Orange Is the New Black by Piper Kerman Read Free Book Online Page B

okay.”
    “You are?”
    I nodded, deciding this was a good situation for my tough act.
    He looked out the window. “In a little bit I’m going to have them take you up to the Camp,” he began.
    My brain relaxed a bit and my stomach unclenched. I followed his gaze out the window, feeling profound relief that I wouldn’t have to stay down here with evil Shorty.
    “I’ll be your counselor at the Camp. You know I’ve been reading your file.” He gestured at my PSI on the desk. “Sort of unusual. Pretty big case.”
    Was it? I realized I had absolutely no idea if it was a big case or not. If I was a big-time criminal, who exactly would my cellmates be?
    “And it’s been a long time since you were involved in all that,” hecontinued. “That’s pretty unusual. I can tell you’ve matured since then.” He looked at me.
    “Yeah, I guess so,” I muttered.
    “Well, look, I’ve been working up at that Camp for ten years. I run that Camp. It’s my Camp, and there’s nothing that goes on up there that I don’t know about.”
    I was embarrassed by how relieved I felt: I didn’t want to see this man, or any prison staffer, as my protector, but at the moment he was the closest thing to human I had encountered.
    “We’ve got all types up there. What you really have to watch is the other inmates. Some of them are all right. No one’s going to mess with you unless you let them. Now, women, they don’t fight much. They talk, they gossip, they spread rumors. So they may talk about you. Some of these girls are going to think you think you’re better than them. They’re going to say, ‘Oh, she’s got money.’”
    I felt uncomfortable. Was that how I came across? Was I going to be pegged as a snotty rich bitch?
    “And there’s lesbians up there. They’re there, but they’re not gonna bother you. Some are gonna try and be your friend, whatever—just stay away from them! I want you to understand, you do not have to have lesbian sex. I’m old-fashioned. I don’t approve of any of that mess.”
    I tried very hard not to smirk. Guess he didn’t read my file that closely. “Mr. Butorsky?”
    “Yes?”
    “I’m wondering when my fiancé and my mother can come to visit me?” I could not control the querulous tone in my voice.
    “They’re both in your PSI, right?” My PSI detailed all the members of my immediate family, including Larry, who had been interviewed by the probation department.
    “Yes, they’re all in there, and my father too.”
    “Anyone who’s in your PSI is cleared to visit. They can come this weekend. I’ll make sure the list is in the visiting room.” He stood up. “You just keep to yourself, you’re gonna be fine.” He gathered up my paperwork and left.
    I went out to retrieve my new creature comforts from the prison guard: two sheets, a pillowcase, two cotton blankets, a couple of cheap white towels, and a face cloth. These items were crammed into a mesh laundry bag. Add to that an ugly brown stadium coat with a broken zipper and a sandwich bag that contained a stubby mini-toothbrush, tiny packets of toothpaste and shampoo, and a rectangle of motel soap.
    Heading out through the multiple gates of the monster fence, I felt elated that I would not be behind it, but now the mystery of the Camp was rushing toward me, unstoppable. A white minivan waited. Its driver, a middle-aged woman in army-issue-looking street clothes and sunglasses, greeted me warmly. She wore makeup and little gold hoops in her ears, and she looked like she could be a nice Italian-American lady called Ro from New Jersey.
The prison guards are getting friendlier
, I thought as I climbed into the passenger seat. She closed the door, and smiled encouragingly at me. She was chipper. I stared back at her.
    She flipped up the sunglasses. “I’m Minetta. I’m an inmate too.”
    “Oh!” I was flabbergasted that she was a prisoner, and she was driving—and wearing makeup!
    “What’s your name—your last name? People