39

Once inside the gates, Ronnie and I sprinted for the nearest cover, which turned out to be a small, well-maintained flower garden just off the drive. We knelt behind thorny rosebushes and watched Mindy’s car disappear as she made her way around the bend and on up to the school.

A pickup truck materialized at the gate, and I squinted my eyes, but I couldn’t see who the driver was. I did note that it was a tan Silverado with local tags.

“What’s next, Earl?” Ronnie said.

I shook my head. I wasn’t sure if I should be angry at Ronnie for busting Mindy’s window or thank him. This was my natural state whenever Ronnie was around. His company pretty much ensured you’d be vacillating between utter frustration and complete awe, with a little gratitude thrown in for good measure.

“What?” he said.

I nodded at him. “That was quick thinking back there. I’m sorry about what I said. About you being a loose cannon.”

“Shit. I can’t think of nothing I’d rather be.”

I waited for the punchline, but then I realized he was completely sincere.

“Loooooose,” he howled a bit too loud for my taste. “Fucking looooooooose!”

I didn’t want to laugh. I tried not to. But in the end, it was just too much. I covered my mouth with my hand and gave in.

It felt good.

*   *   *

A few minutes later, we split up. Ronnie headed for a work shed we’d found on the right side of the school. He hoped to find his extension cord and create a way back in. I made my way around to the rear of the school, to the garden, and tried to find a way into the building so I could talk to some more boys, specifically Eddie. Either that or catch one of them outside. Failing both of those, I’d at least be able to take a look at the falls again. It might not help me figure anything out, but I had a powerful urge to visit them, to gaze across the ravine, to picture the place where so much had happened that was out of my reach now.

We agreed to meet at the gate in three hours at exactly 10:45. Anything more felt like we would just be pushing our luck.

“What if you’re late?” he said.

I shook my head, feeling increasingly frustrated. Wasn’t he supposed to be the loose cannon? “Then leave without me,” I said.

“You know I can’t do that.”

“You can and you will,” I said. “You have to promise me that, Ronnie.”

He shook his head. “Naw …”

I stopped walking. “I’m serious. You’ve already done time for me once. At some point, you have to take care of yourself. Promise me.”

“Sure, Earl. I promise.”

“Thank you.”

“See you in three hours,” he said, and began to jog toward the work shed. I watched him go, thinking how my life had so rarely gone like I’d expected it to. When I’d met Ronnie three years ago, I would have bet the pension I didn’t have that we’d never get along, that in fact I would always despise him. For about a year or so, I would have been looking good on that bet, but somewhere along the way, our relationship changed. I still wasn’t sure if it was me or Ronnie who had done the changing. Maybe both of us. Maybe neither. But something shifted and Ronnie had become like blood to me. I didn’t have to like him or tolerate him. I could curse him, even ignore him, but in the end, I needed him.

And maybe that wasn’t so bad. To need somebody. Sometimes I thought it might even be a good thing.

*   *   *

I headed to the garden at the rear of the school and immediately had to hit the ground when I saw Dr. Blevins standing outside the garden with one of the boys. They were about a hundred yards from me and I had no cover, so I simply hit the ground and lay as flat as I could.

Dr. Blevins had his hand on the boy’s shoulder and was talking to him with a serious expression on his face. The boy—tall, rangy, and dressed in the blue pants, blue shirt uniform—nodded along solemnly.

I watched as Blevins patted the boy’s shoulder and then removed his hand. The boy hesitated for just a moment and then stepped out of sight behind a large plant in the garden maze. Blevins followed him, and then I was alone, lying on the grass, the blazing sun hitting the back of my neck. I rose up slowly and looked around. Something caught my attention on the second floor. One of the boys was in the window, peering down at me. I stood, dusting my blue jeans off, and then lifted a hand to him. But there was no response. The boy was gone. The curtains were closed.

Knowing my time was limited, I skirted the edge of the garden, and before reaching the entrance, I hoisted myself up on the stone wall and climbed over. I could hear voices as I dropped down behind a pot of large purple flowers.

It sounded like Blevins.

“She’s going to meet you in twenty minutes. It’s out of my hands now. Harden has stepped in.”

There was no answer. I slipped out from behind the flowers and crept a little closer. A row of small trees separated me from Blevins now. I could see the back of his shoulders, his shiny bald pate reflecting the bright sun. I couldn’t see if he was talking to the same boy or a different one.

“See,” Blevins said, “this is what I’m talking about.”

“What?” the boy said, his voice a high whine.

“What?” Blevins mocked, cruelly imitating the boy’s high pitch. “To be a man, to be straight, you have to believe it first. You can’t believe it if you keep talking like that. Talk like a man. I’ve studied this stuff. How do you think I cured myself?”

“Okay,” the kid said.

“Say it again. This time like you’re a man.”

The kid said what again, this time with a gruffness that was almost comical.

Blevins said, “Just remember. Think like a man, talk like a man, and men like women. It’s science.”

There was no response.

“You got it?”

“I got it.” The reply was deep, more resonant than before. I could see Blevins’s shoulders relax. He was pleased.

“You better get on over there.”

“I’m scared.”

“Of course you are. It’s normal. What you’re about to do is the most natural thing in the world. God designed it. God wants this for you.”

“I heard she gets mad if you don’t …”

“Don’t think about messing up. Just …” Blevins patted the boy’s shoulder gently. “Look, sometimes I have to get myself started by thinking about …”

“About what?”

“A fantasy.”

“But, that means …”

“Just try it. Then when you’re ready, you’ll see what you’re missing out on.”

“Will there really be cameras?”

“Don’t worry about that.”

That was when I saw Dr. Blevins do something that truly disturbed me. He reached a hand to the boy’s face and caressed it like a lover might, his hand lingering near the boy’s ear. It took all I had to keep from charging him right then and there.

Then the moment was over, and Blevins’s hand was back by his side. “Go,” he said. “I’ll be there with you.”

A moment later, I saw a different boy walk past me and toward the garden exit. This boy was pudgy and thick. Not fat, not exactly. His belly was flat, but he was chunky in other places—his face, his arms, his thighs. He had ruddy cheeks and light-brown hair.

He left the garden. I waited, staying perfectly still, listening to see what Blevins would do.

For a second, I didn’t hear anything and I thought perhaps he was waiting me out too, that somehow he’d become aware of my presence and was biding his time to see what I’d do next. But then I heard his voice.

“Hey,” he said. “Heath’s on his way.” I looked through the branches of the trees and saw him talking on a cell phone.

He nodded, listening to the person on the other end. Then he said, “Where? On the big rock.”

The person on the other end said something else, and Blevins responded with a quick, “All right, copy that.”

He walked off, heading toward the school.

I waited as long as I dared and then slipped out of the garden toward the lawn and the forest of trees that would lead me to the waterfall.