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"Then you'll help me?"
Ernestine grinned. "You jest leave it to old Ernie Littlechap."
The following evening Ernestine handed Tracy three major credit cards in the name of Jane Smith.
"Now we gotta get you some ID," Ernestine informed Tracy "You'll need a couple a credit cards and a driver's license."
The prison grapevine buzzed with the news of Tracy Whitney's impending escape. A breakout was an event that affected all prisoners. The inmates lived vicariously through each attempt, wishing they had the courage to try it themselves. But there were the guards and the dogs and the helicopters,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], and,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], in the end,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych],[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], the bodies of the prisoners who had been brought back.
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"What the hell good would---?" She broke off, a slow grin lighting her face. "While someone pumps him full of sunshine,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], you get into the bottom of the hamper and get covered up with laundry,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]!" She nodded. "You know,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], I think the damned thing might work."
Ernestine was thoughtful for a moment. Then she said softly,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], "Yeah. I'll he'p you. It's my last chance to give Big Bertha a kick in the ass."
"How can I---?"
With Ernestine's help, the escape plan moved ahead swiftly. Ernestine took Tracy's measurements, Lola boosted the material for a dress from the millinery shop, and Paulita had a seamstress in another cell block make it. A pair of prison shoes was stolen from the wardrobe department and dyed to match the dress. A hat, gloves, and purse appeared, as if by magic.
"Next,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], you need a driver's license."