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Authors: Noah James Adams

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The scandal at
Stockwell turned out to be much uglier than I had first thought, and Malley was
eventually sentenced to prison for a long list of offenses. One of the investigators
said that Malley would have to be kept in protective isolation or the other
inmates would kill him when they heard everything he did at Stockwell.

Krieger and his
boys were likewise charged with a number of crimes that added years to their
sentences. They would serve the rest of their time in the most secure section
of the prison with only strictly supervised time outside their cells. Director
Atkins lost his job, and the next director was more active in inspecting the
operation of each pod.

During her
visits, Miss Martin relayed information to me about Craig Krieger's progress. Before
Krieger returned to Stockwell, he underwent two operations, and I doubt the
state used the best surgeons. The first surgery was unsuccessful, and the
second one was a matter of giving him the best outcome to help him deal with
his new reality. After doing all he could with Krieger's medical issues, his
doctor referred him to the psychiatric clinic. Krieger stayed there for several
weeks until his doctor downgraded him to outpatient status and eventually
decided that weekly counseling sessions would be enough.

In addition to
Craig Krieger's cosmetic, psychological, and legal problems, just two months
after his altercation with me Carl, his older brother, was killed by a rival
drug dealer. Someone may have felt sorry for Craig, but not me. I wished Craig
had died too.

Since they were
all separated from me, I never saw Krieger or any of his gang during my
remaining time in Stockwell. However, I did
hear indirectly from
Krieger. Because Gabby knew one of the COs in the isolation pod, he was able to
pass the word to me that Craig Krieger's new mission in life was to kill me no
matter how hard it was or how long it took. Specifically, Krieger said that he
wanted to carve me into a hundred pieces and piss in my wounds while I slowly
bled to death.

***

Hal and Jenny
agreed with Miss Martin that a boy coming from Stockwell might have difficulty adjusting
to normal social situations. Hal thought that it was quite possible, given our
shared experience of serving time in Stockwell, that Ant Jefferson and I might
have enough in common to develop a rewarding friendship. Hearing Hal's dime
store analysis of the dynamics required for Ant and me to become good friends,
had me quietly shaking my head above the air vent.

A few weeks
after he moved into my room, Ant Jefferson told me the story of how he discussed
his anxiety about his pending move to Tolley House with Gerry, his cellmate. We
determined that Gerry and he were talking at the same time that I was listening
to Miss Martin and the Mackeys. Parts of Ant's story were sad, but other parts
of it were very funny, and I laugh every time I think of it, especially if I
hear any reference to "Mr. Potato Head."

I think the best
way to relay this brief story is to tell it the way I visualize what Ant told
me. I wish I had been a roach on the wall of their cell that night, but hearing
Ant's detailed version was almost as good.

***

Antwon "Ant"
Jefferson sat on his bunk, his back leaning against the concrete wall of his
cell. He hugged his thin pillow and stared at a clear plastic bag that he would
use the next evening to pack his personal belongings. It was an hour away from
lights out at ten o'clock. It was thirty-six hours away from his parole when
Miss Martin would sign him out of Stockwell and drive him to a meeting with his
PO in Harper Springs. Afterwards, she would take him to Tolley House, his new
group home.

Ant knew that
Tolley House was a home for troubled boys who were wards of the state and had
juvenile arrest records. Some of the boys had no family, some had no family who
wanted them, and some had no family the court deemed fit to care for them. Ant
fell into both the second and third categories.

He was not
surprised when Miss Martin informed him that he would not be going back to his
old home in the low-rent apartment building in Colliers, a town in the poorest
corner of Bergeron County. No one in his family had visited him, called him, or
even written a letter during the two and a half years of his incarceration, so
he was not expecting to live with any of them.

Social Services
handed Miss Martin Ant's case since he had no suitable family member to be his
guardian. Until Miss Martin told him, he didn't know that his mother was
serving the first year of five-year sentence in the women's state prison after
her third arrest on drug charges. She was never much of a mother to Ant, and he
would never forgive her for choosing Poe and his drugs over her son.

Three weeks
after Ant first saw Poe, the dealer moved into their apartment and began
running his drug business from there. Poe didn't use the drugs he sold, but he
was a mean drunk who often hit Ant's mother, Ant, and anyone else in his path. Late
one night when Poe was full of whiskey, he almost beat Ant's mother to death. Ant
stopped him by stabbing Poe from behind with a steak knife, sinking it to the
hilt in the man's lower back. Since she depended on free drugs from Poe, Ant's
mother swore in court that Ant's attack was unprovoked and caused by his jealousy
of Poe. His mother didn't give Ant a second glance when Judge Merlo ordered the
cops to take the tearful ten-year old boy away in chains to Stockwell.

Ant had never
even known his father's name, and his mother could only narrow his sperm donor
down to one of three men who were all casual hookups, probably dealers or
johns. As far as he knew, he had two adult brothers and one older sister. His
sister moved out with her pimp when she was fifteen, and he was sure that his
brothers were still serving time for armed robbery. Ant had never depended on
anyone to help him, and it would be no different when he left the juvie prison.

After having
three birthdays in Stockwell, Ant was comfortable with the routine, and he was
strangely nervous about the change his parole would bring. It wasn't that he
liked Stockwell, because there was plenty to hate, but it was safer than his
old neighborhood was, and he never had to steal food or clothes. After his
parole, he would be an outcast any time he walked outside his new group home. Inside
the home, he would be the new boy, adjusting to the house rules of his
guardians and the unwritten rules of the other boys. Instead of attending the
mandatory classes in the detention center with other inmates, he would have to
go to a real public school where he would be bottom scum. A black juvenile
delinquent.

Miss Martin added
to his concerns when she casually mentioned that he would be rooming at Tolley House
with another boy from Stockwell. When she gave him the name, Ant pleaded with
his caseworker for another roommate, but according to her, there was only one
bed available at Tolley House, and none of the other boys would swap roommates.
Ant was not surprised.

Miss Martin
asked that he have an open mind and give it a chance. She assured him that his
new roommate had caused no trouble in the house and had even joined a mentoring
program with a man who was a friend of hers. Ant had to admit to her that he
and the other boy had never had an altercation or even exchanged heated words,
but everyone in Stockwell had been wary of the boy they called "psycho."
It had been so long since Ant had heard the boy called anything other than
"psycho" that it took him a moment to remember that his new
roommate's real name was River Blue.

Miss Martin assured
Ant that the Mackeys kept tight control in the house, but if he
did
have
a complaint, she would fix it immediately. Ant wondered how many nights he
could go without sleep before exhaustion would overtake him and force him to
close his eyes alone in a room with Blue. He tried to imagine his room at
Tolley House, hoping it was big enough that Blue would not feel that Ant was
crowding him. He brought his hand to his nose, touched it, and decided that he
liked it the way it was. He didn't want a rubber one.

After reading a
letter from his mom, Gerry had to raise his voice to get Ant's attention. He
always shared his letters since Ant never got mail of his own. He leaned across
the space between the two bunks and tossed the letter in his cellmate's lap.

"Damn,
boy," said Gerry. "You look like they're adding five years on your
sentence instead of paroling you. I asked you if you wanted to read my letter
from Mom. As usual, she asked how you were doing and told me to remind you that
you were welcome to come visit us one day."

Ant picked up
the letter and studied his white cellmate a moment. Inmates didn't always have
a cellmate, as it depended on what the inmate count was, but it had been crowded
in their current pod most of Ant's time, and Gerry had been his cellmate for
over a year. He was a good guy, just a few months older than Ant. They got
along well, which was important since they had to share a small space where
there was no privacy. A few months prior, because of their seniority and clean
reports, they had a chance for their own cells, but they decided against it. The
cell could be a lonely place without company, and when the detention center
became crowded again, the COs would give them new cellmates that they might not
want.

"Yo, man, it's
weird," said Ant. "It's like I won't know how to act on the outside. I
know what I'm doing here, but everyone and everything will be strange day after
tomorrow."

"You'll be
alright. I wish I was going with you, but I got another six months if I'm
lucky." Gerry hesitated and then casually said, "Ant, you know if you
ever get bored or anything, I wouldn't mind a letter. You know, telling me how
you're doing and stuff."

Ant was glad
that Gerry would miss him. "I'll write you every week, and you better
write me back. Keep me up on things here. Yo, Gerry, I'm gonna miss you."

"Bullshit,"
said Gerry. "First short skirt that wiggles your way, your brain's gonna
stop working, and I'll be the last thing you think about."

Ant grinned. "Yo,
whatever, dude. We gotta hook up when you get out. Maybe they'll send you to
Tolley House like me."

"Nah, Mom's
working hard to stay sober, so she can convince my caseworker to send me home. If
I did go to Tolley House, you wouldn't be there by the time I get out."

"Miss
Martin said I would stay until I finished high school," argued Ant.

"Yeah,
that's what you're supposed to do, but "Psycho" will kill you in your
sleep before then." Gerry laughed hard at his own joke, knowing how
nervous Ant was about his new roommate at Tolley House.

Ant was pissed. "Thanks,
asshole. I didn't need to hear that shit."

"Jesus, Ant.
It was a joke. That kid ain't gonna bother you. You can't listen to all them stories.
I bet the ones spreadin' them tales didn't see nothing. They're just repeating
what they heard or making up stuff."

"Yo, that's
true on some things, but we both saw what happened to Krieger. That shit was
real, and I'll never forget it as long as I live."

"Ant, all
I'm saying is that he ain't the monster serial killer the rumors say he is. Did
you ever see him start anything with anybody? Did he start that shit with
Krieger?"

"No, but
you saw what he done. A dude would have to be crazy to act like that. Yo, all
that blood and shit gave me freakin' nightmares."

"Listen,
Ant. I talked to Blue a few times when we were both working weights. We even
spotted for each other on the bench. He was an okay kid, but he had some angry
shit in him, and Krieger stepped right in the middle of it."

"Gerry, I
know Krieger deserved it, but there's beat downs and then there's crazy shit. You
got to be crazy to rip a dude's nose off with yo teeth, spit it out, and then
try to finish killin' him when he's on his knees begging for help."

Gerry nodded. "Yeah,
maybe so, but Krieger never showed nobody any mercy, and you can only get away
with fucking with people for so long. Show Blue some respect and give him some
space, and you guys will be okay."

Gerry's words
made Ant feel a little better. "Yo, guess I don't have any choice. I hope
you're right cause I don't want no fake parts, so I be looking like Mister Fucking
Potato Head."

Ant didn't sleep
well that night. He kept dreaming that he couldn't find his nose.

***

Ant was
hysterically funny when he recounted his reaction to finding out that he would
be rooming with me, and once in a while when we talked late at night, I would
beg him to repeat it as if I were a little kid wanting to hear my favorite
bedtime story.

It took time
before we were sharing stories of any kind with each other because we didn't
get off to the best of starts. It wasn't Ant's fault, but the first day I met
him, I grew so angry and made such a scene, I thought I might be on my way back
to Stockwell.

 

CHAPTER
NINE

 

The morning that
Ant Jefferson came to live at Tolley House, the Mackeys asked all of us boys to
hang around long enough to welcome him before we headed to the park for the day.
While my foster brothers and I ate breakfast, I pictured how things would go
for Ant that morning. I was sure it would be very similar to the way it was for
me when Miss Martin signed me out of Stockwell and took me to meet my parole
officer.

After listening
to my PO's warnings, I rode with Miss Martin to Tolley House, a white, two-story
home sitting on a two-acre lot that included a big, shady back yard surrounded
by a white fence. I immediately liked the clean, quiet neighborhood that was in
an old but decent area of Harper Springs. The houses were well maintained, and
every yard I saw showed that the residents cared enough to mow the grass, trim
shrubs, and weed flowerbeds.

We had just
finished breakfast when we heard Miss Martin's car engine in the driveway, followed
by the sounds of two car doors closing. Through the large windows at the front
of the house, I could see that Miss Martin had her arm around Ant for their
walk to the door. He appeared to be nervous about his new home, and I felt a
little sorry for him, as it was scary to be the new kid in a strange place. Still,
I knew that any boy who survived Stockwell should be tough enough to handle a
group home, even if it housed juvenile delinquents.

Hal and Jenny
Mackey met Ant and Miss Martin at the front door, which opened into the large
family room. It had just enough seating for all the residents when we gathered
to watch movies on the sixty-inch TV, a gift from Papa.

I watched as Hal
and Jenny shook hands with Ant, welcomed him with big smiles, and I'm sure, immediately
relieved some of his anxiety. Ant politely returned their greetings and
probably thought the same thing I did when I first met the Mackeys. They were a
friendly, middle-class white couple with good intentions, but they had no clue
what Stockwell was like.

Jenny offered
Ant and Miss Martin a seat on one of the two sofas, and Hal called the two boys
who had wandered off after breakfast. When all the boys were in the room, the
seven of us gathered in a half circle facing Ant. I thought that he might be
relieved to see the diverse racial mix of the group, which consisted of three
whites, two blacks, one Latino, and one mixed breed "psycho."

Hal introduced
each one of us. At that time, there was John, Mike, Malik, Don, Akeem, Julio,
and me. Each of us greeted Ant with a simple "Hi" or "Sup."
Mike, a dorky, white guy, went so far as to say, "Pleased to meet you."
Some of the boys grinned, and others studied Ant with mild curiosity. The only
thing he got out of me was a barely perceptible nod of my head, but I made good
eye contact. According to what Ant told me later, I made him feel creepy and
glad that we were not alone. I was surprised because that was my friendly look.

Hal explained to
Ant that we boys delayed our walks to the park in order to stay home long
enough to meet him, but he was going to excuse us in a minute to go to the park.
My foster brothers appeared ready to run out the door as soon as Hal gave the
word.

I was glad that
Hal wasn't going to drag things out too long. I had to leave to meet Papa at
the park, as I had almost every day for the past two weeks. Each day he worked
with me on my football skills, and during our breaks from the heat, he did his
part as my mentor by discussing the character traits I needed to be successful
in life. He always gave me time to ask him questions on any subject I wanted
and promised me that anything we discussed would remain confidential. I was
excited about that particular day in the park because Coach Riddle, the junior
high school football coach, would be joining us to devote an entire hour of his
time to coaching me. I would have to jog part of the way, but I knew I could be
on time to meet Papa and the coach, if I left in the next ten minutes.

Hal continued
talking. "Antwon, you can spend some time getting to know the other boys
tonight and go with them next time. I want to make sure that you know the rules
before I allow you to go off on your own." I couldn't help feeling pissed
that I had to wait two months to go to the park, and Ant would only have to
wait a day. Hal turned from Ant to my foster brothers. "Okay, you guys can
go ahead to the park for the day. All except River."

At first, I
wasn't sure that I heard right. I noticed smirks from some of the boys who were
apparently amused that I had to stay. I'm sure I looked surprised, because I
was. Hal had mentioned nothing about me having to stay longer than my foster
brothers did, and I began to wonder. What did I do wrong? Did he mean I had to
stay home all day?

As the other
boys left for the park, I looked at the people who remained with Hal and me. Ant's
face was pleading for me to understand that he had nothing to do with Hal's
decision. Jenny appeared to be searching for something on the floor, and Miss
Martin rubbed her temple as if she felt the beginning of a migraine. It was
clear to me that I wasn't going to the park at all that day, and I was fighting
to control my anger when I challenged Hal.

"Why do I
have to stay? Am I being punished? I'm supposed to meet Papa and Coach Riddle.
Coach Riddle rearranged his schedule to coach me one on one today. I'll have to
run to get there on time as it is."

Hal answered me
pleasantly as if he were explaining the concept of sharing to a toddler. "You
have to stay because as Ant's roommate and someone who has shared common
experiences, you're the best one to be his buddy and help him get adjusted on
his first day. I called Papa last night and told him that you wouldn't be there
this morning."

What? Was he
kidding me? Did he honestly think that there was one chance in hell that I
wouldn't be pissed off enough to lose control?

"So I
didn't do anything wrong, but you called Papa last night to change
my
plans? And you're just telling me
now
?" I began to tremble. I was a
rumbling volcano ready to spew my anger over everyone in the room.

"I'm sorry."
Hal smiled and hunched his shoulders apologetically. "I should have told
you, but it just slipped my mind to mention it to you."

"You
fucking liar!" I fumed. "You decided to show Miss Martin and Jenny
how a tough guy gets me to cooperate. All you had to do was make it mandatory.
Right, Hal? But then your weenie ass was scared to tell me until Miss Martin
was here."

Hal lost his
smile. "Don't you dare speak to me that way, young man. And were you
listening to a private conversation?"

Acting indignant
was easier for Hal than admitting I was right. I ignored his question.

"You told
me the mentoring program had to come before anything else. You said Papa sets
my schedule, and he's in charge of me. Now after only two weeks, you're already
screwing up my plans with Papa to suit your convenience."

"River, you
have to calm down. You're being very disrespectful," warned Hal.

Miss Martin
tried to intervene. "River, why don't you sit down with us, and let's talk
this out."

I ignored her
and stepped closer to Hal, invading his personal space, making him
uncomfortable. We were the same height, but where I had muscle, he had bones. He
pushed his glasses up his nose, and I stared into his eyes, which were blinking
like caution lights. His lips twitched and his skin oozed tiny bubbles of sweat.
I knew he was scared, but I didn't realize exactly what I was doing to him.
Later, Papa told me in strict confidence exactly how traumatic my behavior was
for Hal and why I could never act that way again.

Hal was afraid, just
as he had been afraid of the bullies who had tormented him every year that he
spent in school. When he graduated to safety, he found adulthood an easier time
to gain respect. His job at Tolley House was therapeutic in that he had authority
over the kinds of boys who had harassed him when he was a kid. He had good
reason to assume that the boys would never blatantly disrespect him or disobey
him because of his power over their futures. He could make a phone call to the
Probation and Parole Department that would almost assure that a boy on
probation would draw his first sentence to Stockwell, or that a boy paroled early
for good behavior would return to serve out the rest of his time.

Everyone in the
room knew that Hal had made a mistake by not discussing the issue with me the
previous night. He had failed to anticipate how angry I would be, and he hadn't
foreseen having to handle an enraged boy, lacking the maturity to weigh the
consequences of his actions. I temporarily didn't care about his authority.

They also knew
that an apology from Hal would help calm me, but he would not admit he was
wrong in front of Jenny and Miss Martin. Instead, he kept playing the
authoritative figure in his fantasy world where everyone took him seriously.

"River,
back away from me. I'm not going to tolerate your disrespect." Hal was so
nervous that I was surprised he got the words out of his mouth, and when he
did, his command was more of a pleading whine.

No one could
miss my contempt when I spoke even louder in Hal's face. "That's kinda
weird, Hal, because I think you changing our agreement and my plans without
even discussing it with me is even
more
disrespectful. How can I respect
you when you weren't man enough to do the right thing and tell me all this last
night?"

Hal's sweaty
face turned deep red. He was not only afraid of me, he was angry and
embarrassed by me calling him out in front of the others.

I could see that
Jenny, Miss Martin, and Ant were in various degrees of shock over the ferocity
behind my argument. I frightened all three of them, and when I was
that
angry,
I even scared myself. They could all see that I was ready to go toe to toe with
Hal, and as much as the man wished that he could physically restrain me, he
knew he couldn't. The last thing Hal wanted was for a thirteen-year-old boy to
embarrass him in front of his wife.

Again, Hal tried
to gain control over the situation. "River, please go to your room. We all
need some time to cool off and a chance to think. Later, we'll all be able to
speak more rationally to each other."

I managed a smile
that probably came across as a maniacal sneer. "I'm
very
rational,
Hal. Let's take a vote." I nodded at Ant, Miss Martin, and Jenny. "Does
anyone think Hal handled things right? He says I need to improve my social
skills, so did he give me a good example to follow? If he wanted me to be sweet
to my new roomie, was this the right way to encourage me? It looks to me like
Hal didn't think his idea through very well. Personally, I think he screwed the
pooch all the way around, and there's nothing he can pull from one of his
stupid books that's gonna make what he did look any smarter."

As angry as Hal
was at my ridicule, he couldn't think of anything that would help him save face
in front of the others. I could tell that Miss Martin disagreed with what Hal
did, but I also knew she was appalled at my behavior. Worse than that, I
thought that she was ashamed of me and that bothered me enough to dial my anger
down a notch.

Jenny looked
miserable, and I found out later that she told Hal the previous night that he
should ask for my help right then instead of springing it on me at the last
minute. When I looked at Ant, I saw a nervous kid, sweating enough to darken
the sides of his shirt. I still thought Hal was to blame for the argument, but
I didn't like the idea of upsetting the others.

I addressed Miss
Martin, Jenny, and Ant. "I'm sorry for getting so mad. I need to get away
from here, so I'm going to the park now." I marched towards the front door,
and Hal found the nerve to go after me.

"River,
wait!" Hal caught up to me and grabbed my arm from behind. "If you
walk out that door, you're in violation of your parole terms, and you know what
that means."

Hal just couldn't
leave it alone. He had to take one more stab at looking like the man in charge,
so he threatened me with Stockwell. I turned to face him and looked from his eyes
to his hand, which he promptly took off my arm. He was the only one who could
hear my words when I leaned in close to his ear and whispered.

"Okay, Hal,
send me to Stockwell to serve the rest of my time. That will give me four years
of nothing to do but hate you and lift weights. Four years to think of exactly
how I'll say thanks when I get out." I studied his eyes long enough to see
them water and blink. "Oh, and Hal, if you ever grab me again, I'll break your
fucking arm."

I walked out of
the house and slammed the door behind me. I was halfway to the park before the
reality of my scene at Tolley House struck me.

Hal handled
things badly, but he didn't start the fire. He only threw fuel on a flame that
had been burning long before I met him. I was always on guard and ready to
strike back against anything that I considered unfair. If I thought that
someone disrespected me, I often reacted with my fists. If someone tried to
hurt me physically, I did not simply respond with appropriate self-defense, I
overreacted. When I thought of my altercations with people like Nathan Beck,
John Gunter, Kevin Schultz, Julio Morales, Corey Boyce, and even Craig Krieger,
none of them was solely responsible for the intensity of my payback.

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