Fiction by Deborah Wilbrink

Deborah Douglas Wilbrink lives between Asheville, North Carolina and Barcelona, where she participates in a worker's collective by performing folk music for neighborhood associations. Retiring from ghostwriting over 50 memoirs for the not-so-famous, in the last year her stories were published in Asymptote, Dead Mule School of Southern Literature, Bright Flash Literary Review, and more. Deborah was awarded a residency at Can Serrat where she finished Free Tits and Other Stories from the Second Wave, forthcoming in 2026 (seeking agency). Deborah has been a U.S. Senate aide and a cemetery manager, a teacher and a murder ballad specialist. Her latest song is on YouTube, "Debrina's on Fire". 

Alcatraz Honeymoon

Not many single girls visit Seminole State Park. It’s kinda out of the way, on the Florida Georgia line and it’s not on the freeway. Today, there’s a new law enforcement group on a training exercise using the target range, and the head ranger, Johnny, asks you to set it up for them. The trainees are wearing name badges and you take note of one girl in particular. You admire her marksmanship, “That’s spot on, Louise.” She has a shy smile, but you’re a pretty good guy with the jokes and you get her laughing. You like the group so you show off the park, taking them to see the pier, canoes, pool, the wooden hiking trail map by the parking lot. Seminole has a lot more to offer than the target range.\At the pier, Louise gives you a flirty look and says, “I could like it here.”

This girl has a nice figure and she went to college too and she has a career in mind. There are lots of jobs in law enforcement everywhere. Your cousin works in law enforcement management not too far from here and he knows a lot of people in that field. He’s always looking for employees. Maybe Louise would like to chat about that.

She does. Louise has a lot to say.

The parks are everywhere too, but it was hard to get this job, there aren’t many openings. You’re a ranger for now, but Johnny likes your work and it’s not hard to imagine you being an assistant supervisor before long. You chat about that too, and about her goal: to move up to the FBI one day. You end up with her phone number.

Louise is fun to talk to. She likes to go to church and you agree, yep, that’s an important one, even if you have to work every other Sunday. She runs on a machine at her gym, that’s not as fun as running on the trails in the park, but you compare miles and you have to admit, she looks fit. Louise jokes that she has to be ready to wrestle down a criminal, but she doesn’t laugh when she says it. Talking doesn’t cut it so you arrange to visit, and soon that’s how you spend your days off.

It's about a four-hour drive to get to Louise and her parents’ house in Peachtree City, almost to Atlanta. Louise is their only child and it’s a good thing that they like you. The movie theater in the big mall always has something new to see. Louise likes to see the crime and cop movies, but she says her favorite movie is an old one, Escape from Alcatraz.

There’s a park nearby where you can walk around a little lake with swans in it. Rangers probably keep an eye on the swans. Louise talks about her job as a probation officer and how it’s different from a ranger’s, more people problems. Park rangers deal with people too, though, a lot. Louise’s mama cooks a good dinner before the long drive back to Lake Seminole. She’s a good cook, is Louise? You eat your own cooking at the Park.

This routine gets to be regular, and Escape from Alcatraz turns out to be a great action movie that Louise plays on their home theater. This happens a few times, but you can only take so much of Clint Eastwood. Lousie gets it, so she brings out another movie called The Rock, a thriller that takes place—you guessed it—in Alcatraz. It’s more recent though. Louise whispers that you remind her of Clint.

These visits go on for a few months, and the truck is getting a good many miles on it. The radio is tuned to pop. When it plays love songs, the truck seems to bounce along in time to the music.

You used to drive to Dad’s on weekends, but now he starts coming to Lake Seminole to fish so you two can have a good visit after the workday is over. You don’t say much and neither does he, but he gets the idea about Louise, how she’s getting to be important. There are few single girls dropping by Seminole State Park and you know what you want in life. A happy family and a loving wife are going to be the start of it all. It could happen soon. 

In the park near her house, Louise looks at the swans and then at her watch. You turn her gently towards you and look in her eyes. She says yes. 

There’s plans to make. Louise is on a clear career path and she likes living close to her mother and it looks like that’s not up for discussion. You think of a scene from the movie, when the Warden says, “Inmates here have no say in what they do; they do as they're told,” but you push that thought away, smile and get a kiss. It’s settled.

So now on Saturdays, as soon as you jump out of the truck at her house, she starts talking about the wedding. Though Louise’s mother is handling most of the details, there’s no time for movies, no comedies, not even old favorite Clint Eastwood. And it’s not just planning for the wedding, there’s planning to do for after that, too. Louise is pretty funny, though, when it comes to deciding what she wants in the mall’s furniture stores. Now you know you want that too, she says, even when the price is not right. Installment plan, she says. Easy to afford it on installment plan. She’s right. Credit applications are easy for young people who don’t have credit problems or even any credit yet. A good payment record on your student loan helps.

An engaged couple gets more consideration from parents than a dating couple. Pretty soon you’re staying over on their sofa and going with the family to church on Sundays, so the drive isn’t so bad anymore. The preacher makes sense and talks a lot about love and that’s what this is about, right?

The planning is done and the Big Day is here. The wedding is at Louise’s church in Peachtree City. Johnny drives up from Seminole to be your best man. You look great in the suit and Louise is as pretty as a swan in her white dress. The families line up in their separate groups for the pictures. Your family chats while they wait: He found the right girl, somebody to settle down with. Dad is pretty surprised to hear that you’re leaving Lake Seminole, though. He doesn’t say anything but he turns red, a bad sign. There’s lots of family here and soon he’s talking and laughing with them and his face returns to normal color.

Finally, it’s time to leave for the honeymoon. Louise has been saving herself and you’re excited that you will both make that real commitment, real soon. Tonight, when you arrive.

It's a long plane ride and then a cab, and Lousie is tired and so are you. The honeymoon night is not as much fun as you had hoped, but there’s years ahead to work that out.

Now you’re up early because Here You Are in Alcatraz! The honeymoon is in California because Louise wants to see the old federal pen, the cell block, the warden’s house. The tour leaves right from the hotel.

“Bring your own water,” the guide says. “There’s no running water on the island.”

Alcatraz is Spanish for pelican, but there aren’t any here. It’s part of the Golden Gate National Park, but there’s a lot more wildlife at Seminole. Thirty-six men made escape attempts from Alcatraz, but they were caught or killed, all but six of them, like in the movie. You wouldn’t like to be here long either; you’d have considered making that swim from Alcatraz, yourself.

Louise was a little disappointed that she couldn’t visit San Quentin Prison, but you have to be a relative to see an execution. This is the next best thing for her, being a probation officer and all.

~~~~~~~~~~

Things change a lot when you get married. Louise likes Atlanta and that’s where you live now. Your forestry degree promised a good career in the country, but she’s a city girl and now you sell waterbeds at the mall. It’s funny some days, like when that woman couldn’t get out of the bed by herself, and you had to get the manager and to help pull her out! Some days it’s not so funny, like when it’s slow—no customers to speak of—and the windows just have a view of the mall’s parking lot. You walk the floor and try not to think about staging a fishing tournament at Lake Seminole.

The apartment is modern with a pool and the two salaries pay for it. It’s full of a lot of sweet stuff that Louise picked out at the mall: a leather sofa and two reclining chairs and a big screen TV; a top-of-the-line waterbed, of course, with matching dressers. The apartment is empty of people, though. It’s been a month and Louise doesn’t want any visitors yet. She’s talking about getting a dog, but she doesn’t like to be outside that much. Who will walk the dog? Will that mean going to the park a lot, with Louise and the dog, or will it just be you, you and the dog?

The German Shepherd puppy arrives and Louise likes it to sleep with her. It's plain she doesn’t like sleeping with you. Finally, Louise tells you why.

She was outdoors when it happened and they caught the guy later; he was on probation for assault. That experience, she says, is what got her interested in law enforcement. She likes being held when she tells you this. But the quiet hug goes no farther, then or later. It feels like Louise is not interested in having fun—not outdoors, not anything to do with her body.

Why couldn’t she tell you this before you got married?

Now Louise leaves the house before you wake up, putting notes on the refrigerator like this one: “I’ll be home late, getting groceries, there’s leftovers inside.” She gets home and goes into the bedroom and shuts the door in your face. A soft Louise, Louise, what’s the matter? doesn’t get the door open. 

“Louise, psychology is part of your studies. Isn’t there something you can do? Someone you can talk to?” She doesn’t talk to you, that’s all you know; the door stays closed.

A week of these nights facing the door, and you call Johnny and talk to him. He’s not much help. He says Lake Seminole got a bigger budget and needs another ranger.

It’s a good thing the sofa is long enough for your legs, because you like to stretch out when you sleep. But you don’t sleep much. Why isn’t Louise talking to you anymore? A few more days of this and you take the puppy for a long walk and call your mother.

“She’s doing what? You’d better go home and figure it out before she takes the furniture and leaves,” says Mom, who’s been around the block a few times herself and doesn’t like to hear you, a grown man, cry. When you get back, you knock softly, then louder, but Louise won’t open the bedroom door. You can hear that damn movie through the door, though, that guy Frank is saying, “I may have found a way outa here.” Do tell.

Mom could’ve been a fortuneteller because when you get home from work the next day, the apartment is empty. The puppy-bowls are gone, too. The only thing left is the waterbed. You should probably call Louise’s mother but you call Danny and ask if that ranger job is still open. It is.

Your wife leaving you without a word is a kick in the gut, but you know how divorce works alright from watching your own parents. Just because you marry in a Baptist church doesn’t make it permanent. You didn’t know Louise very well when you got married. You know the lines from Escape from Alcatraz better than you know your wife, but you know you’ll find out more in court. Your lawyer reminds you that the credit cards are in one name: yours.

“Wait till the honeymoon is over,” Dad joked on your wedding day. 

You can see what he means.