Bio - 31 in My Bio

It was New Year’s Day when Palma moved me to M Dorm and into Mary’s cell. After I told Mary that I liked Palma, we debated whether Palma was straight or could possibly be bi. Then Mary told me she was curious, had balls of brass, and was going to tell Palma I liked her. I thought she was joking, but I was wrong!

I happened to be sitting on my bunk and had just turned on my radio when Palma came by, and Mary informed her that I had a crush on her. I had the radio on at that instant, so by the time I turned it off, all I heard was Palma saying, “Don’t tell me that shit. I don’t want to know.”

I thought to myself, great! Just great! The woman hates gays, and now the door’s going to open, and I’m going to get maced!

As I pretended to play dumb, bouncing around to the imaginary beat on my radio, I then heard her say in a cheerful tone, “And you ladies have a good night.”

I never saw her the whole time (I wouldn’t dare look her way).

“She’s quite flattered,” Mary said next.

“But she couldn’t be if she said she didn’t want to know or be told, and there goes the tank I asked her for, too,” I said dubiously.

I was surprised she even bothered to tell us to have a good night, but that’s the part I didn’t see. Mary thought her initial reaction was one of shock or maybe even embarrassment because, after a brief pause, Mary said a warm smile broke out across her face and she walked away with a cheerful bounce. Not even ten minutes later, I received not one, but three medical tanks as her shift was ending.

I could see how the news might have caught her off guard. I can just imagine her doing her rounds, hearing the usual things like, “What time is it?” “Can you bring me a tank order on your next walk?” “Don’t forget the nail clippers!” Then: “Jodi has a crush on you.”

Palma only worked three more times in M Dorm while I was there. The next time she was on, I slipped a sheet of jokes under the door like I said I would since she liked it when I’d tell her jokes. “Thank you, ma’am,” she said with an amused smile (pretty happy and smiley for someone whose initial reaction to my crush wasn’t so thrilling).

Then Palma shocked the hell out of us by announcing to the whole pod that she was going to do a search. Palma never gave any warning when she was about to toss us! Mary thought I had something to do with that, but either way, she and I put the extra panties we weren’t supposed to have on over the ones we were wearing, and I stuffed my extra towel in the seat of my pants and sat on it. Fortunately, when she got to our cell, she did a very half-assed search, never even asking us to get off our bunks or step out of the cell.

At one point, I showed her a picture I’d taken of a snake, telling her how it waltzed onto our land one day—a 10-acre ranch in Maricopa—and Palma wanted to know who else owned it. When I told her my husband and I owned it, she said she didn’t know I was married. This is when Mary said she noticed a change in Palma’s expression, which she thought was one of disappointment (something I couldn’t see from my vantage point). We were both sitting on our bunks at the time, and since she was checking Mary’s bunk at that moment, I could only see her from the waist down.

The second to last time she worked, I was with Ida, who noticed a difference in how she treated me which was better than others were treated.

I was with Tiffany the last time she worked while I was there. I had 25 more days to go at that point. This was when she took me down into the dayroom to chat for a good 15 minutes or so. Other inmates stood in their doors watching. I wouldn’t dare look at them because I knew I’d burst out laughing if I did.

The next day, Mary, Myra, and Peaches teased me good-heartedly, commenting on how Palma really put the digs on me.

I don’t have as much to say about Pérez, a stout Puerto Rican of 44, because she was a third-shift DO who rarely worked M Dorm. I always knew she was gay just by her appearance and mannerisms. I also knew that she liked me, and I liked her, though not in the same way as with Palma. I wasn’t attracted to Pérez, but I thought she was a wonderful person. She really helped me a lot. She’d chat with me whenever she worked and was very supportive and encouraging. I was surprised by just how much personal info she shared with me, too.

Pérez had a deaf brother, and each time she worked, I’d teach her a few signs. I don’t know why she waited until then to decide to learn it, but she enjoyed learning what little I taught her.

If there was ever a ray of sunshine in that jail, it was my then-sweet Teddy Bear, Officer Johnson. Whenever she was on, I knew I would be okay. I knew that she would look out for me and always have my best interests at heart.

I didn’t see much of her until the last half of my sentence. The more I saw her, the less I thought of Palma. Johnson was known to work M Dorm as often as Palma was known to work A Tower, but there was a gap in the middle of my sentence, for some reason, where she was rotating around the jail. She’d be in other dorms, the control station, Medical, doing escort, etc.

Nonetheless, by November, I knew there was something about the vibrant, red-headed officer so full of life and energy that tugged at my heart. By January, I knew I really liked her a lot, and by April, I knew I was in love with her—not just in lust, but in true, honest-to-God love. I tried to tell myself it wasn’t possible since I barely knew much about her, other than that she also liked mice for pets, as well as birds, and was originally from California, though she had also lived in Georgia. But I knew how I felt, and there was no denying it.

It was also startling how life was imitating art, in a sense, though I hadn’t written much of that story about the girl framed for whatever, who fell for a guard who liked her back. I’d always had this thing about women in uniform, yet to think my fantasy had become a reality was totally mind-boggling! If someone had told me I’d like a DO who liked me back, I’d never have believed it in a million years. Maybe she wouldn’t have believed it, either. I guess we really do meet people we like when we least expect, in the places we least expect.

The more I chatted with Teddy Bear and the more things I discovered we had in common, the more comfortable I felt around her. She seemed different from me in some ways, yet at the same time, we seemed to have common ground. Although most people prefer those who are carbon copies of themselves, I always liked a good mixture. I was glad we weren’t too different or too alike.

Teddy Bear was extremely intelligent and so much fun to be around that I didn’t care that she had a face full of acne. Nor did I care how big she was. I loved all five feet, ten inches, and 200 pounds of her. She had light brown eyes and red hair which fell slightly below her shoulders. I had never been attracted to a redhead before, she she was a first for me.

Big-boned, broad-shouldered, narrow-hipped, and muscular, Teddy Bear wasn’t exactly Miss Feminine of the Year. That was another thing that had changed for me. For someone who once preferred feminine women, I found myself drawn to her more masculine look, though within limits. I couldn’t imagine her in a dress, but she still had a distinctly female appearance despite her masculine presence and clunky walk. Her voice, with its slight southern drawl, didn’t sound butchy at all.

When I asked her how she thought I’d look if I dyed my hair red, she said she didn’t think it would suit me.

“But I have a lot of gray coming in,” I said.

“That’s what I’ve always thought was so attractive about you. It really brightens things up, and you’ve got the perfect coloring for that salt-and-pepper look.”

Hearing this was so flattering. Not many women, I supposed, get complimented on their gray hairs, even if I didn’t have many yet back then.

I decided I’d wait until I saw her on the outside to tell her she had nice buns, and seeing each other outside of jail was part of the plan, or so I thought at the time.

When she helped me move out of the big cell and into the little one, before crazy Melinda came to join me, she impressed me with her strength. The mattresses were heavy, and I was struggling to toss the extra one onto the top bunk, but she hurled it up like it weighed nothing.

“That’s a good-looking guy you’ve got there,” she said, referring to a picture of Tom with Ratsy on his shoulder as she was leaving.

“Yes, it is,” I replied.

And you’re not so bad yourself, I thought.

Her saying this, combined with the fact she wore a diamond ring, threw me off at first. I knew the ring could mean anything—it could be from a woman or a family heirloom—but it still made me wonder sometimes what was really going on with her.

That night, on her final walk, I was sitting at the desk writing when I suddenly felt someone watching me. I turned to the door and saw her staring through the window at me. When she realized I’d noticed, she quickly moved on, though I didn’t think much of it at the time.

Before that, I’d only seen her a couple of times that I remember, and she wasn’t happy with me either. The first time, I was in a small cell with Kim and asked her to send me to Medical for a new inhaler because my lungs were tight. I knew the longer you went without an inhaler, the worse your asthma could get.

“You’re just having an anxiety attack,” she said dismissively and walked away as if she didn’t care.

“Oh, is that what you think this is?” I yelled after her, then cussed her out. If she heard me, she didn’t show it.

Another time, Officer Miller let the last cell on its hour stay out for two hours. Lora, Madoline, and Deanna—my cellies at the time—were furious. They filed a grievance, and I regret letting them talk me into going along with it. I didn’t care much, and I knew it was pointless to complain about a DO, but all four of us filed grievances. Teddy Bear, who had to sign off on them, wasn’t happy. She didn’t say anything, but you could tell by her walk and the way she yanked the grievances from the door that she was pissed.

“You’re going to miss me when I’m gone,” I told her a few months into my sentence.

“Yeah, you’re the kind that keeps me on my toes,” she said.

The thought of never seeing her again saddened me. I thought about the jokes we shared and the things we had in common, like our knowledge of Spanish. She even knew some German.

She’d tell me about her new cockatiel, and I’d tell her about the rats. We never ran out of things to talk about. Teddy Bear, who worked second shift, made the time fly by. The end of her shift always brought mixed emotions. I was glad to be one day closer to release, but I hated seeing my Teddy Bear leave.

A little over four months into my sentence, she told me there was a huge article about me on the front page of the Arizona Republic. Words can’t describe the embarrassment and humiliation I felt, especially having to learn about it from someone I had a crush on. For her to read about things that never happened, since I knew the media never told the truth—and neither did the so-called “victims”—infuriated me. I didn’t care what strangers thought of the article, and I knew those who truly knew me could separate fact from fiction, but Teddy Bear wasn’t a stranger, and she didn’t know me well either.

Though she wouldn’t get into much detail about the article, she tried to console me by saying they wrote good things about me.

Oh, really? I thought. They don’t even know me! They’ve never met me! How could they write anything good or bad without actually knowing me?

She let me call Tom, and as always, he calmed and reassured me. But I had to wonder: if they hadn’t forgotten about me yet, would they ever? And what was next? A made-for-TV movie? It stunned me that so much was being made out of so little. Don’t take it personally, they’d say—it’s just how things work here. But I did take it personally. It was my life they were trampling on.

I had pissed Teddy Bear off by ganging up on a fellow officer, and that night was her turn to piss me off in return. Toward the end of the night, Silvia, who had gone out to make a call, informed me that Charlotte had gone home and that the small cell downstairs was empty. After the nurse and commissary came and went, I asked if I could roll down to that room, and I was surprised by how sharply she snapped at me.

“You can’t have that room! You’re staying here!” she barked, then slammed the door in my face.

Who pissed in your coffee this morning, bitch? I thought.

That night, I decided I would hate her forever. She had been rude, and I didn’t deserve to be the one she took her frustrations out on just because her night had been hectic.

But that was easier said than done. Teddy Bear was just too cool to snub, and after all, no one’s perfect. I figured I’d just yell back if she yelled at me again, knowing I could never stay mad at her for long.

I still managed to get into the cell Charlotte had been in, though. I just had to wait until the next day, and it was Espi who moved me. I was surprised since she usually didn’t do moves.

The next time Teddy Bear worked M Dorm was after Teresa had come to join me. By this point, Teddy Bear and I had started playing a little guessing game. She’d guess how many days I had left, which was about 50 at the time, and she’d always guess wrong on purpose, just to make me laugh.

After several walks where she’d stop to chat with me about various things, Teresa said, “I didn’t know you guys were friends on the outside.”

“We’re not,” I replied.

“Maybe she likes you.”

“Johnson? Nah, she’s friendly with everyone.”

But then I started thinking about it—the time she stared at me, the way she’d sometimes smile out of context, our talks, and the laughs we shared.

Then, the key turned in the lock and the door opened. It was Teddy Bear again. This time she was telling me about a giant rat she’d seen on the news. After answering some questions for Teresa, she turned to me as she was about to back out of the room and said, “Okay, babe.” Then, quickly correcting herself, she added, “Ladies,” with a nod as if to cover the slip-up.

The door closed, and I glanced at Teresa.

The expression on her face clearly said, “Told you so.”

The thought of Teddy Bear possibly liking me wasn’t just surprising—it was incredibly flattering.

Officer Johnson, you can call me “babe” anytime. Anytime!

The next time Teddy Bear worked, I was alone. I was determined to find out if she really did like me or not. I was genuinely curious.

“Get flirting, girl!” I told myself.

First, I told her a gay joke, making sure to let her know I had nothing against gays since I liked women myself.

Later, I took my shirt off, clipped my little radio to my sports bra, and started jogging. Inmates often hung out in their cells without their shirts, but I wanted to see if Teddy Bear would react.

She did—but it wasn’t what I expected. When she saw me, she blushed and looked away. I figured she was uncomfortable, so I told myself to back off. I didn’t want to chase someone who might not actually be interested. I respected her too much, and making her uncomfortable was the last thing I wanted.

“Sorry about that,” I told her, teasing her a bit for blushing as red as her hair. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” she said. “I’ve seen people in their underwear before.”

That same night, she moved me to my favorite cell. It would be my last move.

The next day, I realized she had kicked someone out of M Dorm just so I could stay alone. A smelly new arrival needed a lower bunk on the lower tier due to a bad leg, so Teddy Bear threw me up in the cell Silvia had been in and sent the new girl to A Tower.

From then on, Teddy Bear worked M Dorm more frequently. Since I was alone and she didn’t have to work with another officer in the small dorm, it gave us more time to talk.

I started writing little “kites” to Teddy Bear. In jailhouse lingo, kites are notes you fold up and slip under doors. I left mine in the trap for her. By this point, we both knew we liked each other—there were no more doubts.

One time, I told her how Ida and I would try to guess the officers’ names based on their initials. I shared that our guesses for her were Rebecca, Ronda, Renee, and Rachel. She seemed impressed, suggesting we might have guessed correctly with one of those names. I cracked up when I told her that Ida thought she might be a Rhoda, but I disagreed, saying Rhodas are usually super ugly, so Ida suggested Ronda instead. Teddy Bear laughed and said, “Hey, there you go. She’s only a little ugly. Call her Ronda.”

She asked me what names we came up with for the other officers, and I shared them with her. I mentioned that we thought Officer Smith might be an Amanda. Using a low, sarcastic voice I’d never heard her use before—a voice that was surprisingly sexy—she said, “Some people say she’s Barbie.”

“I like ‘Pancake Face Smith’ better,” I whispered. “But that’s our secret.”

“Okay,” she said playfully. “Just between you and me.”

“This other girl and I were talking about how you remind us of a big, warm teddy bear,” I told her.

“I’d rather be called Teddy Bear than some of those other names you’ve been coming up with for me.”

I couldn’t resist pulling my “I’m Linda Ronstadt’s daughter” routine on her, and she totally fell for it. Usually, I’d let someone believe it indefinitely, but I couldn’t lie to her.

I asked if she noticed the resemblance before I spilled the beans, and she said, “There’s a big resemblance. You’ve got her hair.”

After I admitted I was kidding, I mentioned that people have said we look alike, even in the eyes, despite hers being brown and mine being green.

“You do have her eyes,” she said. “That’s what was always so pretty about her.”

When someone tells you that you look like someone they think is pretty, they’re telling you that you’re pretty too. I took it as a huge compliment, especially coming from Teddy Bear. If Pancake Face Smith had said it, I wouldn’t have cared. But from Teddy Bear? It meant everything.

When thoughts of the people who had wronged me consumed me, and I found myself seething with rage, I’d think of my Teddy Bear, as I started to call her, and remember that something good did come out of all the shit I went through. I also had a man waiting for me on the outside who loved me very much.

“I think I know your middle name,” I told her during one of our walks.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Diane.”

“Wrong.”

“Denise? Debbie? Daisy? Dawn?”

“Oh, thank you, thank you,” she said. “Dawn is a pretty one.”

When I asked her what she’d guess my name to be if she didn’t already know it, she said she’d have to think about it. A walk or two later, she told me she’d guess my name to be either Dawn or April. And that’s how I became “Dawn.”

One time she was telling me about her bird, and I jokingly asked if she was going to get any mice for it.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll get some from you,” she said.

I blinked in surprise. Was she hinting at us getting together?

The thought of us possibly getting together thrilled me, and at the time, I had no reason to think she was just talking. She seemed to genuinely like me and didn’t mind my flaws. I never got the impression she expected me to be some perfect, inhuman person without faults, nor did I think she was toying with me.

But we would have to wait, she told me. She said the officers had a policy about not getting involved with inmates for at least one year after their release, figuring that by then, both would have moved on. Though the rule sounded a bit odd to me, I figured it was just her being a dedicated professional. I couldn’t see why she’d want to wait if she really liked me as much as I liked her. After all, no one needed to know.

When I mentioned that I wouldn’t be around much longer since my release date was approaching, she briefly looked away with a slight sadness in her eyes before turning back to me and saying, “That’ll be boring.”

“If I didn’t know I was going to see you again, I’d be bawling my eyes out.”

“Aww,” she said.

Looking back, it’s probably a good thing I didn’t know the truth at that point. If I had, I’d have been bawling my eyes out a year sooner than I eventually did. In the meantime, I waited every day, fingers crossed with hope, for the change of shift. And each time I saw her on duty, I’d squeal with excitement.

I kept Tom updated on our chats and even had him send in pictures to give to her—some of the animals, some of me. One picture was of me floating in the pool with a superimposed rat on top of me that I’d created with Photoshop. We even talked about taking pictures of her and her bird and adding all kinds of funny effects.

One of my funniest memories of her was the “dead friends” misunderstanding. In one of my notes to her, I said she could meet my other friends besides my furry ones, though they weren’t alive.

On her next walk, she came into my cell looking confused and said, “Okay, so these dead friends of yours—?”

“No, no!” I cut her off, laughing. “Just because they’re not alive doesn’t mean they’re dead.” Then I pulled out a sheet of paper and showed it to her.

“Oh, you’re talking about dolls!” she exclaimed. Then we both laughed harder than ever for a good solid minute.

Another time, I mentioned in a note that Dan’s place, the lot diagonally across from ours, was for sale. A year after we moved in, it had been put on the market. When I told her about the single-wide trailer he had and the rentals in the back, she asked if there was space for horses.

“One per acre,” I replied.

“Can you see the mountains from there?”

“Big time,” I said, explaining more about the area before drawing her a map at her request. I was surprised she might be interested in moving, even though it would be a hell of a drive to and from the jail. I don’t know if she ever checked the place out, though. I had less than a week left in my sentence when I gave her the map, and I knew she was busy. As it turned out, Dan’s single-wide was moved to the other side of the property a few months after I got home, and a small double-wide took its place—but not by Teddy Bear. Instead, a couple moved in who sometimes blasted their music, though not loudly enough for us to hear inside our house.

Six months later, another rental was added out back, and it too, was rented by a couple. Both couples were white, which surprised me since the area was predominantly Mexican.

The second-to-last time Teddy Bear worked near where I was housed was a Sunday night, a week before my release. She said she’d be back on Monday or Thursday, but I didn’t see her on either of those days. I just knew she’d come back one last time before I left—and she did, on Friday. She told me she’d tried to get in the day before but couldn’t. A few other officers requested to be there during my final week, though certainly not for the same reasons as Teddy Bear.

That last time, I noticed the diamond ring she used to wear was gone.

Although I knew I’d fallen for Teddy Bear, it didn’t take away from my love for Tom. I’d have fallen for her with or without Tom in the picture, no matter how much I loved him. Though I had no desire to leave Tom, I realized I missed being with a woman at times. Not even the gentlest of men could replace the soft, warm touch of a woman.