Dirt Road Home Read online

  “What are we waitin’ on, Preston?”

  “We have to make sure the hall is empty.”

  “You think there’s enough time for me to bloody you up a little? I mean, what have I got to lose now, right?”

  Preston took a step back and his hands began to tremble. “That’s against the rules,” he said. “This is Jack’s fight.”

  “That’s right. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t want to come between you and your friend Jack. I’ll bet one day when you two are out of here he’s gonna invite you over to his house for dinner just about every night. Heck, I bet he names his first child after you.”

  Preston didn’t answer. He stepped wide around me and peered out the door. After a moment he motioned for me to follow.

  We continued down the hall toward the rec room, where I heard the normal commotion of the boys playing pool and watching television. We hadn’t gone far when Preston stopped before the door to a maintenance closet. He took a key from his pocket and unlocked the door and motioned for me to go inside. I stepped past him and he shut the door behind us and locked it and turned on the light. I could see that the room was really not a closet at all, but a long, narrow passageway lined with shelves of supplies. It must have gone back at least fifty feet.

  “Turn around and put your arms in the air,” Preston said.

  I faced him. “Like hell.”

  “I’ve gotta pat you down.”

  “You touch me and I’ll knock your teeth out.”

  Preston didn’t say anything for a moment. Finally he said, “You don’t have any weapons on you, do you?”

  “Where would I get a weapon?”

  He studied me. “Okay,” he finally said. “Start walkin’.”

  I turned and started toward the back of the room. When we reached the wall there was another passageway that opened to my right. The ceiling was lined with water pipes and electrical conduit.

  “Keep goin’,” Preston said.

  I kept on through the narrow passage for another fifty feet until I came to cement stairs. At the bottom of the stairs was darkness that flickered a pale blue like heat lightning. In its depths machinery hissed and groaned. The boiler room. I started down.

  Preston told me there would be a light switch on the wall at the bottom. At the base of the stairs I faced the flickering light and felt my shoes slap into a puddle. The sweet smell of damp rust and propane fell over me. I found the light switch and flipped it on, and the boiler room was before me. It was a giant, wet basement that must have extended under most of Hellenweiler. Pipes and wires covered most of the low ceiling. Steel columns were spaced throughout the room, supporting the ceiling. Giant hot water heaters sat against one wall, rusty and fired with blue gas flames that caused the room to flicker. Several other machines groaned and clanked at the far end of the room where the light didn’t reach. Suddenly the fear I’d been holding back seeped into my gut and I felt sick.

  I took a few steps, faced Preston, and drew a deep breath. I knew I probably looked scared but I didn’t have it in me to look any other way.

  “No turnin’ back now,” he said.

  “I guess not. Let’s get this over with.”

  Preston turned and started back up the stairs.

  17

  For a minute I just stared at the cement steps leading out of the boiler room. My mind was blank and the sounds of the machinery had turned to a steady thrumming in my ears. Then I took another deep breath through my nose and turned and studied the room. I walked about fifteen feet farther and looked for anything that might help me, but it was all a tangle of wires and pipes and darkness and rust and confusion. No one would hear what happened down here. And who knew how long it would take for a person to be found. I suddenly remembered the shiv and bent down and pulled it from my sock and stuck it in my back pocket. You can’t use it, I said to myself. What are you thinking? You’re just going to have to fist-fight him. He can’t kill you. You can live through broken bones.

  I heard him coming down the steps. It didn’t seem like it had been five minutes, but there was no way to tell. I saw his feet and then the rest of him, step by step, until his shoes slapped onto the wet floor. His face was twitching with excitement, but he wasn’t smiling. I could imagine the hornets buzzing in his head.

  “Hey, Jack,” I said.

  He didn’t answer me.

  “Listen, I—”

  “Shut up.”

  He took another step toward me and cracked his knuckles. “You know what happened to the last guy I met down here?”

  “No.”

  “They found him curled up over by that wall.”

  “I bet you’re a lot of talk too.”

  “We’ll see, won’t we?”

  “What’s it gonna prove—you fightin’ a new boy?”

  “I’ll fight anybody that disrespects me.”

  “What about Paco? You think he respects you? He thinks you’re a coward.”

  “Hell with Paco.”

  “I wanna see you say that to his face.”

  “I don’t have to deal with Paco. I don’t have to deal with lots of things. You see, I know how Hellenweiler works. Not just the gangs, but the guards too. I’ve bought dirt on this place. I’ll do just enough time to get by and they’ll let me out. If they don’t, I got people on the outside that’ll speed things up. But you’re gonna have to rot in this dog kennel.”

  “Yeah, what kinda dirt you got?”

  “You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?”

  “Yeah, I would.”

  “Let’s just say I can hurt you all I want and nobody outside of Hellenweiler will ever know a thing.”

  “You’re that special, huh?”

  “Oh, it has nothin’ to do with me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why don’t you stop stallin’ and take this like a man?”

  I felt my temper rising, and for once I was glad to feel it again. It welled up from my chest and smothered away any fear I’d had. This whole situation seemed like the biggest waste of anger and time and life I could imagine.

  “I’ve never known people like you that didn’t have it comin’,” I said. “Sooner or later. Maybe I don’t bring it, but somebody will.”

  “I spit on people like you.”

  “Well,” I said, “I don’t have a damn bit of respect for you either. Let’s get this over with so I can curl up against that wall and get my ride out of here. I got people on the outside too. And I guarantee they can get drunker and meaner than your people. And their spit smells worse.”

  Jack took a step toward me. “Come on,” he said. “You’re not just gonna lay down on me, are you?”

  “I ain’t layin’ down. I’m gonna make you earn every bit of this.”

  “Come on, then.”

  “Waitin’ on you.”

  Then I saw his eyes go deep and calm. This was something he was savoring. He reached into his back pocket and his hand came away with a screwdriver. He held it low and put one foot before the other and rocked back and forth like someone about to sprint.

  “Put it up,” I said.

  But I could tell in his eyes he was committed. Then I saw his arms tense and I knew it was coming. Without thinking about it, I went for the shiv just as he launched toward me.

  When the lights went out, I was diving sideways. I felt the brush of Jack’s body against me and heard him stumble and slide across the floor. I quickly got to my knees and searched the darkness for him. The blue light flickered and I saw him sitting up and staring at the staircase.

  “What the—?” he said.

  But there was no one there. Whoever had flipped off the lights had done it from somewhere else.

  Jack stood and took a step toward the stairs. “Who’s there?” he said.

  But there was no reply. Just the sounds of the machines.

  I tightened my grip on the shiv and started to stand. Before I could rise, another figure slipped out of the darkness behind Jack and pulled him to th
e floor. The room was suddenly filled with screaming. I backed against the cement wall in confusion. The blue flickering of the gas flames occasionally lit up the room enough for me to see the two dark shapes struggling not far from me. The sound of the machinery droned on and the two figures rose and fell and rolled like something displayed in a weak strobe light. The only human sounds were coming from Jack and they were nothing I could make out, only grunting and an occasional whimper of pain.

  Then, after a few seconds of darkness, there was only one body left on the floor. I leaped up and ran for the stairs, feeling every hair on my neck standing at the thought of what was behind me. Whoever—whatever had attacked Jack. I took the steps two at a time and never looked back. When I got to the top, I threw the shiv on the floor and kept running. When I came to the door leading into the hall, I stopped and spun around and looked behind me. There was nothing. “Paco, you crazy Mexican,” I said aloud.

  * * *

  I stood leaning with my forehead against the maintenance room door, catching my breath. The hall beyond was silent. I heard the boys in the rec room through the walls to my right and the faint plinking of dishes coming from the kitchen on my left. After a few minutes I opened the door and stepped out.

  The hall seemed empty. Then I looked down at the entrance to the rec room and Preston stared at me with horror on his face. I locked eyes with him until he stepped out of sight. I shut the maintenance closet door and made for my bunk.

  The floorwalker was gone. I lay on my bed and took deep breaths and replayed what had happened in the basement. But the whole scene was a blue, flickering nightmare that made no sense.

  Later on, the floorwalker returned and the boys began filing in. The Ministers each had to pass by me to get to their end of the room. I didn’t look at them, but I could feel their stares. Then I turned over and looked down at Paco’s bunk. He was undressing at the foot of it. Just when I thought he wasn’t going to acknowledge me, he turned his head and nodded and went back to what he was doing.

  Caboose came in a few minutes later and rolled into his bed, the mattress springs creaking. I cocked my eyes at him but he paid me no attention.

  That night no one came to talk to me. No one called me names. No one moved around much at all. I’d never seen the place so quiet.

  “Where’s number eighty-six?” I heard the floorwalker yell. That was Jack’s number. No one spoke up.

  “Where is eighty-six!” he yelled again.

  Silence.

  The floorwalker marched out of the room. A moment later I heard the guards rushing down the hall, locking the place down.

  Next morning. I got in line for the showers. No one was speaking. I kept my eyes down and went through the routine of washing myself and returning to my bunk to get dressed. As I pulled on my jumpsuit, I noticed that Caboose was still in bed. His eyes were open and he seemed to be studying the underside of the top bunk. It was far past time for all the boys to be up and done with showers.

  While I was making my bed, Mr. Pratt entered at the far end of the bunk room. He came our way, making his usual inspection walk. When he got to Caboose’s bed, he stopped.

  “On your feet, seventy-two!”

  I continued making the bed, watching them in my periphery. Caboose didn’t move. Mr. Pratt took a step toward him. “Christ,” he said. I turned and saw him pull the radio from his belt. “John,” he said, “I need a couple of guys to help me get seventy-two to the infirmary. We’re in the bunk room. Hurry up.”

  I looked at Caboose’s bed. I’d been on the other side of him earlier and hadn’t noticed the blood staining his bedsheet and the entire side of his shirt.

  18

  We were all sent to breakfast early. When I was walking in the hall, I saw two guards rushing past with a stretcher. I turned and looked back at Paco. He studied me and made no expression.

  I went to no-man’s-land alone with my food. Leroy came first. He sat beside me and began eating without a word. Then the rest of them came, one by one. Until the entire table was filled with silent Ministers bent over their trays. At one point I looked up and glanced over my shoulder. Preston was the only one left. He kept his head down and ate alone.

  “You’re the leader now, Hal,” Leroy said.

  I didn’t answer him.

  When the buzzer sounded I took my tray and returned it. I headed for the recess yard and sensed them behind me. I stepped out into the sunlight and kept on until I was halfway to the fence. I saw the Hounds filing off toward their court on the right. When I stopped, the rest of the Ministers stopped. I turned and faced them. “That fence over there is my fence,” I said. “Anybody that follows me is goin’ to the boiler room.”

  “You don’t have to stand by the fence anymore, Hal,” Leroy said. “You can stay with us.”

  I ignored him. “Where’s Preston?”

  “He said he won’t join us,” one of the boys said.

  “Go get the key to the boiler room from him. Put it under my pillow when we go back in. I keep it now.”

  “Then what should we do about him?”

  “I figure he’s got three places to go and he’s gonna get his ass kicked in two of ’em. What you do with him is up to you.”

  Leroy looked at me with confusion. “What about us, Hal?”

  “I don’t know, Leroy. You guys figure it out without me.”

  I turned and left them.

  I leaned against the fence and slid down it. I drew my knees up and studied the yard. The Ministers stood idle, talking among themselves, watching the Hounds. Preston appeared and stood near the entrance door next to Mr. Pratt.

  I began to take the pieces of my situation and place them together. Caboose was the mysterious person in the boiler room. He did something to Jack and now both of them were hurt. I didn’t know if Jack had been found. I didn’t know if Paco was involved, but now he was the recognized leader of the entire yard and I felt safe for the time being. At least until Jack could tell everyone what had really happened. If he could tell them.

  Paco came strolling toward me with the rest of the Hounds watching. He stood over me for a moment and then slid down the fence beside me.

  “I didn’t think you could be seen with me,” I said.

  “But we are equals now,” he said. “We are two generals at a meeting.”

  “I don’t have an army.”

  “So you say. But it doesn’t matter. You have earned your respect. For the time being, you are untouchable.”

  I looked at him. I could tell. “You know what happened down there, don’t you?”

  “That doesn’t matter either.”

  “So what’s next?”

  “Today we sit here on the hill and watch. Like good generals.”

  “Watch what?”

  Paco gazed across the yard. Finally he said, “I had a friend on the outside. His father was a forester. One day he told me a story of how a big storm came through the woods and a violent wind tossed the tall pines back and forth all night. The next month, they found beetles in these trees that had always been healthy. You see, the timber was hurt. As you know, the inside of a tree is made of rings, each ring representing one year of growth. All of the tossing back and forth tore the bond between these rings in a process called delamination. The beetles are able to eat into a delaminated tree much easier. But the question was this: How did the beetles know the trees were wounded when they could not see the wounds?”

  “I don’t know, Paco.”

  “It is very interesting. You see, trees, like every animal, give off heat when they are sick. Just like you grow hot with fever. Lions can sense this in sick animals and they choose them to prey upon. The beetles sensed this as well.”

  “What do sick trees have to do with anything?”

  Paco still stared across the yard. “Look at the Ministers. They are sick. And the dogs are sniffing them.”

  I studied the play yard, taking in both sides. I noticed there was a subtle tension building. The Ministers
stood loose and idle on their basketball court. The Hounds were gathered in a tight group, talking among themselves and sneaking glances at their enemy.

  “We are about to see something here,” Paco said. “Something that has not been seen since Caboose took the fence a year ago.”

  “Caboose?”

  He put his finger to his lips. “Watch,” he said.

  Mr. Pratt knew what was about to happen. There was no way he couldn’t have seen it coming. But he turned his back and stepped inside the main building. When the door shut behind him, the group of huddled Hounds came apart and made a line, shoulder to shoulder. My eyes snapped over to the Ministers. Only one or two of them were watching the scene unfold, and even those seemed puzzled.

  “They don’t even know,” I said.

  “Lambs,” Paco replied.

  The Hounds began walking, the outside boys going a little faster so that a half circle was formed. Most of their prey would fall like fish into the center of the net and the strays would be caught by the wingmen. The arc made half the distance before the Ministers’ expressions turned to looks of alarm. And the Hounds seemed to know it was time.

  They didn’t utter a sound as they rushed forward. All I heard was the dull digging of their rubber soles in the dry dust and the screaming of the Ministers. It was a blur of chaos and confusion as the Hounds descended on their cowering prey. My overall impression was of scar-banded wrists rising and falling in the midst of a dust storm. I watched with my mouth open and Paco silent beside me.

  It seemed like the attack lasted for ten minutes but it was probably no more than two before Mr. Pratt swung open the door to the main building. He watched the scene patiently, tapping a nightstick against his palm. Finally he stepped down onto the yard. Behind him came three more guards, each of them with his own club. The men approached and entered the tangle of screaming boys. Then I saw their sticks rising and falling and caught glimpses of their faces, jaws clenched and eyes narrowed at the pleasure of what they dealt. I heard grunts of pain and more yelling. Boys began scattering in all directions. A few of them came against the fence not far from us and collapsed, their clothes torn and their faces covered in blood and dirt.