Boot Camp (22 page)

I think I hear Mr. Sparks telling Adam to take a
break and get some lunch, but maybe I've dreamed it. Did I hear the door open and close, or was that a dream, too? I could open my eyes to look, but it takes more energy than I can muster.

“Garrett?”

At the sensation of a hand on my shoulder, I shrink back in anticipation of pain. But the hand doesn't squeeze or pinch or poke.

“You can lie down.”

I open my eyes and see Mr. Sparks's face.

“Go on.” He presses down gently. “No one's going to hurt you.”

I lie down.

Voices.

“Why's he lying down, sir?”

“He passed out.”

“But sir, Joe said he's not supposed to sleep.”

“He passed out. What was I supposed to do?”

“Did you try to wake him, sir?”

“What do you think?”

“Sir, if Joe finds him like this, I'll get demerits.”

I feel the toe of a shoe prod me. “Hey, wake up.”

It's going to take a lot more than that.

“Get up!” Adam screams at me.

I raise my head and look pleadingly at Mr. Sparks.

“Unnh!” A jolt of pain leaves me gasping as Adam delivers a kick to my ribs. Mr. Sparks winces sympathetically, but there's nothing he can do.

“You will be deemed ready to leave Lake Harmony when you have expressed gratitude to your parents for sending you here.”

It was stupid of me to try to escape. I was wroms to help Sarah and Paul escape. I was sent here because I was disrespectful and ignorant. I was disobedient and out of control. I've grown up a lot. I hardly even think about Sabrima anymore. I think I'm ready to go home and be respectful to my
parents. But that will be up to my father, Joe, to decide.

“That's good, Garrett.” At the touch of Joe's hand, I cower and jerk away. We're in Reflections, and I've just written in my notebook.

“Hey, come on.” My family “father” reaches out and pats my shoulder with approval. “We're past all that now, right?”

“I—I guess, sir.” I glance furtively at the other members of my family, but no one is paying attention. Weeks have passed since the escape. Most of my bruises have healed; most of the black-and-blue marks have disappeared. All that was part of the old Garrett. They don't attack me anymore. These days I'm just another quiet, obedient kid working his way up the levels. Even Adam doesn't seem interested in me. He's a Level Six now and hardly says anything or looks at anyone. Joe says he'll probably graduate soon.

I'm getting close to Level Five myself. Joe says I'm progressing really fast. He says sometimes the kids who've resisted the most change the fastest once they've learned their lesson. I understand what he means. At sixteen we think we know everything, but the truth is we're too young and immature to really know anything. Like yesterday I had to report a Level One for whispering at lunch, but he should have known better. If he ever wants to be more than a minimum-wager, he's going to have to shape up.

There are new kids in Dignity. Kids with anger
issues, who smirk and roll their eyes and think they're smart and can get away with stuff. Last night after Shut Down, Unibrow Robert, David Zitface, and Babyface Miles beat up a kid in the bathroom. We all heard it, but the troll said if any of us wanted to graduate from Lake Harmony, we'd better pretend we didn't hear anything. Unibrow Robert is the new enforcer now. At mealtime if he wants my fries, I always give them to him. What difference does it make? Like the RLs say, they're not even good for you.

Mr. Sparks is my favorite chaperone. Whenever he sees me, he says: “How's it going, Garrett?” I always answer: “Just staying out of trouble, sir.” Sometimes when I say that, he looks a little sad. But he shouldn't be. Things are better this way.

“That's it,” Joe announces at the end of Reflections. “Garrett?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Lead the family back.”

Huh? Me?

“Is there a problem?” Joe asks.

“No, sir!” I jump to my feet. Leading the family is a job for a teen guard. This is a big step toward the upper levels.

“Hand in your markers and notebooks, everyone— let's go,” I tell them.

The members of Dignity family start to get up. This is really good. Once I'm a Level Five, I'll be able to grow my hair longer and watch movies in the upper-level lounge.

The door opens, and a guy named Jason from Respect family comes in.

“What is it?” Joe asks.

“Mr. Z wants Garrett in his office, sir.”

“Now?” Joe frowns. It's almost Shut Down, a strange time for Mr. Z to be asking to see anyone.

“Yes, sir. Right now.”

Joe glances my way. Ever since the trouble I caused, there's a new rule that two staff members are supposed to accompany residents at all times. But I'll have to go with Jason alone.

“Can I trust you, Garrett?” Joe asks.

“Absolutely, sir.” He doesn't have to worry about me doing anything wrong. Not after all I've been through.

“All right, you can go.”

Jason and I leave the food hall. It's a clear winter night, and the icy air fills my lungs. The ground under our shoes is frozen. The grass crunches, the trees are bare, and there's a big, round, bright moon.

“Garrett!”

The woman's voice sounds so familiar, but for a moment I can't understand why. A figure is hurrying toward me in the dark, silhouetted by the outdoor lights. It's … my mother! She's wearing a red ski parka. Her hands are jammed in the pockets, and the ends of her blond hair peek out from under a fur hat. People are following her. There's my father in a heavy sweater and a down vest, and a man in a dark suit and topcoat, and another woman. Clouds of vapor escape their lips.

“Oh, honey!” My mother pulls me close and hugs
me hard. I can smell her perfume. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

She leans back and stares at me uncertainly. Her forehead is furrowed with concern. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, ma'am. Uh, what are you doing here, ma'am?”

She pulls me close and hugs me again. It feels a little strange because of the no-touch rule. Being so close to Level Five, I sure don't want to get in any trouble now. Meanwhile, her lips move close to my ear as she whispers, “You don't have to call me ma'am. I'm your mother. I'm here to take you out of this place. You can tell the truth, Garrett. I know what's been going on.”

She backs away slightly but holds onto my shoulders. Now my father and the man in the topcoat and the other woman join us. Behind them is Mr. Z. I realize that the other woman is Rebecca. She takes my hand in hers.

“I found your parents,” she says. “I told them how you saved our lives.”

“We weren't sure whether to believe her,” my father says. “But then we heard from a young woman in Canada. Someone named Sarah.”

“Were you hit, or beaten, or injured at any time by a staff member?” the man in the topcoat asks.

I hesitate when Mr. Z catches my eye and clenches his jaw in warning.

“They said you were beaten,” my father says. “Is that true?”

Mr. Z glares at me and shakes his head. My mother sees this.

“You can tell us the truth, Garrett,” she pleads. “Don't pay any attention to that man. It doesn't matter now. We're taking you home. I promise you'll never see him again.”

“Were you hit, or beaten, or kicked or injured at any time by a staff member?” the man in the topcoat asks again.

Mr. Z's eyes narrow into a furious glare. I know my mother said I'd never see him again, but I'm still afraid.

“Tell us the truth, Garrett,” my father urges. “Did they hurt you?”

“I… I… Yes, sir, they did.” I feel Mr. Z's eyes on me. “But—”

“But what?” my father asks.

“But…. I deserved it, sir.”

A secret prison system for teenagers exists in the United States. Many have never heard of it, and even among those who have, few understand what it really is or how it works. You do not have to be found guilty of a crime to be placed in one of these prisons, also known as boot camps. You do not even have to be accused of committing a crime. All you have to do is be under the age of eighteen.

It is impossible to know how many boot camps exist. Estimates put the number between one hundred and two hundred, and the number of teens in them between four thousand and ten thousand. Most boot camps avoid publicity, preferring instead to advertise their services privately and by word of mouth. In addition a number of boot camps have been set up outside United States borders—especially in Central America and the Caribbean, but also as far away as Thailand and the Philippines—to avoid American regulations against the mistreatment of teenage detainees.

Mistreatment of teens in boot camps is well documented. On a daily basis teens in these camps are forced to endure the intense physical demands of prolonged exercise, runs, drills, and outdoor hikes in extreme heat or cold. Food is often close to inedible, and medical care is scant. In the past twenty years close to forty young people between the ages of thirteen and seventeen have died in these facilities, often as a result of physical abuse, malnourishment, and neglect.

There are different types of boot camps. Some are state-run; others are privately operated. Some have a religious orientation. All have the following in common:

1) The mission of accepting “defiant,” “unruly,” “out-of-control” teens and the promise of returning a child who is “respectful,” “polite,” and “obedient.”

2) Rigorous and often torturous physical, emotional, and psychological agendas aimed at “reprogramming” young residents.

3) Extremely tight security—surveillance cameras, motion detectors, walls topped with broken glass, and razor-wire fences—designed to insure that no one escapes.

Demand for the services of these camps is high, allowing some facilities, which dub themselves “specialty schools” and “behavior modification programs,” to charge up to forty thousand dollars a year. The average stay is one to three years.

While “defiant” teens make up the bulk of the population in these programs, boot camps are wide-reaching in whom they will accept, including
teens described as “depressed,” “failing in school,” “pregnant,” “suffering from attention deficit disorder or hyperactivity,” “truant,” “promiscuous,” “having feelings of despair,” “suffering emotional problems,” or “lacking motivation.”

In at least one case, a seventeen-year-old girl was sent to a well-known boot camp because of an “unsuitable choice of boyfriend.”

While many teenagers will at times feel depressed or unmotivated or have emotional problems, they have no legal rights or recourse should their parents decide to send them away. It is perfectly legal for parents to hire professional kidnappers, who prefer to be called “transporters,” to abduct their children and deliver them to the desired facility.

Once in a boot camp, teens are cut off from the outside world. They are not allowed to communicate with anyone except their parents, who are warned in advance that complaints of physical abuse and maltreatment are lies—attempts by their child to “manipulate” them in order to be taken out of the boot camp. All forms of news and current entertainment are forbidden in order to reinforce the impression that the world inside the boot camp is the only thing that matters.

At the age of eighteen, teens are legally considered adults and therefore allowed to leave the facility if they choose. But teens under the age of eighteen have no choice. Should parents decide for any reason that they've had enough of a child, they can sentence him or her to boot camp. And the child is helpless to stop them.

The information for this book came from many sources. While the books and articles I drew on for research were too numerous to mention, below is a list of some of the more important ones:

1) Capeloto, Alex. “Inside the Macomb County Youth Home,”
Detroit Free Press,
September, 2003.

2) Cohen, Adam. “Is This a Camp or a Jail?”
Time
magazine, January 26, 1998.

3) Collier, Lorna. “The Last Resort,”
Chicago Tribune,
May 27, 2001.

4) Halbfinger, David. “Care of Juvenile Offenders in Mississippi is Faulted”,
New York Times,
Sept 1, 2003.

5) Hargrove, Mary. “Beat Him Up and Do Him Good. Don't Leave Any Marks,”
Arkansas Democrat-Gazette,
June 1998.

6) Janofsky, Michael. “Accounts Put Darker Cloud Over Camp,”
New York Times,
July 4, 2001.

7) Kent, Stephen A., and Hall, Deana.
Brainwashing and Re-Indoctrination Programs in the Children of God/The Family,
University of Alberta, abstract published in
Cultic Studies Journal,
Volume 17 (2000): 56-78.

8) Keri J. “Surviving Survival Camp”
www.nospank.net

9) Krajicek, David. “Time To Stick a Fork in America's Correctional Boot Camp Boondoggle,” MSNBC, December 23, 1999.

10) Labi, Nadya. “Want Your Kid to Disappear?” transcript from
Leonard Lopate Show,
WNYC, July 1, 2004.

11) Leonard, Andrew. “Schools of Hard Knocks”
Salon,
February 23, 1998.

12) Parks, Alexia.
An American Gulag,
The Education Exchange, Eldorado Springs, CO, 2000.

13) Riak, Jordan. “Deadly Restraint”
www.nospank.net
, January, 2003.

14) Selcraig, Bruce. “Camp Fear”
Mother Jones Magazine,
December, 2000.

15) Smith, Christopher. “Tough Love Proves Too Tough: The Short Life and Hard Death of a Teenager”,
High Country News,
Paonia, CO, June 10, 1996.