Diary of an Ugly Duckling (35 page)

are they? I hope not. You’ve done your time, now it’s

time for the Army to honor its end of the bargain and

bring you home. Michael, too. Enough is enough.

I’ve gotta go or I’ll be late. Not a good thing for my

first day back.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

Be careful out there,

Audra

“You’re gonna need a new badge, Marks,” Dar-

lene Fuchs said when Audra clocked in.

“That’s the only way anyone’s going to know you.”

The uniform was brand-new, in some tiny size

called only “petite small” on the uniform sizing chart,

and it fit her trim hips and brand-new bodacious

behind in a way that the designer probably never

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Karyn Langhorne

intended the drab fabric to do. She wore a crisp,

white, fresh-out-of-the-box shirt with every button

flat, including those outlining the high peaks of her

new breasts.

“Real or fake?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow at

Audra’s hair.

“Extensions,” Audra answered, checking over the

duty roster. There was only one name she was look-

ing for . . . and it wasn’t there. “Where’s Bradshaw?

He’s still working this shift, right?”

“Called in sick,” the other woman said, still eye-

ing Audra interestedly. “How much weight did you

lose?”

“In all?” Audra calculated. “About eighty-five

pounds of fat . . .” She made a mental note to thank

Julienne as she made a bicep pop for the woman.

“But I’ve built up a good deal of muscle, too, so it

looks like more.”

“Amazing. I wouldn’t have known on the street if

I fell on you, seriously, Marks.” She stretched the

bare forearm emerging from the short sleeve of her

uniform blouse toward Audra. “You and I are nearly

the same color, since it’s summer and I have a tan.

How did they do that anyway?”

“Do what?” Audra asked innocently, grinning

broadly.

Darlene laughed. “You don’t actually plan to pre-

tend like you were born that color, do you?”

Audra shrugged. “ ‘Hey, if it works for Michael

Jackson, it might work for me.” She paused. “Did . . .

did Bradshaw say what was wrong?”

“Nope,” Darlene shook her head casually enough,

but her expression said she was quickly reaching

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299

conclusions about the reasons for Audra’s interest.

“You’re doing day room patrols today . . . in fact, all

week. Next week you’ll switch back to the night

shift. That all right?”

“Fine,” Audra said, checking her weapon and

strapping on her holster and trying most unsuccess-

fully to feign the most casual of interest as she

asked, “Bradshaw still have that detail? When he

gets back, of course . . .”

“Of course, Marks,” Darlene said sweetly. She

leaned close and smiled. “The way he’s been talking

about you for the past three months, I’d say you’d

have to screw up big time to keep from reeling him

in,” she whispered. “Congratulations.”

Audra felt her face go numb. Darlene was con-

gratulating her, but Art was evading her, it was obvi-

ous. It was beginning to look like she’d
already

blown it, big time . . . right when she finally had a

chance. “Thanks,” she mumbled in Darlene’s gen-

eral direction and turned away with a heavy heart.

“You boys are going to lose all your privileges if you

don’t cut it out,” Audra shouted, but it was hard to

keep the ghost of a smile from the corners of her lips

with the hoots and catcalls answering the swing of

her hips as she strode ahead along the line of con-

victs moving in a slow formation toward the day

room. “Keep it up and you’ll all be in your cells for a

week with no rec time at all.”

They reached the day room and Audra counted

them in, watching the men’s faces as they passed her,

registering their appreciation. Some addressed her

in low voices—she heard “baby,” “flower,” “sweet

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thing”—while others addressed her with their eyes,

clearly enjoying the carefully crafted arrangement

of flesh. Not one of them seemed to know her, even

though—with the exception of a few unfamiliar

faces—Audra knew she could call each one of them

out by both number and name. Even Haines saun-

tered by her, his lips losing their habitual sneer of

disdain long enough for him to look her over and

leer something that in his twisted universe was

probably considered a smile. Audra doubted he’d

have given her more than his usual cursory glare if

he had recognized her.

Nothing like that was ever likely to happen again.

She’d worked too hard to lose the weight to ever risk

gaining it back, and instead of brute strength, she’d

already signed up for refresher self-defense classes

to insure her skills were still sharp enough to subdue

a prisoner if necessary. And fortunately, she still had

brains . . . even if she’d lost a bit of her brawn.

“Officer,” Haines greeted her in his sneering way

and there was a touch of awe in his voice that Audra

had never heard before. Apparently, there were

other ways to subdue a man, Audra realized. Ways

that had nothing to do with force.

Pride swelled inside her, along with an intense

hopefulness. This is what it felt like to be beautiful—

to have the appreciation of men and the envy of

women. She inhaled deeply, drinking in the feeling,

bursting to share it with Bradshaw . . . if he’d ever

come out of hiding long enough to let her.

The last man came through the doorway, all slink

and slither, pimp rolling along like he thought he

owned the joint.

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301

“Hey there, mama,” he murmured, batting his

curly black eyelashes at her. “You new here? Be

happy to show you the ropes—”

“Carlton?”

He blinked, hearing his given name come out of

Audra’s mouth.

“Listen, sweet thing, only my mama calls me

that—”

“You were paroled in March, Carlton,” Audra

snapped, ignoring him. “It’s mid-September! What

are you doing back in the joint that fast?” Audra

shook her head. “I tell you what, boy. I’ve got an ass-

whipping with your name on it.”

The kid’s face vacillated between titillation and

confusion.

“Baby, do you know me?” he said in a voice full

of sweetness.

“Yeah, I know you,” Audra muttered. She nodded

to her fellow CO as he brought up the rear and

closed the day room’s doors behind him.

“You been checking me out, huh, pretty lady?”

Carlton muttered, all seduction and zero seriousness.

“That’s all right—but when do I get to know
you
?”

“Not so fast, Casanova. There’s a speed limit in

this state,” Audra said, for a moment forgetting

about the surgery and the changes in her look since

she’d last laid eyes on this kid. She jerked her head

at Carlton, nudging him toward a chair in the corner

of the room. “It’s forty-five miles an hour and you’re

doing ninety. Go sit down over there and—”

He was staring at her like she had suddenly

sprouted horns. Audra watched recognition dawn

in his eyes. A second later he burst into laughter.

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Karyn Langhorne

“Holy shit! Holy shit—” he cried, laughing. “I

don’t believe this shit! You’re—you’re—that butt-

ugly chick—”

“Yeah, I’m the ugly chick.”

His laughing and pointing was attracting atten-

tion in the room. Audra glanced around and

found the noise to have stolen some attention from

the television show some of the men were watching,

along with several checkers games and more than a

few of the quieter conversations around the room.

Only the video rivalry continued without interrup-

tion.

“Damn, girl! What did you
do
!”

“What I did is irrelevant. The point is what did
you

do to—”

“I mean I can understand losing some weight . . .

fixing your hair up a little . . .” He squinted at her,

unsure of how to explain the other changes he was

seeing. He dismissed them anyway by guffawing

and pointing. “But you’ve changed yourself into a

white woman!” He must have felt the eyes of the

room on him, because he shouted out, “Hey y’all,

check this. Remember that fat, ugly chick that used

to work here? One that threw down with Haines

and ripped her pants—”

There were a few nods and murmurs of assent.

“Settle down!” Audra roared over the little swell,

grabbing Carlton’s shoulder. “That’s enough

now—”

“This the
same chick
!” he said jabbing a finger in

Audra’s direction. “Remember how dark she used

to be? Nappy hair, big old tits and big old butt? This

the same—”

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303

“All right, all right,” Audra repeated, feeling in-

creasingly uncomfortable as the men stared at her,

some laughing, others shaking their heads in disbe-

lief. Audra thought she heard, “Like the King of

Pop!” and “That’s messed up!” along with other

less-than-flattering comments.

“Remember when she threw Haines? Threw him

like a rag doll!” Carlton all but cackled. “Broke two

of his ribs—”

Audra’s eyes shot to Haines, who was staring her

down with a venom that couldn’t signal anything

but bad news. She let her eyes stray to the other

COs, but they seemed content to let Audra handle

the ribbing in any way she chose.

“That’s enough!” Audra roared, as the murmurs

reached higher decibels. “Back to your recreation . . .

or all of you will be back in your cells with plenty of

time to think about it—”

“Oh yeah?” In the few months since she’d seen

him last, Carlton had gained a nasty swagger that

didn’t become him in the slightest. “You said you was

gonna kick my ass. Look at you. You couldn’t kick—”

Audra whipped out her baton, grabbed his right

arm behind his back and pressed the baton tight

against his throat. She jerked him to his feet, feeling

the strain in her body at his weight.

“I told you to shut up, and I mean shut up!” she

hissed, dragging him toward the door, thanking

God and Julienne for the dozens of extra repetitions

of upper body exercises she’d been forced to endure.

“And if you can’t shut up then—”

She stumbled against something unseen—

something that felt like someone’s foot and leg. She

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Karyn Langhorne

righted herself quickly, but in the tangled moment

of regaining her equilibrium, Audra lost her grip on

Carlton. A second later, he’d whirled around, duck-

ing free of the baton and facing her with a little

smirk on his face, while she looked around for the

obstruction . . . or the obstructor. Princeton Haines

stood nearby, his eyes locked on hers and his usual

sneer curling his features into ugliness.

The other COs converged on the situation now,

and Carlton was handcuffed in an instant, all the

while loudly complaining that he hadn’t done any-

thing, hadn’t said anything, hadn’t been anywhere

near anything ever in his entire life.

“You want to take him back or—”

“Yeah, I’ll do it,” Audra muttered, feeling a sudden

sense of shame suffusing her skin, praying that her

cheeks weren’t flaming with the emotion, but know-

ing with her paler complexion, it was highly likely

that the entire room was witnessing her discomfiture

at being bested by an inmate, if only for a second. She

pulled her features into her game face and let her eyes

skim the room one last time, taking in every face. The

room was silent now except for the blaring TV and

the crashes and whines of the video games. Most

of the men were staring at her blankly, unwilling to

risk the possibility of being ejected in the same

undignified manner as Carlton. But Princeton

Haines was watching her with a funny little smile

curled on his snide lips . . . and Audra had to talk to

herself to keep from shuddering under its scrutiny.

She called Bradshaw that night, but Penny said he

was “out” and launched into her own conversation,

DIARY OF AN UGLY DUCKLING

305

starting into a long-winded series of questions

about her time in Los Angeles, ending with the re-

quest to bring a few of the girls from school to Au-

dra’s apartment to watch
Ugly Duckling
on the night

of Audra’s Reveal.

Chapter 26

October 4

Dear Petra,

He’s not talking to me.

Okay, he’s talking to me a little. When Penny calls

(which is often, the girl has adopted us!) he’ll come to

the phone for a minute. He answers my questions

“yes” or “no” . . . or he’ll ask me about some movie

that was on the Classic Channel. He called in sick