said their goodbyes and left. Caroline went upstairs to place her jacket in her bedroom closet. May was already lying on her bed, shoes kicked off, waving her socked feet back and forth as she pondered a math problem.

"Hey, how was school?" Caroline asked.

"Fine. Let me ask you a question," May said.

"Yeah?"

"What has that fence ever done to you to keep hitting it like that? I'll take it down if you want me to."

Caroline laughed. "Oh, we were practicing our one-inch punch."

"One-inch punch. You martial arts people do some weird things."

"Yeah, I guess we do. Have you thought anymore on taking up a martial art yourself?"

"Some, but I couldn't tell you which one; there are so many. What I can tell you though is hidden in this envelope." May suddenly produced an envelope.

"Is that what I think it is?" Caroline asked, reaching for the envelope. May snatched it away.

"Nope, you'll have to find out at dinner."

"I'm your sister, you can tell me. Maybe if I tickle it out of you-"

"Dinner!" Their mom yelled from downstairs.

The envelope revealed a full scholarship to the local community college, where Caroline was already attending. Robert, the step dad was pleased, while Sharon was weeping with joy.

"Mother, I'm going to school, not winning the Academy Award," May said to her mom.

"I know, but this is such a special day," Sharon cried.

"What your mother is trying to say is that you'll have a baby brother soon," Robert said matter-of-factly.

Caroline and May looked at each other, then rushed around the table to give their mom a hug. Now all three were crying.

"Hey, what about me? I think I had at least a small part in this!" Robert complained.

Both girls ran to hug him as well. Caroline suddenly broke loose and ran upstairs.

"Where are you going?" May asked.

"I got to call the gang!" Caroline yelled down.

"Mom? Since Caroline is going to be up there all night, can I have her chicken leg?" May said.

Bobby Ray, or Robert Jr. was happy and healthy, and already a big hit with the ladies.

"I won't be able to go to the movies with you three tonight; I have a date," Caroline said.

"Oh no you don't; I know where you're going, and you're not going without me," Jasmine replied. "Besides, he likes me, I could tell by his smile."

"I think it was gas," Rini remarked.

"You're just jealous."

"No, I know what gas is."

"I'd say so. After you had that bean burrito-" Michelle began.

"I said I was sorry!"

"I know you are, now you just need to tell the rest of the block," Jasmine commented. "Anyway, how about we all see little Robbie?"

Caroline's cell phone rang. After she answered it, talked and hung up, she shook her head. "Never mind, May and her friends have it covered. So what do you want to see?" She said.

"The kid's barely born, and already he's breaking hearts," Michelle remarked. "Let's go to my place and rent something."

The four arrived at Michelle's place, and got settled in ' until Rini remembered something.

"Popcorn!" She said.

"Oh, I forgot to get some, I'm sorry," Michelle said.

"No problem; as the proud owner of a new baby brother, and a degree in communications (give or take a class), I'm buying. I already know what everybody likes; I'll be right back," Caroline said.

The remaining ladies discussed what movie to play first as Caroline grabbed her coat and headed out the door.

This town, like the others in Central Indiana and across the United States had a mayor. Yet in this case, he was not the person of power; the councilman was. Councilman Michael Johnson served, or more accurately ruled the town for years. Under him, the city had experienced tremendous growth and prosperity. Not many suffered from lack of a job, and the area schools were some of the best in the state.

At this point, no one knew about the councilman's dark side, unless you worked for him, against him, or in spite of him. It was said that he had dirt on everyone, including the mayor. Those same rumors say even the governor of Indiana couldn't touch him.

Over a period of time, the councilman had turned the city into his own personal kingdom. Anyone who went against him at election time would either withdraw, quit in disgrace, or lose in a landslide.

Matt Allen was not the best patrolman on the city's police force. In fact, many would wonder how the idiot landed the job at all. He was bigoted, slow-witted, and had a tendency to make "police brutality" an art form. But the 6'6" brown-haired man had what few cops did: he had the councilman's personal favor. He was one of "Johnson's Cops," which meant he was "fire proof," and carried out personally the councilman's bidding.

Kyle Wilson was a normal building contractor, until he formed a friendship with the good councilman. This "friendship" resulted in Kyle getting the majority of construction projects around the area, no matter what the bid. For his services, Johnson received a small fraction. But one day, Kyle grew a conscience. He said he didn't want to swindle the other construction companies anymore. He also said he wasn't blowing the whistle, but if he wanted to choose someone else to get his kickbacks from, that's fine; but he wanted to face his family with a mind free of burdens. The councilman did not take that well.

Kyle had a wife, a daughter, and a son. The wife and daughter went shopping for a few things at the local supermarket. On their way out, they ran into Matt, standing by their car, billy club in hand.

"Is anything wrong, officer?" Jessica Wilson asked.

"Yeah, you have a taillight broken," Matt said as he swung his baton back, breaking one of the taillights.

"Why did you do that?" Heather Wilson, the teenage daughter said. She planned on attending the university that fall.

"These parking lots can be dangerous," Matt continued. "You never know who you'll run into. I have a little message for your daddy from the councilman. Families are very precious; it would be a horrible thing if something happened to them."

And with the sudden smoothness of a tennis pro's backhand, Matt's billy club hit Jessica on the left temple, sending her flying a few feet before landing on the pavement, out cold. She would later need stitches to heal the wound.

Heather ran to her mother to see how bad she was hurt, then her eyes widened in terror as she turned and saw Matt with his billy club upraised.

"Leave them alone!"

Caroline parked her car at an angle that the policeman didn't see, and she arrived at her car just in time to see the horrendous scene before her. Tossing her groceries in the backseat, she trotted to where the three were, placing herself in front of Heather. She did not know the reason for what she saw, but she knew that police officers don't pummel innocent citizens, especially if they're posing no threat.

Matt was surprised that someone saw what he did, but it didn't matter; he could crack this woman on the head quickly, then get to work on the daughter. He resumed raising his billy club, and then swung it in a downward swing toward Caroline's head.

Caroline moved without thinking, sidestepping the oncoming blow, then grasping Matt's arm and pulling it down, performing a Shomenuchi Kaitenage, Omote variation. Matt had no choice but to go in the direction he first chose, and with a twist of the arm from Caroline, landed flat on his back. Normally the throw would have knocked the breath out of him if not knock him out, but fortunately for him, Matt's coat was very thick. It softened his landing on the hard asphalt, leaving him with a sore behind. He hopped up to his feet and charged Caroline again.

Heather was very grateful for this stranger who may have saved their lives from this monster who was supposed to be a police officer. She glanced over at her mother, who was bleeding profusely from the wound the policeman gave her. For a moment, she was torn. If there was any way she could help the woman, she could, but her mother was bleeding all over the parking lot. Deciding on what to do, and cursing herself at the same time, she half-dragged her mother to the car and placed her in the backseat. Leaving herself time to look at the woman combatant who held her own, she started the car and pulled out of the lot to head to the nearest hospital.

Meanwhile, Matt was charging at Caroline full speed, the baton upraised to strike, so she repeated the same maneuver with the same result. The thick coat spared Matt's back, but his butt almost felt numb. He clung tightly with the billy club as he rose a little slower than before. Caroline rushed over, grabbed Matt's wrist, and gave a simple twist, causing him to howl in pain and drop the baton. Cursing, he prepared to ball up his fist and strike, but Caroline struck first, using the one-inch punch Michelle taught her. Matt's eyes rolled up in his head, and he fell back down to the ground.

"How about that, it does work," she said.

She saw the daughter and her mother pull out of the parking lot out of the corner of her eye, and was glad that they were safe, and probably headed to the nearest hospital to get medical attention. As far as this thug was concerned, she'll just leave him here in the parking lot, and call and voice a complaint to the police when she gets back to Michelle's place. Having memorized his badge number, she prepared to leave.

Joe Hawkins up to that moment was sitting in the car. Otherwise known as "Sloppy Joe," he was a police officer's worse nightmare as far as image was concerned. It was possible he bathed, but that was it. His clothes always looked like he slept in them, his six o'clock shadow was so rough, it looked like it needed a miniature lawn mower instead of a razor, and he lived like a slob. Joe stood 5'8", and while not excessively overweight, he was clearly out of shape. He was another one of "Johnson's cops," which in a way was a good thing, for no cop in their right mind wanted to ride with Matt, and no one wanted to be seen with Joe either.

He was in his car eating donuts watching the drama unfold until he realized that this woman who interfered knocked Matt out. Suddenly startled into action, he scrambled out of the car, knocking the remainder of the donuts to the asphalt of the parking lot. He picked up his radio, telling dispatch that a policeman had been assaulted, and he trotted over to where Matt lay, and drew his revolver and aimed it at Caroline.

"Freeze!" Joe said, his revolver wavering in his grip.

Despite the fact that a loaded revolver was pointed at her, Caroline gave the policeman a look that could be conveyed as "you've got to be kidding." She knew she could take this cop too, with even less effort than she did the tall one, but that wouldn't be the right thing to do. The situation was made even more surreal when three other police cars pulled up from nowhere with flashing lights. She started to feel like she should be on the TV show America's Most Wanted. Holding up her hands, she explained to one of the approaching officers what happened when Joe interrupted.

"I saw this woman attack Matt from behind! She attacked him so savagely, if I didn't get here in time, he would've been a goner!" He said.

The officers looked at her and Joe a little confused. This woman doesn't look like a crazed killer, and if they could freely admit it, they were glad somebody beat up the idiot. Many of them have been wanting to do it for years, but heavy fines and other warnings have prevented them from doing so.

"You need to keep her covered, Ricky, she knows that kung fu stuff!" Joe exclaimed.

Caroline turned to Ricky and asked, "Can I tell you what happened, Ricky? I assure you I didn't attack anyone, and besides it was aikido, not kung fu."

Ricky said, "I would love to, believe me, but under the circumstances, I have to place you under arrest. Once we get to the station, you'll be able to tell your story without interruption. Could you place your hands behind your back please?"

"Watch out Ricky, she'll give one of those karate kicks-"

"Shut up, Joe! We'll take it from here. Ricky, no need for handcuffs; just let her sit in the back of the squad car. We have this "mad killer' under control," said Tyree, a black officer who stood the same height as Joe, but in much better shape and conduct. "We'll get this straightened out miss-"

"Caroline," she said.

At the police station, Caroline used her allowed phone call to call her parents, give them the brief story on what happened, and to call Michelle's place to let the women know what happened, and she probably won't be able to watch movies that night. Since all the patrolmen except for the two bozos she dealt with sounded reasonable, perhaps this mess will be cleared up soon.

While Caroline was being processed, Joe took a spare moment to call a special cell phone number only he, Matt, and a few other people had possession of. The phone was answered after the first ring.

"Was the message received?" The councilman asked bypassing the greeting.

"Not quite; he cracked his wife over the head, and was about to lay the smackdown on the daughter until some woman interfered," Joe replied.

"So? He could've whacked her too, saying she interfered with an investigation or something."

"That's just it, boss, she took him on and knocked him out. I wouldn't believe it if I didn't see it with my own eyes."

"Knocked him out?"

"Yeah, she used some type of martial art. She called it pokeeno or something like that. Threw him around like he was nothing. Then she punched him with a very short punch, and he went out like a light."

"Huh. "Pokeeno,' don't you mean aikido?"

"What?"

"Never mind. What did you do?"

"What else could I do, I placed her under arrest. I even called for backup so she wouldn't do that stuff on me. While she was fighting Matt, the two chicks got away."

"What does this woman look like?"

"Uh, let's see," Joe said, pausing to think. "She's non-white, Filipino I think, about 5'6" or 5'7", long wavy black hair, nice build. Rather attractive when she's not punching your lights out."

"Doesn't fit the description of anyone I know. Must be an innocent bystander who was playing Good Samaritan."

"You know some broads who can do that?"

"One, but she's much shorter than that. Anyway, that woman could make things rough, especially if the wife and daughter testify."

"You want me to make a visit to their house, boss?"

"No, because you don't know where it is. The man moved and changed his phone number. How bad was the wife's injuries?"

"It was a cut on the head. She was knocked out, but I think that's it."

"I wanted my message to be more meaningful than that. Maybe that will do it. She could be at a number of hospitals in the area. Don't do anything to the family for right now until this all pans out."

"What about the woman?"

The councilman paused. "I'll arrange to put her away for a while, as a reward for her "civic duty.'"

For Caroline, the next couple of weeks were like quicksilver. It seemed like at one moment she gave her story to the arresting officers whom she noticed nodded their heads in understanding. The next moment, she was telling her story again, this time before a prosecutor who did his best to make her appear like a cop-killer, and a jury who looked like they wanted to see her hang. She had heard the phrase, "kangaroo court," but she never grasped the meaning until that day. Before she knew it, she was sentenced to ten years with the possibility of parole in five. And this was all because she did what she thought was the right thing. What was she to do, let that man beat on her while she drove back to watch movies and eat snacks? No, her parents, sensei, and pastor taught her better than that.

Caroline's knowledge of the fine points of the legal system was limited, but even she could see some things didn't make sense. Aside from the attempted beating being illegal, she knew as a general rule cops stand up for their own. So why were the other officers acting like that man ' Matt, his name was ' got what he deserved? Plus, her case was rushed through, like they wanted it taken care of in a hurry. Not that she expected to charm any jurors, but why were they so hostile? And finally, why weren't the woman who was hit and her daughter there to testify? The whole thing only started to make sense when she was shortly sent to the prison, and placed before the warden, a Hispanic woman in her fifties who dressed like she was the head of a Fortune 500 corporation.

"So you're Caroline Barusta, the "cop-beater,'" the warden quipped with a smirk on her face.

"Ma'am, it was not like that at all, really-" Caroline started, but the warden cut her off.

"It's all right Caroline; I know it's not your fault. Please, have a seat."

"You know it's not my fault?" Caroline repeated.

"I wish I can say your case is a unique one, but it's not. You know, among many of the inmates, and some of the staff here, you're regarded as a hero."

"I'm confused."

"I know. I imagine you were confused from the time you were arrested. Here's the deal; the councilman runs this town. It's not the mayor; the councilman gives him permission to say he's the one who put things in motion, but he's not. Have you heard of Michael Johnson?"

"Ah, yes, I have. I didn't vote for him because there was something I didn't like about him, but yes, I heard about him."

"Ah, a wise woman. You see to most citizens who see only what's in front of them, they see a city that's progressing, jobs for everyone, and a place they're proud to call home. To those people who are in the political arena, the private sector, or just plain curious, they see something else altogether. It would take me all day to tell you about the corrupt dealings, bribes, and other schemes that reveal the puppet master behind it all. But even with the best puppet masters, a few puppets break their strings. And that's where you came in.

"You know that beating you prevented? That was the wife and daughter of the building contractor, Kyle Wilson."

"I've heard of him," Caroline remarked.

"You should, his name is everywhere. It used to be every time you saw a new building come up, you would see the sign, "This building has been created by Kyle Wilson and Associates.' Well payments to the councilman under the table assured that he would win every bid, and of course his business grew, and both Wilson and Johnson grew richer. One day, Wilson looked in the mirror, saw the light, whatever phrase you want to use, and one day he told the councilman he didn't want to play ball any more. The puppet master didn't like that, and since he couldn't get to him, he was going to send him a message via his family. And that's where you come in."

There was a pause as the warden brushed back a strand of stray black hair and cleaned his glasses.

"So he was going to have his wife and daughter beaten to a pulp to send a message?" Caroline said.

"Yes, and your interference probably saved them both from serious injuries."

"I couldn't stand there and watch them get beaten. That cop, him and the sloppy guy are on Johnson's payroll, aren't they?"

"Yes. You may be wondering how I know all this. I'm not a woman on the inside, I'm just a prison warden. But over the years, there have been several cases like yours; an innocent person who's only crime has been standing in the wrong place at the wrong time, or in your case, trying to prevent a crime from being committed. I started putting two and two together, and when the answer became more than five, I looked closer and that's what I found out."

"Can't anyone do something?"

"Short of assassination, no. There's rumors that he even has the governor of this state in his pocket. I'm very sorry you got sucked into this. There is some good news about this though."

Caroline was starting to feel disgusted about this whole affair. "Oh really? Like what?"

"I can get you out."

"You can?"

"In five years. If it was up to me, I would send you out the doors now, but if I act sooner, then the spotlight falls on me, and I have enough early parolees released to make him a little suspicious. But your parole date is guaranteed. The only other thing that could get you out sooner, would be if that man's wife and daughter showed up and explained what happened. But I imagine Wilson has them hidden away so the councilman can't get them. In that, I don't blame him, but at the same time, it doesn't do you any good."

Caroline sighed. "Well, in that case, I need to find out about taking college courses by correspondence, and some other things; it's going to be a long five years. You guys have a decent library?"

Caroline couldn't say when it happened. Maybe it was during the first week of imprisonment, maybe a little later. But she woke up with the knowledge that she won't stay behind bars for long. It may be a few years at most, but she will be free, and justice will be served. She couldn't say how, she just knew. She remembered the warden told her in five years, her parole would be guaranteed, but she knew she would be walking out the front gates sooner than that. That revelation helped her sleep peacefully at night, but it was hard to explain to other people without them thinking she was delusional. Still, she reasoned, the main point was that she knew.

Visiting hours were about as trying as they were welcome. Seeing her family was a big joy, followed by the depressing moment when they went home, and she couldn't go with them. And seeing her new baby brother, and holding him for only a moment it seemed, was heartbreaking. Caroline wanted to be there when he took his first steps, spoke his first words, and she even missed changing his diaper of all things. Her friends in themselves became a handful. When she told them what happened, anger and vengeance was what they radiated. There were plans ranging from breaking her out of prison to either one or all three of them storming the councilman's mansion, and showing him very painfully what happens when he sends innocent people to prison. Finally, she reminded them of the pledge they made, and begged them to not do anything. Justice will come, and she'll be released, just believe and be patient. Very reluctantly, they agreed.

One day, Caroline received a surprise visitor. Curious, she walked into the visitor's area. Her friends and family had already seen her the day before. Finally, she saw a familiar looking woman, but she couldn't place her.

"I came by," the woman said, "to tell you that we're sorry we couldn't come."

"Couldn't come?" Caroline asked.

"To your trial. Mom and I wanted to, but daddy was afraid they would come after us again. I'm not even supposed to be here, but I had to come by and say we're sorry. I wish there was a way we could say what happened that day, but daddy said his men are everywhere. I'm sorry-" she stopped, breaking down in tears.

"How is your mother?"

"She's fine. They thought that blow might have left a scar, but it didn't. I'm sorry, I just feel bad knowing you saved us, and a few words from us will get you out, but we're so scared."

As she started breaking down again, Caroline patted her hand and said, "What's your name?"

"Heather."

"Heather, I want to tell you that it'll be all right. Justice will come, I don't know when, but it will come, and all will be revealed. You and your family is safe and healthy, are you attending school?"

"I was going to school here, but I'll be going to Bloomington instead."

"Go to school, go on with your life, I'll be okay. Your family will be in my prayers. Just don't forget me when the coast is clear, okay?"

Heather gave Caroline a big long hug, cried a little more, than fled the visiting area. At least that's one thing to be happy about; the family she protected from harm is doing well. In her situation, that means something. In the meantime, she needed to do something before she went stir crazy waiting five years for a parole. She had books to read, she was taking college correspondence courses, and checking into the prison bible studies they had around the cell block; so what was left. Then she thought about her friends on the outside, and how they were growing in their martial arts skills. And then, she had an idea.

One big difference between prison life in reality and prison life in the movies was in the movies they had better outfits. Instead of dark or powder blue, or even black and white stripes, the inmates were provided with orange jumpsuits, loud orange jumpsuits. So loud, they could be glow in the dark neon. Along with that is provided a white bra, a pair of white panties (if requested), a pair of white socks, and last but not least, a pair of black shower shoes. A few extra items could be bought at outrageous costs. Though she haven't demanded much from her family, Caroline had them buy her extra deodorant, five more pairs of socks, and a week's worth of bras and panties. Once she received those items, she felt human again. She kept wondering who would spend their prison time running around without underwear, but when she discovered the reputations of some of the inmates, she thought to herself never mind.

The one extra thing she could not get was a different type of shoe. It looked like she was doomed to spend her prison time walking around in those flimsy things. She hated them so much, one morning after she got up, she didn't bother putting them on at all. Since the floor was a little cool, she did put some socks on, then decided against that, and pulled them off. As she walked around, she thought to herself that this barefoot thing isn't half-bad. So Rini and Michelle had a point. It looked like Jasmine may have lost an ally in the foot wars.

Caroline's cellmate was a tall black woman by the name of Maxine. She was a newlywed only five months into her marriage when she came home early from her job as an administrative assistant one day and literally found her husband in bed with another woman. Upon seeing them and asking what was going on, the mistress strolled over to her and told her she wasn't "man enough" for him, and slapped her face. Mark, the husband, sat up in anticipation of seeing a catfight fought over him. That hope only lasted five seconds when Maxine decked the harlot with a left cross. That hope was further decimated when Maxine turned on him and started punching his lights out. Wearing only a sheet covering his birthday suit, Mark scrambled out the back door and burst into his neighbor's house to call the police. The only reason why the case wasn't marked up to a simple case of domestic violence was that Mark was a cop, and on top of that, one of Johnson's men. The case was upgraded to aggravated assault, and Maxine was taken away, but not without the promise that she'll "finish what she started with him and that tramp" when she got out. As expected, the couple got divorced, and Mark and his battered girlfriend moved someplace safe so his estranged ex-wife won't find them.

"It seems we have something in common, Maxine," Caroline said. "We're both cop-beaters."

Maxine, 6'2" and strongly built with a medium frame, laughed. "I guess we do at that. And call me Maxi," she said.

"Did I hear right, that you beat both of them up?"

"The tramp, I beat with one punch. The no-good louse who claimed to be my husband, I kept hitting until he burst out the back door buck naked wearing a sheet."

Caroline couldn't help but laugh. "I'm sorry, it just sounds so-"

"Funny? Yeah, it is when I think about it. Usually I get someone saying that he was just holding back. No, I was holding back until he hit me, then I would've had a chance to kill him."

"Were you a boxer at one time? You look like you worked out."

"I've always been strong. I had to, I was raised on a farm. You lift those hay bales and do all that other work, me and my three sisters and two brothers had no choice but to get buff. When I met Mark, I got the idea that I needed to act frail so I could be "more like a lady.' Huh, forget that."

"I have some friends who work out regularly. You should meet them."

"And you should try doing some weights, I'd bet you'd look real good buffed up."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I'll tell you what; since we're both going to be here a little while anyway, I'll teach you some weight training if you'll teach me that tai chi and what was that stuff that you beat that flunky up with?"

"Aikido," Caroline said.

"Yeah, that. I'll at least learn how to say it when we're through."

"It's a deal. Hey, who's the toughest gang in this prison?"

"The Vipers. The leader is in for assault with a knife. Ten days after she got here, she became the queen bee of the place. They don't bother me, but I don't think they'll mess with you either if they have any sense," Maxi said.

"Will we see them during recess?" Caroline asked.

"Yeah, in the north corner. Why?"

"I want to extend my client base."

During recess, many of the inmates walked around the prison yard chatting with each other, some worked out at a small exercise area on the grounds, while others hung with their respective gangs; and Rita Adams was no exception. The 5'5" Hispanic woman wore her short hair spiked, and dyed pink; well, as pink as one could get it behind bars without the benefit of a nearby salon. She had a medium build, further hardened by using the prison weight room in the classic prison style (predominately focusing on the upper body while practically ignoring the lower body). Her multi-ethnic gang of thirteen was big enough to let other prisoners know they were a presence one shouldn't mess with.

They sat at their usual spot, occupying a few benches, discussing gang business when they noticed a Filipino woman standing barefoot about twenty feet from them watching the rest of the yard, practically paying no attention to them at all.

"Who's that chick?" One blond woman with tattoo of a butterfly with a knife stuck in it said.

"Fresh meat," a short brunette woman with glasses who hung around Rita like an extra appendage answered. "I guess no one had taught her the rules yet. We need to teach her."

"Hold on," Rita interrupted. "She looks familiar. Wait a minute, she's the chick who beat up that cop!"

"How did she do that?" Replied a black woman who's build obviously reflected her time on the weights. "She doesn't look like much to me."

"Maybe she got lucky," the blond with the butterfly tattoo said.

"Lucky or not, she's not invited to our party without an invitation. I'll "break it to her' gently," Rita stated as she got up from her seat and walked toward Caroline, the other women close behind her.

Caroline was eyeing some detail in the way the guard posts were designed when Rita and company appeared.

"Hey," Rita said by way of a greeting.

"Hey," Caroline responded back to her in reply.

"I recognize you from TV. You're kind of a celebrity around here, aren't you?"

"Yeah, that's me, the "cop-beater.'"

"Well, well. What's your name?"

"Caroline. What's yours?"

"Rita." She thought about using her street name, "Rita the Ripper," but she figured for this pretence, she could pretend to be polite. "It's the first time I've been in the presence of a celebrity."

"It's no big deal."

"You got that right. You see, Caroline, out there, you might get some goody points for getting lucky and winning a fight with one of Johnson's cops, but here, being a celebrity is something you earn."

"And how would I earn that?"

"I can think of a few ways. You do them, and you'll be popular throughout the whole prison."

The gang laughed at Rita's remark. Caroline just nodded her head in agreement.

"I see," Caroline said.

Rita looked her over. How did you beat up that guy, anyway? You have a nice body, but you don't look like you could take on a cop."

"Aikido."

"I keyed oh? Sounds like the name of some Japanese guy."

"Hey!" An Asian-American of the group said in protest.

"So Caroline," Rita continued, "in here, fancy sounding words don't count for anything. Here, it's ' what's that phrase ' survival of the fittest. If you want to stick around, you'll have to be "fit.'"

"Uh-huh."

"And there are certain rules in this place that need to be followed. One of them is that you don't come over to this part of the yard without permission, because this is our part of the yard. If you violate this rule, certain consequences will result."

"Who made up those rules?" Caroline asked innocently.

"I did," Rita said, getting a little annoyed by such a dumb question.

"And what consequences will happen if those "rules' are violated?"

Rita got within a foot of Caroline's face and said, "Is that a challenge?"

"No, that's a question."

"Now you're being smart. Girl, you don't want to know what we, especially I would do to you if you messed with me."

"If I didn't want to know, I wouldn't ask."

"Since you think you're all that, why don't we see what you got. Let's throw down right now."

"If you insist," Caroline replied as she walked to a clearer space so she could maneuver.

The gang women immediately got into a circle surrounding the two combatants. Rita dropped into a form of a boxing stance, while Caroline stood like she was, appearing to look bored. The other women began shouting encouragement to Rita. By now, the other inmates knew better than to interfere in Viper's business. Rita threw a left jab, which Caroline quickly deflected. The same thing happened with her right jab. Rita suddenly leaped forward, cocking her right arm and firing a punch that would be guaranteed to rock the newcomer if not knock her out.

The punch never landed. In fact, it didn't stop. Caroline spun away from the punch, but placed both hands on Rita's wrist. For a few moments, Caroline not so much pulled as she guided Rita in a few circles, with an extra one just for show, a prisoner of her own movement. Suddenly, without warning, she changed direction, the sudden halt in momentum sending Rita to the ground hard. Before she could get up and do anything about it, Caroline held her arm in a painful armlock. Rita grunted and cursed while the others attempted to get closer.

"I wouldn't be doing that," Caroline said matter-of-factly. "I think Rita is rather fond of this arm. And to set the record straight, aikido is a martial art where you use a person's own strength against them. It doesn't matter if you're a bodybuilder or the Incredible Hulk, anyone trained in this can take you down. And now, Rita, who is the leader?"

Rita screamed and cussed. "Are you retarded? I am!"

"Wrong answer," Caroline replied, and cranked up the pressure on her arm.

"Aaah!"

"Now let's try again. Rita, who is the leader?"

"I am the leader, and we're going to kick your ' aaah!"

"Wrong answer again, Rita," Caroline replied after adding another erg of pressure on her arm. The others didn't want to make a move for fear of damage to Rita's arm, so they stood there in silence.

"One more time, Rita; who is the leader?" Caroline asked again, softly, but with enough emphasis to let all parties concerned that she meant business.

". . . You are," Rita said, forcing the words out.

"Right answer," Caroline replied, releasing Rita's arm, and stepping back, readying herself just in case Rita or anyone else wanted to make a counterattack. Rita just sat on the ground shaking the blood back into her arm while the others stood around dumbstruck. Rita was their best fighter. "Is there anyone here who disagrees with that?"

The gang was silent.

"Well since I'm your leader now, we're going to change a few things. You see, while I'm stuck here, I'm afraid my skills are going to get a little bit rusty, so I need some people to practice with or practice on, your choice. We're going to meet here at this same spot every day to practice some moves. You might not like some of these changes, and if so, feel free to receive another aikido lesson at no charge. Now according to my rules, here's how things are going to be . . ."

A few weeks later, May came by to visit her sister. She was surprised to see Caroline sitting down at her table with a smile on her face, and no shoes on her feet.

"How are you sis?" May asked.

"Oh, I'm doing fine. My correspondence courses are going well, and almost everybody here is kind to me. I even have a group of ladies who I teach tai chi to five times a week. I may teach them aikido later," Caroline responded.

"You're teaching people already? Wow, that's quick. How did you accomplish that?"

"It's an interesting story; I'll tell you about it sometime. But that's not why I called you here."

"Here," May spat out with disgust. "You have no reason to be here. They caged you up like an animal in a zoo, while that disgusting pig of a cop walks the streets free. I may not be able to get the councilman who started this mess in the first place, but I can get the cop. I know his beat, I know where he stops for lunch, and if you gave me enough time, I can find out where he lives. I will make him pay for what he's done to you, that mother and daughter, and all the other people he has beaten. I will beat him within-"

Caroline placed gentle, but firm hands on her sister's shoulders. "You will do nothing, do you understand me? Jasmine, Michelle, and Rini had suggested doing the same thing, but I will not have it. The four of us made a pledge that we will not use our martial arts skills for harm. Even though we did not make a similar pledge, I do not want my sister wreaking vengeance in my name."

"But whenever I think of you sitting in that cell while those who put you there are free, it just upsets me so much. I need to do something," May replied in a soft, but tense voice, almost on the verge of tears.

"May, you can do something. You can finish school, get a good job, and live a life I can be proud of. I'm not crazy about being here either, but please believe me, justice will come. It may not be as quick as we want, but it will come, trust me. When that day comes, the wrongdoers will get what they have coming to them, and the innocent will go free."

May looked down at her lap. "I wish I could have that type of faith. So sis, if you didn't summon me to hear me vent my vengeance, why did you call me?"

Caroline leaned back in her chair, rubbing her toes against the table leg and stroking her chin in thought. "I thought about you choosing a martial art, and you're right, aikido and tai chi are not your speed. Then again, I don't think karate is right for you either," she said.

"Okay, so what would you consider "my speed'? And where are your shoes?" May remarked.

"To answer the second question first, they're back in my cell. Ugly things. And Michelle and Rini have a point about shoes, but don't tell them I said that. But to answer your first question, from knowing you and seeing the opponents you virtually ripped apart before I could stop you, I think you're more of a "hands-on' person. Judo should be your cup of tea, I believe."

"Judo; yeah, I think that would suit my tastes." May said thoughtfully.

"It will make you stronger, give you courage, and self-confidence; which I know you have enough of already, but a little more couldn't hurt."

"Okay, I'll take up judo right away. So where do I go to get lessons?"

"I'm glad you asked. LS Chang is one of the best judo teachers in town if not the state. Seek her out, and I'm sure she'll be glad to teach you."

"Isn't she-"

"Jasmine's cousin? Yeah, but don't bother mentioning it, lest you want to go through the usual tales of woe that "your poor sister is incarcerated, and she hasn't done anything.' I know you don't need all that while you're trying to throw somebody. Just go to her, tell her you're ready to learn judo, and show her that you're the master that you will eventually be. Consider it one of those "jailhouse requests' that you see on those late night movies," Caroline chuckled.

May grinned. "Yes sis, I will honor your request."

The next day, LS Chang had opened her new dojo for the public. She already had a few students, a solid base to start with, but still she had a small case of opening day jitters. It was still two hours before the first class would officially start, but she couldn't stay home. She considered cleaning the place, but she did that twice already. She couldn't get her bare feet dirty unless she stepped outside. A light jog around the dojo was an interesting thought until she figured some meditation would be a better idea. The 5'2" stocky Chinese-American woman settled her muscular body down on her knees, cleared her mind of anxious thoughts, and closed her eyes to meditate.

It seemed like she just closed her eyes when she heard a knock on the door. A glance at the clock told her it has only been ten minutes. It's probably a salesman coming by to make her a potential client, she grumbled. The judoka was surprised to see a slim young woman an inch shorter than her (which was rare to her), dressed in white sweats with an eager expression on her face.

"Hello?" LS said.

"Hello. Are you LS Chang?" The woman asked.

"The one and only. May I help you?"

"My name is May, and I desire for you to teach me the art of judo."

"Well May, I will be more than happy to teach you what I can," LS said. "So how did you hear about my classes?"

"I didn't," May replied.

LS was a little stunned. "You heard nothing about me opening a new dojo, read my advertisements, or heard from anybody when my classes began?"

"No ma'am."

"So what did you do, literally come off the street?"

"Yes ma'am; I drove down the street until I saw this place with your name on the front, and here I am."

"Okay, uh, when would you like to start?"

"Right now, ma'am."

"Right now?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Oh. Well first of all, please call me "sensei' or "teacher.' "Ma'am' makes me sound like I am your mother. And my first class will start in an hour and a half."

"I see. So do I have to wait that long? I mean I can't start now, sensei?" May asked.

Wow, she is eager, LS thought. "I think we can start with a few things," she said. "Let me ask some questions first. Are you looking to learn the sport of judo or the martial art itself?"

May didn't miss a beat. "The true martial art of judo, no sports."

"And concerning that, you want to know-"

"Everything, as long as it takes. I will be one of your best students."

LS couldn't help but think back to the days when she was a child entering the dojo for the first time and saying almost the same thing. She smiled.

"Come on in, May," she said, "and we will get started on a few things before the other students arrive."

Four women rose to the top of their class, masters of their art. Three eventually became teachers while the fourth was imprisoned, arrested for doing the wrong thing. But she waited patiently for the truth to be revealed, and she believed the time for that will come soon.

For comments, suggestions, or story ideas, please email the author at shrewsberry@juno.com.

#2007 Barefoot Heroines, Inc.