22. ♞ SOAP

PHOEBE HEARD THE LARGE metal doors of the prison's laundry room opening, turning away from her spot in front of the wall she was painting with dark green paint, watching as Michael and Lincoln, whom were besides her painting a column, also turned to see who had entered said room. Bellick entered the room with Sucre behind him, two other officers by their side, and Phoebe's heart raced. Earlier, Michael had snuck a fake phone into the room and hid it, making sure Sucre had seen him do so. It was part of their plan to test Sucre to see if they could trust him, so they could bring him on board with their escape plan, seeing as he shared a cell with them and they wouldn't be able to escape if they couldn't trust Sucre to keep the secret.

       Phoebe's heart raced, and she immediately assumed Sucre had ratted them out. She clenched her jaw, watching as Bellick patted Sucre on the back and called out one of the other inmates' names.

       "Turner! Your transfer came in, they want you in administration." Bellick called out as he ushered Sucre along and then turned on his heels with the other inmate, Turner, hot on his heels. Phoebe released a sigh of relief, her heart slowing down as she calmed down. Lincoln smiled and turned to face them.

       "He didn't talk." Lincoln said with a small grin, turning and placing his bucket of paint on a table besides him, stirring some more paint into the bucket. Sucre slowly approached Michael with a serious look on his face.

       "All I gotta say is, I better get to make all the phone calls I want." Sucre said and clenched his jaw, avoiding eye contact and staring straight ahead at the column that Michael was painting. Phoebe clenched her jaw as she listened closely, but decided not to butt in. Michael tilted his head and stepped closer to Sucre.

       "Gonna be kinda hard." Michael responded, staring at the side of Sucre's face as he pulled the fake phone from his pocket and handed it to Sucre. Sucre's face softened a bit as he looked at Michael and then took the phone in his hand and looked down at it. Upon feeling the strange tacky material in his hands, Sucre furrowed his brows and snapped the phone in half in his hands, the strong smell of soap wafting in the air afterwards.

       "Soap?" Sucre asked in disbelief as he stared at Michael. The two remained silent for a few seconds before Sucre angrily tossed the pieces of broken soap at Michael's chest. "I lost my conjugals over soap?!" He snapped in anger and annoyance. Phoebe bit the inside of her cheek nervously, and she only hoped a fight wouldn't ensue.

       "You may have lost your conjugals, but I can do you one better." Michael said, pausing as he stared at Sucre and examined his expressions. "I can get you to her." He finally said.

       "To Maricruz?" Sucre asked in disbelief, tilting his head. Phoebe dipped her brush back into her now-empty metal bucket of green paint, walking over besides Lincoln and pouring herself some more paint, the thick liquid spilling into the bucket, the strong scent of paint wafting into her nose. She quite enjoyed the scent.

       "Okay, I'm actually about to shit myself. What if he says no, or tattles?" She questioned quietly to Lincoln as Sucre and Michael continued talking quietly behind them. Lincoln chuckled as he continued to mix his paint around in his own bucket in a lousy attempt to seem busy.

       "Don't panic just yet. He might agree..." Lincoln said as he shrugged and stepped away from Phoebe, moving back to the column he had been previously painting. Phoebe sighed nervously and turned back to her spot, paying attention to Michael and Sucre's conversation again as she dipped her thick brush into the paint and then applied it to the wall in front of her.

      "To tell you the truth, it's already started." Michael admitted quietly as he placed his hand on Sucre's shoulder and ushered him along closer to where Phoebe was standing in order to avoid any eavesdroppers. Sucre scrunched his face up in anger.

      "Are you crazy?!" Sucre whisper-yelled angrily. Phoebe's heart began to race, her grip tightened on the brush in her hand. "You think I want to break out of here?! Sixteen months from now, I'm out the gate. I'm getting married papi, and I'm sure as hell not doing it with no posse on my ass. Man, I oughta beat you six ways till Sunday! I lost my conjugals pendejo, because of your little bar of soap!" Sucre sneered. Michael remained calm, but Phoebe was biting the insides of her cheeks like there was no tomorrow. She knew this wasn't gonna go well.

       "I had to test you." Michael said to him calmly. "See if you could keep a secret." Sucre scoffed and shook his head as he stepped closer to Michael.

       "You want a secret?" Sucre said quietly and calmly. "I got a secret for you, fish. You or your friend dig in my cell while I'm there, and I'm gonna split your wig. Tu me estás entendiendo?" Sucre threatened as he tapped a finger to his head.

[ Do you understand me? ]

       Sucre stormed off angrily, leaving Michael behind in surprise and disbelief. Michael sighed and turned to face Phoebe, who was biting her lip nervously.

      "That went well." Michael said.