A Lady's Choice (23 page)

The matron lifted her foot toward Sarah's mouth, which nearly touched the floor. “You made the mess. Now lick it off!”

Sarah clenched her lips and twisted her head away. The guards bent her forward again until her mouth touched the tip of the matron's shoe.

All around her the inmates screamed as they yelled for the guards to quit, but the pressure on her head increased. Strong hands pushed her face until it scraped the floor, and they forced her mouth to smear across the shoe and through the gruel.

Finally they relaxed their grip, and Sarah, her face streaked with the remains of her meal, peered up at Matron Herndon. A cruel smile curled the woman's lips. “What do you have to say now, Princess?”

Sarah stiffened her body and looked into the face before her. “I have done nothing wrong. I am a political prisoner.”

“Get her out of my sight,” the matron snarled. “We'll see how hungry she gets before morning.”

The guards pulled her to her feet, and Sarah stood and wiped her face with her hand. “I don't intend to eat anything else in this prison until I'm rightfully freed from here.”

The guards grabbed her and turned toward the door. Sarah looked over her shoulder as they led her away and smiled at Laura in hopes of gaining some courage and strength from her friend. Her heart pounded, and energy coursed through her body. If they wanted a fight, they'd get one.

“Poppa, watch me. I'll be an adversary,” she whispered.

Sarah blinked and tried to focus her eyes on the tree outside the window. With her blurred vision, she could barely make out the lines of the tree limbs, bare now of their leaves, waving in the early November wind.

She tried to remember how long it had been since she had eaten, but she found it difficult to hold on to any thoughts. She shivered and rubbed her arms. Her skin prickled from the icy coldness that filled her body. She glanced at the other women sitting in the room. Everyone seemed lost in thought, their faces devoid of any expression. She wondered if their arms and legs felt weak like hers.

Her hair hadn't been combed in days, and she reached up to brush some from her eyes. She frowned and stared in unbelief at her hand as she pulled it away. Her fingers grasped long blond hairs. With a gasp she spread her fingers, and the hairs fell to her lap.

Panic struck her as she reached up and tugged at the locks that tumbled over her forehead. A tangled clump pulled from her head. She was losing her hair. Buy why?

She looked up and Ruth Cochran stood in front of her. Without speaking, Sarah held out her fingers for Ruth to see. The guard knelt beside Sarah's chair and touched her arm. “Hair loss is a symptom of starvation, Sarah. You haven't eaten in a week and you were already malnourished before you began this hunger strike. Give up this ridiculous rebellion before it kills you.”

Sarah clenched her teeth and shook her head. “If I die, it'll be for something I believe.”

Ruth shook her head sadly. “I don't want to see you get hurt more.”

“What more could you possibly do to me?” Sarah averted her gaze from the woman.

Ruth stood and moved back to the front of the sewing room with the other guard. The door opened, and Sarah looked up to see two men enter the room with Matron Herndon. She spoke softly to the guards. Ruth frowned and cast a quick glance in Sarah's direction.

Matron Herndon walked to where Sarah sat and bent over her. “Will you give up this hunger strike and eat some food?”

Sarah tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry. “I am a political prisoner. I have broken no laws. I will eat when I'm released from this workhouse.”

Matron Herndon grabbed her arm and jerked her out of her chair. “I think you may change your tune, Princess.”

She pushed Sarah to the front of the room where the group stood. A middle-aged man dressed in a wrinkled black suit peered at her through wire-rimmed spectacles. His loosely knotted tie bulged upward from the vest that fit snugly across his midriff.

“I'm Dr. Gannon, the prison physician, and I'm here to help you.” His soothing voice contradicted the look of anger Sarah detected in his eyes.

Sarah struggled to straighten her shoulders and push to her full height. She gritted her teeth and bent double when sudden stomach cramps attacked her. She inhaled a deep breath, “H–how can you help me?”

The doctor placed his finger under her chin and tilted her face up until she stared into his eyes. “You're suffering from malnutrition. The guards tell me you haven't eaten in a week. That's a long time to go without food.”

Sarah crossed her arms over her stomach and shook her head. “I–I'm f–fine. I'm a political prisoner who has broken no laws. I refuse to eat until we are released from this horrible place.”

Dr. Gannon shook his head sadly. “We can't allow you to die because you won't eat, so we're going to help you.”

Sarah hobbled a step back from the group and surveyed the faces watching her. These people had no desire to make things better for her. Her gaze darted around the room for an escape route, but none existed.

The guards took a step toward her, and Sarah frowned. She raised her arms to fight them off, but her hand flopped like the wings of a wounded bird. “D–Don't t–touch me. I've done nothing wrong.”

Ruth Cochran moved in front of the other guards. An expression of regret shadowed her eyes, and she clenched her lips. She reached for Sarah's arm. “We just want to help you, Sarah.”

“No.” What she had intended as a scream released more like a moan.

The two men pushed past Ruth, grabbed Sarah's arms, and pulled her toward the door. Despite her weakness, Sarah willed her feet to kick at her attackers. The man who entered with Dr. Gannon cried out in pain. “Ow, you little hellion, you nearly broke my leg.”

The cries of the women in the sewing room bounced off the walls. “Let her go! She's done nothing wrong!”

Sarah turned her face toward the hand that gripped her arm and clamped her teeth into the soft flesh.

“Let go, or you'll be sorry!”

Sarah increased the pressure until she felt the hand release her arm. She looked up into the angry eyes of Matron Hendron.

Sarah quaked at the sight of the woman raising her nightstick into the air. This attack had now become a matter of survival, and Sarah threw her released arm over her head to ward off the blow. The nightstick crashed down on her arm, and Sarah sank to the floor in pain. Dizziness overtook her, and she struggled to stand but could not. She felt her body being lifted and carried from the room.

Dr. Gannon's assistant, who supported her weight as if she were light as a feather, walked quickly through the halls and descended the stairway into the basement. Sarah tried to wriggle free, but he held her tightly. “Be still. You're making this worse for yourself.”

Where were they taking her? She felt the dizziness again and wished she could sleep and never wake. A face flashed before her eyes. “Alex,” she whispered.

Welcoming darkness closed over her.

Sarah blinked her eyes open and lay still for a moment as she tried to figure out where she was. She winced at the piercing beam of a bright light shining into her face and realized she sat upright in a chair. People moved about the room and spoke in soft whispers, but she couldn't make out what they were saying. She wanted to rub her eyes to clear her blurred vision, but her arms wouldn't move.

Slowly her surroundings came into focus, and she turned her head to stare about the room. Shelves containing medical utensils and bottles of various liquids lined the white walls. Footsteps approached her bed, and she looked up into the face of Dr. Gannon. He held a long tube in his hand.

“Sarah, you must be fed for your own good. We don't want you to die.”

Understanding of her situation flashed in her mind, and terror rose in her throat. “No.” She hardly recognized the feeble voice that protested the coming assault. Again she tried to raise her arms, but something restrained them.

Dr. Gannon leaned closer. “This will go a lot easier if you don't fight us.”

Sarah turned her head to the side and gritted her teeth.

Dr. Gannon sighed. “Have it your way.” He hesitated a moment before he spoke to someone nearby. “I've got to begin. Hold her down.”

Strong hands pinned her arms and legs to the chair. Another person held her head. Dr. Gannon bent over her again. “Open your mouth, Sarah.”

She tried to twist from the grip of those holding her, but it was no use. Determined the tube would not slip between her lips, she gritted her teeth and clamped her mouth shut.

“Stubborn, huh? Well, I can be too.”

And then she felt it. The tube slipped into her left nostril and snaked its way toward her throat. As it scraped and gouged its way through the passageway, waves of nausea rolled through her, and she retched violently.

Something wet tickled her upper lip, and the taste of blood trickled into her mouth. She twisted in an attempt to escape, and her chest heaved as she gasped for air. The more she resisted, the harder the doctor pushed.

Sarah thought the assault would never end. After a few minutes Dr. Gannon released his hold on the tube. “It's in her stomach now.”

Sarah panted in dread of what would come next. Dr. Gannon turned, picked up a container, and began to pour a liquid through the funnel at the protruding end of the tube. “This isn't moving fast enough,” she heard someone say. “It's backing up in the tube.”

Sarah gagged, and the contents spewed from her mouth. Her hope that it would end died when Dr. Gannon began to pour again. As the foul-smelling liquid continued to pour into her stomach, Sarah lost all sense of time. It seemed hours before she heard Dr. Gannon speak again.

“We're just about finished.”

She tried to relax, hoping that would speed up the end of her torment. At last, she felt the hose being withdrawn. She opened her eyes and watched the doctor pull it from her nostril. She shivered at the sight of the blood-covered tubing.

Ruth Cochran stepped forward. She released Sarah's arm, handed her a cloth, and guided it to her nose. “Here, Sarah. Use this to stop your nose bleed.”

Blood rushed from her nostrils, and she pressed the handkerchief to her nose. Her stomach churned, and she felt bile rising in her throat.

She turned her head to the side of the chair and expelled the contents of her stomach all over the floor. When she had finished, she sat back exhausted.

Matron Herndon stepped up. “Take her back to her cell for now. We'll try again tonight.”

The words penetrated Sarah's foggy mind, and she froze in fear. They were going to do this again? Soft whimpers drifted from her throat. “No. Please, no.”

Ruth Cochran bent over her. “If you'll eat, they won't do this again. Please say you will.”

She wanted to say yes to anything that would keep her from having to endure again the torture she had just been through. But before she could speak, she remembered telling her father she would be an adversary. Instead of yielding to the kindness she heard in Ruth's voice, she closed her eyes. “I'm a political prisoner. I have done nothing wrong. I'll eat when we're released from this workhouse.”

Matron Herndon leaned over her and sneered. “Have it your way, Princess. We'll send you to your cell for now, but we'll see you later.”

Without saying another word, Sarah allowed herself to be lifted and stood upright. Ruth held on to her to keep her from falling and supported her as she stumbled from the room. Minutes later Ruth helped her into her cell and onto her cot.

Blood still oozed from Sarah's nostrils, her stomach cramped, and her head swam in dizziness, but if felt good to be in a familiar bed. She pulled the sour smelling cover over her shoulders and turned to the wall.

Ruth left the cell and returned a few minutes later. She pulled the dirty blanket from the bed and spread another over Sarah. The fresh scent of soap drifted up to Sarah, and she curled into the softness of the clean coverlet.

The memory of a baseball field and a woman with the kindest smile she'd ever encountered entered her foggy mind, and she smiled. “Thank you, Ellen, for being my friend.”

Sarah jerked from the edge of sleep and looked up. Ruth Cochran, not Ellen, stood over her. This wasn't a baseball field. It was a prison, and she was more alone than she had ever been in her life. “I think I must have talked in my sleep. Thanks for the clean blanket.”

Ruth knelt down beside the bed. “Sarah, do you have any family I need to notify? Maybe Ellen.”

Sarah felt the tears well in her eyes. “I have an uncle and aunt. Ellen is someone who was very kind to me when my mother was dying.”

“Let me contact your uncle and aunt or Ellen.”

“No. They don't know I've been arrested, and I don't want them to worry.”

“Isn't there anyone else?”

Words someone else had spoken drifted through her mind. “
If you ever need me, let me know. I'll come for you wherever you are. That's my promise to you.”

But Alex had another life now, and she had turned her back on him. A tear rolled from the corner of her eye. “No, there's no one else.”

Rush squeezed Sarah's arm before she pushed to her feet. “I'm sorry this is happening to you. Get some sleep. I think they'll be back for you before very long.”

Sarah heard the key turn in the lock of the cell. They would be here for her again soon. Until then she would rest.