The nurse nodded. “Do they have meds for them here?”
“We have them,” said the nurse, “but it’s hard to know who to give them to. The inmates don’t get tested regularly.”
“She needs them, obviously,” said Franny, gesturing to the woman on the cot.
“She’s on Death Row,” said the nurse. She added quickly, “But I’m sure she gets the medication she needs.”
“Want a soda?” said Hamm, again. Franny did not answer.
Franny had never thought of herself as sexist, but when the slender black woman in a blue uniform walked into the Medical Center it did not even occur to Franny that the woman could be the warden until she introduced herself. She walked straight to Franny, offering her a warm smile and a strong handshake. “I’m Warden Janice Gaddon,” she said.
“Franny Wren.”
“Dr. Wren, I can’t tell you how heartbroken we are about your uncle. I hope you know how much we relied on him.” Warden Gaddon shook her head sadly. “I can’t quite believe it,” she said.
“Well,” said Franny, “I’m just here to get the car.”
“Do you have a few minutes?”
“I suppose so.”
“My office is this way.” As she led Franny down the hallway, the warden left waves of silence in her wake. The inmates glanced down or said hello, quietly. Warden Gaddon looked straight at them and nodded a crisp reply. Her boots made a steady sound as she walked. Next to her, Franny felt young and weak.
The warden signed another log book before walking through a gate, and then they reached a steel door. “Here it is,” said Warden Gaddon. She fit a key into the door and opened it. Cold air spilled over Franny. She realized for the first time that the rest of the prison was not air-conditioned.
In marked contrast to the concrete walls and metal bars, Warden Gaddon’s office was carpeted and homey. There were framed pictures of children on the wall, and law books shared space with cooking magazines on the bookshelf. There was a coffee maker and a bowl of mints.
“Coffee?” Franny nodded, and Warden Gaddon filled a cup. She sat down behind her desk, gesturing to the couch opposite. Franny sat.
“How long do you think you’ll be in Gatestown?” said the warden.
“I have no idea,” said Franny. “I really don’t know.”
“Please let me know if you need anything, will you?”
“Thanks.”
“I can’t tell you how much I’ll miss Jack,” said Warden Gaddon, leaning back in her chair. “He was the only one who would come to work in a place like this. Most doctors…” She smiled wryly. “Most reputable doctors, anyway, wouldn’t touch this place with a ten-foot pole. Your uncle was a man who spent his whole life in Gatestown, and wanted to give back to the community. He told me so himself.” The warden’s gaze went to the window, and the field beyond it. Even here, there was no mountain view. “It was at a library fundraiser,” said the warden. “Your uncle bought me a beer and we talked for a while. I was new here, and having a tough time of it.”
“Where are you from?”
“I’m from Texas, but I never meant to end up as a warden, I can tell you that.”
Franny nodded.
“Women’s prisons are different. Frankly, I like the men’s better.”
“Why?”
“There’s something catty about the women. I don’t know. With the men, it’s very straightforward, but with the women there’s the…I guess you might say the cunning. Most women prisoners make me nervous.” Franny was intrigued. The warden continued, “The first time I had to supervise the showers here, something happened to me. I had supervised hundreds of showers, of course, but not at a women’s prison. Men’s bodies, it just never bothered me. The first time I saw the women, though, all naked in a row, it made me think of Auschwitz. It was chilling.” She paused, and then said, “My God, I’m sorry. We don’t even really know each other.”
“No, I’m interested. How did you end up
“We have them,” said the nurse, “but it’s hard to know who to give them to. The inmates don’t get tested regularly.”
“She needs them, obviously,” said Franny, gesturing to the woman on the cot.
“She’s on Death Row,” said the nurse. She added quickly, “But I’m sure she gets the medication she needs.”
“Want a soda?” said Hamm, again. Franny did not answer.
Franny had never thought of herself as sexist, but when the slender black woman in a blue uniform walked into the Medical Center it did not even occur to Franny that the woman could be the warden until she introduced herself. She walked straight to Franny, offering her a warm smile and a strong handshake. “I’m Warden Janice Gaddon,” she said.
“Franny Wren.”
“Dr. Wren, I can’t tell you how heartbroken we are about your uncle. I hope you know how much we relied on him.” Warden Gaddon shook her head sadly. “I can’t quite believe it,” she said.
“Well,” said Franny, “I’m just here to get the car.”
“Do you have a few minutes?”
“I suppose so.”
“My office is this way.” As she led Franny down the hallway, the warden left waves of silence in her wake. The inmates glanced down or said hello, quietly. Warden Gaddon looked straight at them and nodded a crisp reply. Her boots made a steady sound as she walked. Next to her, Franny felt young and weak.
The warden signed another log book before walking through a gate, and then they reached a steel door. “Here it is,” said Warden Gaddon. She fit a key into the door and opened it. Cold air spilled over Franny. She realized for the first time that the rest of the prison was not air-conditioned.
In marked contrast to the concrete walls and metal bars, Warden Gaddon’s office was carpeted and homey. There were framed pictures of children on the wall, and law books shared space with cooking magazines on the bookshelf. There was a coffee maker and a bowl of mints.
“Coffee?” Franny nodded, and Warden Gaddon filled a cup. She sat down behind her desk, gesturing to the couch opposite. Franny sat.
“How long do you think you’ll be in Gatestown?” said the warden.
“I have no idea,” said Franny. “I really don’t know.”
“Please let me know if you need anything, will you?”
“Thanks.”
“I can’t tell you how much I’ll miss Jack,” said Warden Gaddon, leaning back in her chair. “He was the only one who would come to work in a place like this. Most doctors…” She smiled wryly. “Most reputable doctors, anyway, wouldn’t touch this place with a ten-foot pole. Your uncle was a man who spent his whole life in Gatestown, and wanted to give back to the community. He told me so himself.” The warden’s gaze went to the window, and the field beyond it. Even here, there was no mountain view. “It was at a library fundraiser,” said the warden. “Your uncle bought me a beer and we talked for a while. I was new here, and having a tough time of it.”
“Where are you from?”
“I’m from Texas, but I never meant to end up as a warden, I can tell you that.”
Franny nodded.
“Women’s prisons are different. Frankly, I like the men’s better.”
“Why?”
“There’s something catty about the women. I don’t know. With the men, it’s very straightforward, but with the women there’s the…I guess you might say the cunning. Most women prisoners make me nervous.” Franny was intrigued. The warden continued, “The first time I had to supervise the showers here, something happened to me. I had supervised hundreds of showers, of course, but not at a women’s prison. Men’s bodies, it just never bothered me. The first time I saw the women, though, all naked in a row, it made me think of Auschwitz. It was chilling.” She paused, and then said, “My God, I’m sorry. We don’t even really know each other.”
“No, I’m interested. How did you end up
Similar Books
