Chapter 4: I Once Was Lost

“Religion: It’s given people hope in a world torn apart by… religion.”
”• Jon Stewart

Wednesday came, and that was marked Maintenance all day. Grace inquired of the sour-faced Mrs. Watson on where to go after breakfast and was curtly informed of her destination — the Maintenance Garage. This turned out to be a rather large building with a garage, a work room, and quarter for the Head of Maintenance.

She let Pete lead her to the Maintenance Head’s Office and to meet her new supervisor there, who was none other than her old friend Jimbo.

“Well, look who’s here! It’s Carson! How are you enjoying our lovely camp, my fine faggot friend?” he laughed.

“I’m doing well, thank you, sir,” she replied, quietly. Her instincts told her how to deal with Jimbo. He wanted respect and subservience. In fact, he seemed to crave it. But, she felt she was walking through a minefield with him, regardless.

He waved off Pete and led her into the garage area. “While you’re here you’re mine to do with as I please. And don’t concern yourself with demerits, fag. You cross me and I’ll knock the crap right out of you. Got that?”

Grace answered “Yes, sir.”

Jimbo smiled and playfully punched Grace in the shoulder. “You know, I would kinda like you if you weren’t a fag? Do you believe that, Carson?”

“Yes, sir, if you say so.”

“I do say so! You really do have your woman act down pretty good. I bet you have fooled a lot of men haven’t ya?” he asked, rhetorically.

“Well, I have never set out to fool anyone. I just have expressed who I am and let people take me however they decide to,” she answered.

Jimbo stood and stared at her a long time. Then, nodded and led her to the back of the garage. He pointed at a push-broom and said “First thing, I want you to clean this place up. Get it looking good for me. What with your woman thing you got going I’m sure you’ll do a great job!” He started laughing and walked off.

Not only did Grace sweep the place to within an inch of its life, she organized all of the tools piled haphazardly around into a neat array on the walls and workbenches. She noted one tool that made her smile: a pair of bolt-cutters. She carefully hung them on the wall with the rest of the tools continued on.

When Jimbo returned he let out a sharp whistle of approval. “Well, now! Carson I am impressed. You got this place looking shipshape! I didn’t think you had it in you!”

Grace smiled and replied “Thank you, sir. I always believe in doing the best that I can at whatever I do.”

Jimbo nodded. “Go on to lunch, see you back here in half an hour. Don’t be late.”

Grace scampered off to lunch. She didn’t see Jimbo standing there watching her as she left, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. She also didn’t hear him mutter “Best of a bad lot, I guess.”

~o~O~o~

After supper she reported back to Jimbo’s office. She found him standing in the doorway that led in to the garage, watching her. She stood there waiting to see what he wanted her to do next.

Grace found out rather quickly what was next, as he grabbed her arm and led her over to one of the back corners of the garage. There were two sawhorses there, with a half-dozen two-by-fours laying across them.

He got behind her, pushed her up against them and bent her over, saying “Don’t move or say one word, fag!”

She thought she knew what was coming, and sadly enough she was right. He pulled her pants and boxers down, then walked over and dead-bolted the door. Jimbo then walked into the bathroom and came back with a small jar of Vaseline.

Grace debated whether to say anything or beg him to stop, but decided in the end all she would get by that would be a beating or demerits or both.

He was rough. Brutal, crude, and shortly after he began, it was over. Grace stayed in position, bent over the wood and was softly crying. She wasn’t just crying from the act of rape itself. Her butt was still very sore from her caning and this had made it hurt again.

“Hush up the tears now, fag. You gotta understand, sometimes a man needs relief, you see. It’s a sin to fornicate with a woman you ain’t married to. Reverend Hayes is real strict on that sorta thing. So, I need something to take care of that, and you look so much like a woman, even now, that you’ll do nicely.”

He flung a rag at Grace, presumably to dry her tears.

“Look, to me you’re like one of them blow-up dolls some men get with, you know? You’re not really a person anymore, you’re an ‘it’. I ain’t fornicatin’ with a woman, nor a man, so you see - it don’t count in the eyes of God. Now, that don’t mean you can go around spreadin’ lies or anything about this. You keep your fag mouth shut and your short life on this earth won’t be near as bad as it could be. But if you tell even one soul about this…”

Jimbo leaned in close till his nose almost touched Grace’s and dropped his voice to a grim whisper. “One word about this to anyone and I will find you and I will break your neck and send you straight to Hell, Carson. You got that?”

Grace was, by turns, incensed, astounded, and horrified by Jimbo’s little speech wherein she was reduced to nothing but a sentient sex toy. She felt there was no choice but to be agreeable and bide her time. She responded cautiously “I understand, sir, and I will not say a word to anyone.”

Jimbo smiled, glad that this fag understood who was in charge around here.

“See, this is one area that me and the good Reverend don’t quite see eye to eye. He thinks that if he works with you fags and prays he can get you right with God. Me, I believe what the good Reverend Phelps down in Kansas has to say. God gave you up when you decided to turn gay and mutilate your God-given body into a freakshow half-woman body. God is the only one who could cure you of this sin and he don’t want nothin’ to do with you now. You are beyond hope and Hell-bound is how Reverend Phelps sees it, and how I see it too.”

Jimbo paced on the stained concrete floor as he explained How Things Are to Grace.

“Now, Reverend Hayes has had some purely blessed success with some of the young confused kids we get in here. Their parents find out they are being turned gay by the schools and the media and Hollywood and all that and they send them here. We straighten them out and get them back on the right track before it’s too late and they become full-time fags you see?”

Grace nodded. Jimbo stopped pacing and whirled to point at her.

“But look at you! You’ve burned all your bridges with God and there is just nothing for you in the future but Hell. God don’t want you back ya see? All you can do is live your perverted life lusting after men’s dicks and then die and burn for eternity. There’s just… No… Hope... For… You!” He smacked his hands together on each word.

Grace sighed and looked down at the floor, apparently accepting his grim forecast for her afterlife.
Jimbo resumed pacing and pontificating on her sorry state.

“So Reverend Hayes, God bless his soul, will keep trying to save you. But you and I know you gave your soul to Satan a long time ago and you will never get right with God. Trannies like you embrace the perversion and live for it — you’re doomed and you know it. And even worse, you actively recruit and try to corrupt others into your perverted lifestyle. Don’t try to deny it!”

She was not about to try to deny anything. Grace didn’t breathe a word and backed up slightly as Jimbo was really worked up and all she could do is tremble and try to look respectful and meek.

“You fags know you are bound for Hell, and the only way you all react to that is to try to drag others with you! Misery loves company you see!

“Your best bet is to show up here when I need a little stress relief and do a good job of it. Keep your mouth shut about it, obey, and your life here won’t be too awful, I guess. Do you understand me, Carson? Are we clear on this?”

Jimbo walked up to her and looked right into her eyes. She almost flinched but cleared her throat and replied “We are clear on this, sir. Crystal clear, sir.”

Jimbo smiled. “Good! Maybe you are smarter than I thought. If you can behave yourself, take care of things I need taken care of, and keep your mouth shut I think I can see my way to making your life here a little easier than some, maybe. You’re back here tomorrow evening. Got some mowing for you to do. After that, well, meet me in here and take care of… some things for me here. Clear on that, too? ”

“Perfectly, sir. I’ll be here.” Grace replied quickly.

“Good. Now get outta here.”

~o~O~o~

Grace had an uneventful night’s sleep, followed by another dull breakfast. She finished eating and headed to her class, deciding that being late would just mean being closer to one more beating. It wasn’t worth it.

~o~O~o~

Grace arrived to her class on time and found her teacher to be Reverend Hayes. She fought hard to keep her emotions from showing upon seeing her teacher.

She took a seat among five other students and waited for the Happy Time Bullshit Hour to begin.

On the whiteboard up front was written one word: LOVE

“Good morning, class!”

Grace sighed and joined in “Good Morning, Reverend Hayes!”

“Today we’re going to talk about love. Love between God and Man, and Man and Woman, and the perversions of love that Satan has constructed!”

Oh, no, please. Not more of this. Please. God, if you are there, I’ll go volunteer in Africa for You if You would just shut him up… please?

“Now, we know from Genesis that Adam was lonely and needed some help around the home. So, God decided to create a helper for Adam: Eve. That was her purpose, you see! She was to help him, and keep him from being lonely. Do you understand?”

Everyone nodded and Grace nodded as well but thought “Oh I understand all right. You’re a misogynist asshole who hates women and maybe you even have repressed homosexual tendencies."

Hayes was winding himself up. “But SATAN didn’t like that! He approached the weak-willed Eve and easily led her to SIN! And she used her feminine whiles to lead poor Adam into SIN as WELL!!!”

“You SEE, my friends! From the feminine nature springs temptation and wickedness! Without a FIRM hand, Satan gets his foot in the door! You so-called “transgendered” fags try to be women! It’s the evil of SATAN in your SOUL! A man is set above a woman for a PURPOSE! It’s GOD’s WILL!!!”

Grace made another mistake but she just couldn’t help it.

Hayes paused in his tirade. “Carson! What did you say? Repeat that?”

In for a penny… “I said that you should probably convert to Islam.”

“WHAT? WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?”

“Well, the more fundamentalist Muslims hate women and treat them as property rather than people. And they even cover their bodies since they are evil, and all that. You’d fit right in.”

Grace sat stoically, waiting to be given 10 demerits or more. Or maybe locked in ‘Solitary Confinement’ — something she’d heard of offhandedly but knew nothing about yet.

But Hayes surprised her. He laughed at her!

“Carson you are so pitiful. You listen to Satan’s lies and parrot them like a trained bird. You expected a demerit didn’t you? Well, you got one! But you’re not going to bait me in my class. Smart off again like that and you WILL get ten demerits. Understood?”

Grace nodded. The class went on and she endured. What else could she do?

~o~O~o~

The mower was an old-fashioned manual rotary-type push mower, which was not a surprise to Grace in the least. She mowed until dinner, and met Pete outside the Mess Hall.

Pete gave her a sunny smile. “How did your work for Jimbo go last night, Carson?”

Grace responded, “Oh, it was quite a rough evening. I busted my butt and really impressed Jimbo with my talents, I do believe.”

“Carson that’s great! I am so glad to see you fitting in around here at last!”

“Well, Jimbo fits in whether he’s wanted there or not!”

Poor Pete looked confused so Grace let her innuendo drop. She said “Yeah, Jimbo is certainly a character, isn’t he?”

Pete nodded. “He had a rough time when he came here. He lost his wife and son in a fire and he’s never been the same since. I hope he can get over it.”

Grace nodded; surprised she could feel sympathy for even Jimbo.

~o~O~o~

She pulled on the side door of the garage and found it unlocked, as she expected that it would be. She slipped in quickly, closed the door and locked it. She then walked swiftly across the concrete floor to the door that led to Jimbo’s quarters and rapped softly on it. The door opened immediately and Jimbo stepped out. He looked at her for a moment then pointed over to the sawhorse without a word. Grace bit back a sigh and did as instructed.

Jimbo pulled something out of his pocket and held it out to Grace. “Here, take this, for next time. Use it when you get in here, before you knock on my door.” Grace took the object and was quite shocked to see what it was. She slipped it into her pocket and nodded.

Jimbo seemed pleased that she didn’t comment on the request so Grace decided to press her luck.

“Jimbo?”

He had started to turn to go back into his quarters but he stopped and said “What?”

“I was thinking about what you told me last time. And, I was wondering if I could ask you a really big favor?”

Jimbo replied “And what would that be?”

Grace wasn’t about to ask him for his help for her escape plans, because she knew that would just get her beaten. She had her sights set much lower than that, hoping the degradation of being used as a sex toy would at least gain her something besides humiliation.

“You told me how I don’t have any hope… how I am bound for Hell. Maybe you are right about that, I don’t know.”

Jimbo nodded, pleased that she had paid attention. “Go on.”

“But, you know this place is driving me crazy. I really miss having a cigarette from time to time. Could you see your way to get me some?”

He started laughing at her as if she’d told him something hilarious. “Yeah you came in here with those cancer sticks didn’t you? And still wanting them after being without for all this time? See, I was right about the evil inside you wasn’t I, Carson?”

Grace nodded quickly in agreement. “I am, sir. And, I know it. I just want a little pleasure before… you know… Hell.”

That made Jimbo laugh even harder. “Oh you’re a real hoot, Carson. Well, to answer your question: no, I won’t buy you any cigarettes nor anything else like that! The Reverend would have my hide if he found out.”

Grace looked at the floor, dejected that he wouldn’t even do that much.

Jimbo walked over and looked down at her. “However, If you would happen to come across any, on your own… I’d let you smoke in the garage here, after… Nobody comes in here but me.”

He paused for a minute in thought. “Matter of fact, if we confiscate any from an intake I might see my way to bringing them to you. Maybe. You keep old Jimbo happy and I just might come up with some. Either way, you can smoke ‘em in here, I guess, as long as you do it in here and hide them here too. Okay?”

Grace smiled up at him and nodded. “I understand. And, thank you, Jimbo.”

“Don’t thank me too quick, Carson. Just remember: if you get caught smoking or doing anything else you shouldn’t it’s all on you. One word about me and you don’t even want to think about what I will do to you. Got it?”

“Yes, sir, I do.”

He nodded and went to his door and was gone.

~o~O~o~

Grace sat on her cot and thought a lot about the object Jimbo had given her. She held it in her hands, took the lid off for the fifth time and stared at the cherry red Maybelline lipstick before slipping the lid back on. Maybe he wants me to look more feminine so that in his mind he is less ‘gay’ when he is fucking my ass? Or maybe he just has a thing for trannies? Either way, I guess I will wear it if it keeps him more civil and gives me a tiny bit of freedom. And I am kind of proud of my acting for him… maybe I have a future as an actress!

She slept well that night, her aching rear end starting to ease off.

~o~O~o~

The days passed, and another week was gone. Everything was becoming a blur to Grace. Her world revolved around the stupid chores calendar on the blackboard. She was beginning to have bizarre dreams, and in them, the camp became Stalag 13 from the old sixties show “Hogan’s Heroes.” Pete would make a good Sgt. Schultz, anyways, I suppose.

Grace was more than a little concerned about her bizarre dreams and her lost sense of time.

~o~O~o~

Emily greeted Grace with a hug and Grace thought she smelled cigarette smoke on the woman. But, she decided that wasn’t the case and she was imagining it.

But, later as they were breaking beans and talking Emily leaned in close to talk to her. Grace’s nose caught another whiff of that tantalizing scent and then she realized: Emily had recently had a cigarette!

“Emily, you smoke, don’t you?” Grace asked.

The woman showed a guarded expression and said “Yes, though they fuss at me often for it. I keep it out of sight of everyone here as much as I can. I often wish I could quit but I’d miss it too much. Why do you ask?”

“Since you offered to help me any way you can, could you possibly get me a pack of cigarettes?”

Emily gasped “Grace I can’t do that! If they caught you with them they’d want to know where you got them and they’d beat it out of you. And then I’d be in a world of hurt! I keep my own smoking as secret as I can. It’s not looked on here very well.”

“I won’t get caught, Emily. I have an… understanding, with someone here. I have a place to hide them and to smoke them safely. Please, Emily, I need them. I am going fucking insane in this nuthouse!”

Grace watched Emily closely as the woman was obviously thinking things over. Her face had been troubled but her expression lightened a bit as she finally said “Okay, Grace. I will slip a pack in my purse and bring it to you. Some matches, too? Or a lighter? And what brand do you want me to bring you?”

“A lighter would be good. And Virginia Slims, regulars, please.”

Emily snorted and replied “I should have known!”

Grace grinned in response.

“If you get caught with them, please, for the love of God, don’t tell them I gave them to you. Okay?”

Grace’s face went solemn. “I promise that I will not under any circumstance tell them, Emily. If I were to get caught, I will say I stole them from some woman’s purse in the Admin building.”

“I’ll have them for you tomorrow, honey.”

Grace grinned. One small victory, at least. Right now she would take whatever small victories she could get.

~o~O~o~

Grace tore the cellophane off the pack of Virginia Slims and then the foil and with shaking hands pulled one out. She placed it in her lips and lit the cigarette and took a long drag. After inhaling she felt her head spinning and the much anticipated sense of relief that it brought. Grace felt nothing but pure ecstasy as she drew on the rapidly shrinking cigarette again and again.

Jimbo stood watching her with contempt as she took one drag after another.

“See that’s just one more thing that shows how weak you are Carson. You’ve been off those cancer sticks for well over a month and the first chance you get here you are sucking on them again. A real man isn’t weak like you! A real man resists letting a little stick of tobacco take over his life. But you’re not a man any more are you?”

Grace didn’t know what response would be wise so she just nodded and took another deep drag.

Jimbo smirked at her and shook his head. “You know you are bound for Hell when you die, and here you are making sure you shorten your life so you can get to Hell faster.”

“I needed these, Jimbo. I’m going crazy in this place and any relief I can find I will take.”

Jimbo snorted. “You should be looking for relief in the Bible. Reverend Hayes says that is the only way to find happiness and peace, you know.”

Grace took a drag and asked Jimbo “What about you, Jimbo? Has this place and Hayes and his people brought you that?”

Jimbo looked troubled. “My problems are my own entire fault. The reverend just tries to help me. Not his fault that he can’t fix some things.”

“Seems to me, Jimbo, that maybe he doesn’t have all the answers after all?” she asked, softly.

Jimbo grunted. “Maybe, maybe not.”

“Maybe he sells hate, bigotry, and damnation because that is all he has to sell?” she pushed.

Jimbo looked slightly uncomfortable but the comment hit right on target, it was obvious.

He turned to go but couldn’t resist a bit more commentary. “Make sure and turn off the lights and don’t let anyone see you leave. I’ll leave you here to work on getting to Hell faster!” He laughed, shook his head, and went through the door and it closed behind him.

Grace took a final drag and walked over to the small garage bathroom and entered, dropped the spent butt in the toilet, then flushed and replied in a whisper “I am in Hell, Jimbo. But, I hope to find a way out of it.”

~o~O~o~

After breakfast, Grace was surprised to find Pete leading her to the camp bus. She raised an eyebrow and he said “Public Service, Carson. The camp sends out workers from time to time. They clean, paint, wash houses and cars. A little of everything. I’ll see you when you get back!”

Grace nodded and followed the waiting guard onto the bus, where she found seven others. Some smiled and nodded, others just stared at her with hateful or blank expressions.

She looked towards the front of the bus, seeing that the guards were not paying attention at all — they were all laughing and talking amongst themselves. She turned back to the other inmates and smirked.

“I can tell which of you are ‘converted’ and which are not, just by how you treat me. You converted are full of hate and fear, and the unconverted are nice to me. Isn’t that ironic?”

That got her more glares from some and a few snickers and chuckles from the rest.

~o~O~o~

The bus dropped her and one other off along with one guard. She was assigned to Mrs. Owen’s house. She was led around to the side where cans of paint and a roller, tray, and brushes awaited.

“All right fag. Start painting this house. You fags are supposed to be artistic! Well, let’s see you in action!”

The guard laughed uproariously at his pathetic humor. Grace did the smart thing and got to work. Putting him down with a cutting remark would only earn her a demerit.

Grace was not only exhausted but her shirt was soaked with sweat and splattered with paint, her pants were in the same condition. She was debating on whether or not to request a drink of water when Mrs. Owen came out with a tall glass and approached the guard.

“Lance, it sure is hot out here. I thought you could use a glass of lemonade!”

“Awww, thanks Mrs. Owen, I really appreciate it!”

Grace worked up the courage and looked at the old woman and said “Could I have a glass of water, Mrs. Owen?”

The woman ignored her and looked at the deputy and said “Imagine, a fag asking me for a favor. It will ask for a lot of water in Hell, won’t it?”

Lance brayed laughter and brandished the cattle prod at Grace in an obvious “get back to work” gesture.

Mrs. Owen went back in her house and Grace glanced back at the guard and said “Really nice people you have here in your town.”

“Shut up, fag. She’s a nice lady, but since you don’t know I’ll lay it out for you. Her husband ran off with some perverted tranny like you three years ago. Your kind ruined her marriage and her life. So just shut your yap and get your painting done.”

~o~O~o~

Riding back from church on Sunday, Maddy and Grace managed to get a little time together. Maddy wasted no time bring her up to speed on things. “One more disappeared, Grace. I don’t think you knew her, Patty Tomlinson?”

Grace shook her head.

“She’s a lesbian, put in here the same way you and I were, as an inmate. She was usually in the laundry detail with me. We’d iron and starch and work together a lot. She’s just… gone.” Maddy trailed off, obviously very troubled.

Grace pondered things for a short while. “It might be good for us to try to find out what is going on. Emily doesn’t know, and I doubt Pete would. I’ll talk to Jimbo about it.”

Maddy gasped. “Jimbo! That redneck jerk? He wouldn’t tell you the time of day!”

Grace smiled. “I think he’s starting to like me, a little. Even though sometimes I’d like to toss him off a cliff after what he did to me.” Maddy was shocked and appalled when Grace gave her a short rundown of her rape by Jimbo and then stunned to learn that he was actually being nicer to her as time went by.

The bus reached camp, and after a quick hand squeeze they each returned to their cots for their Happy Fun-time Bible Study Hours (as Grace referred to it).

~o~O~o~

Grace fell into a routine where she mostly dreaded Fridays and Sundays. Fridays because of the perpetually-pissed Ray; and Sundays because she had to sit through two sessions of the insanity spewed by Hayes. Time passed, and Grace wondered if they would really let her go when her time had been served.

~o~O~o~

As part of her Maintenance duties today, Grace was informed that she would be emptying wastebaskets, sweeping, mopping, and dusting various offices in the Admin building. She had plenty of time to complete this before her rendezvous with Jimbo in the garage.

She indulged her curiosity while cleaning, snooping through papers, drawers, and closets. Nothing much was found of interest until she prowled in a closet in a room that was obviously used to record video and audio. Apparently it was the room that Hayes used to do his weekly radio sermons. In the closet she found two video cameras — one was a huge beast, obviously from the last decade. One was still nestled in the box it came in, having been taken out perhaps once then put back.

Grace toyed with the idea of taking the little camera and filming some kind of expose of the camp. But, where would she hide the camera? And use it? How would she get the recording out to the world?

She decided to risk taking the camera and would hide it away somewhere in the garage.

Grace did find one other treasure while cleaning the offices, and she slipped it into her pocket before leaving. It was a large wide-tipped black Sharpie.

~o~O~o~

“Jimbo, I have a question for you.”

He nodded. “Go ahead.”

“Where do those who vanish end up? I know that people just vanish here, and that nobody will talk about it. Please, tell me?”

They had just finished what Grace, in the privacy of her own head, only, labeled “Jimbo’s Sexy Time”. She still had her lipstick on and was smoking. Jimbo had been watching her closely, she had noticed. She knew many men liked to watch a woman smoke, and it seemed that Jimbo might be one of them. One more weapon in my arsenal, I suppose?

Grace knew the answer was not a good one as Jimbo did not even look at her after she asked. Instead, he looked down at the floor and was silent, obviously debating what to tell her.

He sighed and said in a very low voice “Reverend Hayes gives all our, let’s say, non-consensual prisoners? Yeah, that’s a pretty good way to put it. He gives them a certain amount of time and chances to make things right with God, and come to Jesus, and repent. If they don’t do it in good time… well, that’s that. I can’t say no more.”

Grace puffed and though about that. It didn’t sound good.

“Jimbo, how does the Reverend decide that someone’s time is up?”

Jimbo shook his head. “I dunno, Grace, err, Carson. He’s never told me”

“VERY interesting slip there on his part!” Grace thought. She walked over to the garage bathroom to ditch the butt and considered that since Jimbo had started using her for ‘relief’ that he’d been treating her more like a woman and less like a ‘fag’ male. Of course, that’s a small step up for his type. Women, to men like him, are barely above ‘dog’ and ‘horse’ on the hierarchy. Still, it’s some improvement I guess.

“I wonder if I will ever be allowed to leave here?” she asked.

“Well, see, I don’t really know. You’re supposed to serve your 11-29 and get out but a lot of that is up to the County Liaison,” he answered.

“Oh. Well, who is that?”

Jimbo laughed. “I hate to say it, but it is Mrs. Watson!”

Grace groaned. “I’ll be here for 400 years!”

Jimbo nodded, still laughing but also giving her a sympathetic look. Grace started laughing, too. It all really was just too much.

Jimbo gave her a friendly wave and disappeared back into his quarters. She went ahead and lit another cigarette and sat on one of the stools. It was time to seriously think about how to get out of here. Beyond that, get out of here as a non-felon, without an outstanding arrest warrant as an escapee.

~o~O~o~

The next morning, as the recording of reveille played, and the inmates dressed, Grace had a small smile on her face. Pete didn’t appear, instead Grace was treated to an angry Mrs. Watson. “All of you, outside, and line up!”

The prisoners walked outside and lined up in two lines, facing an angry Mrs. Watson and a red-faced Reverend Hayes, along with two of the guards. None of them appeared to be happy.

“I want to know, right now, WHO DID THIS?” Hayes thundered.

The prisoners, including Grace, looked around innocently.

Hayes’ red face turned redder. “THIS!” He pointed at the various buildings. Each had a new label. The men’s barracks was labeled “AUSHCWITZ” in block capitals. The Mess Hall was labeled “HELL’s KITCHEN”.’ The women’s barracks had a new label as well “DACHAU.” The Admin building even had a new label: “ABANDON HOPE, YE WHO ENTER HERE.”

Written under the AUSCHWITZ caption was the phrase “ARBEIT MACHT FREI.” Grace glanced at Jay, who certainly got the reference. Quite a few of them were trying to hide smirks.

As nobody had stepped forward to claim responsibility, Hayes was apoplectic. “If someone doesn’t come forward or if I don’t hear who did this you will ALL suffer punishment!”

Grace decided to walk forward, but before she did Jay took two steps ahead of her. “I did it, Reverend Hayes.”

“Did you, now? Somehow I don’t believe you.”

“Nevertheless, it was me.”

Hayes didn’t look happy, as if he knew Jay was covering for someone. “Five demerits! We’ll see you at Discipline next week!” He stormed off, and Mrs. Watson marked his demerits in her book with a scowl, then stomped back to her office as the inmates all headed to breakfast.

Grace slid up next to Jay as they walked. “Jay… why? You knew that I did it. I was going to step forward and take my punishment before I let all of you face it for me.”

Jay grinned at her. “Grace, we all needed a laugh at their expense. It’s worth it to me. You can owe me one!”

~o~O~o~

After breakfast, Pete said he had a surprise for Grace.

“Oh, really? Let me guess, ok?”

“Sure, try to guess!”

“A horse-whipping!”

“Wha- NO!”

“Umm, ok. Water-boarding?”

“NO! C’mon Carson, be serious!”

“Oh, I am serious as a heart-attack, Petey. Ooh, I know. They’ll hook up a chain to each hand and foot, and each one hooked to a different car, and pull me apart!”

Pete gaped at her. “Where do you get such crazy ideas, Carson? No! Your first parole hearing is today! You’ve been here a month now!”

The ‘parole hearing’ was a farce, as she expected. But it was also a break in the monotony, so that was all right. Her ‘parole board’ was a grim sight: Reverend Hayes, Mrs. Watson, and good old Pete.

Grace bit on her tongue to stop from laughing at the absurdity.

Hayes started right off. “Well, Carson, one month here now for you! How about that!” He made it sound like the time just flies when such fun is to be had!

Grace fired right back. “Oh, I know! It seems like I just got here yesterday! I’ve been so busy and met so many new and interesting friends that I just plumb forgot how long I’d been here!”

That got her a smile from Pete, a glare from Mrs. Watson, and a confused look from Hayes.

Hayes shook his head and went on. “Ahem. The question before us is: have you rehabilitated yourself. You came to us as a cocaine-using fag, masquerading as a woman. Do you still consider yourself a woman, Carson?”

Grace discarded the first half-dozen responses that came to mind. Finally, she decided to just barrel ahead.

“I could go into a long discussion of gender dysphoria, XXY chromosomes, chemical estrogen enhancement caused by our polluted environment, and all that. But, it would get me nowhere. It would piss off at least two of you and I still wouldn’t get out of here. So, yeah, I am a woman, always have been. Always will be. I can’t change that. Oh, and we both know that the Sheriff planted that cocaine in my car so that I would be put here. You’re not fooling anyone.”

Mrs. Watson smirked. “You can throw all that satanic gobbledygook at us you want, you fag. We know what the truth is. You don’t have real breasts. You don’t have a vagina. You don’t have ovaries. You’re NOT a woman!”

Grace responded softly “Ah, I see. So if a woman has a hysterectomy and/or a mastectomy she is no longer a woman?”

Mrs. Watson glared and Hayes thundered “Don’t start trying to twist things around like your worldly father, Satan! If you want to continue to pretend you are a woman, then so be it. Parole will be denied!”

Mrs. Watson chimed in, “It should be obvious to you that you are a sickening fag after all we’ve done to help you see the light. We have opened the door but YOU have to walk through it!”

Back to Hayes, who nodded in agreement. “We unlock the door from the dark cage of sin but you have to come out into the light, my friend.”

And back to Mrs. Watson, who also nodded and then said, “We only want to save your soul!”

Grace felt almost as if she was watching a tennis match. This spiel seemed so pat and practiced she figured they’d used it many times before.

Hayes spoke up. “There is a way you can help yourself, Carson.”

Grace nodded and listened.

Hayes continued, “We do radio services that I tape on Saturday. We also sometimes do TV spots for the local cable companies. If you’d be willing to record a spot for radio and TV repenting and explaining how you have been duped by Satan into pretending to be a woman, seducing men by fooling them and turning them into sodomites, well then! That changes things, you see, and we could see fit to stamp an “OK” on your parole request. What do you say?”

Grace kept her temper, barely. “Let me see if I have this correct. You want me to get on television and tell the world that my entire life since high school has been one big lie, and that I was some kind of sick Satan-worshiping transvestite whore? And you have shown me the error of my ways?”

Both Mrs. Watson and Hayes saw that she had gotten it! They both smiled and Hayes said “Exactly, Carson! Oh, we’d type your confession and repentance up for you. All you’d need to do is read it and smile for the camera!”

Mrs. Watson nodded.

Grace didn’t hesitate, though she did reign in her temper. “No, I won’t do that. It would not only be a lie, but might actually hurt someone who has gender dysphoria like I do. I can’t do that.”

The smiles vanished as soon as she had started talking. Mrs. Watson’s expression went back to her usual ‘I just ate a lemon’ and Hayes glowered at her.

Hayes stood up. “Very well, if that is how you want it, Carson. Your parole is denied. Your next hearing will be in six months — IF you can avoid further demerits. Somehow, I don’t think you will.”

Mrs. Watson laughed. “I know he won’t!”

Mrs. Watson smirked and pointed at the door. Pete looked sad as he left with Grace.

~o~O~o~

Later that week she filled Emily in on her so-called ‘parole hearing’ and the offer that had been made.

“Emily, as badly as I want to get out of here, I can’t betray who I am and the road I’ve traveled. Not to mention, the thought of me on television telling some poor teenager who is gender dysphoric that they are just a ‘fag’ who has been tricked by Satan and must conform to gender norms? I could never live with myself if I did that!”

Emily hugged her and said, “I agree with you, Grace. That would be trading your self-respect for your freedom. Not a good bargain in my book.”