Chapter 3: the courtyard

Thanks to When-a-Sprite-Meets-Unicorn and Verarose19 for your reviews. Good reading.

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There are no more decorations in the courtyard. They took it all down after Mother's Day. Girls in flip-flops are heading nonchalantly towards their dorms, a little stunned by the sun. Others are sprawled out on picnic tables or on the grilled grass. They shares cans of cherry coke.

Blanca looks at Maritza who is playing dominoes with the rest of the group. Yesterday evening, Maritza did not come to work. She didn't have dinner, either. Several other mothers did the same as her. They stayed in their boxes, only supporting lonelyness. Blanca is not a mother. Yet, she is also feeling the deep melancholy that invaded Litchfield, after this day of celebration, which looked like a small piece of normal life, coming to disrupt daily life at the camp. A window open to the world, closed immediately. Before falling asleep, she had cry for a long time, without really understanding why. It was kind of good, like a weight was slowly leaving her shoulders.

Today she still feels weird. She navigates between the tables, among the laughter, sits a little away from the others, on a ban, next to Gloria. She leaves a small space between them.

She watches them play. Daya is counting the points. Maria is scowled. Aleida, who always knows all the gossips , told them that yesterday her boyfriend told her that he will not be bringing her baby to visit her. Blanca joined the others in saying this is unfair. In reality, she doesn't really know what to think about this. She just thinks is even less breathable since mother's day.

In her hands, Alice Munro's short story collection is moist. She wipes her palms on her thighs, opens the book, scrolls through the pages.

XXX

Daya walks away, worried because she doesn't have news from Bennett, puzzled because burnt books funeral is taking place before her eyes. Washington continues to state out the titles, fervently. Taystee hums. It's a bit crazy, and out of proportion, but Blanca appreciates the love these girls have for books, with an almost religious consideration. Books are a good way to support her current life.

When it's over, Washington turns to her and smiles. She glances around the courtyard, to make sure no one sees her, then takes something from her pants pocket:

"Do you want that, Flores, for the dark days?" she said solemnly. In her hand, an old issue of Teen vogue.

Blanca smiles back at her:

"What the hell do you want me to do with this?"

"You do what you want," Jefferson smirks. "Me, I did all the tests that are in mine. It really relaxes."

"Yeah," Washington confirms. "You can also make up little stories about the girls on the cover," she adds.

"You two are too weird." Blanca puts the magazine in her own pocket. "Why is there a whole stock of Teen Vogue in a prison, besides?"

"I don't know, sometimes you better avoid asking too many questions," Taystee replies. "It's the only things we managed to save, anyway."

XXX

Litchfield Penitentiary, June 27, 2014

Dear Diablo,

I am sitting at one of the picnic tables, alone. The yard is calm. a little further, girls are carrying stuff to build a new building. The birds sing. I've never been to a campsite, but I imagine it looks like this: a place where the sun is shining, with fields all around. People are happier, over there, maybe.

Yesterday, Diaz had her baby. You know, my bunky's daughter, the girl who was pregnant since a million years . It was pretty sad. She had an argument with her mother, and I think they fight until they took her to the hospital. I guess it was horrible for Aleida, watching her daughter going away, not knowing if she would be okay, then. Yet when I saw her at night in the dorm, she looked relieved. That's strange, I know. Something good probably happened during the day.

I'm glad to don't have children, you know. Life here is tough, depressing. For those who have children, it looks worse. But, I'm thankful to have you in my life, baby. I'm telling you this because I see that some of these girls are less alone than me here, but sometimes they seem to don't have anyone to support them outside. Me, I know you're waiting for me, that my life will begin when I get out of here. I know I have a chance to do it right with you.

I would like to have some funny things to tell you, but nothing in particular is happening at the moment. You remember the telenovela in the kitchen. Well, there isn't any more. Since Red took over the management, Gloria is relieved. We all shared a meal together, cooked with real vegetables, like the ones that grew in the vieja garden.

I hope you will receive this letter before Saturday. I also hope you are doing well. Don't worry about me, I have enough money in my account. You don't have to take just any job because of it.

I love you, and I think of you.

Ps, I'm very comfortable writing to you now, even if it was weird to do that at first. But, I'd rather warn you that when I get out, we'll burn all those fucking letters, to turn the page.

PPS, if you miss me too much, imagine your little sprite, lost in the woods.

XXX

1 / I enjoyed writing a little thing with Taystee and Poussey, the funeral of books is one of my favorite moments in season 3, and it symbolizes their friendship

2 / At first it was difficult to write a letter from Blanca to Diablo, but in the end I had fun. As I reread it, I tell myself that even though she was very lonely at Litchfield at times, he was always a great support away, and that's beautiful..