Inconsolable » Squid [Holes]

7: Martha Stewart

The news of a suggestion box being brought into the camp spread like wildfire. Nothing new tended to happen around Camp Green Lake save for new campers coming in or someone being bit by something so the idea that they could have a hand in making the camp better was the talk of the town. The box had shown up outside of Pendanski's office door one day and he announced that it was to help them improve the camp. Mickey wanted to point out that the box would be overflowing with suggestions if they were really going to improve the camp since there were many areas the camp could be improved but she kept her mouth shut.

Eagle was the only one she took the time to talk to, excluding the short conversations she'd have with Caveman. He was the only one in D-Tent that didn't make her feel like she was an outsider. The only time the other boys wanted to talk to her was to ask her dirty questions, ask about her childhood with Squid, or try to goad her into an uncomfortable situation. While it bugged her she did realize that she was safe with them. If one could be safe out in the middle of a desert.

D-Tent seemed to go back to "normal"—if one could call them normal—after they adjusted to knowing that there was a girl in camp with them. The other tents not so much. Hardly a day went by without some sort of sexual comment or wolf-whistle shot her way. How they could still find her attractive when she was pouring with sweat, sunburnt to hell, toted raggedy hair, and smelled like a sweat sock was beyond her. But she was the only girl so they couldn't be choosers.

It was also why it didn't surprise her when she had heard of someone's "suggestion" that she go around pleasing the other tents and letting them "get a piece of the action". It made her stomach twist and want to stab them all with a fork but it didn't surprise her. The beating sun and the buffering sand toughened her skin in more ways than one.

"I wonder how many people around here would actually eat this shit if they knew what it looked like when it came out of the can," Eagle commented, his freckled nose wrinkling as he peered into a can that had a faded label depicting a fruit cocktail wrapped around it.

"Somehow I think this food is better than what it would be if we were actually in jail," Mickey replied, dumping a can of beans into a metal pan. Her digging speeds didn't match those of Zero but overtime she did find herself not in so much pain and getting finished earlier than when she first arrived a little over a week ago. Now she had some time after digging to read or write a letter home before she had to help prepare dinner. And getting up for breakfast wasn't too bad either.

"We can only hope. Some of this is downright disgusting."

"Yeah, well, as long as we don't croak I don't think they care about the quality. And we're doing our best to cover the tastes."

"Yeah, but we're not miracle workers." Eagle grunted. "That's what people should be suggesting. That we get better food. Not pizza delivered. I mean, sure, I'd kill for a pizza as much as the next guy but who's going to deliver all the way out here? The drive is long for one and the tip for the guy would be enormous. No one would want to shell that out. Especially the Warden."

Mickey's lips pursed. Everyone mentioned the Warden but she'd never seen him around. They say he lived in the lone cabin on the lake surrounded by the only two trees in the whole camp. She figured he must be an effeminate or very empathetic guy if he got her sanitary napkins and pain killers. Either way, if she ever got a chance to meet the guy she'd thank him. He couldn't be all bad if he helped her out.

She grabbed another can and carved the top open to dump the contents out; making a face at the green pile of slop that fell out. It was supposed to be spinach but it looked like green soup. It was becoming much more difficult eating around there when she knew what state the food came in. She was already small in her jumpsuit but it was becoming much roomier as the days went on.