A Better Tomorrow

Leaving on a jet plane, time for me to leave Panama

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BY SIMONE J. SMITH

There were other girls that were leaving that day. They were already being processed in the main building. I was instructed to sit down, so I took a seat and waited to be called up.

It didn’t take too long; I saw the woman before me go into a tent, and after a few moments, she exited.

“Simone!”

I looked towards the voice. The woman behind the desk was looking at me intently. I got up and walked over.

“Sign these.” She pushed papers towards me. It was written in Spanish, so I asked her, “What am I signing?’

“You are signing yourself out. These are your release papers.” She handed me the pen. I stood there holding the papers. I realized that even though I had no idea what I was signing, I had no choice.

I signed, and she pointed towards the tent. “You have to do your last inspection.”

I walked towards the tent, and the officer opened up the tent drape. Two women officers were inside. They gestured for me to spread my legs; this was the one part of this experience that had really bothered me. It was so demeaning. The one officer slid her hands over my arms, and down the sides of my body. She started from the bottom of my legs and slid her hands up. She indicated to me to turn around. She did the same check, and then instructed me to bend over. I know I would not miss this part of the experience.

They completed the inspection and sent me to wait by the gate. There was a van parked and waiting for the women who were leaving that day. They opened the van door, and we climbed in. As the van pulled away, I looked back wistfully. I was going to miss my newfound friends.

It was about a forty-five-minute drive to the airport from the prison. When we arrived, they unloaded us, and each woman was directed up the stairs and placed in a room. When I entered the room, I saw the suitcases that had been kept separately from the one that I had brought to the prison. While I was waiting, I began to go through my stuff. I noticed right away that there were certain items missing. I checked in my small bag and saw that the money I had put in there was missing.

I checked some of the other pockets to see if it had been put somewhere else. While I was checking, three officers walked in. They had some paperwork with them, along with a pair of handcuffs.

“Simone, these are the air marshals who will be taking you back to America”. I looked over at the air marshals. It was a man and woman; they stood there with stoic expressions on their faces.

“I have a question; I left some money here in my suitcase, and it has gone missing.”

The officer looked at me and smirked, “Welcome to a third world country.”

I wasn’t too sure what to think about what he had just said to me. Did he just tell me that the money was taken, and I should have expected it? I just looked at him. What was I supposed to say now?

The officers spoke to each other for a few minutes. I just sat there. After that last comment, I just wanted to get out of there. I saw the air marshals sign some paperwork, and they turned back to me.

“Let’s get going, Simone. Our flight is leaving in forty-five minutes. It’s up to you, we don’t have to put cuffs on if you don’t want to.”

“Please, I would prefer not to walk through the airport with cuffs on.”

“No problem! Let’s get going then.”

The officers grabbed my suitcases and pointed towards the door. I took a deep breath and stood up.

Finally, I thought to myself. I just wanted to get out of this place.

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