Dirt Road Home Read online

  “Paco?”

  “I could have been a forester.”

  The Ministers were all turned, looking at me.

  “Paco?”

  “Instead, I am this. I will always be this.”

  Jack began walking toward me, the rest of the Ministers following.

  “I gotta go, Paco.”

  Paco nodded slowly and I began to stand. Suddenly he grabbed my arm and held me. “No, you stay here today, my friend. I’ll see you tonight.”

  “What?”

  But he pulled me down and stood in my place. Jack was almost to us and Paco took a step toward him and stopped. They were faced off, Jack’s cheeks twitching and the fire dancing in his eyes.

  “Get out of my way,” Jack said.

  Caboose had moved toward us a few steps and watched intently. Jack stared at Paco and pointed to Caboose at the same time. “I want both of you to stay out of this,” Jack said.

  Paco didn’t respond.

  “Hal’s not even a Hound!” Jack said. “He’s nothin’! He’s in no-man’s-land!”

  “So am I,” said Paco.

  Caboose took another step but Paco stopped him. “You heard him, Caboose. Stay out of it.”

  Jack’s hands fidgeted at his sides.

  “Hit me,” Paco said.

  “What? I don’t have anything against you.”

  Now the Hounds were drifting over. Paco looked across Jack’s shoulder at the rest of the Ministers. He raised his voice just loud enough for them to hear. “I’m asking you to hit me, coward.”

  Jack started to turn and look back at his gang, but stopped and faced Paco again. The fire in his eyes was dimmer and something had gone slack about his face.

  “Hey, Paco!” Tattoo yelled. “What’s goin’ on? This isn’t a Hound fight.”

  Preston had moved to the front of the Ministers. “Hit him, Paco,” Preston said.

  I studied Preston in disbelief. He looked at me, his eyes dancing with excitement and an idiot grin spreading across his face. I shook my head at his stupidity.

  “Fight me or your friends behind you, Jack,” Paco said. “Looks like Preston’s already in line for your spot.”

  Jack was cornered. The tension jerked into his face again and I could almost hear the angry hornets. He charged and rammed Paco against the fence. I rolled out of the way and got to my knees and watched. Jack began driving his fists into Paco’s kidneys over and over while Paco did nothing to defend himself. Slowly, Paco began to double over until he was on his knees. Jack backed off, surprised at himself. Caboose took another step forward, but somehow Paco saw this and signaled for him to stand back. Jack came at Paco again and began hammering his face with the fury of an insane person. Paco’s big head went right and left with the blows, his eyes open the whole time, watching, waiting, while he did nothing. The Ministers cheered and the Hounds were a silent huddle behind them. I saw Caboose’s giant legs beside me, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the fight. I couldn’t believe the beating Paco was taking. Then he finally rolled over onto his side. Jack began cursing him and kicking him in the ribs. Paco doubled up and coughed blood onto the dirt. Suddenly Mr. Pratt was grabbing Jack and pulling him away.

  “That’s enough, Jack!”

  “You see who’s the man!” Jack yelled. “You feel that! Call me a coward!”

  Jack struggled against Mr. Pratt and managed to turn and face the Ministers. “You all see that! Don’t ever get in my face!”

  Mr. Pratt squeezed Jack to his chest and drug him backward. “I’m gonna have to take you to solitary for this, Jack.”

  “The hell you are!”

  “We’ll talk to Mr. Fraley about it.”

  “Yeah, we will! Let’s go see him!” Jack let out a crazy laugh. “Then I’ll see every one of you at dinner tonight!”

  I crawled over to Paco. Caboose stepped past me and bent down and picked him up and put him over his shoulder like he weighed nothing. Blood drooled out of his mouth and down Caboose’s back. I stood, wanting to help, but there was nothing I could do.

  The Ministers and Hounds parted and let Mr. Pratt and Jack through. Caboose followed behind with Paco. Before they made it halfway across the yard, another guard met them and motioned for Caboose to put Paco down. Caboose ignored him and kept walking. The guard started to say something but didn’t. Soon they disappeared through the administration door.

  I fixed my eyes on Preston. He looked like he’d swallowed poison.

  34

  Jack was not at supper. Caboose came in late, got his food, and sat next to me.

  “This better work,” he mumbled.

  I looked at the Hound table. Tattoo was eyeing us. “I know,” I said. “I’m goin’ to the infirmary right after we eat.”

  “What do you need me to do?” he said.

  “Watch my back until you have to leave.”

  “Yours and Paco’s now.”

  “How bad is he hurt?” I asked.

  “Bad enough.”

  “Jack’s not here,” I said.

  “He’s prob’ly sleepin’ in Mr. Fraley’s guest bedroom.”

  “Are you serious?”

  Caboose cocked his eyes at me and didn’t answer.

  I slipped into the utility corridor just after supper. I flipped on the light and hurried toward the boiler room. I stopped long enough to grab the flashlight from its hiding place, then continued to the stairs.

  The room was more sinister than ever when I faced it alone in the darkness with the throbbing machines in my ears. I desperately wanted to turn on the lights, but remembered what Paco had told me. I shined the flashlight beam through the blue flicker and pressed forward.

  I finally came to the stairs and took them two at a time, eager to leave the boiler room behind. Soon I was walking the corridor and then I was at the door. I pressed my ear to it and heard nothing. Most of the guards were gone for the day. Only the floorwalker and the rec room guard would still be on duty. My only problem was the nurse. I hoped she wasn’t around.

  I cracked the door and looked out. The hall was empty. I set the flashlight down and found a slip of paper on the floor. I stepped out into the hall and shut the door behind me, placing the paper in the lock so that it wouldn’t engage.

  Three steps and I was able to peer into the window glass of the infirmary. I saw Paco lying in bed with bandages on his face and wrapped around his torso. He seemed to be sleeping. Otherwise, the room was empty. I opened the door and slipped in.

  The clipboard hung on the wall beside the bed and I reached up and pulled it down.

  “Hey, friend,” Paco croaked.

  I jumped at his voice and almost dropped the clipboard. “Damnit, Paco! You wanna give me a heart attack?”

  He tried to smile but jerked at the pain of it. “Do you have what you need?”

  I looked down at the report. It was almost a full page of writing. “It looks like it. You gonna make it?”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be all right. Make sure they put broken ribs on there.”

  I nodded.

  “You did good,” he said.

  “The hell. I’m gonna get Caboose to kick your ass over what you pulled.”

  Paco’s eyes grew wide with humor. “Get out of here,” he finally said.

  I tore the last carbon from the report and replaced the clipboard on the wall. I folded the paper and crammed it in my pocket. Then I nodded at Paco and he blinked his eyes slowly.

  I retraced my route back through the boiler room, up the cement steps at the other side, and through the utility corridor. I paused at the door and listened. The boys were in the rec room. The hall was silent. I opened the door, slipped out, and eased my back against it until the lock clicked. I hadn’t taken two steps before I heard a voice behind me.

  “Where have you been?”

  I spun around, my heart racing and blood rushing to my ears. There was Mr. Pratt. I didn’t know what he’d seen.

  “I asked you a question,” he sai
d.

  “I was in the bunk room.”

  “I just came from there, smart-ass. Where have you been?”

  “I mean, I was in the bunk room and then I had to use the restroom.”

  “Why didn’t you use the one in there?”

  I swallowed. “I don’t know. I just didn’t . . . I like the washroom better.”

  He studied me for what seemed like a long time. Then he glanced at the shirt pocket on my jumpsuit. I could feel the folded bulk of the report standing out against my chest.

  “What you got in there?” he said.

  “A letter.”

  By the way he studied it, you would think he was reading through the fabric. “You really think writin’ to her is gonna do any good?” he finally said.

  I took a deep breath. “Nossir.”

  He looked me in the eyes again. “You’re right. Now, get in your rack or go in the rec room with the other boys. You don’t just roam around here like you own the place.”

  “Yessir,” I said.

  I got back to the bunk room just in time to write my letter to Daddy.

  Dear Daddy,

  Get this to Mr. Wellington. This is very important. Tell him to get the copies of this report from the people at Hellenweiler. He will know what to do. Both of you have to trust me one last time.

  Love,

  Hal

  I stuffed the letter and the report into the envelope, addressed it, stamped it, and stuck it in my locker. Not a moment later, the boys started filing in. Caboose walked up and studied me. I nodded to him and he turned away and began getting undressed for showers. Then Preston walked past with a towel over his shoulder. He stopped and turned back to me like he had something to say. But Caboose was already there, looking down at him. Preston swallowed and left.

  I took my place next to Caboose at breakfast Friday morning. I faced the Ministers’ table and saw that Jack was still missing. His boys were rowdy and back to their old selves. Except for Preston. Worries weighed heavily on his mind and I could see him shrinking back into the wuss he used to be.

  A note was passed to me in the classroom.

  Hal, I need to talk to you. In private. Meet me in the confessional tonight.

  Preston

  I turned around in my desk and looked at him. Suddenly, he was the same pathetic whiner I knew back at Pinson. His eyes had gone soft and his face had the slack of a person living in dread of something awful about to come down on him.

  I crumpled the paper and let him watch it fall to the floor.

  That afternoon I waited for Caboose outside my classroom. It wasn’t long before the older boys were dismissed and he lumbered past. He twitched his finger for me to follow and I fell in behind him. When we walked onto the play yard Tattoo and the Hounds eyed us curiously from their court. But I wasn’t worried about them. They would leave me alone until they got through with Paco. The Ministers were what I was concerned about. They wanted me. I doubted they would try anything until Jack came on the yard, but I was sticking close to Caboose just in case.

  Caboose and I took our stand in his usual corner of the fence.

  “Who would you bet on between Tattoo and Paco?” I said.

  “Tattoo.”

  “Why didn’t Tattoo fight him before now?”

  “Paco intimidated him. But now he’s gone soft. And Tattoo knows it. And Tattoo is meaner.”

  “So it’s over for him with the Hounds, no matter what?”

  “Yes. Both of you are against this fence from now on.”

  “I’m gonna send the letter as soon as he gets out of the infirmary. We’ve got to make sure the nurse has given the clipboard to Mr. Pratt. They have to have time to change it or get rid of it or whatever they do. If my lawyer calls too soon, we’re busted.”

  “Don’t screw this up.”

  “I ain’t screwin’ it up. And we’re all gonna get through this. And you ain’t gonna do all that revenge you been goin’ on about. They’ll get what’s comin’ to ’em.”

  Caboose scratched the dirt with his toe and didn’t answer me.

  “You and Paco can start a lawn service or somethin’.”

  “What are you talkin’ about?”

  “Man, you can make some good money at that. My daddy did it for a while. Paco likes trees and stuff.”

  Caboose spit at the ground and rubbed it into the dust with his shoe. “I got nothin’ waitin’ on me. A whole lot of nothin’.”

  “What happened to your parents?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t know or don’t wanna talk about it?”

  “Just because Paco likes to sit and spout off his mumbo jumbo don’t mean I do. I’ve been in here plenty long enough to think about what I want when I leave, and some wet-behind-the-ears new boy ain’t gonna make me rethink it.”

  “Fine. But you still stuck your neck out for me down in the boiler room with Jack.”

  “Don’t let it go to your head. I lost the coin toss.”

  I sighed and slid down the fence to sit. “All right. I’ll shut up . . . Coin toss my butt.”

  Caboose looked at me. “Did he tell you?”

  “No, but it wasn’t no coin toss. I know that much.”

  35

  When Caboose and I entered the mess hall for supper, the Ministers’ table was frenzied. Jack was holding court. Then I noticed Preston sitting alone in no-man’s-land. He picked at his food and kept his head down. Someone from the Ministers’ table threw a dinner roll and it bounced off his shoulder.

  “We got company,” I told Caboose. He glanced at Preston and continued on through the food line.

  We took our seats a few chairs down from Preston and began to eat. I glanced at the Ministers and saw Jack staring at me. He slid his finger across his throat.

  “Jack doesn’t look like he lost much attitude in solitary,” I said.

  Caboose didn’t answer me.

  “You really think they let him stay somewhere else?”

  Caboose nodded slightly.

  “What are we gonna do about Preston?”

  “Let him get what’s comin’,” he mumbled.

  I looked over at Preston. He kept his head down. Finally I sighed. “Come on down here if you want,” I said to him.

  He hesitated for a moment, then picked up his tray and came to sit next to me. Caboose frowned.

  “Thanks,” Preston said.

  “Don’t thank me yet,” I said. “I haven’t made up my mind about you. Where’s Paco?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Yeah you do. You got your nose in everybody’s business.”

  Preston looked at the Ministers and swallowed nervously. “He went to solitary this afternoon.”

  Caboose and I exchanged a look.

  “You wanna be with us, Preston?”

  “Yeah,” he said.

  “Okay. But we got our own initiation.”

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t know yet. I’ll be thinkin’ about it. You better talk to somebody about transferrin’ to Chase’s old bed.”

  Preston gathered his bedding and personal items from the Ministers’ end of the bunk room after supper while Caboose lay on his bed and I sat on the floor beside him.

  “I ain’t watchin’ out for him,” Caboose said.

  “Don’t then. He’s no worse off for it.”

  “You’re soft.”

  “You are too, you just forgot.”

  Caboose didn’t say anything.

  “I’ll put that letter in the outgoin’ mail first thing in the mornin’.”

  That night I lay in my bunk listening for noises coming from seg. But I knew Paco wouldn’t utter a word. He was too strong. He’d lie there and die before he gave the guards any satisfaction.

  “I’m sorry for everything, Hal,” Preston whispered.

  “You’re scared. You’re not sorry.”

  “Quiet down there!” yelled the floorwalker.

  Saturday morning the three of us we
nt to breakfast together. In the hall was the basket for outgoing mail and I dropped the letter into it as we passed. It would normally take a day to get to Daddy, but mail didn’t run on Sunday so it might take two this time. Caboose would leave on Thursday. After that, Preston and I would be on our own and the Ministers would close in on us. There would be no help from Paco even if he got out of solitary. He had his own problems. Now that he had betrayed the Hounds, Tattoo and the rest of the dogs were waiting to punish him.

  “What’s your plan, Hal?”

  “Shut up, Preston.”

  Caboose let Preston and me stay next to him on the play yard. He stood the entire time while we sat on either side of his big legs. I tried to get him to talk, but he was somewhere far away in his head. If I asked him a question, sometimes he’d give me a short reply. Sometimes he wouldn’t answer at all. Preston knew he wasn’t invited to talk.

  “I’m gonna race cars one day, Caboose. Race on a dirt track. Even if I have to wait until I’m eighteen. You ever been to a dirt track?”

  No answer.

  “Man, it’s so loud you can feel the engines through your butt. You know, they slide around the turns. It’s not like asphalt. And they don’t have windshields. Get mud all over their face . . . I know I’d be good at it. I used to drive our truck around the clay pit, and I mean hammer-down drivin’. I could throw dirt fifty feet in third gear. Yeah, I could show them dirt racers. Don’t you have somethin’ you know you’d be good at?”

  No answer.

  “I dream about car engines and greasy nuts and bolts. Every time I think about jammin’ my foot down on a gas pedal it makes me grind my teeth together.”

  “I’ve been to a dirt-track race before,” Preston said.

  “Shut up, Preston . . . I’m tellin’ you, Caboose. I can rub my fingers together and feel the grease. It’s in me . . . You can make money doin’ it too. Imagine if that was your job—racin’. Man, what do you think about that?”

  Caboose moved his foot a little bit.