A Lady's Choice

by Sandra Robbins

  “That’s better. This is Matron Herndon. She’ll be in charge of you during your sentence. Do what she says, or you’ll deal with me.”

  He turned and strode from the room. Sarah glanced up and fixed her stare on the woman who stood in his place. Her rumpled uniform fit loosely on her thin frame, and her hair dangled from the tight bun behind her head. The grim line of her clenched lips and the menacing stare directed toward them caused Sarah to cringe.

  She motioned the women to stand beside each other in a line. When they repositioned themselves, she walked slowly in front of them, studying the faces of each prisoner. When she reached the end, she jerked her head in the direction of the doors.

  The male guards who had brought them in exited, leaving them with the matron and several uniformed women whom Sarah supposed to be other prison employees. She glanced back at Matron Herndon and saw she held a nightstick in her hand.

  Sarah jumped at the sound of the woman’s voice. “You’re in my care now. You will shower and be given a uniform before you enter the prison population. Take off all your clothes and drop them where you stand.”

  Henrietta sobbed and clutched at Sarah’s arm. The others clustered closer together. Sarah looked toward the matron. “Please, Matron Herndon, these women are not accustomed to undressing in front of anyone. Would you please allow each of us to undress after we enter the shower?”

  The matron opened her mouth to speak but then walked behind the women toward Sarah instead. Sarah dared not turn her head, but she knew when the woman stopped behind her. She heard the swish of the nightstick right before an agonizing blow struck the back of her legs. She toppled forward and tumbled to the floor. In pain she looked up at the fierce expression on the matron’s face.

  She bent toward Sarah with the stick raised above her head. “Who do you think you are? You don’t tell me what to do. Now get up off the floor, drop your clothes, and walk to that shower.”

  Grimacing from the pain in her legs, Sarah pulled herself to her feet and began to unbutton her dress. One after another, her garments hit the floor until she stood naked in front of everyone. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the other women had their eyes averted, but the matron chuckled.

  “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” One of the attendants stepped forward and handed Sarah a bar of soap. The matron motioned toward the door leading to the shower. “Now get in there and wash.”

  Sarah looked at the half used bar of soap in her hand. She wondered who last used it but knew better than to ask that question. With head held high, she walked across the floor and into the shower.

  As she stepped back into the room afterward, she averted her gaze at the sight of the women standing naked together. Humiliation burned in their red faces that were wet with tears. The matron motioned her toward a table stacked with clothing. “Pick up your underwear off the floor, and come get your workhouse uniform here.”

  Sarah walked to the table and looked at the sack dresses lying there. Dirt smudged the fronts of all of them, and the smell of perspiration assaulted her nostrils. Her stomach roiled, and nausea rose in her throat.

  “These clothes not good enough for a fancy lady like you? Well, that’s all you’ll get here.” The matron, her arms crossed and a smirk on her face, stood next to the table.

  Sarah struggled to control the sick taste that now poured into her mouth. She did not want to throw up on the floor at the matron’s feet. She concentrated on getting dressed and pulled on her underwear. Then she picked up one of the dresses and slipped it over her head. The rough material enveloped her figure and drooped from the shoulders. Matron Herndon laughed and pushed her back to the center of the room.

  When all the prisoners completed their showers, the two women guards ushered them from the room into a hallway. Silently they climbed a stairway to the upper level and entered a long corridor with cells on each side.

  Two by two they entered cells, with Sarah and Henrietta being last. Sarah flinched at the foul odor filling the small area. She looked around until her gaze rested on the toilet against one wall, and she walked toward it.

  The rancid contents in the unflushed bowl sickened her, and she retched. Henrietta began to gag and stuffed her fist in her mouth. Sarah whirled to face the guard closing the cell door. “Please tell me how to flush this toilet.”

  The woman turned a somber face toward her. “All the toilets flush from the outside. The guards have to do it.”

  Sarah wasn’t sure she could control her retching stomach much longer. “Would you please flush it for us?”

  The guard smiled and turned the key in the lock. “I will whenever I get time.”

  With a mocking smile on her face, the guard marched down the hallway and out the end door. Sarah turned to Henrietta, and the girl’s wide eyes reflected terror. Sarah felt her resolve crumbling too, but if they were to survive their ordeal, she couldn’t give in to her own fears. At the moment, sixty days loomed before her like eternity.

  Sarah threw back the thin blanket and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She pushed into a standing position and flinched at the pain in her wobbly legs, a reminder of the matron’s stick. After regaining her balance, she walked to the toilet in the corner of the cell.

  The guards had flushed it sometime during the night. How long would it take for it to be emptied this time? When she finished, she rearranged the dirty dress she still wore and walked over to Henrietta’s cot. The girl’s eyes looked swollen from the muffled sobs Sarah had heard throughout the long night.

  Sarah bent to shake Henrietta awake but jumped at the sudden sound of a shouting voice and metal clanging. “Get up, prisoners. Breakfast in fifteen minutes.”

  Sarah ran to the bars of the cell and pressed her face against them in an effort to see down the hallway. Two female guards stood at the far end of the detention area. One had a wooden rod in her hand and struck it against the door of the first cubicle.

  Henrietta sprang out of bed. “What is it?”

  In one swift movement Sarah turned and gathered the terrified girl into her arms. Henrietta’s teeth chattered in Sarah’s ear, and she stroked the girl’s hair to calm her. “Shh, it’s all right. They’re only waking us up.”

  Henrietta’s shaking subsided some, and Sarah held her at arms’ length. “Now that’s better. I declare, Henrietta, you look a fright this morning. If we had a brush, I would get those tangles out of your hair, but I didn’t seem to have one in my welcome basket last night.”

  Henrietta burst out laughing. “Sarah, welcome basket, indeed. I think we’re lucky just to have these filthy dresses.”

  “All right, cut out the talking and get yourselves out here.” They turned to see a large, uniformed woman holding a ring with keys on it standing in the hall. She unlocked the door, stepped back, and motioned for them to move toward the exit.

  Women poured from the cells along the corridor and moved in two straight lines in the direction of the door. Sarah’s heart leapt when Laura Barnes, who’d been sentenced with them, stepped out into the hall. She started to speak to her, but a quick frown and shake of Laura’s head silenced her.

  They walked down the stairs and proceeded to a large room at the back of the building. Long tables with benches on either side lined the room, and a serving area stretched across one end. Sarah stepped behind the waiting women. Her stomach growled from hunger, reminding her they had nothing to eat after their arrival yesterday.

  She picked up a tray and stopped before the women in white uniforms. One of them pushed a bowl of thin gruel at her. “Move on.” She didn’t look up.

  Sarah grabbed a piece of bread from a wooden bowl and moved into the dining hall. She spotted Laura at a table and hurried over. Laura jumped up and gave her a quick hug. “Sarah, how did you make it last night?”

  “We made it okay. How about you?”

  “I’m all right, but sixty days seems like a long time.”

  “It does. We’re going to have to be brave to
endure in this place,” Laura said.

  “From what I’ve seen so far, I believe you’re right.” Sarah looked around for Henrietta and motioned her over. “You remember Henrietta. She came with us.”

  Laura nodded and pointed to the other two at the table. “Rose and Ernestine are here. So we have most of our group together.”

  Sarah smiled at the group. “It’s good to see you this morning. I’m starved. Have you tasted your breakfast yet?”

  Ernestine grunted in disgust. “It’s awful, but we have to eat something if we don’t want to starve.”

  Sarah picked up a spoonful of the watery liquid in her bowl. “I’m so hungry I think I could eat anything this morning.”

  She shoved the spoon toward her mouth but stopped, her eyes widening. “There’s a worm in my food.”

  She threw the spoon down, and it rattled on the tray. Two guards who’d been involved in a conversation jerked their heads in her direction and stared before they walked toward the table. Anger lined their faces. The two stopped beside Sarah and looked down at her. “Is something wrong?”

  “There’s a worm in my food.”

  “Where?”

  “Right here.” Sarah’s voice quivered with fright at the menacing face that hovered near her.

  The woman looked down and back at Sarah. “Yeah, that’s a worm all right. So what do you want me to do?”

  “I can’t eat this.”

  “Are you saying you don’t want this?”

  “Yes.”

  One of the guards picked up the bowl and turned to the other one. “She can’t eat this. Take it back to the kitchen.”

  Sarah watched the figure retreating and glanced back up. “Will she bring me another bowl?”

  The guard arched her eyebrows. “Another bowl? This is a prison, not a restaurant where you place an order. You just sent your breakfast back to the kitchen. Maybe the noon meal will be more to your liking, Princess.”

  She started to walk away but turned to the other women at the table. “If I see anyone sharing their food with her, you’ll end up in solitary.”

  Sarah’s body tingled from head to toe, and she fought to hold back the tears. Henrietta pushed her bowl forward, but Sarah shook her head. “I won’t have anyone getting in trouble because of me. Eat your breakfast. My mouth has gotten me in lots of trouble before. I suppose I’d better watch it in here.”

  Laura reached for Sarah’s hand and held it for a moment. “We’re all in this together. We’ll take care of each other while we’re here.”

  Sarah eyebrows arched, but she said nothing. She curled her fingers around the bread Laura slipped into her palm, slid it back across the table, and stowed it in her pocket. She kept her hand on the bread, pinched bits off, and slipped it into her mouth when the workers looked the other way.

  After about thirty minutes, a whistle blew and all the prisoners stood. The door opened, and they filed into another room. The women moved to chairs scattered about the room. Laura motioned for Sarah and Henrietta to sit near her.

  One of the guards stopped in the middle of the room and faced them. “Prisoners, file by the table and pick up your work for the day.”

  Sarah joined the group and picked up some fabric, a needle, and thread. The coarse texture of the material chafed her fingertips, and she recognized it was the same as the sack dress she wore. “Are we supposed to make prison uniforms like those we’re wearing?” she whispered to Rose.

  Rose looked over her shoulder. “I guess so.”

  Sarah took her seat and gazed at the dress lengths in her lap. She wished she had listened when her mother tried to teach her to sew. She had dismissed her efforts saying that she never intended to sew and didn’t want to learn. There were many things she’d done in the past she wished she could change, but it was too late. If only she could do it all again.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Sarah sat on her cot, her back against the wall, and listened to the muffled sobs coming from Henrietta’s bunk. Even though she loved her friend dearly, the constant tears were beginning to grate on her nerves. The close quarters in the cell made it impossible to escape the whimpers, and after three weeks at Occoquan, she yearned for just one night of quiet.

  Suddenly a voice pierced the quiet. “Prisoners, we have a treat for you tonight. We’re gonna give you some time out of lockup so you can visit with each other. You’ll have one hour, so enjoy your time.”

  Sarah jumped up and pushed her face against the bars. Guards were opening doors up and down the hallway, and some of the women now stood in the small hallway. “Henrietta, dry those eyes. We’re going to get out of here for a while.”

  Henrietta sat up, wiped at her tears, and stared at Sarah. “I’m hungry. The food tonight tasted spoiled.”

  “It probably was.”

  The female guard sidled up to their cell and inserted the key in the lock. “You have to stay in the cellblock, but you can spend some time talking with each other.”

  The woman’s stern face bore the look of authority, but Sarah detected some compassion in the nasal twang of her words. Sarah stared into her gray eyes, and they softened, sending a secret message of hope.

  Sarah slipped past her and into the passage. “Thank you, for allowing us to visit tonight.”

  “One hour. That’s all, so make the most of it.”

  Sarah grabbed Henrietta by the hand and hurried toward where Laura stood. Several of their fellow suffragists formed a circle, and Sarah eased into the group. Ernestine, her voice lowered, held the attention of those gathered. “This place is a disgrace. We’ve got to let people outside these walls know what the conditions here are.”

  Sarah nodded her agreement and glanced toward the guards, who had taken a seat at the other end of the cellblock. Their nightsticks lay across their laps, and they laughed and talked with each other.

  A thought struck Sarah, and she looked around at her friends. “This is a workhouse. I wonder what they would do if we refused to work?”

  Henrietta eyes widened, and she grabbed Sarah’s arm. “What do you mean not work? There’s no telling what they’d do to us if we didn’t work.”

  Sarah patted Henrietta’s hand. “Think of it this way, ladies. We’ve done nothing illegal, but our government has seen fit to sentence us to this horrible place. Why should we sew dresses that other unfortunate women will be forced to wear?”

  The women looked from one to another. Laura smiled at Sarah, respect written on her face. “I think Sarah may have something here. But we must be prepared for the consequences, whatever they may be.”

  Sarah nodded. “Laura’s right. If you join us, then tomorrow take your seat in the sewing room and refuse to sew even one stitch. Keep telling yourself that we’re political prisoners, and we don’t have to do what they say.”

  “I agree.” Laura stuck her arm forward, her fingers spread and her palm facing downward. “If you agree, join your hand with mine. We’ll show these people how determined we can be.”

  Sarah thrust her hand forward and laid it on top of Laura’s. One by one the others did the same, Henrietta last of all. They stood there a few minutes with their heads down. Slowly each looked up, and smiles lit their faces. They laughed and moved their arms up and down in a symbol of unity.

  As their giggles became louder, one of the guards at the end of the hall jumped up from her seat. “You’re getting too loud, prisoners. Just keep it up, and you’ll go back into lockup early.”

  The women stepped back in the circle, their fingers clasping at each other as their contact broke. They sat down on the floor and scooted close together. Laura spoke first. “Why don’t we tell about ourselves and what brought us to work in the suffrage movement.”

  One by one they shared their stories and their hearts for women’s rights. When Sarah’s time came she took a deep breath before beginning. “I grew up in Tennessee. My parents died, and I ended up teaching at a girls’ school in Memphis. I’d been involved with the suffrage m
ovement on the local level, but I came to Washington with the school owner and her nephew. He turned out to be a murderer. He was sent back to Tennessee to face charges, and his aunt left town.” She sighed. “But I didn’t realize I’d end up here. If we can get the vote for women, this will all be worth it.”

  Sarah blinked back tears when she thought of what she’d left out. She couldn’t bring herself to speak the most troubling thing of all—that her heart belonged to a young lawyer in Tennessee. Those memories she couldn’t share with anyone.

  The guards stood up and walked toward them. “All right, prisoners, that’s enough for tonight. File back into your cells.”

  Sarah pulled Henrietta to her feet, and they moved into their cell. Sarah turned to face the guard as she locked the door. Her gray eyes stared into Sarah’s, and a half smile curled her lips. For the first time since arriving at Occoquan, Sarah felt comforted by the expression on the woman’s face.

  She stepped back to the cell door and wrapped her fingers around the bars. “I’m Sarah Whittaker. Please tell me your name.”

  The guard hesitated and pulled the key from the lock. “My name is Ruth Cochran.”

  Sarah smiled at her. “Good night, Ruth Cochran. Sleep well.”

  Ruth stood still for a few seconds, her brows drawn into a slight frown. “I will, Sarah Whittaker, and you do the same.”

  She turned and walked down the hallway to where the other officer stood. They flicked off the switch that controlled the lights in the cells and left, closing the door behind them.

  The hall lights burned brightly sending beams across the floor. Sarah slipped out of her dirty dress and stretched out in her underwear beneath the thin blanket on the cot. Her thoughts drifted to the part of her story she hadn’t told her friends tonight. She wondered where Alex was and what he was doing. But most of all she wondered if he still thought about her.

  She pulled the cover over her head and gagged at the blanket’s stench of body odor. She folded it back from her face and turned toward the wall in an attempt to block the light.