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Tracy said,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], "I'm not hungry, thank you. I'd like to be excused."
The matron's eyes widened in disbelief. She stormed inside the cell and strode over to where Tracy lay. "Who the fuck do you think you are? You waitin' for room service? Get your ass in that line. I could put you on report for this: If it happens again, you go to the bing. Understand?"
She did not understand. She did not understand anything that was happening to her. She dragged herself from the bunk and walked out into the line of women. She was standing next to the black woman. "Why do I---?"
"Shut up,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]!" Ernestine Littlechap growled out of the corner of her mouth. "No talkin' in line."
The women were marched down a narrow,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych],[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], cheerless corridor past two sets of security doors,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], into an enormous mess hall filled with large wooden tables and chairs. There was a long serving counter with steam tables, where prisoners lined up for their food. The menu of the day consisted of a watery tuna casserole,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], limp green beans, a pale custard, and a choice of weak coffee or a synthetic fruit drink. Ladles of the unappetizing-looking food were thrown into the tin plates of the prisoners as they moved along the line, and the inmates who were serving behind the counter kept up a steady cry: "Keep the line moving. Next... keep the line moving. Next..."