Women, she was learning, were very different creatures.
Elizabeth followed the line of women up to the kitchen window, where the workers handed each of them a plate of slop. The plate, she noticed, was getting heavier each time, just as the walk from the ward to the dining hall had gotten longer each time. Slowly, deliberately, she put one foot in front of the other and took her turn, but unlike the other women, she didn’t dump her dinner into the garbage can. Instead she carried it over to the table where the colored prisoners sat and set it down in front of the woman who had given her the information about Lucy Burns. The wormy mess was poor payment, indeed, but the regular prisoners were grateful for it.
Then Elizabeth picked up a cup of water, as she had been instructed, and carried it to a table.
“No talking,” the guard said, even though no one had said a word.
Mrs. Bates sat down beside her. The older woman’s cheeks were sunken, and dark circles rimmed her eyes. How much longer until she collapsed and had to be carried away? How Elizabeth would miss her wisdom. Impulsively, she reached out and laid a hand on her arm.
Mrs. Bates looked up and smiled. “Drink your water. That’s very important.”
“No talking!” the guard shouted.
Elizabeth drank her water.
After what seemed an age, the regular prisoners had finished their meals and started getting up to leave.
“You suffs, stay where you are.” Elizabeth looked up in surprise to see the matron glaring at them.
How odd. Mrs. Herndon never came into the dining hall.
When the regular prisoners had gone, Herndon said, “Listen up. This is Mr. Ingalls.” She nodded to a well-dressed man who lurked in the doorway as if afraid to venture any farther into the room. Maybe he thought this ragtag bunch of starving women would attack him. The thought made Elizabeth smile. “He’s an attorney for the president of the United States. He wants to talk to each one of you, so you’ll take your turn. Sit here until we call you.”
“The president!” someone whispered.
“They’re getting serious,” Mrs. Bates said.
“Quiet!” Herndon said, hushing the buzz of conversation.
One by one the women were summoned. At last, Elizabeth made her way out and down the hallway to an office, where the attorney sat at a table. Elizabeth took the chair opposite him, glad for a chance to rest and catch her breath.
“I’m pleased to meet you, Miss Miles,” he said, although he didn’t look pleased at all.
Elizabeth waited.
“You look like an intelligent young lady.”
“I’m in jail, Mr. . . . What was your name again?”
“Ingalls.”
“I’m in jail, Mr. Ingalls. How smart is that?”
“You don’t fool me, Miss Miles. I know you suffragettes are quite clever.”
“Suffragists.”
“What?”
“We like to be called suffragists. The word ‘suffragette’ is demeaning.”
He stared at her for a long moment. “I see.”
“Do you?”
“Well, perhaps I should just tell you why I wanted to meet with you.”
Elizabeth waited again. She figured he didn’t need any encouragement.
He gave a little cough. “You see, as Mrs. Herndon said, I’m an attorney. Not for the president, exactly, but for the administration. President Wilson asked me to come and assure you ladies that he has no intention of keeping you locked up here for three months. In fact, he plans to see that you’re released in a week. Just one week.”
He paused, probably to let this wonderful news sink in. Elizabeth wished she wasn’t so weak. She should be able to figure out what he was up to, but her brain just didn’t want to make the effort. “Herndon could have told us that.”
“Yes, yes, she could, but you see, the president wanted you to hear it from an official source because, well, because some people are working to serve the warden with a writ of habeas corpus, and we wanted you to know you should refuse the writ. There’s no need for you to go to court and involve a judge in this matter.”
What was this writ he was talking about? Mrs. Bates had mentioned it, she was sure, but she couldn’t pull up the right memory just now. She didn’t really need to know, though, did she? Oh no. She knew just what Mrs. Bates would tell her to say, Mrs. Bates who had a family full of lawyers. “I think I’d like to see my own attorney before I make a decision about that, Mr. Igloo.”
“Ingalls,” he said. “But there’s no need for that. You have my word that you’re going to be released in a week, so there’s also no need for a hunger strike. Why should you ladies make yourselves ill for no purpose? I assure you, President Wilson is determined to give you your freedom.”
“Then why not just release us right now? Why wait a week?”
“It’s a legal matter,” he lied. She could tell by the way he blinked, glad to discover she wasn’t completely addled. “Some paperwork needs to be prepared. But it’s just a week, and then you’ll be allowed to go home to Wisconsin.”
“South Dakota.” She remembered that, at least. She was supposed to be from South Dakota.
“Yes, that’s such a long trip, and you’ll want to be well and strong when you’re released, won’t you?”
If she’d had the energy, Elizabeth would have slapped herself on the head for being stupid. Of course! They were going to wait a week in hopes the women would end their hunger strike and be recovered. How embarrassing to release a bunch of women who had to be carried out on stretchers. “I’d still like to speak to my attorney before I decide. I’m afraid I just don’t understand all these legal things.”
She smiled and batted her eyes in a parody of innocence.
Ingalls frowned. “I hope you will reconsider, Miss Miles. It’s for your own good, you know.”
How many times had men said that to women when it wasn’t for their own good at all?
“May I go now, Mr. Ingledew?”
“Ingalls. Yes, yes, you may go.”
Elizabeth took her time. No sense wasting energy rushing. It was just like Mrs. Bates had said. They couldn’t force-feed forty women, and they couldn’t allow them to starve to death, so they had to let them go. Still, they didn’t want to release sick women and let the public get a look at them. Oh no. So they were trying to trick them into ending the hunger strike.
Good luck, Elizabeth thought as she made her way to the recreation room to tell Mrs. Bates what she’d figured out.