The guard glanced in at the cell. “We always strip ’em down as far as we can. The gas sticks to clothes and it makes it difficult for us to get ’em out.”
“There’s goin’ to be a mighty rush for tickets when they put a dame in there,” I said.
The guard made a grimace. I guess he wasn’t feeling too good. “Yeah,” he said, “but they’ll keep you bums outta here.”
Vessi was a big guy, with a sullen, heavy face. Considering what was coming to him, I thought he was taking it pretty well. There was a glassy look in his eyes, and he was looking glum, but he wasn’t in a panic.
The chaplain, a short, fat, worried-looking guy, sat on a chair, his head lowered, intoning a prayer. Vessi looked at him every now and then and licked his lips. I could see he wished the chaplain would stop the intoning.
I felt a sudden shiver run through me, as if it had turned cold. But it hadn’t. I was sweating. The warden came down the passage quickly. There was a greenish pallor on his face, and he didn’t look at me.
He just said “Okay” to the guard.
They unlocked the door to the little cell. Vessi’s skin tightened, and he looked beyond the guards at me. I didn’t like meeting that guy’s eye, but I thought maybe I’d better give him a little encouragement. I winked at him. It was a hell of a thing to do, but I just had to tell him I was feeling for him.
The guard tapped him on the shoulder, and he stood up. He was steadier on his feet than I was.
The chaplain droned on. I could guess how Vessi felt about it. I had to hold myself in. Those prayers didn’t seem to be getting us anywhere.