Someone to Love

-9-

"Poussey, does Twilight belong in the fiction section or the trash?" I joked as we worked in the library. Thankfully, the library became my new home here a week after my housing was assigned. I had been at Litchfield for two weeks, but it felt like two months.

"Watch it, Katrina." she pointed a stern finger at me. "If you cut the bullshit about him glowing and shit, the book isn't that bad."

"Just like herpes isn't that bad?"

She shot me a look and then laughed. "Don't act like you didn't like it. You're part white."

"That was so racist."

"I'm not racist.." she stopped and looked at me with such intense seriousness. "I have white friends." she then burst out laughing and continued to put books back on the shelf.

We were quiet as we worked. It was evident that we shared the same safe place. Poussey seemed happy to be here among the rows and rows of books, each one in its place and taken exceptional care of. The silence was almost pleasing, an assurance that we were in the right place. To be in jail, everything was at peace...

..until Vee, Black Cindy, Janae, and Taystee came in.

I was a few rows over, but if I peered between two books, I could just see what was happening. I didn't have a problem hearing, though, considering Vee's voice traveled.

"Do you have a problem with me?' Vee immediately accused.

"I thought me made this clear. I don't want anything to do with you." Poussey shrugged, still stacking books. Vee snatched the book from her hands.

"I don't have time to play with you, little girl. Either you join us-"

"I'm not doing shit for you. And if any of ya'll were smart enough you wouldn't be around her either." she said to Janae and Cindy. Taystee had her back to her, shaking her head.

"Fine." Vee seemingly resolved. WIth one hand, she knocked over the entire cart of books, throwing stacks and stacks of books all over the floor. She turned and strode out with Cindy, Janae and Taystee following right behind.

Once I was sure they were gone, I briskly walked over and found Poussey standing there boiling mad. I didn't know what to do to calm her down, so I picked up the cart and started putting the books back on. After some minutes, Poussey finally calmed down enough and started helping me.

"What was that about?" I asked quietly, breaking the silence.

"I don't even want to talk about it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner that night consisted of a really gross rendition of spaghetti, corn (which wasn't that bad) and a pudding cup. Poussey said she wasn't hungry, so I was forced to sit by myself again. Just as I was sitting down to an empty table, this young girl who looked almost too young to be in here came and sat down without her food. She stretched out her hands, closed her eyes and began humming something.

"Um, hello?" I called, tapping the handle of my spoon on the table. The girl opened her eyes and looked at me. "Are you okay?"

She sighed heavily, "I am participating in a hunger strike, in order to get the needs of all prisoners here at Litchfield addressed. Would you like to join?"

"Uh, no thanks. I'm okay."

"That's a shame. Because you look just like one of my friends. Becca was her name. Becca stopped the demolition of an old park upstate by supergluing herself to the gate."

"Uh, okay." I went back to my pudding cup.

Hunger-strike girl slid down so she could talk to me. Immediately the smell of must followed. Obviously, she didn't take baths either. "I mean, found it brave and heroic and all, but I would have just chained myself the the gate, see. Because when she had to get herself unstuck, she ended up losing the back of her clothes and most of the hair on the back of her head. Of course, hers wasn't as curly as yours is. She had straight hair of the same color. You look like her structurally. You two have the same nose and almost the same..." This girl just wouldn't stop. talking.