Insiders

by Olivia Goldsmith

  ‘Hey you! Debutante! Wake up and get to work,’ shouted Flora.

  Jennifer squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and wiped away her tears. The astringent odor of bleach from the wet laundry burned her eyes as she continued with the soul-numbing labor.

  That night, back in the cell, Suki took one of her chafed hands, looked into Jennifer’s eyes, and asked why she had been crying. ‘I think I must be allergic to the soaps and stuff,’ Jen told her.

  ‘Yeah? What detergent did you use at home?’ Suki asked. Jen was too ashamed to tell her that she hadn’t done her own laundry in almost a decade. Instead she merely blamed the red and swollen puffiness on the bleach. She wasn’t going to admit to any weakness – not even to Suki. She decided that she was going to close the door on that existential chasm of anxiety threatening to swallow her. She’d trust Tom’s love and Donald’s respect for her. She had to. She had nothing else in which to trust or believe. There was one good thing about the work in the laundry: She would sleep tonight.

  Suki was sitting quietly in the chair next to the table, patting her belly. ‘You sure you’re okay, Jenny?’ she asked.

  Jennifer mumbled only a ‘Yeah’ in reply. Lately, Jennifer had begun to doubt that Suki was pregnant at all. She certainly didn’t appear any fatter. It could simply be a pathetic attempt to get more attention from the crew.

  ‘Me and the girls had a pretty greasy supper,’ Suki admitted. ‘How was yours?’ she asked as she stood up and started to get ready for bed.

  Jennifer didn’t answer. She didn’t want to talk about her supper. She didn’t want to talk at all. She turned her back to the well-meaning girl and stared at the wall, willing her eyes to pierce the dirty pink concrete and to look beyond to the walls of her own beautiful apartment. What wall is Tom looking at tonight? she wondered.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Suki spoke in a whisper, ‘but I have to use the toilet.’

  Jennifer merely grunted. A moment later Suki grunted as well. Every tired and aching muscle in Jennifer’s body threatened to cramp in the dank, sick chill of nausea that washed over her. She shut her eyes tightly and tried to deny the reality that Suki was suffering from diarrhea just inches from her head. Her own stomach was about to betray her as it churned the prison meal that she had so hungrily devoured.

  The lights-out bell rang in concert with Suki’s flush, and as Jennifer was plunged into the dark and horrifying reality of where she was, the last thing that she saw was the dirty pink paint on the wall.

  ‘Sorry,’ Suki said again as she slipped into her bunk. ‘It’ll be morning before you know it.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Jennifer assured her. ‘I just hate these damn pink walls, that’s all.’

  ‘Yeah, I try always to tell myself that it’s the color of a sunset,’ Suki said.

  Jennifer let out a derisive snort of disbelief. ‘Uh huh,’ she sighed, ‘a sunset.’ She closed her eyes and tried to envision the sky; she couldn’t remember the last time she had really looked at it. Somehow she was always rushing, always looking down at her computer screen or a memo or a proposal.

  Jennifer stretched, and in the dark her hand reached out and brushed against something warm. It was another hand and it held hers. Then, all along her left side she felt Tom’s long lean body beside her. ‘Get closer,’ he whispered as he often did when they made love. ‘Get closer.’

  Beneath her Jennifer felt the sand give and she rolled into position beside him. ‘Let’s stay like this all night,’ he whispered, and she could feel his arms tighten around her. She couldn’t speak; there was something in her throat, but she could nod and in her mind she said, ‘Let’s stay like this forever.’

  ‘Yes, forever,’ Tom agreed, and for a moment she wondered how he could hear her thoughts. Then she opened her eyes. ‘Look,’ he said. ‘It’s the dawn.’ And she could see that they were lying on a beach and that a thin line of light was illuminated along the horizon. The sky was just beginning to color and she remembered that they’d been married and now they were on their honeymoon. How could I have forgotten that? she thought, and she felt Tom laughing beside her. Now that they were married and on this beach, she realized that she would never have to struggle again. It had all been worth it: The studying and the competition for grades and scholarships and the work on the papers she had written and all the time she’d put in on the job had paid off with this. His arms were around her and he loved her and the warm sea was beginning to turn the palest aqua as light continued to fill the sky. It was the most beautiful dawn she had ever seen and Jennifer felt her heart beating in her chest against Tom’s own heartbeat. She would never have to be alone or frightened again. She felt a deep peace flow into her as if it had come in on a wave from the Caribbean and washed away all of her anxiety. She was safe. She was loved. She was not alone.

  It was the smell more than the noise that woke her. The sour, stomach-rocking scent of vomit was in her nose, down her throat. She opened her eyes and realized with horror that she’d been dreaming. Tom, the sand, the sea and her security were all gone. She was staring, not at the sky but up at the bottom of the bunk on top of her while Suki was making awe, awe noises just two feet away from her head.

  ‘I’m sorry I woke you up,’ Suki said. Jennifer began to tremble. In the confusion of waking she couldn’t tell which was worse, losing that feeling of being bathed in Tom’s love or remembering that she was imprisoned here. All she wanted was to close her eyes and go back to that beach and that feeling. She wanted to spend the rest of her life in that dream.

  ‘You okay?’ Suki asked. ‘You were trying to talk or something in your sleep.’ Jennifer knew it was hopeless to try to return to her dream, but giving it up made her feel desperately bereft. She turned her head and looked at the exhausted blonde child who sat on the floor next to the toilet. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Suki asked her.

  Jennifer shook her head and turned her back to Suki. No, she still didn’t want to talk to Suki about her precious dream. She wanted to live it. She wasn’t one of these illiterate, victimized, stupid women. She had a future.

  She heard Suki stand up. ‘My grandmother said that a dream was God’s way of telling the brain something that the heart already knows,’ Suki told her as she rinsed the bowl of the toilet.

  Jennifer did not – could not – respond. She turned her face to the wall and pulled the blanket over her head and tucked it in. If only when she opened her eyes the next time and took the blanket down she could see something other than the dirty pink paint on the cement walls of her cell. She had a terrible feeling that she would never again feel that tremendous love from Tom.

  Jennifer tried to call Tom the next morning before laundry detail but no one answered his phone at home. His office number and his cell only got voicemail. She thought about the dozens of times he and she had looked at their caller ID and laughed or grimaced and refused to answer. I can’t let myself get paranoid, she thought. That night Jennifer tried to remain calm as she attempted, once again, to reach Tom Branston. She got to the phone in the rec room, which was the usual zoo, but she was even more than usually agitated. She was desperate to talk with him. She had to. And she had to see him. Her heart skipped as the intense feeling from her dream moved through her. She had felt so loved, and so loving. Without the dream she actually felt abandoned. Jennifer shook her head to clear away the ridiculous feeling. Tom wasn’t in the Caribbean lying on a beach with her but neither had he abandoned her. He was working to get her released.

  She waited in line again and tried his office once more. This time the phone was picked up, but by a secretary whose voice Jen didn’t recognize. ‘Please put Tom Branston on the line,’ Jennifer snapped into the phone. ‘This is Jennifer.’ She knew several of the women inmates were watching and listening, so she tried to keep her back to them and smile as she waited, but the smile quickly faded when the secretary responded.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ the voice said. ‘He can’t come to the phone.’

 
; ‘What do you mean he can’t come to the phone? You haven’t even told him who was calling!’

  ‘He asked not to be disturbed. Perhaps you can call back later.’

  Jennifer’s voice rose sharply. ‘No, I can’t call back later. I’m in prison, goddamn it!’ and she slammed down the phone.

  Jennifer looked at the clock. She had forty-five minutes before work detail and she absolutely had to hear the sound of Tom’s voice. Worse than that, she needed to be reassured that he existed – that anything Outside existed. She was watching the line of women still waiting for the phone when Movita sat down beside her. ‘Tryin’ to reach your lawyer or your boyfriend?’ she asked her, but Jennifer didn’t want to bother to explain. She just nodded her head.

  ‘What can a goose do, that a duck can’t, and a lawyer should?’ Movita asked. Jennifer shrugged. ‘Shove its bill up its ass,’ Movita said and laughed.

  To her surprise, Jennifer laughed, too. She didn’t usually like vulgarity, but the joke was so unexpected that it caught her off guard. And, Jennifer thought, it wouldn’t hurt to be nice to this woman, considering she could put in a good word for her with the Warden.

  ‘Ya’ gonna grind yer wheels right down to the spokes,’ Movita volunteered. ‘Not that you asked, and not that it’s none of my bidness. Speaking of that, what exactly was it that ya’ did on Wall Street? You some kinda hot shot, huh?’

  ‘I was in venture capital and IPOs,’ Jennifer told her.

  ‘And what would that mean?’ the woman asked.

  ‘I help companies raise money to get started or to expand.’

  ‘Any kind of company?’ Movita asked.

  ‘Just about.’

  ‘How ya’ know ‘bout all kinds of companies, all kinds of bidnesses?’

  The woman didn’t sound hostile, exactly, but she sounded more than idly curious. Jennifer was in no mood to give a lecture on stocks, capitalism, and the American way. ‘I don’t know everything about every business,’ Jennifer told her. ‘I just know how to look at the finances of a business, compare it to its past and look at its future to decide if it’s a good bet.’

  Movita looked intently into Jennifer’s eyes. ‘Ya’ usually right?’ she asked.

  ‘Usually,’ Jennifer told her.

  ‘Then how come you’re here?’ Movita asked.

  Jennifer shrugged. ‘No one seems to understand,’ she said. ‘I’m not supposed to be here.’

  Now it was Movita’s turn to laugh. ‘Honey, ya’ don’t understand,’ she said. ‘Ain’t none of us supposed to be here. What God of mercy would want women penned up in a place like this?’

  ‘Yeah. And kept from your children. I’m really sorry.’

  The black woman’s eyes flashed. Her whole body stiffened and Jennifer could actually see her elbows, knees, and spine tremble. ‘Look, forget about that. You was nice and that was fine, but I don’t get visitors and I don’t ‘spect them. That was just unexpected, that’s all. It won’t happen again.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Jennifer said. She hadn’t asked this crazy woman to sit down next to her and now she was sorry she had. She looked again at the line and realized that she wouldn’t get another shot at the phone before work. Movita followed her eyes.

  ‘Ya’ really need to talk to him?’ she asked. Jennifer nodded, not that it would do any good. ‘Come on,’ Movita said and walked to the front of the line.

  Jennifer followed her. ‘’Scuze me, Pearl,’ Movita said to the short Latina woman standing there waiting to be the next one at the telephone. ‘Do ya’ mind if the debutante uses the phone next? Would ya’ give up yer place to her as a special favor to me?’

  Pearl looked from Movita to Jennifer, then back to Movita. ‘Okay,’ she said, ‘for you, Mo.’ She gave Movita a nod and a look passed between them that Jennifer couldn’t read. Pearl walked away and Movita motioned for Jennifer to take her place.

  ‘Hey, wait a minute,’ said the old crone with a long gray braid who was standing next in line. Movita raised her hand, extending her fingers out.

  ‘Don’t you talk at me, Helen,’ Movita said. ‘We have a situation here. Ya’ had one person in front of ya’ a minute ago and ya’ got one person in front of ya’ now. What’s your beef?’ Helen began to talk but Movita raised her hand again. ‘Helen, don’t mouth me. Ya’ like to take advantage, but ya’ know you’ve been in situations yourself. Hush now.’

  And the woman did. Just like that. Jennifer waited a moment to thank Movita, but she didn’t get a chance to because the woman on the phone in front of her hung up. Jennifer didn’t waste a second and ran to the waiting receiver.

  19

  Movita Watson

  I haven’t seen my daughters for five years. I know I’m their mother, and I guess they know I’m their mother, but what kind of mother is that? … Thinking about it makes me feel dead inside.

  A prisoner at the Federal Reformatory for Women in Alderson, West Virginia. Kathryn Watterson, Women in Prison

  Even before ‘the incident’, I’d have to say that the Warden and I have an interesting kinda relationship. Without ever saying a word ‘bout it, we help each other. She’s a stickler for details and likes to do everything by the book, but she can’t be blamed for that. Probably how she got the job. Anyway, she does things for me and I do things for her. It’s good for me to have this, not jus’ because of the benefits for me and the crew, but also ‘cause it keeps me busy and gives me somethin’ to think about. The thing I most hate is to have empty time to remember the past and think ‘bout the future.

  Anyway, the Warden hinted very strongly that she wanted me to take Jennifer Spencer into our crew. ‘Movita,’ she says, ‘you can help that girl.’ At first I think, fuck! I should help a rich white girl? What the fuck ever for? But then I’m thinkin’ further that maybe she has a point. I’m no hardass mean bitch and Jennifer would probably help the crew as much as we’d help her. She’s got a lot of money in the canteen – the fund for prisoners who wanted to buy extra food instead of having cafeteria crap. Of course, even so, I knew I’d have trouble with Cher. Soon as I brought the subject up I did.

  It was visitor’s day again, and as usual we were all tense as could be, especially Cher.

  ‘Why the hell should we take her in?’ Cher said, as I knew she would. ‘She ain’t done nothin’ for us ‘cept sharin’ some toothpaste!’ She was rubbin’ red pencil on her fingernails, which I thought was ridiculous.

  ‘That’s gonna come off soon as you wash,’ I said to her. ‘Why you doin’ it?’

  ‘It’s somethin’ to do,’ Cher said.

  ‘Well, it don’t even look good,’ I told her, though I didn’t blame her. Any stupid thing that passes the time here is worth doin’. Theresa puts together those same jigsaw puzzles and then, when she’s finished, she just breaks them down and starts over. Would drive me crazy, but I don’t judge her. ‘Well, I say we’ll benefit from Spencer bein’ in crew and that’s a good enough reason. It ain’t no crime for her to be rich, Cher. You would be if you could.’

  ‘Damn right I would,’ Cher answered, holding out her hands. She was trying to admire them, but she couldn’t do it. ‘Fuck. I gotta wash this shit off.’

  ‘Anyway,’ I continued, ‘it wouldn’t hurt us to have her come over, check her out some more.’

  ‘I checked her in,’ Cher said, ‘and I’m not interested.’

  I looked at Cher, compellin’ her to look back. ‘Don’t matter if you’re interested or not,’ I said to her, ‘Spencer’s in. I’ve asked Suki to bring her on over this morning.’ Cher just shrugged, but I knew she was pissed.

  You see, the thing is, with the JRU people breathin’ down our neck, and with the Warden concerned, havin’ someone like Spencer on our side might be a real good thing. Plus, the thought struck me then that once Cher was gone, which wasn’t very far away, crew’d just be me and Theresa and Suki. Lord Jesus, it was a good thing the Warden had the idea to bring Spencer in. I was gonna need somebody to talk to.
<
br />   Cher was still sulkin’ when Suki came in with Jennifer. Yeah, I thought as I looked her over, she sure does look like a rich white girl that ain’t gonna fit in. But then she says, ‘Did you want to talk to me, Movita?’ And then she smiled so nice and self-assured that I sorta figured that it might work out after all. Jennifer Spencer has a power attitude. And the Warden needs that right now. Maybe we can, between us, make it so this JRU thing ain’t as bad as it could be.

  ‘Sure did,’ I said, real casual-like. ‘I thought Suki and the rest of us could help get you all ready for visitor’s day.’

  Cher let out a disgusted little snort, but Suki just squealed she was so happy. ‘You can borrow my curlers, Jenny,’ she said.

  I’m not sure Jennifer Spencer really wanted our help, but she was goin’ to get it. Maybe it was kinda like an initiation or somethin’. Anyway, I went over and got Theresa to come and help, and after a lot of laughin’ and havin’ a good time, our new crewmate was all ready to meet her visitor.

  ‘There. You look great now,’ Suki told Spencer.

  I damn near laughed out loud when that poor, little rich white girl picked up the mirror and looked at herself. She didn’t look great at all. She looked like a cheap whore. After Suki was finished, all that smooth and silky dark hair of hers was a frizzy old mop. But Spencer didn’t say a word.

  ‘Great, huh?’ Suki asked again.

  ‘Oh yeah,’ she told Suki.

  ‘But that’s not all,’ Theresa said. ‘Look what I got for you.’ She opened her palm to show her a chapstick, but Spencer just looked at her.

  ‘Open the cap,’ Theresa said, but she pulled the cap off herself. Instead of the clear wax the stick was red. ‘Adobe Red,’ Theresa told her. ‘Here,’ she reached over and put it on her. ‘Want some for your cheeks?’ she asked.