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Tracy slammed the magazine shut.
On visiting days it was easy to know which inmates had friends or relatives coming to see them. The prisoners would shower and put on fresh clothes and makeup. Ernestine usually returned from the visitors' room smiling and cheerful.
"My Al,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], he always comes to see me," she told Tracy. "He'll be waitin' for me when I get out. You know why? 'Cause I give him what no other woman gives him."
Tracy could not hide her confusion. "You mean... sexually?"
"You bet your ass. What goes on behind these walls has nothin' to do with the outside. In here, sometimes we need a warm body to hold--- somebody to touch us and tell us they love us. We gotta feel there's somebody who gives a damn about us. It don't matter if it ain't real or don't last. It's all we got. But when I get on the outside"--- Emestine broke into a broad grin--- "then I become a fuckin' nymphomaniac,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych],[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], hear?"
There was something that had been puzzling Tracy. She decided to bring it up now. "Ernie,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych],[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], you keep protecting me. Why?"
Ernestine shrugged. "Beats the shit out of me."
"I really want to know." Tracy chose her words carefully. "Everyone else who's your--- your friend belongs to you. They do whatever you tell them to do."
"If they don't want to walk around with half an ass, yeah."
"But not me. Why?"
"You complainin'?"
"No. I'm curious."