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Show page 171 "Yes," said the g i r l . She gave Holder a marriageable look. "You'll be an associate warden someday, Ben, I'm sure, but watch the food." Food problems in the prison messhall had started the r i o t, her mother had told her. Will Griffin had t r i e d to save the warden. Both had been k i l l e d . Whistles blew, everybody ran, and two thousand upturned food trays lay about on the messhall floor. Annie had received the nexvs three hours l a t e r . With her child in her arms she had hurried to the prison, had been admitted to the office area only after a two-hour wait. Holder's feelings, in the early dark of a summer evening, were as heavy as Annie's, who strangely was at the time of the r i o t herself. Annie was very drunk, at her dining table in her darkened parlor. "That night, Will, was to be the f i r s t since before his birth. How could i t , Will, with you already cold? I was feverish for you, wanting you even cold; choking, dying, for want of you, Will. A r o t t e n , stinking, maggoty piece of snapper took you, Will, left me to empty days and n i g h t s . I hunger and fret and moan for you, Will, in t h i s tomb of a house, because a convict didn't like the f i s h ." She heard a noise, stopped talking, rushed to the front door. "Oh, is that Ben coming?" I t wasn't. She returned to the t a b l e , pulling again at the b o t t l e and at the t i g h t collar of her dress. "Ben, help me," she said to the s t i l l n e s s of the room. "Ben, help old Annie. Oh, you're strong, Ben, and your face is young and bro*&i and moist; '^our eyes are soft like my son's were, Ben. |