. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . P A R O L E . C A L L

The females are required to eat lunch together as part of their recovery and bonding. Today Z asked if I would join them for my half-hour lunch break instead of my usual retreat to my classroom to read the newspaper online. No sooner had we sat down than trays appeared with sandwiches. “Who had the idea to make a BLT on cinnamon toast?” one of the women said, laughing. “It’s marble rye, ” I told them, “a real treat, something you might get in a New York Deli.” Then Z said Grace. The women were giddy over the unusual fare. Z somehow ended up with triple bacon. I also enjoyed some chicken soup and iced tea.

It’s very communal in our cafeteria. A handsome young Latina woman just out of prison with a shaved head got seconds and cut her sandwich in half with a spoon, giving half to her friend. I even gave my hot pepper away to my neighbor. Yet I felt conspicuous eating in front of my students. Z must have sensed that and smiled at me, saying, “You picked a good day to sit with us Ms. P — great sandwiches.”