Quiet women intimidating
(You can read the full article here, if interested.) That got me thinking a lot about where all the virulence between the sexes in the West has come from recently. But as I thought about it, I realized there was something else causing conflict between men and women, too: a product of a mix of the modern unisex workplace and social environment, and the Western ideal of independence, but not at all what any of the women (or men) struggling for women's rights ever expected - that "equality," at least as most people have fought for it for Western women, has really ended up meaning that women are now required not only to fight with other women for what they want, but to fight with men now too - and that men are required to fight them back.
You don't see it a lot of other places in the world... Chase woke up one day in 2004 tired of being alone.
I was writing about women's issues, especially poor women, women who walk the streets, and so forth. I found out a lot of the women in my neighborhood were being pimped by a cop. He had been roughing up some of his girls too, and there was nothing they could do. We didn't have any real weapons, just some sticks and lead pipes and only planned to scare him a little, you know? But things sort of got out of hand." "What, bad aim? By the time he hit the street he was basically beef stew.
Just wanted to maybe break a kneecap or something to get him to back off. A really tall building downtown, and he sort of fell off.
And every so often for a lesser infraction, some poor bitch had to scrub down the mess hall. Since Krieger did a lot of punishing, we were a real clean prison. Unfortunately, we forgot about the Kid, who of course didn't know the rules yet or the danger, and had stood there sort of stupefied the whole time. In front of her, naked and very small, the Kid looked up at Krieger like a deer caught in headlights, her hair dripping water onto her chest. Still with that cruel little smile on her face, Krieger turned and walked away. All the others will just be fighting for the fun of it and never have to know anything. That and a few oil soaked rags should make the place look like the entrance to hell. In the mean time, at the regular weekly briefing, I will remind the guards that they should not discharge their firearms except in life threatening situations.
* * * * * Then one day, a couple of months ago, it all changed. After a few minutes I remembered and I went back for her. Krieger's eyes moved down slowly, watching that water trickle between the Kid's breasts down her trim little belly into a curly gold triangle. - 3- The next day Julie and Carmen were absent from dinner. You just tell us when and we'll do our best to stage a nice noisy, smoky little riot. As long as you don't try to kill someone, you should only have Laska's little blades to worry about. "I'll wear my best prison denims." The rest of us went back and pretended to spar while the Kid and Krieger walked together to the door.
The perfectly creased pants covered that tight butt and those long muscley legs like they were painted on, and we all wished we were the painter. We knew that because one or another of us had to shine them every day. She scanned the room with those eyes like blue laser beams. She looked down the back of the Kid's neck and her eyes sort of half closed. Gave her a sense of power, even though she was the one on her knees.
It was always the same question hanging in the air: who will it be tonight? We waited for the usual, the moans, the threats, the sounds of a beating. Then the guard station door opened and I heard Krieger take the Kid across to the other side of the cell block to the cell next to the storage room. It was lit by a single overhead bulb and had been used for hard corporal punishment, back when it was still legal. Even after the laws changed, the warden kept it as a sort of threat. Since the Kid didn't know I was watching her and Krieger, I couldn't exactly tell her I knew she was going to bust out. Krieger definitely knew we were on the Kid's side, and she looked the other way when brooms and mops started showing up in every corner of the cell block. Losa turned out to have an instinctive ability to lead in a fight. "Losa's really gotten us into shape with the fighting staffs. We had staged it like a play, and if it turned out more like a circus it was because we knew were going to be News and we got a little caught up in the spectacle. Act One: The Kid went out with Ephie to sweep the cigarette butts and other crud off the steps in the north end of the yard. Ten long minutes passed and we started biting our nails. Thus we proceeded to: Act Two: the Kid looked up, fear on her face -- some of probably genuine -, and she stalled the two them for awhile so that Pony and Chucker could get within spear range.
The junior guards looked the other way as she did her usual slow march down the rows. When Krieger came in as Guard Captain, she added a new function, sex violence and no one ever asked questions. I had taken a shine to the Kid and she deserved better. But everyone knew that there was going to be a war with G. She sat down with the Kid and they worked out when and where to train and how to stage the big battle. We have about twelve women who can use them, and a lot of other women who will just join in because they hate the G. On cue, they began to argue and Ephie stomped off with her broom calling the Kid "a frigid little pissant" (pissant? The Kid yelled back something like "filthy sodomite" (sodomite? This was the weakest part of the plan, because we had to depend on the G. Then two more thugs appeared on the periphery at the same time as Losa and I did.