Cameron Andrews Box Set

Chapter 1Cameron didn’t move as the door of the van opened beside her. She steeled herself for what was going to happen next, realizing how tensely she’d sat during the long ride. This was the real beginning! Her stomach was jumping with excitement and exhilaration, but there was one little part of her, centered right below her esophagus, that was scared to death. And though she hadn’t been inside a church since her grandfather’s funeral five years earlier, she suddenly wanted to pray: “Dear God, don’t let me forget everything I’ve been taught!” They were inside the garage. The huge steel door was lowered behind the van and the heavy clank of the locks sliding into place was all too loud. It didn’t seal out the oppressive heat and humidity of the late July day. The stale air of the oil-smeared cavern seemed to hold the heat and magnify its misery. Silently, she stared forward, unconsciously fingering the short loop of chain that shackled her wrists to the chain around her waist, her one sign of nervousness. “Come on, hot shot, move it out. We ain’t got all day.” The guard stood back, her hand resting loosely on her holstered revolver, waiting for Cam to exit the police van that had brought her and two other women from the City of Baltimore to their new home, Hagerville State Correctional Facility for Women. Cameron swung her legs over the side of the bench seat and hopped to the ground, careful not to trip on the ankle chains. She stretched her back slightly to release the tension. After the two other women had alighted from the van, the second guard, the driver, motioned them through the first set of steel-barred doors, his shotgun securely in hand. Cam let the two other women go before her. The first one strode forward as best she could with the ankle shackles confining her movements. Her attitude seemed to imply there was nothing to worry about. Cam could tell that this wasn’t her first time in prison. The second woman, though, was more tentative, her eyes wide. She was scared. Cam gave her a reassuring wink, then followed her as the guards nudged them forward. When all three were inside the small entryway, the doors slammed and locked with a heavy clang behind them. Then the iron door in front slid open to where three more guards waited for them. “Small litter this time,” the first guard inside observed, eyeing the three women who stood before him in blue coveralls marked with the “City of Baltimore” logo. “Any trouble makers?” he asked, taking the set of files that the van driver handed him through the glassed window next to the gate. “Nah, gentle as lambs,” the driver replied, watching the guard sign the transfer papers that released Cameron, Sharon, and Donna into prison custody. “But this one,” he continued, pointing toward Cameron with the butt of his rifle, “seems to have an attitude.” Shit, she thought, here it comes. It’s starting already. Cameron checked her reaction, trying to keep her expression impassive as she continued to stare straight ahead. “This a tough one?” the first guard asked, thumbing through the files. He stopped as he came to the one with Cam’s picture stapled to the front. Next to the picture, someone had handwritten a large capital “L” in red marker pen. “Oh, another bulldyke,” he chuckled as he opened the file, knowing the “L” stood for “Lesbian,” and scanned her rap sheet. Surprised by what he read, he let out a low whistle as he brought his gaze up to Cam’s face. “A cop!” he smiled. “We don’t get many bad lady cops in here. Oh, we’re gonna have a good time.” He closed the file and handed them to his partner. “Well, Detective Sergeant Andrews,” he sneered, walking up to Cam, so close that she could smell the cup of coffee he’d just chugged. “Welcome to Hagerville’s House of Ladies. I think you’re going to be very happy here.” He waited. Cam just stood there, stolidly, hoping that her silence would keep him from pushing harder, but knowing that it probably wouldn’t. “Well, don’t you want to be happy here?” he continued. Cam finally looked him in the eye. “I’d rather be happy somewhere else,” she said, her voice low. “Oh, you’ll change your mind,” he promised. “You’ll learn to love it here. You won’t be able to imagine being anywhere else. I should think you’d be real excited to be shacked up with three-hundred fifty other girls.” He stepped back with a broad smile on his face and motioned down the corridor that ended at a thick iron-barred gate. “Now, you three little ladies move your pretty butts down there and we’ll see that you get a nice little welcome party.” He pressed a button, one of several on a long wall panel. It sounded a warning buzzer further inside the prison. “Here,” he said, putting out his hand to stop Cam as she started past. “You take these with you,” he said, handing her the files, “and be real careful not to damage them. No telling what might happen if one of these precious files got all bent out of shape.” He smiled broadly as Cam took the files and started after her two companions. “Bastard,” Donna whispered under her breath as they neared the end of the hall. “I’m prepared for it,” Cam answered. “No talking!” came a barked order from behind Cameron. At the end of the corridor, they were met by three stern and bored looking guards, all female. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t Donna Trachner,” the first guard greeted them, looking happily at Donna, from behind the gate. “Welcome back, girl. I knew you couldn’t bear to be without us. What you in for this time?” “Same ol’ same old,” Donna said. She had been arrested for prostitution and for robbing the johns she picked up. This was her third or fourth time in prison. “How you doing, Dee? Miss me?” “Oh, you bet, Sugar Bumps,” Dee smiled. “Missed you a lot. Things are really quiet without you. I’m glad you’re back. Who’d you bring with you?” Donna shrugged. “Hand me your files!” the second guard ordered, obviously not in the mood for casual conversation. “Sorry we can’t spend more time on this blessed reunion.” Cam held out the files as far as the shackles would allow her to stretch her arm. As the guard took them, she acknowledged the male guard who had escorted the women, then pushed yet another button that slid the heavy door back. “Come on inside, ladies.” As it slid back, Donna led the way through into the next corridor, which was painted in the same gunmetal grey as the last hallway, with its grey cement floors. The door closed behind them with another heavy thud. Without taking her eyes off the files she was now perusing, the guard, whose name badge read “M. Emerson,” addressed the other two guards. “Take them and get their processing started. See if Dr. Keystone is ready to examine them yet.” As Cam started past her, M. Emerson put out a hand to stop her. Not any taller than Cam, Emerson outweighed her by a good sixty pounds and whether Cam wanted to or not, she felt intimidated by the cold, hard authoritarian look on her face. Cam waited as Emerson’s eyes ran the full length of her, from her head to her feet. Having obviously passed the inspection, Cam was allowed to continue. “Be wary of this one,” Emerson warned the guard who waited to escort Cam, “Ex-cop.” Cam sighed as the guard took her forcefully by the arm and pushed her forward. This was not going to be a good day. * * * * The processing took a lot longer than it should have, but no one seemed in a rush to finish any of the paperwork. The pouches containing their few personal belongings were inventoried and they signed receipts for storage. Cameron read down the short list of her property: the shirt and trousers she’d worn to court to plead guilty and a wallet containing her driver’s license and $16.37. Maggie had warned her not to take anything valuable with her, that if she pleaded guilty, she’d immediately be taken into custody again, her bail revoked. Now, after being stripped and ordered to take a rather short, but hot shower with an abrasive soap, Cam sat on a cold metal chair wrapped only in a short, thin gown. Cam had tried to do what she was told without hesitation or balking, but no matter how co-operative she was, the guards always found something she hadn’t done quite right, quite fast enough, or quite enthusiastically enough to suit them. Charlie had said they’d push her, that ex-police were viewed as scum inside the prison, both by guards and by inmates. She’d believed him, but the experience was almost more than he’d prepared her for. At least she wasn’t sprayed with delousing disinfectant like on her first day in the city jail. Her skin still burned from that harsh treatment. Looking at the other two, Cam was almost glad she’d attracted so much attention during this introduction to prison life. Donna seemed bored, but Sharon looked like she was on the verge of tears, even though most of the attention was centered on Cam. Donna stepped forward first to have her physical exam, but Sharon was more hesitant when her turn came. As she was escorted into the examining room, Cam could see that she was shaking slightly. Cam watched her go, wondering if she was anxious because she was trying to hide something. Or was there something about her, physically, that she was embarrassed about? No. She hadn’t really looked at Sharon when they were all in the shower together, but nothing seemed out of place. Maybe Sharon was high-strung. Or maybe she’s just cold, like me, Cam thought, trying to adjust the thin gown she now wore. “Come on, sweetheart. Move your ass.” The words, accompanied by a sharp rap on the shoulder, shook Cam from her reverie. Before she could react, M. Emerson had grabbed her by the arm and thrown her forward, shoving Cam toward the open door to the examining room. “Now the real fun starts. Just sit there.” Emerson pointed to the doctor’s examining table. Cam hoisted herself onto the table as the doctor walked into the room followed by his nurse. “This the last one today?” Dr. Jerry Keystone asked. “Saved the best ‘til last, Doc,” Emerson smiled. “This one gets the full treatment.” The doctor contemplated Cam for a minute. She began to chafe under his gaze. “Step onto the scale,” was the first order. Cam did as she was told and waited while he adjusted the weights and height bar. “Height, 5’7”, Weight 129,” the doctor told the nurse who wrote down his answers. “Hair, brown, eyes, brown. Do you wear corrective lenses?” “No,” Cam answered. “Good. Sit down on the table.” Cam did as she was told. He began by asking her full medical history, year by year, childhood disease by childhood disease. Then, as she sat naked before him, he examined her. “Where’d you get that?” he asked pointing to the bullet wound scar below her left collarbone as he shined his examination probe into her left ear. “Convenience store robbery,” Cam answered curtly. “Rookie year.” “Perp get away?” Emerson asked scornfully Cam looked her in the eye. “No,” she replied coldly, “I killed him.” Keystone shook his head. Was that disgust he felt? Or admiration? Cam couldn’t tell for sure. “Those, too?” he pointed to the other bullet wound scars on her left thigh and hip. “No. Hostage situation. I rescued a child.” The doctor turned to Emerson who was leaning against the wall in the corner. He smiled. “We’ve got ourselves a hero.” Emerson sniffed, uninterested. “Not too careful, though, with all them scars,” she added with a shrug. “And she couldn’t be too good, or she wouldn’t be here.” The doctor adjusted his stethoscope in his ears and began his physical exam, listening to her chest, then peering into her eyes and inspecting her mouth, tapping her fillings and the gold cap on the back molar. He wiggled the tooth and tried to see if it could be easily removed. “Make a note,” he instructed the nurse who recorded all his findings, “There are two crowns in here, they’ll have to be X-rayed, just in case.” Then he stepped back and reached for a new pair of rubber surgical gloves from the shelf behind him. “Ever had a full body cavity search before?” Emerson asked with a wry grin as Keystone pulled the gloves on. Cam shook her head. “Not by a doctor,” she grinned. She glanced from Keystone to Emerson as they exchanged bored but knowing looks. “Then, you’re in for a treat.” Emerson sneered. The doctor cleared his throat. “Turn around and bend over.” Cam stoically turned around and leaned over the table. Closing her eyes, she waited as patiently as possible for the doctor to begin, ready to give her body up to his prodding and probing of her most private places, knowing that if she objected in any way, it would become even worse. She’d been warned that this would happen, that they’d try the most degrading forms of treatment; that she had to remain above and beyond whatever they threw at her. She’d known coming into this, that there were easier things than being in prison. But this was the choice she’d made. Cam winced as the doctor’s fingers explored her. She tried to keep a wall of detachment around her, trying to keep her mind on something else, not the way his probing seemed: cold and hard. She slowly repeated Charlie’s eight rules for life in prison to herself. “You are in prison now, whatever happened outside has to be forgotten. You have to keep focused. Rule number one: trust no one. Rule number two: stay alert.” Cam suddenly felt the urge to pee as the doctor pushed against her bladder. Before she could check her reaction, her body stiffened to object to the treatment. A heavy hand on the back of her neck forced her face into the table. “You got a problem with what he’s doing?” M. Emerson growled into her ear, pressing her harder into the table. “No, ma’am.” Cam wheezed as the pressure interfered with her breathing. “Then watch yourself. I’d love an excuse to get to you.” “Yes, ma’am,” Cam acquiesced. After a brief pause for emphasis, Emerson gave Cam a quick shove and backed away. Hands on her rear told Cam that the doctor had resumed his exam. But, then, at last, it was finally over…or she hoped it was. Already, her body felt battered by all his prodding. She had to keep her psyche from feeling the same way. “All right,” the doctor said, “Turn around.” He waited until she was facing him. “You look pretty healthy.” “Thanks.” Cam couldn’t control just one comment, “Was it as good for you as it was for me?” “Don’t get wise, scum,” Emerson sprang at her and gave her a hard shove against the table. Cam was bent backward over the table with the guard leaning heavily on her. “You think that’s funny? You think you’re the first one who ever said that? Now, apologize to the good doctor and thank him for his kind examination.” She gave Cam a hard shove and took a step back. Cam straightened up slowly. “Sorry,” she muttered to the doctor. “Thank him. Nicely.” It was an order. Cam slowly raised her eyes to the doctor. “Thanks for the exam,” was all she said. “You keep running your smart mouth like that and we’re gonna be seeing a lot of each other. And if it comes down to which one of us is tougher, I don’t think you’d get very good odds. Do you understand me?” Emerson’s threat held quite a bit of venom. Cam looked at the floor and nodded. “Yes. I understand.” The guard pointed toward the door. “Let’s go get your new wardrobe and housewarming gifts.” Cam reached for the gown where it lay on the examining table but Emerson stopped her. “You don’t need that,” was all she said. Cam wanted to object but knew it would be useless. With a resigned sigh, she walked, naked, out through the back entrance of the room. Looking down the corridor, she could see a sign marked “Supply Room”. She hoped that was as far as she’d have to go to be issued her prison clothes. The in-take interview and the rest of the paperwork were still ahead, another several hours work, before she would even come in contact with the other prisoners. Thank God Charlie had prepared her for what she’d have to go through. Now, if she could just keep her mind focused on everything else Charlie and Michael had taught her and not let the situation get to her, she’d be all right. And she might even live to tell about it. As she waited for the bored supply room clerk to issue her clothing, her mind slid back four months…God, was it only four months?…just to remind herself why she was here and reassure herself that she’d made the right decision. Today was the first day of a three-year prison sentence for dealing drugs. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time…