Page 53 of The Reformatory

Robert was too scared to speak again as they quickened their pace toward the looming dorm ahead. Vines clung across the bricks like they were trying to strangle the building. Boone was waiting with his clipboard at the top of the stairs. Boone had helped hold them down while Haddock beat them worse than horses, and Boone didn’t ask how they were feeling. The waiting lie sped Robert’s heart.

“Montgomery—A.,” Redbone said.

Robert remembered how he should say his name: “Stephens—R.”

As Boone checked off their names, Redbone said casually, “We had a bath already.”

“All right.” Boone didn’t blink or give them a second look, already checking in the older boys who’d run from around the corner and smelled like cigarettes. Robert felt sure Boone would notice, but if he did, he didn’t say anything. Robert couldn’t help smiling a bit. The radio show was already playing, so laughter filled the hallway: Bob Hope, who was so funny he’d even made Mama and Papa laugh.

Redbone slipped into the rec room doorway. “You comin’?” he said. He didn’t seem at all like he’d just threatened to knock out his teeth.

Robert shook his head. “I gotta check on my boots.”

“They prolly gone,” Redbone said with a sad look.

Robert nodded, but he had to know. He’d thought about Papa’s boots a lot while he was in the infirmary: how ungrateful he’d been when they arrived in the box; how he’d been so mad at the boots that he forgot himself and kicked Lyle McCormack. He’d felt powerful in those boots, teaching Lyle never to touch his sister. The boots were Papa’s last gift to him, the last part of him from home.

The locker room was empty. His locker door was the only one standing wide-open. He could see his name he’d written in chalk on the rusted door.

Tears came fast. Tears always came fast when no one was watching. Robert ran to his locker, afraid his tie would be gone too.

But his boots were still there, untouched. No—not untouched. He’d thrown them in as far back as he could, hoping no one would notice them. Now the boots were upright, side by side, their toes at the closest edge of the locker. His tie and clothes hung on hooks.

“Mama?” he whispered.

Inside his boot, he saw a thin napkin wrapped around something warm to his touch. He peeked around the locker door to make sure no one would see, then he opened the napkin: it was corn bread. And sweet like cake, the way Miz Lottie made it. He shoved it in his mouth whole.

“I’m sorry.”

The voice scared Robert so much that he nearly choked. The room wasn’t empty; Blue had been waiting at the end of the lockers, out of sight. Blue’s sad-eyed look reminded Robert of the boy floating above his bed, full of sorrows he didn’t have words for. Robert’s anger tried to swell, but Blue’s eyes melted it down.

“You didn’t mean it,” Robert said, mouth full. “Thanks for the corn bread.”

“Does it hurt real bad?”

“What you think? You don’t know nothin’ about it.” Robert felt bad as soon as he said it: Blue was an orphan. That was worse than the Funhouse.

“That’s what you think,” Blue challenged. “You don’t know nothing about it.”

They sounded like they might be teasing each other, except they weren’t. Blue’s stare felt chilling now. Blue’s eyes spoke of something so final and awful that the corn bread lost its taste. Robert turned away to gather his new pajamas from the hook, purposely hiding from Blue’s eyes on the other side of his open locker door. Why was his heart pounding?

“Go on,” Blue said, voice husky. “Ask me what I know about this place. Ask me.”

No way. The last time Blue had told him a story, Robert had gone to the Funhouse. Either Blue hadn’t learned anything or he was playing a dirty game of chicken. Robert had been glad to eat the corn bread, but he rubbed his lips clean and scoured the floor by his locker for crumbs. A bright yellow crumb stood out, so he bent over and he popped it into his mouth, ignoring the faint bitterness of the floor’s dust.

“Let’s go find Redbone, huh?” Robert said. “Radio’s on.” He spoke loudly in case anyone was searching for wrong to tell Boone about.

But by the time Robert closed his locker door, Blue was already gone.

IV THE COURTHOUSE

15

“Did you talk to her? The law student?” Gloria asked as soon as she was inside the house, but Miss Anne hushed her and gestured hold your horses. Gloria noticed that Fred and Nell were within earshot, and although they all lived in the same house, Miss Anne did not like to share a bit of her life with them if she could help it.

“Soon,” Miss Anne said, and that was all.

Every time the phone rang, Gloria hoped it was Loehmann calling with the news that he’d spoken sense to the judge. Miz Lottie always said to make her prayers specific, and that was what she wanted most: a chance to start the week again. A chance to keep Robbie out of trouble. She wanted Miz Lottie to drive her out to the Reformatory so they could take Robbie home. They’d already driven there once, so the journey there from Route 319 to Marianna Road was so clear in Gloria’s mind that it felt certain as she mapped the route. But although the telephone rang three times that day—much more than usual—Miss Anne never called for her, and she spoke sharply when Gloria reached to pick up the hall phone ahead of her.