Tracy found it difficult to breathe. Just talking about the escape made her tremble. Nobody gives a shit if they bring you back dead or alive…They figure dead is better.
In a few days she would be making her break for freedom. She had no illusions: The odds were against her. They would eventually find her and bring her back. But there was something she had sworn to take care of first.
The prison grapevine knew all about the contest that had been fought between Ernestine Littlechap and Big Bertha over Tracy. Now that the word was out that Tracy was being transferred to Big Bertha’s cell, it was no accident that no one had mentioned anything to Big Bertha about Tracy’s escape plan: Big Bertha did not like to hear bad news. She was often apt to confuse the news with the bearer and treat that person accordingly. Big Bertha did not learn about Tracy’s plan until the morning the escape was to take place, and it was revealed to her by the trusty who had taken Tracy’s picture.
Big Bertha took the news in ominous silence. Her body seemed to grow bigger as she listened.
“What time?” was all she asked.
“This afternoon at two o’clock, Bert. They’re gonna hide her in the bottom of a laundry hamper in the utility room.”
Big Bertha thought about it for a long time. Then she waddled over to a matron and said, “I gotta see Warden Brannigan right away.”
Tracy had not slept all night. She was sick with tension. The months she had been in prison seemed like a dozen eternities. Images of the past flashed through her mind as she lay on her bunk, staring into the dark.
I feel like a princess in a fairy tale, Mother. I didn’t know anyone could be this happy.
So! You and Charles want to get married.
How long a honeymoon are you planning?
You shot me, you bitch!…
Your mother committed suicide….
I never really knew you….
The wedding picture of Charles smiling at his bride…
How many eons ago? How many planets away?
The morning bell clanged through the corridor like a shock wave. Tracy sat up on her bunk, wide awake. Ernestine was watching her. “How you feelin’, girl?”
“Fine,” Tracy lied. Her mouth was dry, and her heart was beating erratically.
“Well, we’re both leavin’ here today.”
Tracy found it hard to swallow. “Uh-huh.”
“You sure you kin get away from the warden’s house by one-thirty?”
“No problem. Amy always takes a nap after lunch.”
Paulita said, “You can’t be late, or it won’t work.”
“I’ll be there.”
Ernestine reached under her mattress and took out a roll of bills. “You’re gonna need some walkin’ around money. It’s only two hundred bucks, but it’ll get you on your way.”
“Ernie, I don’t know what to—”
“Oh, jest shut up, girl, and take it.”
Tracy forced herself to swallow some breakfast. Her head was pounding, and every muscle in her body ached. I’ll never make it through the day, she thought. I’ve got to make it through the day.
There was a strained, unnatural silence in the kitchen, and Tracy suddenly realized she was the cause of it. She was the object of knowing looks and nervous whispers. A breakout was about to happen, and she was the heroine of the drama. In a few hours she would be free. Or dead.
She rose from her unfinished breakfast and headed for Warden Brannigan’s house. As Tracy waited for a guard to unlock the corridor door, she came face-to-face with Big Bertha. The huge Swede was grinning at her.
She’s going to be in for a big surprise, Tracy thought.
She’s all mine now, Big Bertha thought.
The morning passed so slowly that Tracy felt she would go out of her mind. The minutes seemed to drag on interminably. She read to Amy and had no idea what she was reading. She was aware of Mrs. Brannigan watching from the window.
“Tracy, let’s play hide-and-seek.”
Tracy was too nervous to play games, but she dared not do anything to arouse Mrs. Brannigan’s suspicions. She forced a smile. “Sure. Why don’t you hide first, Amy?”