Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
The guards shouted at the women to line up for the midday meal and herded them inside the building in a single file, like elementary schoolchildren marching to the lunchroom. The cafeteria, a large, cavernous space, held about three hundred inmates. To offset the institutional color of the dull tan walls, inspirational posters offered advice like Live Your Best Life and Determination Is the Key to Success . People smiling while performing their various jobs accompanied the banal maxims. Due to reforms prompted by investigations into the food served at prisons and jails, CIFW served better, more nutritious meals that tried to incorporate fresh vegetables, meats, and fruits into each offering. The result was a healthier population ready to integrate back into society upon their release. Issues such as heart disease, diabetes, high cholesterol, and blood pressure were greatly reduced. Those who suffered from existing medical conditions had a better chance of managing their health with proper treatment, diet, and exercise.
But women were dying of drug overdoses.
Tawny had yet to discover how the drugs were getting into the prison. Bette’s revelation, though, stunned her, and she hoped to be able to tactfully question her in more detail about what happened to Lucy.
Jo and her crew invited Tawny to eat with them at their table. Mealtimes in the cafeteria weren’t any different from a school environment. The women divided themselves into cliques and claimed their tables. Tawny found that out the hard way on her first day when she attempted to sit at a table that belonged to a clique. She’d been yanked off the bench-style seat, and her food tray dumped on the floor. Since she couldn’t go through the line again, she bought snacks from the commissary to tide her over until the next meal. Two weeks later, one of those women had picked a fight with her, and she found out the hard way not to mess with Tawny.
Tawny scanned the crowded cafeteria for Bette and saw her eating with her clique at their table near the back of the area. She caught Bette’s eye momentarily before the other woman looked away.
Bette’s afraid. She’s said too much.
Now she wanted more than ever to have a private conversation with her.
After lunch, Tawny headed toward one of the institution’s classrooms where she tutored a small group of four women. It resembled a lab with several desktop computers, three round tables and chairs, and a two-shelf black bookcase with study materials. Tawny directed three of the women to start working on Khan Academy, an online program that helped students prepare for exams such as the SAT, while she gave the fourth woman, Andee, individual attention. The goal was for her pupils to earn their GEDs.
Thirty minutes into solving simple algebraic equations, Andee grew frustrated and threw her pencil across the room. “This is stupid! I don’t want to earn a GED that ain’t worth the paper it’s written on.”
“What do you want?” Tawny asked.
“To earn a regular high school diploma conferred upon me by the great state of California,” Andee replied decisively. “Then, I can start college classes and earn my law degree. I want to practice family law so I can protect kids whose parents are assholes.”
Tawny admired her conviction. “All right, then. Let’s see what we can do.”
They explored options, and in the end, she helped Andee enroll in adult education classes online. Her hug of appreciation made Tawny’s incarceration easier to bear.
After her tutoring session, Tawny wandered into the common room and asked a group of women playing cards if they knew Bette or had seen her.
“I think she has laundry duty right now,” one replied. “Wanna join us, Tawny? We’ll deal you in for a pack of gum.”
“Sure.” She sat in an empty chair and tossed a pack of Juicy Fruit into the center of the card table. Gum, she’d soon learned, was a good bribe. So were cigarettes.
An hour later, a hard rain pounded against the roof and hit the windowpanes of the common room. The women grew bored playing cards and left the game. Some returned to their cells for a nap and others plopped down in front of the widescreen TV mounted on a wall where a Hallmark movie teased them with the idea of a life they’d never have for themselves. Knowing this, they poked fun at the conventions of a sweet romance. Tawny smiled to herself as she listened to their banter. One by one, Justice, Owen, and Hutch had succumbed to the power of love. And now that Mallory’s husband Bentley Hayes was dead, she and Luca were free to reunite.
She prayed for a happy ending to her own love story.
When the movie ended, someone changed the channel to an afternoon talk show, and the conversation grew louder as the women reacted to the guests and the topic being discussed. Craving some peace and quiet, Tawny rose to her feet with a book she intended to read in her cell until dinnertime. As she headed out of the common room, Jo fell in step with her.
“You look serious, Tawny. What ‘cha thinkin’ about?”
“You’re gonna think I’m crazy. Bette’s theory.”
Jo frowned. “It’s kinda got me spooked.”
Tawny lowered her voice when she spoke. “Did you know Bette’s cellmate, what was her name? Lucy something?”
“Not personally. The previous warden made her a trustee, so she had a lot of freedom. Lucy tried to help some of us, keep us outta trouble. Far as I know, none of us had anything against her. Warden Stoltz? Couldn’t stand her from what I heard. He doesn’t like us to have any privileges, so he started finding reasons to take away Lucy’s.”
“Like accusing her of using drugs?”
“Something like that.”
They arrived at Tawny’s cell, and Jo followed her inside. “Jo, Bette said Lucy died from a drug overdose. Is that unusual? I mean, isn’t it hard to get drugs inside the prison?”
“Not under our old warden. He ran a tight ship. He knew exactly how drugs were coming in, which guards were dirty doin’ it, and he got rid of them. We were happier and safer. Now, visitors can pass drugs to us, and the guards look the other way.”
Tawny inhaled a deep breath and decided to take a leap of faith. “I overheard some of the other women gossipin’ about inmates disappearin’.” She opened the door and waited for Jo to walk through it.
Jo sank onto Tawny’s narrow metal bunk bed with its thin mattress and drew her down, too. “I heard the rumors. Even knew one of ‘em. Nixie. Sweetest girl you’d ever want to meet. Got busted for prostitution. Twenty years old, she didn’t belong in here.”
“Let me guess. Judge Cohen sent her.”
Jo’s dark eyes flared with understanding. “Jesus, he did.”
“How long was Nixie here before she disappeared?”
“About three months. Nixie was real excited because she’d been chosen to attend fire school. Said it was her ticket out of a bad life. No family, no money, abusive boyfriend who pimped her out. If you finish the program, you owe Cal Fire two years of your life. Ain’t a bad deal, neither. Wish I was one of the lucky ones to get picked.”
“How do we get picked?”
Jo shrugged and took a handful of pretzels Tawny offered her. “Hell, if I know. Seems kinda random to me.”
“So, did Nixie ever start fire school?” Tawny’s mind spun with a myriad of possibilities and connections, none of them good regarding the firefighter program. Women chosen randomly like her and Yolanda without anyone on the outside who cared about them. Women disappeared or died from drug overdoses. None of the inmates knew someone who’d been chosen for fire school and completed the program. Some of the puzzle pieces fell into place and provided Tawny with an idea of the bigger picture, but she needed more of the pieces.
“Yeah. It’s in the hills above Chino. Nixie liked it. Said it was hard work, and scary when you’re in the middle of a fire, but she was happy. Then, one day, she wasn’t. Clammed up real tight, wouldn’t talk to no one. She was like that for ‘bout a week when she disappeared.”
“What do you think happened to her?”
Jo chewed and swallowed the pretzel in her mouth. She glanced toward the empty corridor and cells. “We’re not supposed to be havin’ this conversation.”
“I got picked for fire school this morning.”
“Jesus!” Jo leaned closer. “They said Nixie graduated from the program. But before, they used to make a big deal ‘bout it. Fire chief himself would come to the ceremony in the chapel, and we was all invited. Not now. Now, there’s just this vague announcement. Or they say the missing ones transferred to another facility.” She grabbed Tawny’s arm, and her eyes grew round with fear and concern. “Don’t do it. Tell the warden you ain’t into fightin’ fires.”
Tawny didn’t see Yolanda until dinnertime. Her face was swollen from the dental work, and Tawny could see she was in pain from the look in her eyes. She ate a couple of bites of mashed potatoes, then pushed her plate toward another inmate who eagerly accepted the gift.
“Yolanda, I’m really sorry about your teeth. I never meant to hurt you like that.” Tawny’s stomach twisted into knots, and she dropped her fork.
Yolanda nodded and offered a lopsided smile that was more like a grimace.
“If you ain’t gonna eat,” one of the other inmates interjected, “I’ll take yours.”
Tawny waved at her tray and rose to her feet. “Be my guest.”
She and Yolanda wandered into the common room and huddled in a corner together. Some of the other inmates eyed them with suspicion, maybe afraid the pair would gang up on them.
“I’ve been waiting all day to tell you this,” Tawny whispered. “We got picked for fire school.”
Yolanda’s deep brown eyes widened in surprise a moment before fear took its place. “T, no. I ain’t no firefighter.”
“Neither am I. But listen, Yolanda. It’s our ticket out of this hellhole. We graduate from the program, we get paroled. Yeah, sure, Cal Fire owns us for two years, but maybe we can get trained to be something else, like an EMT or a 911 operator.”
“But I can’t read that well. I’ll flunk the classes.”
“I can help you through them. The rest is all physical. Aside from kicking the shit outta each other, we’re in great shape.”
“I’m scared. I’ve heard things like how there hasn’t been fire camp since Nixie disappeared.”
“I know about her. I don’t want you to worry. We’ll take care of each other. Blood sisters, remember?”
Yolanda nodded, but the fear remained in her eyes.
Tawny hated nights in the facility the most. At ten o’clock, a guard pressed a button in the control room, and the cell doors slid shut. Guards paced up and down the cell blocks yelling, “Lights out, ladies!” Sometimes they called them “ladies,” other times cruder names. Amid the jangling of the guards’ keys and other sounds typical of nights in prison, Tawny heard the mournful sobs of the women who missed their loved ones, if they were lucky enough to have them, or who regretted their mistakes that cost them their freedom. Whatever the reason they shed tears, no one on Tawny’s cell block mocked them. Maybe at night, they all experienced the same unadulterated loneliness that was less intense during the day when they wore false bravado that masked their true feelings.
But at night they cried.
Tawny herself struggled with the deep despair this place perpetuated. Even though she knew her family and friends and Finnigan were waiting for her to come home unscathed from being undercover, the relentless, pervasive shroud of hopelessness and helplessness threatened to cast its long shadow over her, too. If she were able to have pictures of her loved ones, it would help to ease her loneliness. But pretending to be unloved and uncared for was part of her cover and probably the reason Warden Stoltz chose her for fire school.
She reached beneath her mattress and removed a small notepad and a two-inch flashlight. Other inmates had little lights, too, that the guards ignored. If someone complained, they’d be confiscated, but no one ever did. Perhaps the women found solace in the dim light. After she read over her previous entries, Tawny began to write.
Met Jo and Bette today. Learned some interesting information about their pasts. Looks like we have similar stories. Old Stoltz is sending me to fire school. I made sure Yolanda is part of the deal. Feel bad about knocking out her teeth. I helped Andee enroll in adult education, so happy she’s moving forward. I guess I am, too.
The prison psychologist who ran group therapy suggested journaling as a way for the women to express their innermost thoughts and feelings they didn’t want to share with anyone else. Tawny kept her entries vague, so anyone who might read them wouldn’t know how she coded them to keep track of her case. Fire school and Bette’s theory were the first promising leads she’d had since entering the institution. Talking privately with Bette was at the top of Tawny’s list for the following day. After adding a few more innocuous sentences, she returned the notepad and flashlight to their hiding place and settled in for the night.
At breakfast the next morning, Tawny sat with Jo, Andee, and Yolanda. She made eye contact with Bette and beckoned her to join them, but she ignored the gesture and shuffled toward another group.
“What’s wrong with her?” Jo asked. “She’s been actin’ like we ain’t good enough for her.”
“Loose lips,” Tawny replied. A warning rang in her voice.
The others took the hint, and their conversation turned loud and bawdy.
Breakfast ended, and the women headed toward their various assigned jobs. Today, Tawny, Jo, and Yolanda volunteered for kitchen duty. The camaraderie building between them promised a bright beginning to an otherwise dreary day. Because it continued to rain, the women were stuck indoors. After spending a couple of hours in the common room watching the morning talk shows and playing games, Tawny and a few others were taken to the showers. Then, she was escorted to the infirmary, where Dr. Sadler checked her injuries and administered another dose of multivitamins and antibiotics.
“You’re doing great, Tawny. Your color is better, too.”
“I got to spend some time outside yesterday. Guess what?”
“What?” Dr. Sadler smiled at her playfulness before she turned her back to sort medical supplies.
“Warden Stoltz offered me and Yolanda spots in the fire program.”
Dr. Sadler froze a moment before she continued with her task. “Oh?” Tension resonated in the doctor’s voice.
“Is that all you’re going to say?”
When Dr. Sadler turned to face Tawny, her face was blank. Tawny studied her eyes to see if they betrayed her, but they did not. They, too, were devoid of any emotion. But she was sure the doctor knew something.
“Good luck. And be careful.”
“Why the warning?” Tawny challenged her.
Dr. Sadler answered without missing a beat, “Because fighting fires is a dangerous job.”
“I’m not afraid of dangerous work. And I don’t believe that’s why you warned me to be careful.”
“You’re free to believe whatever you’d like. It’s the truth. All I’m asking is that you heed my warning and not take any risks with your life.”
“Duly noted, Doc.”
Tawny returned to her cell for a respite afterward. On her bed, she found the book True Lies. The title reminded her of the movie starring Arnold Schwarzenegger and Jamie Lee Curtis. She smiled. She’d seen it a dozen times and never tired of watching it, especially with Finnigan on date night.
Tawny picked up the book and turned to a marked page where someone had circled a message in pen.
“I know who you are.”
Tawny’s heart leaped into her throat. She shut the book and glanced around to see if anyone was lurking outside her cell. All clear. Her pulse raced in rhythm with her chaotic heartbeat. Who had figured out her real identity? And then the answer hit her.
Bette. Lucy’s cellmate.