Growing up in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, Rita had to fight battles for her younger brother, the ones caused by his big mouth. Everyone assumed they were fraternal twins. They were the same height although twenty-one months separated them. Keith was notorious for his rallying cry; “I’m going to get my sister.” Despite being a girl, as the eldest, their father demanded she protected her brother. She lost only one of those battles she didn’t start, with Keith’s biggest nemesis. Each month Mother Nature crippled her mind and body. Her reputation was on the line, so when the calendar was on her side, she started the fight that redeemed her. As adults now, Rita reminded her brother he had yet to repay her for all the punches she had to take for him. Nevertheless, only she, Jesus and her husband knew her Achilles Heel. And she prayed it would stay that way. Things wouldn’t go so well for her if the inmates knew her deepest fear.

  The March temperature hovered close to 60 degrees around noon when Rita took a deep breath and tried to close her fears up in her house as she left for work. Lunch traffic was going in the opposite direction, so the pace was steady as few heeded the 45 miles per hour speed limit. Helena was the first person she spotted in the parking lot. She accepted the dish of “real” yellow rice and chicken from her. Besides their faith, they shared an aversion to potluck meals. It took some coaxing before Rita would even try Helena’s cooking. Actually, fate intervened. Sometimes Mother Nature still wasn’t too kind to her. After being at Hillsborough for only seven months, one day she was too sick to drive home. Helena had insisted she stay with her until Benjamin could come to get her. Rita was impressed with her cleanliness and from that point on her reservations about eating her cooking slipped away.

  The cultural line was as obvious as the white line stitched in the blue inmate uniform in the Florida Department of Corrections. Divided into five regions, it might as well have just been two; the North and South. Prisons decorated the landscape in every direction you traveled north of Disney World in Orlando. When one of the good old boys from Trenton, Florida decided to bring his haughtiness to Riverview, Florida, Rita Parsons feared her career might be turning upside down.

  Hillsborough Correctional Institution housed male youthful offenders in a rural town about 15 miles south of Tampa. Society had deemed them criminals—undeserving of another chance in the juvenile justice system. Rita was the first female classification officer at Hillsborough. In her mid-twenties, she was often mistaken for much younger. Smart, spirited and saved. Brazen and clandestine challenges plucked at her resolve to be more than a token.

  She said a prayer outside the prison gates each day before entering the prison. Rita used to grimace when friends would say she was in prison. She’d reminded them that unlike the inmates, she was free to walk out of that prison at any time. She realized that wasn’t totally true after witnessing a surprise visit from prison inspectors in the Florida Department of Corrections Office of the Inspector General. They were accompanied by armed agents from the Florida Department of Law Enforcement and deputies from the Hillsborough County Sheriff’s Office. Staff and citizen volunteers had to remain in the front lobby while K-9 units patrolled the parking lot. There was a high-speed chase on Balm Road when a volunteer suspected of dealing in contraband with the inmates tried to avoid the checkpoint. It was another hour before Rita, her fellow staff, and the volunteers were free to leave the premises.

  On a routine day, when the control room doors slid open at five o’clock and floods of staff surged through them, she prayed she wouldn’t have a horror story to tell her husband. Drug dealers, arsonists, robbers, burglars, and even rapists crossed her path every day. Always aware of her environment, she walked the compound with confidence. Rita never liked the saying, “I’m gonna lay my religion down;” something people said before they said or did something they knew wouldn’t be pleasing to God. Yet, she saw how easily a few of the people she talked with about church and serving Jesus Christ switched into a carnal mode when talking to inmates and staff who didn’t have and didn’t desire a personal relationship with Christ. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven (Matthew 5:16).

  The outspoken records clerk of Puerto Rican-Castilian descent was one of her staunchest supporters. Helena didn’t speak Spanish, but her wit and voice reminded Rita of Bea Arthur. Rita was blessed to have her in her corner. Helena aspired to be the first female classification officer there, but the rules changed when the American Accreditation Committee insisted that applicants possess at least a bachelor’s degree to maintain the position’s professional classification. Twenty-five years older than Rita, Helena was a Pentecostal Christian. She laughed every time she talked about her Catholic mother’s horror about her conversion. Contrary to her ancestry, Helena clearly classified herself as white. She despised the term “Hispanic,” and often protested about how ridiculous it was to have to choose one or the other. Nevertheless, she used her status as a “minority” whenever it was expedient, especially in hiring decisions.

  Even the lieutenant who once scoffed at Rita’s demand that he personally remove the garbage can from her office after he used it as a spittoon, now pulled rank to be on her classification team during monthly progress reports. Despite being delivered from throat cancer twice, Lieutenant Booth still smoked and cursed. He was meaner than a raccoon protecting her young kits from eviction once she decided it made a great home for her family. He also had a way of saying “gal” that drove Rita crazy. When the LORD takes pleasure in anyone's way, he causes their enemies to make peace with them (Proverbs 16:7). Still, she preferred the cigar dangling from his mouth as he chewed on it to the sight of his jaw budging with tobacco. But their truce would seriously be torn to shreds if he spat in her office again.

  Rita lamented seeing a handful of her clients from the juvenile justice system now housed at Hillsborough. Stories of inmates she once worked with while a vocational counselor in a juvenile facility defending her honor were quite comical. The youngest inmate housed at Hillsborough was fifteen years old, and the oldest was twenty-six. Just like foster care, inmates could age-out of the youthful offender system and spend the balance of their sentence in adult institutions. One of her former juveniles had so much promise. He wanted to train to become a jockey. Instead, he was serving a ten-year sentence for robbery. He liked to brag about the thoroughbreds he maintained at a ranch. Rita could vouch that he was telling the truth. However, instead of getting the respect he yearned for due to the life he once held reins to, he was ridiculed for being stupid enough to end up in prison.

  Slight breezes were actually refreshing as Rita, and her co-worker served as tour guides for a Criminal Justice class from a local community college. She almost forgot about the open house. Shortly after five o’clock, Lester, her fellow classification officer, stepped into her office to wish her luck. He even brought her a large cup of coffee. Lester bragged that he had spent most of his time last night chasing inmates away for wasting his time. He hated the new policy too. Plus, he should have been the new supervisor, but like Helena, he only had a two-year degree. Darn shame, because he was one of the best adjunct professors in Criminal Justice at the community college. Rita laughed with him. She couldn’t appear weak. Lester reminded her that his buddies were right around the corner in the shift supervisor’s office if she needed anything. His buddies were some of the same officers Rita believed donned white sheets and hoods off-duty. Ambivalence about the need for Lester to vouch for her ability to them had clouded their relationship during the first few months. Eventually, God gave her a sense of peace that he was a trustworthy ally.

  As soon as count cleared releasing inmates back onto the general compound, she heard a few taps on the exterior door that lead into the hallway facing her office. Rain began to pummel the ground just as she unlocked the door. Lord, please don’t let them smell the fear that is overtaking me. Not only do I have to contend with the looming rain, but now I must take on these inmates too.

  Rita was unshakable in her faith and was proud of her reputation for being courageous. The story of Deborah in Judges intrigued her. God chose a woman to lead His people when that was unheard of. Most fascinating to Rita was the confidence Deborah had as a warrior. She was valiant and didn’t cower in the face of the enemy of her people. She believed the word of God, and He honored her as a leader. Most days, Rita felt like Deborah. She was courageous and expected victory whenever faced with seemingly insurmountable odds. But, there were other times when she understood Gideon’s reaction when the Angel of the Lord appeared unto him and called him, “a mighty man of valor.” In such moments of uncertainty, she needed God to help her unbelief.

  At dusk, Rita called for backup to secure the group that had been waiting to speak to her. Eternity could have made an appearance quicker than the officer. Water dripped from his yellow, State-issued raincoat. The promised call home to Benjamin had to wait until there was no danger of eavesdroppers lurking.

  Certain that only a speck of the twelve remaining inmates on the list had legitimate questions, Rita tried to focus for the ten minutes each was allowed. She shoved an Inmate Request form toward pompous filibusters. Where is Security? I’m sure they hung around Lester’s office last night. Asking the inmates to move farther down the hall while she made a call, she dialed the shift supervisor’s office. No answer. She heard the lewd comments. She saw the lewd gestures when a lone wolf reappeared close to her door. She heard the warnings; “Stop doing that crap. That woman ain’t stuttin’ your convict behind.” I need to handle this right now. Rita’s father always told her and Keith that dogs sensed fear.

  Rita stepped into the hallway with the waiting list in hand. She called each name and asked to see each identification card. She knew most of them. The lone wolf came too close.

  “You need to back away from me. Now!”

  He hesitated. Everyone’s attention turned to the door. The familiar sound of it being unlocked filled Rita with relief. The musky smell in the hallway was nauseating. It had been a trying evening.

  Seven-thirty. Time for the inmates to be escorted to their dorms. Rita beckoned for the officer to enter her office. He called for a comrade to monitor the inmates. She recounted the incident with the lone wolf. She checked her printout and confirmed he was not on her caseload. I wonder if he even showed up last night for Lester’s open house? The open house announcements over the intercom and the callout posted in each dorm clearly stated an inmate could only attend an open house with his assigned classification officer.

  The officer prepared to leave when Rita told him there was an incident with another inmate. He radioed the control room and advised that at least two inmates at open house would be going to confinement instead of to their dorms.

  The oldest inmate who attended the open house was from a wealthy family in Key West. Rita cut his time with her short after he threatened to use his family’s connections to ruin her career. It had taken a third charge of sexual battery before he was finally convicted. Even then, he was sentenced to only four years in State prison. He boasted that he was too good to be in the State system. No remorse. Pure arrogance. He had a callous disregard for authority, including his parents. He was incensed when Rita told him he was ineligible for a funeral furlough to attend his father’s funeral. When he stood abruptly and moved toward her desk, she had picked up her office phone.

  “I will bust your head open with this phone if you don’t leave my office.”

  The officer laughed when Rita told them of her own threat. “You should have called us as soon as that happened.”

  “I did, but no one answered in the shift supervisor’s office.”

  “Oh no, I’m surprised Lester didn’t tell you to call the control room.”

  “No, he told me someone would always be in the office. Anyway, it’s closer than the control room.”

  Child of God wasn’t one of the names Rita heard as the rapist was handcuffed. She knew God had been an ever-present help in the time of trouble when he had threatened her. It would have been a brawl if she needed to defend herself; even worse if the other inmates had joined in.

  Chastisement by his peers had fallen on deaf ears, yet the sight of the brown uniforms zapped the bravado of the lone wolf. “Mrs. Parsons, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean no disrespect. My old lady is coming to see me this weekend. I ain’t seen her in two months. If I miss her this time, it’s gonna be another two months before she can get somebody to bring her down here to see me.”

  Before she could tell him it’s too late, the Holy Spirit spoke to her. Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers (Ephesians 4:29).

  One of the other inmates shouted; “Dude you should have thought about that before you acted so nasty in front of this lady.”

  Rita felt sorry for the young woman entangled with him. He was begging for mercy when he’d already received it because Lieutenant Booth was off duty. Lewd conduct toward any female staff was abominable to him. Rita was torn about what to tell Benjamin about her first night at the open house.

  Rita and Benjamin were engaged when a 220-pound eighteen-year-old clobbered her during a riot at the juvenile facility. The blow was so hard her shattered glasses landed a few feet away. One of the 24K gold earrings Benjamin bought her as a birthday gift was never recovered. A co-worker drove her to Benjamin’s apartment and brought them both back so he could drive her home. She had merely mentioned that she couldn’t drive home because her glasses were broken. Along the ride, he asked how it happened. Rita had sprinted from the State vehicle before it came to a complete stop and begged co-workers not to let her fiancé inside. Rita had never seen his face so red. His hazel eyes were glazed over with rage. It was common for certain staff to have family accompany them inside to the administration building instead of waiting in the car. She was looking forward to Benjamin becoming her husband; not a jailbird for giving her attacker “the beating he deserved by a grown man.”

  Besides the two inmates taken to disciplinary confinement, how was she going to explain the apology she received from her former attacker?

  “I thought that was you when I saw you on the compound. You got married ‘cause your name is different, but I came to the open house tonight to make sure it was you.”

  “Your name isn’t on the list, so you’re in an unauthorized area.” Lord, where are those stones that David used to slay Goliath? He’s even bigger now.

  “I just came to apologize for what I did back then before anybody else got here. I know it was wrong. My mama raised me better than that. I ain’t here to cause no trouble. They sent me here from Trenton to be closer to my family. I get out in three months. I’ve been talking to the chaplain. He’s gonna help me get a job with the Salvation Army when I get out.”

  Rita understood it was within her power to have him shipped away. “If I hear about what happened back then, you can forget about staying closer to home. You’ll be on the next transfer bus going back north.”

  “You ain’t got to worry about that. Thank you for not pressing charges against me.” As he turned to leave her office, the Holy Spirit convicted Rita about the covenant she was entering into with the inmate. For whatever is hidden is meant to be disclosed, and whatever is concealed is meant to be brought out into the open (Mark 4:22).

  “Hold on. I need to get something straight before you go back on the compound. If your record is as clean as you say, you should be able to do the remainder of time here. I do have a responsibility, however, to notify my supervisor.”

  He stumbled backward. His hands pressed against the sides of his head. Sweat glistened his forehead.

  “Why? Can’t we just keep this between us? I got too much to lose to go around talking about something I wish I had never done.”

  Rita offered him a paper towel to wipe his brow. “Don’t worry. As long as I document I don’t have a problem with you being on our compound, there shouldn’t be a problem. Now go in peace and sin no more.”

  He shook his head. He managed a chuckle. “God bless you, Mrs. Parsons.” He left as the sound of bowling balls colliding with clouds rumbled throughout the building. Rita knew she would have to tell Lester first. She needed him to vouch for her in this situation.

  Rita secured her office promptly at nine o’clock after calling to tell Benjamin she was on her way. She had to decline Helena’s offer earlier to spend the night at her home; only four miles away because Benjamin didn’t think it was necessary. He didn’t understand how a woman of God like her, Sunday School teacher, first soprano in the choir and former tomboy who worked with criminals every day could be gripped with such a debilitating fear. It was one of the few things that divided them in their marriage. She had even begged him to come to get her.

  Rita was terrified of driving in heavy rain. Shadowy shapes and figures in the dark only made it worse. Her breathing had become labored, and her heart rate accelerated just listening to the forecast that morning. She felt helpless and embarrassed that such fear consumed her. Still, it was real. The churning in her stomach proved it. The light-headedness agreed.

  “You’re going to be all right. Just take your time. It might even stop raining by the time you get halfway home. I bought some of your favorite donuts.”