“No, sir.”
Warden Brannigan nodded understandingly. “I understand your fear, but I can’t allow the inmates to run this prison. I want to punish whoever did this to you, but I’ll need your testimony. I’ll see that you’re protected. Now, I want you to tell me exactly what happened and who was responsible.”
Tracy looked him in the eye. “I was. I fell off my bunk.”
The warden studied her a long time, and she could see the disappointment cloud his face. “Are you quite sure?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You won’t change your mind?”
“No, sir.”
Warden Brannigan sighed. “All right. If that’s your decision. I’ll have you transferred to another cell where—”
“I don’t want to be transferred.”
He looked at her in surprise. “You mean you want to go back to the same cell?”
“Yes, sir.”
He was puzzled. Perhaps he had been wrong about her; maybe she had invited what had happened to her. God only knew what those damned female prisoners were thinking or doing. He wished he could be transferred to some nice, sane men’s prison, but his wife and Amy, his small daughter, liked it here. They all lived in a charming cottage, and there were lovely grounds around the prison farm. To them, it was like living in the country, but he had to cope with these crazy women twenty-four hours a day.
He looked at the young woman sitting before him and said awkwardly, “Very well. Just stay out of trouble in the future.”
“Yes, sir.”
Returning to her cell was the most difficult thing Tracy had ever done. The moment she stepped inside she was assailed by the horror of what had happened there. Her cell mates were away at work. Tracy lay on her bunk, staring at the ceiling, planning. Finally, she reached down to the bottom of her bunk and pried a piece of the metal side loose. She placed it under her mattress. When the 11:00 A.M. lunch bell rang, Tracy was the first to line up in the corridor.
In the mess hall, Paulita and Lola were seated at a table near the entrance. There was no sign of Ernestine Littlechap.
Tracy chose a table filled with strangers, sat down, and finished every bite of the tasteless meal. She spent the afternoon alone in her cell. At 2:45 her three cell mates returned.
Paulita grinned with surprise when she saw Tracy. “So you came back to us, pretty pussy. You liked what we did to you, huh?”
“Good. We got more for you,” Lola said.
Tracy gave no indication that she heard their taunting. She was concentrating on the black woman. Ernestine Littlechap was the reason Tracy had come back to this cell. Tracy did not trust her. Not for a moment. But she needed her.
I’m gonna give you a tip, querida. Ernestine Littlechap runs this place…
That night, when the fifteen-minute warning bell sounded for lights out, Tracy rose from her bunk and began to undress. This time there was no false modesty. She stripped, and the Mexican woman gave a long, low whistle as she looked at Tracy’s full, firm breasts and her long, tapering legs and creamy thighs. Lola was breathing hard. Tracy put on a nightgown and lay back on her bunk. The lights went out. The cell was in darkness.
Thirty minutes went by. Tracy lay in the dark listening to the breathing of the others.
Across the cell, Paulita whispered, “Mama’s gonna give you some real lovin’ tonight. Take off your nightgown, baby.”
“We’re gonna teach you how to eat pussy, and you’ll do it till you get it right,” Lola giggled.
Still not a word from the black woman. Tracy felt the rush of wind as Lola and Paulita came at her, but Tracy was ready for them. She lifted the piece of metal she had concealed in her hand and swung with all her might, hitting one of the women in the face. There was a scream of pain, and Tracy kicked out at the other figure and saw her fall to the floor.
“Come near me again and I’ll kill you,” Tracy said.
“You bitch!”
Tracy could hear them start for her again, and she raised the piece of metal.