Blank Page II

When I come back to my cell

from the visiting room

there’s a notebook

and a box of pencils

on my desk in my cell

There’s a juice box

and a bag of potato chips

on my desk in my cell

There’s a letter

from Zenobia

on my desk in my cell

I sit on my bed

and stare at those things

as if it’s a trick

as if they’re poison

but I want them so bad

so bad

So I start with the letter

Dear Amal,

Thanks for the drawing. It’s really good. I mean, everybody at school knew you were a dope artist. You forgot to sign your drawing. It’ll be worth a lot of money one day. For real. But I’m not going to sell this. I’m framing it and hanging it up in my room.

I heard what they said about you at your trial. People are talking about what Ms. Rinaldi did and it’s really messed up. They should’ve asked one of your friends to be a character witness. I would have done it. I know your character.

You probably don’t want to write about what it’s like in there and what you’re going through. But if you do, I’m here. I’ll always write back. Keep your head up.

Zenobia

PS I’m glad you remember me, too. . . .

I fold the letter and

hold it against my chest

where the brick is

where the building is

where the city is

These letters from Zenobia

are putting me back

together again

I slip the letter between the

pages of the notebook

and grab a few pencils

and wait to be let out

for free time in the dayroom

Kadon and the other corners are

at another table

and I don’t sit with them on purpose

I want to be alone here

I don’t even get a chance to open my notebook

when Officer Stanford comes to look over my shoulder

Shahid, is all he says

I start with a line

Amal Shahid, he says

I draw another line, then a box

I don’t look up

but he’s hovering

like a shadow

like Tattoo

except his arms are clean

You been quiet, he says

Staying out of trouble

It’s almost like

you ain’t supposed to be here

I’m not, I mumble

It’s not up to me, he says

But for now, I see you, Shahid

Keep your head up and head down

at the same time, feel me?

I look up at him

I look into his eyes this time

and maybe

he’s trying to play me

like when I was getting off the bus

So I stare back at him

and wait for

pain

But

Stay low, stay cool, he says

and walks away

and I wonderI wonder

if anybody else sees what he sees

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