Alabama Moon (8 page)

Mr. Carter smiled and nodded. “Gov'ment haters. That's right. All those gov'ment haters up there.”

“That's what he said.”

“How you gonna get to Alaska?”

“Walk, I guess.”

Mr. Carter laughed. “You ain't off to such a good start.”

“Soon as I get out of here I will be.”

Mr. Carter smiled and shook his head. “You don't get it, do you? They ain't gonna let you out of here unless somebody comes for you.”

“I figure I won't have much of a problem bustin' out once I get to feelin' better again.”

Mr. Carter's face grew serious. He pulled his hands from his pockets and took a step towards me. “Listen, no more foolin' around. Don't you be talkin' like that anymore. You're gonna get yourself in a heap more trouble'n you're already in.”

“All right,” I said.

“All right what?”

“I won't talk about it anymore.”

 

The rest of the boys came crowding into the room just after Mr. Carter left. I lay quietly on my bunk and watched them file through the play yard door and spread out towards their own beds. One of them happened to glance up and see me. He stopped and his eyes grew wide. “Hey!” he yelled. “It's the cave boy!”

The rest of the boys heard him and they all looked at me. I lay there and didn't move.

“It
is
him!” someone else yelled. “The kid they talked about on TV!”

“It's the wild boy!”

I watched as everyone gathered around me. I paid the most attention to the tallest boy, who seemed to be moving through the others to get closer. In a moment, he was standing before me, staring at my face poking from the blankets. “You that wild kid?”

“I don't know,” I said.

“You the one got arrested yesterday?”

“Yeah.”

He turned to the others and then to me again. “You don't look so tough.”

I sized him up. He was about twice my weight and height. “I can whip
you
,” I said.

His face went red. He reached out to grab me, but I was ready for him. I swung my arm from under the blanket and hit him open-handed across the face. At the same time, I leaped up and stood on my bunk. The boys cheered and began gathering closer. The big kid recovered and grabbed for my feet. I danced around the top of the bed and avoided his hands for a few seconds, but he finally got me and I fell onto the mattress. He dragged me towards him. I took my free foot and slammed it against the other, knocking his fingers between the knobs of my ankles. He yelled and let go. About that time, I heard something smack against the hall door, and the crowd grew silent. I rolled onto my back and propped myself on my elbows and looked in the direction of the sound. Mr. Carter stood there holding a club.

“Everybody to their bunks. Now! You'll stand there until suppertime if I hear another word.”

Everyone began to find their beds. The boy who'd come after me was three bunks towards the door on the bottom. He turned and gave me a mean stare.

“Hal Mitchell,” Mr. Carter said. “I want you in the center of the floor.”

Hal moaned and stepped to the middle of the room and faced Mr. Carter with his jaw set tight. It looked like somebody had painted a red hand on his cheek.

“What happened?”

“The little runt popped me across the face.”

“Who?”

Hal rolled his eyes at the ceiling. “The cave boy.”

“His name's Moon.”

“Whatever.”

Mr. Carter walked towards Hal. “Why'd he slap you?”

Hal raised one shoulder like he didn't care. “I don't know.”

Mr. Carter towered over him. “I don't imagine you were provokin' him?”

Hal shrugged.

“You sleep outside tonight. No supper.”

Hal set his jaw tightly and stared at Mr. Carter. “What?”

Mr. Carter didn't change his expression, but pointed to the door leading into the play yard. “Outside.”

“Are you serious!”

“Now.”

“You can't do that!”

“Says who?”

“Says . . . Well, you just can't.”

“Now!” Mr. Carter's voice boomed and I thought I saw Hal jump a little beneath his uniform. Hal began to walk towards his bed.

“Where you goin'?”

“Get my blanket and pillow. It's cold out there.”

“Next time you ask me first, you hear?”

I saw Hal's face go red. “I might.”

The room was silent. Hal reached out for his pillow, but Mr. Carter took two steps and grabbed him by the shirt collar. He lifted Hal like a scarecrow and dragged him across the room. He hung there, red-faced and coughing against the shirt that pressed into his throat. In less than two seconds, the door was flung open, and he was shoved outside. Mr.
Carter walked over to the bed and grabbed the blanket and pillow. He returned to the door and threw them out into the yard, pulled the door shut, and turned to face the room. He pressed his fingers together and cracked his knuckles. “I catch any of you lettin' him back in here, you'll be spendin' the night out there, too. Now, go back to your business. Mrs. Broomstead said she'll ring the supper bell in ten minutes.”

Mr. Carter walked out and I lay on my side and watched everyone. I'd never been with so many people my age. All their talking and moving around made me dizzy. I rolled over and stared at the ceiling until I heard the bell ring.

I climbed off my bed and followed the other boys through a hall and into a large room with two long tables. On the left side was the kitchen, all caged behind thick wire. Mr. Gene stood on a platform and began to say some stuff into a microphone. Halfway through his speech the boy next to me poked me in the ribs with his elbow. “It's a prayer,” he said. “Look down and shut your eyes.”

After the prayer, two boys I had seen earlier took bowls of food from a slot in the kitchen wire and set them on the tables. There was even more food in the boys' home than in jail. We had mashed potatoes, ham, rolls, salad, and iced tea. You ate as much as you liked. If you ran out, there was always more.

“I've never seen somebody eat so much,” the boy next to me said.

I kept eating and didn't answer.

“My name's Kit Slip,” he said. I turned to him and sized him up. He was even skinnier than me and so fair-skinned that he reminded me of a bull minnow. I might have thought he was sick if he hadn't been sitting up and talking to me
like he was. The thing most unusual about him was that he barely had hair. What hair he did have was as white as spider-weaving and seemed that it would blow away like dandelion seeds if you got him in the wind. When I was finally able to swallow everything, I said “Moon Blake” to him.

I didn't notice when the other boys started returning their plates to the kitchen. Kit had to tap me on the shoulder.

“Come on, Moon,” he said. “It's time to go.”

My plate still had some mashed potatoes left. I saw the others walking past me and out of the dining hall.

“Do we have to? I've still got some left.”

“Most boys go to the rec room now. We can play Ping-Pong or watch television.”

I took one more quick bite, then got up and returned my plate, too. I followed Kit to the rec room. But when we passed through the door that led out of the dining hall, Mr. Carter tapped me on the arm. “Come with me, Moon. Mr. Gene wants to see you.”

“What for?” I asked.

“I don't know. He's the boss. I don't ask questions.”

“You scared of him?”

Mr. Carter scrunched his face. “Come on,” he said.

 

To get to Mr. Gene's office Mr. Carter had to unlock the steel door again. After we passed through, he locked it back and motioned for me to keep moving. I followed behind
and tried to match my steps with his until he stopped and turned and stared at me. “Don't you be makin' trouble,” he said.

“I'll bet you can run fast,” I replied.

“You bet I can.”

We started walking again, and he went slower and I got up beside him. “Why'd you send Hal outside?”

“ 'Cause he's mean to you and everybody else.”

“What's wrong with him?”

“Got a bad attitude. He's been like that ever since he got here.”

“Why don't you send me outside? I'll stay under a tree and everybody else can stay in here.”

“Gonna be chilly tonight.”

“Cold doesn't bother me. All you need's a blanket and fire.”

“Ain't gonna be no fires around here. No matches allowed.”

“I don't need matches. I can rub sticks and make fire.”

Mr. Carter didn't answer, but started shaking his head. Soon we came to a door and Mr. Carter knocked on it.

Mr. Gene's office had thick carpet and a big desk with two chairs in front of it. He was pouring himself a glass of water when we walked in. His face was drawn like he worried a lot and didn't get much sleep.

“Thank you, Mr. Carter,” he said. “Moon, why don't you take a seat in one of those chairs.”

I sat down. Mr. Gene went around the other side of the desk and got in his chair and placed his drink down in front of him. I turned to see if Mr. Carter was still there, but he'd
already gone. Then I started to feel sick from all of the food I'd eaten. I took a deep breath and crossed my arms over my stomach.

“How was your supper?” Mr. Gene asked me.

“Good,” I said. “Better than jail.” I watched my stomach rise and fall because it felt bigger than usual.

“Mr. Carter says Sanders roughed you up.”

I shrugged.

“You know, we've had trouble with him before.”

“I'm okay.”

He studied me for a moment, then took a sip of his water. “Very well. Are you still planning on busting out of here?”

“Yessir.”

“Don't you think you'd rather be inside and warm than out in the cold alone with people like Sanders?”

“I'd rather be on my way to Alaska.”

“Ah yes, Alaska. Mr. Wellington told me about your Alaska plans.”

“There's people like me up there.”

“Yes?”

“That's why I'm bustin' out.”

“It seems you've got your mind pretty much set on what it is you want. Since that's the case, let me tell you how it's going to be.” Mr. Gene sat up in his chair and set his drink back down. His face tightened and became serious. “First of all, you're not going to bust out of here. We've never had anyone escape from Pinson. That talk is nonsense and you may as well get it out of your head. Second of all, there's a possibility that you have relatives.” Mr. Gene bent over and brought Pap's box from the floor and set it on the desk.

“Where'd you get that?”

“We've got all of your things in a safe place for you.”

“What about my rifle and bullets?”

“The police in Livingston have them.”

“What about my wheelbarrow and my clothes?”

“I don't know anything about a wheelbarrow and clothes.”

“Well, then, you don't have it all. Sanders threw my wheelbarrow in the swamp and he threw my deerskin hat in the road. They took my moccasins and my jacket at the jail. Said I wasn't gettin' my rifle back.”

“We'll look into all of that. However, your friend Mr. Abroscotto—”

“He's not my friend.”

“Fine. Mr. Abroscotto told me about these pictures. He—”

“That's why he's not my friend.”

Mr. Gene held up his hand. “Will you let me finish?”

I didn't answer him because my stomach suddenly started hurting bad. I took a couple of deep breaths.

“Mr. Abroscotto said one of these men here looks a lot like your father. If anyone turns out to be a relative of yours, then he can claim you. If not, you'll remain the property of the state. If you behave yourself, we may eventually find a foster home for you. Otherwise, you'll remain here until you're fourteen years of age, and then you'll be moved to Hellenweiler, our facility for older teenagers. You understand all of that?”

My stomach hurt so much that I didn't care what he said. I nodded my head and took another deep breath.

“Any more incidents like the one you had with me a couple
of days ago and your stay here will not be pleasant. Do you understand that?”

I nodded again.

“Good. First thing you'll need to do here at Pinson is get that mess of hair cut out of your eyes. You can do that tomorrow after breakfast. Report to the back of the kitchen and Mrs. Broomstead, the cook, will take care of it.” He shoved a pile of books from the corner of his desk at me. “And these will be your schoolbooks. We have school every weekday from seven thirty until three. You'll be in trailer two with Mrs. Crutcher. Understand?”

“Yessir.”

“Very well,” he said. “We'll see you in the morning.”

I stood up and grabbed my books.

“You know how to get to the rec room?”

I shook my head.

“After you put your books in your locker, go back out to the hall and take a left. It's the last room at the end of the hall. You'll see everybody in there.”

“Yessir,” I said.

“Who taught you to say ‘yessir'?”

“Pap did. Taught me everything.”

“That's good,” Mr. Gene said. “Keep it up.”

Mr. Carter was waiting outside the office. He walked back with me far enough to unlock the steel door and let me through. “Don't you cause any trouble back there,” he said.

“I won't.”

On the way to the bunk room I noticed that all of the windows had wire inside the glass. Every door that led out of the building had alarm signs on it. Unless there was some way to
get out of the play yard, I understood why no one had ever escaped from Pinson.

I heard the sound of the other boys down in the rec room, but I felt so bad that I decided to go to my bed and lie down. When I walked into the bunk room, I heard someone tapping on the window. I turned sideways and saw Hal pointing at me. “You're dead,” I heard him say. I looked away and continued to my bunk. I put my books in locker eighteen and saw a new blue jacket hanging in there. I ran my finger over it and thought about how much I missed the deerskin one that Pap made me. “Gonna get my stuff back, Pap,” I mumbled. I shut the locker and climbed up to my bed and slept.