chapter 30 j. fletcher , convict on a road gang somewhere in the god-awful usa miss jacky faber also somewhere in this god-awful usa but no doubt in a state higher than my current one jacky , we shuffle out of the pittsburgh prison at dawn , clad in our prison stripes , left legs shackled by the ankles to a long chain , after having been fed a ration of oatmeal , molasses , and weak coffee , made from some plant that grows wild here and is n't even remotely related to a coffee tree .