Page 100 of The Reformatory

Robert knew what kind of man Haddock was. He was itching to share a look with Redbone, and knew Redbone felt the same, but they both stared straight ahead across the field that looked like a grassy version of the Red Sea between their campus and the white side.

Robert had been afraid he might go to hell for setting foot on any church on these grounds, but he would go for sure if Haddock was preaching.

“Silent reflections on God’s blessings as we walk to church,” Crutcher said. “No talking.”

Their walk in the hot morning began, everyone fidgeting and no one speaking. Robert tried, but he couldn’t think of a single blessing to be thankful for—not even Papa and Gloria, who seemed too far away to be real. Thunder rumbled above, a low growl. The sky was graying as dark, bloated clouds floated past the sun, trapping soupy heat below. Robert’s armpits were drenched with sweat after only a few yards.

A colored boy stood alone in the high, empty grasses thirty yards ahead, arms outstretched like a scarecrow. He was dressed like a deacon in a dark suit, white shirt, and tie. His shirt ruffled in the warm breeze but the boy didn’t move, arms frozen akimbo. Robert knew it must be Blue before he was close enough to see his face. Still, the sweat under his shirt turned cold as he and Redbone walked past Blue without stopping or turning their heads. The bell kept ringing, past counting.

“You see him?” Robert whispered. Redbone nodded.

Blue matched their pace, walking beside them—or floating, anyway. Robert looked away from Blue’s bare feet skating across the grass—flying!—because it made him feel like he was Alice falling down an impossible rabbit hole like in Mama’s book.

“Did I look like Jesus?” Blue said. “I bet I did, didn’t I?”

The belly of a gray cloud sparked white. Lightning would strike them all before they made it to the church; Robert was sure of it.

“Don’t be sore,” Blue said. “We can still be friends. You just have to do what I say now.”

Redbone made a snorting sound, and Blue looked hurt. The only sound other than Blue was the tolling bell, which finally came to a rest. It must have rung twenty times.

“Don’t you want Haddock to pay for whupping you?” Blue said. “Get what’s coming?”

“I need another one, like you promised,” Robert mumbled, staring at the ground.

“Oh, you’ll see him,” Blue said. “At the church. He kneels at the altar every Sunday like he can make up for all he’s done. Name’s Robicheaux. He’s more decent now than he was, but better to be sacrificed in a church than in the kitchen. Tell Boone where you see him—but only him. You put anybody else in that jar and I’ll make you sorry, all right.”

“What does he look like?” Robert said, impatient with Blue trying to make him feel bad.

“No talking,” Crutcher called from behind them. The boy behind Robert kicked the back of his heel to shush him.

“You’ll know him,” Blue said while Robert limped through the pain in his foot. “Haddock’s gonna be so happy, he’ll think nothing can touch him. And that’s when you’re gonna use his spare key to find his snapshots in his drawer. And you’re gonna take them. Every single one.”

Robert shook his head. Hell, no. The plan sounded more dangerous all the time.

“Yes you are,” Blue said in a singsong, and when Robert looked up to challenge Blue, Blue was gone. Robert couldn’t guess how long Blue had been nothing except a voice in his ear.

Robert had never visited a finer church, identical to the church on the white side of the campus. The white paint looked fresh from the top of the steeple to the wide double doors. The shiny golden cross above the doors was as tall as a tree. Miz Lottie’s church was filled with memories and people who loved him, but those pews were shabbier; it had only a handful of worn Bibles and hymnal books, and no stained glass rinsed color into the gray morning light.

This sanctuary had carpeting and these pews had thin cushions instead of bare wood. The church’s prettiness was startling.

Inside the church, the organ set high beside the pulpit was fitted with large pipes to make it louder as Mrs. Hamilton, dressed all in white, played “Amazing Grace,” Mama’s favorite hymn. Robert hoped the haint Blue wanted him to catch wouldn’t go near the massive pipes because he doubted Mama could resist them. Mama was probably wrapped inside the brass, making the powerful music swell. Mama had said most people didn’t know “Amazing Grace” had been written by a slave ship captain who saw the error of his ways. Anyone can change with help from God, she’d said.

The first rows of pews were filled with a dozen colored employees in their Sunday best with their families, including babies. That was a surprise. After Crutcher led the boys to their rows, he joined a round-faced woman holding a young girl’s hand and kissed her on the cheek.

Even Boone was dressed for church in a tight-fitting suit with straining buttons, although he had no family with him. Robert was sitting at the edge of his pew across the aisle, so Boone tipped an imaginary hat to let Robert know he was watching. And tapped the leather pouch hidden just under his suit coat.

Robert only mouthed the words to the hymn while the others sang. He looked up and down for the haint Blue had promised him, but the only people kneeling at the altar were two colored boys in tatters giggling while they took turns blowing on the nearest candle to make the flame dance. Even Redbone didn’t see the boys—only Robert. Was he supposed to point out one of these boys to Boone? If so, which one? Maybe even Blue didn’t know they were there.

“Please remain standing,” an officious colored woman said at the shiny wooden pulpit, “as we prepare for a special address from Superintendent Fenton J. Haddock.”

Warden Haddock appeared from where he had been sitting just out of sight, wearing a preacher’s crimson robe embroidered with a yellow cross. His robe was far too short for his long legs, barely reaching his knees. Robert noticed rumbling thunder above again, closer than it had been. Warden Haddock’s boots boomed across the wooden planks, then he clasped the woman’s hand with a smile and took his place at the pulpit. Mrs. Hamilton’s organ went silent.

“Good morning, Gracetown School for Boys family,” Warden Haddock said.

“Good morning, Superintendent,” the church said in unison, although Robert called him Warden instead of by his proper title like the rest. That was what he was, wasn’t it?

“Today we greet the promise of not only a new week, but a new era,” Warden Haddock said. “An era of trust and growth. An era when we can truly leave the darkness of the past in the grave where it belongs and walk together to a better future.” His eyes came to Robert’s and stared, and Robert’s fingers tightened on the smooth wood of the pew in front of him. His knees trembled with relief when Warden Haddock looked away from him. “No more whispers. No more questions from Tallahassee. Only all of us, hand in hand, making the Gracetown School for Boys the marvel it deserves to be in this great state and nation.”