Once inside, the woman handed Jeremy some orange pants and an orange pullover shirt. The pants had an elastic waistline. Neither garment had any pockets.
“There is a restroom around the corner,” the woman explained as she motioned to the right. “Go in there and put these clothes on. This is what you will wear while you are staying here.”
Jeremy walked out the back of the entryway and turned to the right. It opened into a hallway that ran the length of the building. Just to the left was a door that Jeremy correctly surmised was the restroom. He pushed the door open, walked in, and changed into the orange outfit. Then he scooped up his clothes in his left arm and walked back out into the hallway, where the woman was waiting for him. She was holding a yellow plastic glass of water and a pill.
“We know you have had an exhausting day,” said the woman. She was trying to sound empathetic, though Jeremy had his doubts. “Take this pill,” she advised. “It will help you sleep better.”
Jeremy realized that at this point, he had no choice but to cooperate. Perhaps things would get better if he did. He promptly put the pill in his mouth, washing it down with the glass of water. Then he handed the glass back to the woman. She took a dark crayon and put the letters “JV” on it.
“This will be your glass,” she explained. “Now I will take you to your room.”
She led Jeremy down the opposite end of the hallway, where, to the right, there was an upward flight of stairs. She and Jeremy proceeded up the stairs to another hallway on the second floor. Doors lined both sides of this hallway. She led Jeremy slightly more than halfway down the hallway and opened a door on the right. Inside was a fairly large, plump man sitting on a cot. He was wearing blue-and-black-striped pajamas. Another cot was located at the far end of the room beneath a window. Both cots had a sheet and a pillow, complete with pillowcase.
“This is where you will sleep,” instructed the woman, motioning to the cot beneath the window. “Arthur here will be your roommate. He will help you.”
Wondering how much Arthur would really help him, Jeremy compliantly walked over to his assigned cot. The woman closed the door behind him. Not hearing any kind of a lock, Jeremy deduced that the door could not be locked. Jeremy’s suspicions were confirmed when Arthur moved his cot in front of the door, blocking it. Not only would the door not lock, but Arthur would make sure he stayed in the room.
Wanting to enjoy some of the crisp fall night air, Jeremy attempted to open the window. But it would not budge.
“You’re not the only person that window was nailed shut for,” Arthur growled in a deep voice.
With that, Jeremy just slumped down on the cot, rested his head on the pillow, and pulled the sheet over him. It was nowhere near as comfortable as the bed in his home, but Jeremy was so tired he would settle for it. Within minutes, Jeremy fell asleep. The pill had its desired effect.
It was after ten o’clock when Jeremy woke up the next morning. Arthur was sitting on his cot, still blocking the door. He was wearing the traditional Virginia military uniform. When Arthur noticed that Jeremy was awake, he stepped over to Jeremy’s cot and handed him a stack of four round, crisp, bread-like objects that were yellowish in color, about three inches in diameter. He also handed Jeremy the plastic glass with his initials on it, which was filled with victory juice.
“I was told to give you these. This is your breakfast.”
Jeremy quickly scarfed down the victory juice and the bread-like objects, which had practically no taste at all. It seemed like way too little food considering how hungry he was. He had not eaten since breakfast yesterday. Then Arthur shoved his cot away from the door. “OK,” he said. “Go downstairs. Mrs. Kaiser would like to speak with you.”
Arthur escorted Jeremy downstairs. He led Jeremy through the first door on the left of the downstairs hallway, which was just a few feet from the base of the stairs. It opened to a kitchen. Inside was a slender, dark-haired man, also wearing a Virginia military uniform, whom Jeremy estimated was in his twenties, sitting at a rectangular table in the middle of the room. When Jeremy and Arthur walked into the kitchen, the man instantly got up and left the room, exiting through a door on the far side of the kitchen that opened to the same hallway.
Jeremy and Arthur both sat at the table, with Jeremy on the side facing away from the hallway doors. Arthur sat at the end, on Jeremy’s left. Neither one spoke. Jeremy tried not to notice how closely Arthur was watching him as he carefully examined the kitchen. The table, with its cream-colored linoleum top, had one seat on each side. It could comfortably accommodate four people. The four chrome-colored metal table legs all had noticeable rust spots.
The four chairs did not even match the table. Jeremy was sitting on a gray folding chair that had been painted over several times, with visible pockmarks where rust spots had been. Arthur was sitting on a wooden chair that had been painted light yellow. Its back consisted of wooden beams that connected to an arch. When he walked in, Jeremy noticed that one of the back beams was missing. The chair on his right was the only one that looked like a kitchen chair, with two metal beams reaching up from the seat to support a pale green plastic-covered back. A large patch of the plastic was missing, revealing the dirty white padding underneath. The chair across from Jeremy did not even look like much of a chair. It looked like somebody had sawed up some two-by-fours, nailed them together to form something that could be sat upon, and then painted it pale yellow to go with the kitchen.
Straight ahead of Jeremy was a white porcelain kitchen sink. Above it was a window that provided a view of the backyard. The wooden cupboards that went all around the opposite and right sides of the room were also painted pale yellow. On the far-left side of the room was a door with a window in it that Jeremy presumed led to a back porch. The walls were all painted the same shade of pale yellow as the cupboards and the odd-looking chair. The counters were all bare. The small, white refrigerator on the right side of the opposite wall looked out of place, as if something larger belonged there. At least the room seemed reasonably clean.
While he was examining the room, Jeremy glanced over at Arthur a couple of times. Jeremy noticed that Arthur’s gaze was always fixed upon him, as if he were ready to pounce at the slightest false move. Jeremy tried to remain as motionless as possible, remaining silent as he examined the kitchen.
After about five arduously slow minutes, the woman who had met Jeremy at the front door the night before walked in. Jeremy quickly surmised that she must be Mrs. Kaiser. She promptly seated herself on the seat at Jeremy’s right.
“Good morning, Mr. Voorhies,” she began in a calm but firm voice. “You have already been told why you were sent here. Our job is to see that you repay your debt to the state and to help rehabilitate you so that you will remain a productive Virginian. Last night Captain McLeod expressed confidence that you can be rehabilitated. That is why you were sent here. Your friend, who was more badly corrupted, has been dealt with via sterner measures. While you are here, you must do everything you are told. Failure to do so will result in strict disciplinary action. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” replied Jeremy, concerned about what he might be told to do.
“All right. Because of your age, arrangements have been made for you to attend a local high school. Transportation has been arranged for you. You are to meet this van immediately after breakfast every morning. You must also meet this van immediately after your last class, at which time you will be brought back here. Both bedtime and waking-up time will be strictly observed. Do you have any questions?”
“Just one, ma’am. How soon will I be able to see my folks?”
“Your parents have been informed of your situation. You will get to see them when it is deemed appropriate. Much will depend upon how well you behave here. You have committed a very serious violation of the law. Stern measures must be taken.”
“Understood,” acknowledged Jeremy, now realizing that this would be no easy place to live.
“Your first assignment today is to go to the reading room. You are to stay there and read until lunchtime. Arthur, escort Voorhies to the reading room.”
Arthur obediently got up and led Jeremy out the door to the hallway. They walked down to the opposite end of the hall, where it ended with a door to the right. Arthur opened that door and motioned for Jeremy to enter. Jeremy complied, with Arthur following and closing the door behind him.
The reading room was large and spacious, taking up most of the main floor to the right of the entryway in front of the hall. Three windows, two facing out front and one to a side yard, provided ample sunlight. There were no chairs inside. Half a dozen young men, dressed in orange, like Jeremy, were sitting on the floor, scattered about the room with their backs to the walls. Each one was reading, or at least seemed to be reading, a book or a magazine. Jeremy estimated that their ages ranged from slightly older than himself to their mid-thirties. The only piece of furniture was a round, wooden coffee table at the center of the room. Several more books and magazines were on top of it.
While Arthur stood with three other uniformed men near the doorway, Jeremy walked over to the coffee table and started examining the books and magazines. As he expected, each one promoted the greatness of Virginia and General Krakowski. Picking up a magazine called Richmond Diary, Jeremy walked over to the far wall, across the room from the side window, sat on the floor, and opened the magazine.
Jeremy was not the least bit interested in reading this magazine. But he knew he had to pretend he was reading it. While his eyes remained focused on the inside of the magazine, he could tell that the four uniformed men were watching him and the other men in the room very carefully. Sometimes he could tell they were whispering something to each other, though he could not hear what they were saying. The only other sound audible in the room was the occasional turning of pages. Jeremy occasionally turned pages too, just to help make it look better.
While he was pretending to read, Jeremy’s thoughts wandered to just about anything but the magazine. The only way out of the room was through that door, which was guarded by four men. Jeremy figured that the windows in this room were nailed shut, just like the one in his room. Perhaps the seven men in the room could overpower their four guards, but Mrs. Kaiser would probably be able to summon more help very quickly. Nobody could dare try to escape. Jeremy wondered if these other men were pretending to read, just like he was.
Jeremy also thought about things back home. How must his mother and father be feeling? What about his brother and sister? Would he ever see them again? If so, when? Word of his misdeed would probably get around the school quickly the next day. He doubted he would ever have the acceptance he had there before. But then, Jeremy was not sure he would even ever attend that school again. Any hope of dating Cynthia Sullivan was gone. So was any hope of attending Virginia Military Institute. But Jeremy was no longer interested in serving in Virginia’s army anyway. What did the future hold? Where would he go? What would he do?
Naturally, Jeremy was also concerned about Vince. He had received a harsher punishment. Based upon the blank look that Vince had given him in the hospital, Jeremy was worried about what might have befallen him. What was Vince doing now? What would his future hold?
At twelve o’clock there was a knock on the door. One of the uniformed men opened it. “It’s lunchtime!” announced the man after getting word from the person who had knocked. All seven of the orange-clad prisoners got up from the floor, put their reading materials back on the coffee table, and walked emotionlessly out the door. Arthur waited until the last one was out, then closed the door behind him. Like seven sheep being herded by four dogs, they walked down to the kitchen, not speaking a word. Jeremy also noticed that he could not smell anything coming from the kitchen.
Once inside the kitchen, the four uniformed men sat around the table. The prisoners stood along the near wall, facing the kitchen-sink area. Mrs. Kaiser stood near the back door.
“Jones, food. Wilson, cups. Carlson, juice,” Mrs. Kaiser ordered. Three of the prisoners quickly walked over to the cupboards and refrigerator. One of them got plastic glasses out of a cupboard just above and to the right of the sink. Checking the initials on each glass, he first put the guards’ glasses, which were larger than the prisoners’, in front of each guard. Then he handed each prisoner his respective glass, setting three glasses on a counter, which Jeremy concluded belonged to the three men whom Mrs. Kaiser had ordered. Another man got a pitcher of victory juice out of the refrigerator and began pouring it into the glasses.
The third man first got about a half a loaf of brownish bread out of a cupboard and set it on the table. Then he got two packages and a bottle out of the refrigerator. One package contained about a half a head of lettuce. The other contained a few small, sliced-up tomatoes. The bottle contained some dark yellow sauce. He likewise placed these items on the table. As soon as the items were on the table, the guards quickly took slices of the bread, put the sauce on them, and made sandwiches with the lettuce and tomato. They dug into their meal very quickly.
Finally, Jones got into a cupboard near where Mrs. Kaiser was standing. Inside were several stacks of the yellowish bread-like objects that Jeremy had been served for breakfast. They were just stacked, with no kind of packaging. Jones quickly counted out six of the round objects for each prisoner and then handed each prisoner his ration.
As soon as Jeremy had his food and victory juice, he quickly began eating his meal. He held the glass in his right hand and the bread-like objects in his left. To get solid food, he would raise his left hand to his mouth and take a bite. For a drink, he would raise his right hand to his mouth. His fellow prisoners, who were now all standing along the wall, were eating similarly.
Bland though it was, at least he had some nourishment. The food the guards had on the table looked more palatable, though it made his meals back home look like banquets. Jeremy was tempted to ask the guards if he could have some of their food, but he did not dare. None of the other prisoners were making that request, so Jeremy figured it was forbidden.
During the meal, crumbs from the prisoners’ food frequently dropped to the floor. But none of them dared bend down to retrieve any of it. Crumbs from the guards’ food would drop onto the table, but they would retrieve and eat some of the larger crumbs. The whole time, Mrs. Kaiser kept careful watch on the prisoners.
Whenever a prisoner finished eating, he would stand in place as if waiting for further instructions. Jeremy did likewise. As the guards finished eating, they remained seated. Soon the food, both the prisoners’ and the guards’, had been eaten.
“Voorhies, you have cleanup duty,” Mrs. Kaiser announced after everyone was done eating. Jeremy remained in the room while the guards and other prisoners filed out. Jeremy presumed they were headed back to the reading room.
Mrs. Kaiser opened a lower cupboard near where she had been standing to reveal some rags, a dustpan, and a badly worn broom with about half of the handle broken off.
Jeremy tried to move quickly but silently as he first wiped off the kitchen table, then swept the crumbs off the floor. The two meals that he had eaten at this house both consisted of the same items, which had hardly satisfied his cravings. He wondered if he was ever going to get anything else, at least while he was staying here. Jeremy felt tempted to open the refrigerator to see if he could get any food out of there, or to reach up into that cupboard to get more of those round items that he had decided to call bread chips. But Mrs. Kaiser was watching him too closely.
Then Jeremy considered the bread chips themselves. They were sitting stacked up in a cupboard with no packaging whatsoever. What kind of pests could help themselves to those chips? Mice, perhaps cockroaches? This was not sounding like a healthy place to eat. Then Jeremy noticed something else disturbing about this kitchen. It did not have a stove. That meant that all the meals here would probably be raw, more likely bread chips and victory juice than anything. Jeremy certainly did not savor that realization.
Jeremy thought about the stern Mrs. Kaiser standing by the back door. He could easily overpower this middle-aged woman. But the door was probably locked. Even if he could get a key, it would not take Mrs. Kaiser long to get help. He had no chance of escaping that way. Mrs. Kaiser and her guards were probably used to having prisoners who wanted to escape. Therefore, while this may not be a jail, at least they would take precautions to make escape difficult.
“There is a wastebasket underneath the sink,” Mrs. Kaiser advised Jeremy as he finished sweeping up the crumbs. Jeremy opened that cupboard and dumped the crumbs into a small, brass-colored metal wastebasket that had several noticeable rust spots. Then he put the rags, dustpan, and broom back into the cupboard where they had been stored.
“Now, Major Kaiser would like to have a word with you.” Mrs. Kaiser led Jeremy down the hall to a room across from the reading room. Just inside this room was a wooden desk that faced out toward the room’s only window. Nothing was on the desk. In fact, the only other items in the room were a swivel chair situated behind the desk, and a folding chair just opposite, facing toward the desk. Reasoning that he was supposed to sit in the folding chair, Jeremy walked around the desk and sat down in the folding chair, wondering grimly what would happen next.
Momentarily a man with thinning gray hair combed neatly to one side, who was wearing thick glasses and a gray Virginia military uniform, walked in. Metal gold leaves were on both of his shoulders, indicating his rank as a major. He was holding a sheaf of papers. Jeremy quickly stood up in a rigorous position of attention.
“At ease,” said Major Kaiser as he took his seat behind the desk. Jeremy nervously sat back in the folding chair, wondering what the major wanted to discuss with him.
Holding the sheaf of papers in front of him, the major began. “You were reading the Richmond Diary this morning. Tell me what you learned.”
Having not really read any of the magazine that morning, Jeremy knew he could be in for a tough grilling. “Nothing that I did not already know,” Jeremy bluffed. “We all know that Virginia is the finest place in the world.”
“Be more specific. Which article did you read?”
“The first one.”
“And what was this article about?”
“It was a fascinating article,” Jeremy said, trying to sound excited as he looked into the major’s eyes. “It was all about how Richmond was going to become a great worldwide financial and political center. All the world would envy Richmond.”
“What else did it have to say?”
“It had all these big, fancy, futuristic buildings,” explained Jeremy, thinking of some of the pictures he had seen in the magazine. “Someday, that is how Richmond will look. Ultramodern and really neat.”
“Did it say anything about the RSNA?”
“It said that the whole RSNA, along with all of English-speaking North America, would become part of Virginia,” bluffed Jeremy a little more, hoping to get on good terms with the major. “Then Virginia would get to reap the highest bounty from the most abundant land and resourceful people in the world.”
The major looked at his papers, then angrily looked at Jeremy. “You did not read the article!” the major shouted, pounding his right fist on the desk while still clutching the papers in his left. “That article was about planned space exploration! That picture that you mentioned was an artist’s rendition of what a colony on another planet might look like!”
The major bolted up from his desk, turned around, and pulled the door open. “Code 59!” he yelled down the hallway toward the kitchen.
Within moments, three large men, also wearing Virginia military uniforms, stormed in. They grabbed Jeremy out of the chair and forced him out of the room and down the hall toward the stairway. Jeremy knew that what was going to happen next would not be good, but he also knew that resistance would be futile. He would have to endure whatever punishment awaited him.
The large men dragged Jeremy down to the stairs at the end of the hall, but instead of taking him upstairs, they took him to the other end of the stairwell, which led to the basement. At the bottom of the stairs was a single door. One of the soldiers flung the door open to reveal a cavernous basement with cuffs and chains at the far end. Boxes were stacked up about chest-high along front and back walls. The far wall and the wall to the left, which faced the back of the house, each had several small windows up near the ceiling, just above ground level. There were no other doors leading out of this basement.
The men quickly whisked Jeremy down to the far side of the basement. They flung him up against the wall near a set of cuffs, then cuffed his arms and legs to the wall. Next, Jeremy felt his pants being pulled down. He barely had time to draw another breath before a high, cracking sound split the air, and an excruciating streak of pain seared his bare buttocks.
Jeremy did not even have time to cry out in pain before another lash struck him with equal force. Now unable to bear the pain, Jeremy roared a high, loud cry of anguish. The cry brought no mercy as a third, fourth, and finally a fifth strike intensified the already unbearable torment. Jeremy could barely sense the cuffs being unfastened from his arms and legs as his screaming subsided into intense sobbing. Then Jeremy slumped down to the floor, still sobbing, too devastated to pull his pants up over his whip-scarred buttocks.
“From now on, remember,” Jeremy heard the major’s voice shouting from nearby, “that during reading time you are supposed to read!”
One of the large men pulled Jeremy to his feet. Jeremy tried to control his sobbing as he pulled his pants up, not sure what would happen next.
“Take him out to the backyard!” ordered Major Kaiser. “He is to weed the garden this afternoon!”
Jeremy offered no resistance as the large men whisked him back across the basement and up the stairs. Through the kitchen and out the back door they proceeded, which, to Jeremy’s surprise, was not locked. The door opened to a small, cement patio. A few steps downward led to ground level and the garden, which, along with the patio and a small portion of the side yard, were completely bounded by a hurricane fence. Just like at the Potomac River, rolled barbed wire circled around the top of the fence. The garden occupied the entire fenced-in area except for the patio itself.
“There’s your bucket!” yelled one of the men, pointing at a light turquoise plastic bucket with no handle, next to the house on the bottom step. “Start pulling weeds!”
Jeremy compliantly trudged down the steps, picked up the bucket, walked into the garden, knelt down, and began pulling weeds. Though he heard the back door shut behind him, making him the only person in the garden, he instinctively knew that he was being watched. He knew had to do his best despite the intense pain from his whipping. Being surrounded by all these food plants, the tomatoes, strawberries, onions, and lettuce, after two insufficient meals that day, plus missing two meals yesterday, compounded Jeremy’s discomfort, adding increasingly tantalizing hunger to the pain of the whipping. But he did not dare to touch a single morsel. Simply pretending to read had already resulted in five lashes. Jeremy could scarcely imagine what punishment awaited him if he ate any food without permission.
Jeremy spent the remainder of the afternoon weeding the garden. Despite the combination of hunger, thirst, sweat, and pain, he received not one speck of nourishment. Jeremy now realized he was in for a torturous stay at this house. He wondered how the other prisoners there managed. Certainly they all wanted to escape. Perhaps escaping was not realistic. Even if he did escape, he was bound to be caught. Then, Jeremy reasoned, he would face an even worse predicament than he was now facing.
While Jeremy did his weeding, he carefully observed the area around him. The three-story house where he was staying was white, somewhat weather-beaten but sturdy. Behind the back fence was a dark, rocky alley. The surrounding houses were all smaller, two-story edifices. All were painted white and looked to be about the same age as this house, though in somewhat better condition. This house, for one, had paint chipping off the exterior. None of the other houses appeared to. Interestingly, Jeremy never saw a single other person at any of those houses the whole afternoon.
None of the neighboring houses had fences, either. This backyard had one that was clearly built to keep people from getting out. The side yard opposite the back patio was completely outside the fence. The neighboring backyards all had gardens, but none that took up an entire backyard.
“Time for shower!” a guard yelled out at Jeremy at about five-thirty. Jeremy picked up his bucket of weeds and headed toward the house.
“Dump your weeds into this bag,” the guard instructed, setting a tall paper bag about one quarter full of weeds on the patio. Jeremy did as he was instructed, opening the bag and dumping his bucketload in. Once inside the house, the guard instructed him to use the shower on the second floor across from his room. Jeremy walked up to the second floor, walked into the bathroom, and disrobed. Then he walked into the adjoining shower room, which had only two shower heads but several buckets of water.
Two other prisoners were also taking showers. One of them stepped aside to let Jeremy use his shower. Jeremy soon covered himself with water and lathered himself with soap from a soap tray. He had not felt so good since he arrived in Richmond.
But within a couple of minutes, the showers suddenly stopped. The other two prisoners promptly rinsed themselves with the water in the buckets, so Jeremy did the same. When they reentered the bathroom area, a guard handed them each a white towel and a clean set of orange clothes. The three men dried themselves and put the fresh clothes on. Soon it would be time for dinner.
Jeremy was assigned to help with the victory juice at dinner. This time there were about fifteen prisoners standing around the room for the meal. But there were still only four guards, plus Mrs. Kaiser, supervising. Jeremy wondered where the other guards were. When he helped hand out the glasses, Jeremy would show the initials to the other victory juice prisoner. That prisoner would just point to whichever prisoner the glass belonged to. Now Jeremy was wondering if the prisoners even knew one another’s names. Perhaps all they knew was their initials. Once again, nobody talked during the entire meal. Jeremy was glad that at least each prisoner got nine bread chips at dinner instead of the usual six. At this meal, the prisoners also got to drink as much victory juice as they wanted. At least Jeremy was more comfortable when he finished this meal than he’d been after lunch, though he was hardly satisfied.
“There are some crates that need to be loaded at Bracken’s warehouse tonight,” Mrs. Kaiser announced after the meal. “That is your assignment for the evening.”
Mrs. Kaiser led the prisoners to the front door. She unlocked it, allowing the prisoners to file out to a waiting pickup truck with a fenced-in back, escorted by the guards. The prisoners all piled into the back of the pickup. The driver then locked the prisoners in, while two guards joined him in the front of the pickup. Soon they were off to their assignment.
After about thirty minutes of bumpy riding, silent except for the sound of the pickup’s motor and the occasional thumping whenever the truck hit a pothole, they arrived at a warehouse. It was located in the middle of an industrial neighborhood with several other warehouses and a few factories. Except for this warehouse, the other buildings in the neighborhood were all dark.
The driver honked his horn as soon as he stopped. Then he went around to the back of the truck and unlocked it. Meanwhile, an armed man inside the warehouse unlocked the main door and opened it. The prisoners, escorted by their guards and the driver, filed into the warehouse.
Like the warehouse where Jeremy had worked two nights earlier, this one was large and cavernous. Crates were stacked everywhere. Large doors in the back opened up to trucks that were docked in back.
For the next three hours, Jeremy and the other prisoners silently stacked crates into the trucks docked out back. Jeremy soon figured out that the crates were filled with apples. He wondered where they were being sent and why they were being sent there. Perhaps this was some of that food-for-weapons trade that David Grove had told him and Vince about. Jeremy also began wondering what was going on back at the house. So far, he had noticed about fifteen prisoners being overseen by eight guards, plus Major and Mrs. Kaiser. The state could not afford to employ ten people to monitor fifteen prisoners. There had to be something else going on there.
On the way back to the house, Jeremy tried to take note of the landmarks they went by. He judged that the warehouse was west of the halfway house. But mostly they went through darkened residential neighborhoods. What few businesses they did pass were in small, darkened buildings. Some looked like they were completely boarded up. But as decrepit-looking as Richmond seemed, at least it was clean. Jeremy then wondered how it was kept so clean.
Upon arriving back at the house, each prisoner was given his glass with water and another pill. Soon Jeremy was back in his room, lying on his cot, with Arthur on his cot, blocking the door. Jeremy kept thinking about the horrid day. The required reading. The skimpy meals. The silence of the prisoners. The forced work. And, of course, the beating. Jeremy wondered what kind of punishments would be inflicted if the prisoners talked to each other. Still hurting from his whipping earlier that afternoon, Jeremy did not want to find out.
After breakfast the next morning, Jeremy was escorted to a van that was waiting out front to take him to school. Wearing nothing but his orange prison clothes and carrying nothing, Jeremy simply looked around as the van headed toward his new school. He was the only passenger in the van. Jeremy could now tell for sure that he was going west because the morning sun was behind him. But it was not the same route he had taken to the warehouse the night before. In fact, they had only driven for about ten minutes when they crossed over a viaduct above a railroad yard. They had not crossed that viaduct the night before. Jeremy looked at the boxcars and engines below and started thinking about them. Where might those be headed?
It took only about ten more minutes to get to the school. A uniformed guard met Jeremy at the parking lot.
“You are to report to the office,” declared the guard as Jeremy climbed out of the van. The guard quickly escorted Jeremy in through the main front door of the school, into an office just to the right of the door.
Inside the office was a young woman wearing an old but clean-looking blue dress. She handed Jeremy a blue card.
“This is your schedule,” she asserted curtly as she handed Jeremy the card. “You are to report back here for lunch and after your last class. Your first class starts in a few minutes. You better hurry.”
Jeremy had never even been in this building before, yet he had only a few minutes to get to room 307. Quickly, he made his way to some stairs, working his way through the crowd of students. They were all wearing uniforms just like the ones worn by the students at Arlington Lee High. Jeremy felt as out of place as a penguin in the tropics in his orange clothes. At least now, somewhat fortuitously, the other students seemed to be trying to stay out of his way. So he zipped his way down the hallway and up two flights of stairs through an ever-thinning crowd.
Jeremy was one of only a few students not in a classroom when he arrived on the third floor. First, he went one way, past rooms 312 and 313, then 314 and 315. He quickly reversed course and paced briskly to room 307, arriving in the room just as the bell rang.
To no surprise, the seats were all filled when he got to the room. He stood near a back corner of the classroom, opposite the windows. Some other students who had been standing near there silently moved away from Jeremy, crowding closer to one another in the back of the room.
It was a math class. There were not enough books even for the seated students. Many of them, standing and seated, were sharing. With no textbook to use, Jeremy simply tried to follow the discussion as best he could. At times he raised his hand when the teacher asked a question, but he was never called upon. Even when he volunteered an answer, it fell on deaf ears. The teacher and the students all ignored him.
All of Jeremy’s other classes went likewise. He had to stand in the back of the classroom. The other students distanced themselves from him. The teachers ignored him. He had no books to use. One teacher gave a homework assignment. Jeremy wondered how he could complete it. Another teacher gave a test but did not hand Jeremy either a test or a pen or pencil to write it with. Jeremy wondered how he could get good grades under these circumstances. He had a feeling that the school was deliberately making it impossible for him to succeed here. The situation was looking bleaker.
For lunch, Jeremy went to the office, where he was served bread chips and victory juice, just like at the halfway house. After his last class, he went back to the office, where he was escorted to the same van that brought him to school. As the van again crossed over the viaduct, Jeremy began really thinking. In a few days, his situation had gone from promising to nearly hopeless. Perhaps those railroad tracks offered a means of escape. True, he would face an even worse punishment than what he was now receiving if he got caught, but considering how little the future now held for him, it might be worth a try.
After he got back to the halfway house, Jeremy was assigned to a work detail up on the north side of town. Another van driver drove him up there in a different van, where he joined fellow prisoners who were digging a ditch. While he was digging, he thought about the other prisoners. Now Jeremy thought he had a good idea why no talking was allowed. The prisoners might try to collude together to escape. The penalty for unauthorized talking was probably very severe indeed. That added another item to Jeremy’s wonder list. How often had prisoners tried to escape, and how often did they succeed?
The prisoners got about a fifteen-minute break for dinner, which once again consisted of bread chips and victory juice. Then they worked a few more hours, until well after dark, digging the ditch. Jeremy tried to take a few short breaks to rest his aching and weary body, knowing that he had to keep looking as if he were working.
The ride back to the halfway house after work was in a pickup just like the one that had taken them to the warehouse the previous night. The workers were just as silent, the ride just as bumpy, and the engine just as noisy. Some of the prisoners seemed to fall asleep on the ride, despite the bumpiness and the hardness of the pickup back.
Upon arriving back at the halfway house, the prisoners all took showers and got into fresh orange clothes. Once again, there was not enough water, so the prisoners had to make do with the water that was captured in buckets. Jeremy speculated that some of the bucket water got used three or four times. Not good for the hygiene of the prisoners, some of whom Jeremy now noticed looked unhealthily gaunt. Now Jeremy was more determined than ever to escape. He was willing to risk any punishment to avoid becoming like these other prisoners.
After showers, each prisoner was again given a glass of water with a pill. Jeremy put the pill in his mouth and drank the water, but he did not swallow the pill, pinning it tightly underneath his tongue. Then he walked off to his room and got into his cot while Arthur again moved his cot so it would block the door, then got in it.
Facing away from Arthur, Jeremy ejected the pill from his mouth. He also spat out some saliva that had dissolved part of the pill. Tired and aching though he was, Jeremy was not about to let a pill slow him down.
Jeremy continued to lie facing away from Arthur, motionless and silent. Before long, he was sure that Arthur was asleep because of his snoring. But Jeremy continued to lie still, partially nervous about what he was going to try next but also because he wanted to be extra sure that Arthur was sleeping.
Finally, Jeremy cautiously slipped out of his cot, carrying his pillow. He silently crept across the room toward Arthur, who was lying on his side, snoring peacefully. Jeremy kept inching forward, waiting for the right moment. Suddenly Arthur turned slightly, facing upward.
This was Jeremy’s chance! Quickly, he pressed the pillow down onto Arthur’s face. Arthur began squirming vehemently to break free, but his size was no match for Jeremy’s surprise assault and determination. After about a minute of squirming, Arthur’s resistance began to ebb. But Jeremy kept the pillow firmly fixed on Arthur’s face, knowing he could not afford to stop until he was certain this job was done.
Gradually, Arthur became motionless. Jeremy continued to hold the pillow in place for a few more minutes. Then, putting the pillow back on his cot, he took the pillowcase off and walked back over to Arthur’s cot. Jeremy rolled the pillowcase into a kind of rope, then wrapped it around Arthur’s neck. Jeremy pulled the pillowcase tighter and tighter, sure that the pillow job had only rendered Arthur unconscious. Now the pillowcase would finish the job.
Once Jeremy was sure that Arthur was no longer a threat, he walked over to the side of Arthur’s cot. Because of Arthur’s size, shoving the cot away from the door took some effort, but Jeremy was up for it. Soon he had Arthur and the cot far enough away from the door to open it.
Step one was now completed. Now the problem was getting out of the house. The front door was locked. He had no key. The back door might be unlocked, but that would only lead to the fenced-in garden.
Silently, Jeremy crept down the hall to the stairway, then down the stairs. Now he could tell that every light in the building was off, but the light from outside proved sufficient. He slipped back into the kitchen and grabbed a chair. Then he made his way down the hallway into the reading room. Swinging the chair, he smashed open the side window.
No sooner had Jeremy broken the window than an alarm sounded off. But Jeremy had no time to think. Frantically he scrambled through the window into the side yard. From there, he darted to the back alley. As he made his way down the alley, he turned and looked back toward the halfway house. He could see lights coming on all over it.
Jeremy sprinted westward down the alley for about six blocks before the blare of sirens pierced the calm night air. He hesitated briefly, then resumed his sprint. Jeremy knew what those sirens were for. Through the houses he could see the revolving red lights headed toward the house that for two days had been his prison. He knew he had to reach the railroad yards quickly, where, if luck were his friend, a train would provide transportation out of this area.
Jeremy tried to retrace his route to school as best he could. Sometimes he would cut between houses to check his route, making a point to remain back in the shadows as much as he could to avoid being seen. Whenever he crossed a street, he would first carefully check both ways, making sure that the coast was clear, then sprint onward. Jeremy made a couple of turns, still sure he was getting closer to his objective. At one point Jeremy noticed headlights from a car headed down the street running parallel, to the right, with the alley where he was running. He simply stayed behind a house until the car was gone.
After about fifteen minutes of running, stopping, and hiding, Jeremy heard a welcome sound ahead of him. It was trains down at the railroad yard! The trains ran mostly at night! This would be the perfect time to hop a train and try to escape the torment in Richmond.
Now being guided by the train noises, Jeremy continued his frantic scramble toward the railroad yard. Jeremy felt increasingly encouraged as the noises grew louder. Soon he found himself looking through a hurricane fence down at the railroad yard. At least this fence did not have any barbed wire rolled around the top of it. Jeremy quickly scrambled up the fence, climbed over the top, and dropped down the other side. He was now in the railroad yard.
Moving adeptly despite the knee-high weeds, Jeremy hustled down the hill, then hid low in the weeds near the tracks. While no trains were passing through right at this precise moment, he could hear some trains down in both directions. For the first time, Jeremy noticed his heart pounding and the sweat from the combination of intense running and ultra-pressure tension. He was confident that trains would pass by here soon. But would it be soon enough to avoid detection?
The sound of a train approaching from the left lifted Jeremy’s hopes. Not only was a train coming, but it was headed north. Jeremy reasoned that this was the best direction he could go. Granted, going home now would do no good. But perhaps he could make his way to Maryland and the safety of the RSNA.
Crouching low, Jeremy waited for the slowly chugging train engine to pass, then several boxcars. He figured he should not attempt to board the train too close to the front and risk being seen by the engineer. Some of the boxcars were closed, but others were open, revealing empty space inside. Finally, noticing an approaching boxcar with an open door, Jeremy decided it was time to make a run for it. He leaped up, ran diagonally toward the train, and as the open boxcar caught up, he placed both hands on the floor of the boxcar and jumped, landing with both knees on the floor, just behind his hands. Then he scrambled over to the far back corner of the boxcar. He kept looking at the door, back out at the evening Richmond terrain. In less than a minute, he passed under the viaduct that he had crossed over on his way to school.
Gradually, the train began to pick up speed. It was now reaching the outer parts of Richmond. Jeremy had caught his escape ride without being noticed.
Jeremy now sat back in the boxcar, though he could hardly relax. The tension from everything he had just done prevented that. He was also still sore from his whipping. But at least now he had time to consider his next move.
The first thing Jeremy decided was that if the train stopped anywhere, he would have to make a run for it. There would be too much of a chance that somebody would walk by the boxcar and find him. Such a stop might even mean that the authorities were looking for him there. This train was probably headed toward Arlington or Alexandria. Looking out the door as the city gave way to countryside, Jeremy deduced that he could figure out when he would be getting near those two large cities. None of the other cities between Richmond and Alexandria were nearly that large. Jeremy decided he could jump off the train once it reached that area, then make his way to the Potomac River. From there, he could swim across to Maryland.
Jeremy waited in the boxcar through minutes that seemed like hours. He kept looking out the open door at the nighttime darkness, wondering if he would be caught. Perhaps by now the authorities in Richmond had realized that he had hopped this train and would come looking for him. But the train kept chugging northward. Sometimes the clackety-clack would slow down as the train approached a town. One time, Jeremy noted that it passed through a large town with a river just past it. Jeremy surmised that it must have been Fredericksburg. So far, his escape seemed to be working.
After a seemingly all-night ride, Jeremy noticed that buildings were appearing more frequently. He had reached the Alexandria area. Even though it was still about three o’clock in the morning, Jeremy feared he might not have much darkness left to help him complete his escape. He cautiously lurched toward the boxcar door and peered out. Not seeing anyone, he jumped out and rolled on the ground, enduring some minor scrapes from some rocks.
Next, Jeremy mounted another hurricane fence that ran alongside this railroad track, continuing his escape. He ran straight away from the tracks in a generally eastward direction. Though he was unfamiliar with these neighborhoods, he had a good sense of direction, circumventing houses and other obstacles while keeping his bearings on the east. Thankfully, Jeremy was not encountering any cars.
It took Jeremy nearly an hour to reach a major road that he recognized. It was a highway that ran near the Potomac River. Jeremy knew that this road ran by Mount Vernon, so he deduced that the grand old plantation must be somewhere nearby. While trees protected him from any potential lookers on this side of the road, the other side was more open, mainly occupied by gardens.
Making extra sure that there were no cars approaching, Jeremy sprinted across the road and into a garden. There he kept sprinting despite the soft garden soil. Now he could tell that Mount Vernon was off to his right, perhaps half a mile away. But Jeremy’s real objective was now within striking distance. Trees provided more cover once Jeremy completed his sprint across the garden. Just past the short maze of trees flowed the wide Potomac River.
Jeremy looked ahead with consternation when he reached the banks of the river. First, the river was much wider here than at the point where he and Vince had swum across, up by Arlington. Perhaps it was a mile wide. Worse yet, the river was blocked off by another hurricane fence, this one with rolled barbed wire along the top.
Swimming across the river would be a difficult and chancy undertaking. There was also the risk of getting stuck or cut climbing over the fence. But Jeremy knew he had to get across the river somehow. First, he started walking along the bank upstream, hoping to find a breach in the fence or a gully that would open a large enough space underneath the fence for him to crawl under. But after walking about half a mile, Jeremy decided he was out of luck. The only gully he found with potential had been cemented over. There were no breaches.
Having not seen any branches large enough to help him dig under the fence, Jeremy decided that his best chance was to climb over the fence. His baggy orange clothes could too easily be caught in the barbed wire, so he stripped naked. It would be better to be seen naked in Maryland than to be caught by anybody in Virginia. The barbed wire might cut him, but he could endure some cuts, considering what he had at stake.
Next, Jeremy started climbing the fence. Once he got high enough to reach the barbed wire, he grabbed adjacent loops with his hands, pulling them apart to allow more space for him to squeeze through. Then, pulling on the barbed wire, he climbed until his feet were about two feet from the top of the fence. Then he pulled himself as upright as he could.
Now Jeremy faced a problem. He tried to bring his left leg over the top of the fence but found he could not do it without releasing one of the barbed wire loops. Therefore he climbed until his feet were a few spaces higher in the fence. Then, deciding he would have to take his chances with the barbed wire, he placed his left foot on top of the fence. Next Jeremy released his left hand from its barbed wire loop. Holding the barbed wire tight with his right hand, he pulled his right foot up to the top of the fence. Then, releasing his right hand from the barbed wire, Jeremy lunged forward. He barely noticed the slight cuts on his lower legs and upper right arm as he plunged into water, only a few inches deep, on the river side of the fence. He landed on his hands and knees. The silt under the water cushioned the blow.
With his biggest task still ahead of him, Jeremy promptly got up and started wading out into the river. Its cool, gentle current felt invigorating next to Jeremy’s bare body as he slowly trudged in deeper and deeper, until finally, standing on tiptoe, he could wade no further. Then, floating himself up horizontally, he began to gently swim forward.
At first the swim was not overly difficult. Jeremy progressed slowly but steadily across the river, trying to preserve his strength for the long distance ahead. Things began to worsen when Jeremy looked forward at the Maryland shore, then turned around and noticed that the Virginia shore was still much closer. He continued onward, pressing to achieve his goal. Gradually, the Maryland shore started looming closer.
The current strengthened as he reached the middle of the river, forcing Jeremy to exert himself as much in trying to fight the current as in crossing the river. His strength was beginning to fade as the cool water temperature also began to numb his tiring body.
Jeremy was about two thirds of the way across the river when he noticed what seemed to be a light on the Maryland shore, roughly straight ahead of him. Using the light as both a guide and a motivation, he began trying to swim toward it. The closer he got, the brighter that light became, but meanwhile the combination of fatigue and cool water was causing his body to stiffen. But there was no turning back now. Even if going back to Virginia were an option, Maryland was closer.
At one point, Jeremy tried to rest by floating on his back. But it availed him little. The current started pushing him downstream, while the waves kept lapping at his face, interfering with his ability to breathe. So onward he swam, continuing in determination to reach safety in Maryland, using the light for his guide.
Soon Jeremy began losing his ability to see detail on the Maryland shore. Before long he had little ability to see much at all. He tried to stand vertically to see if the water was shallow enough to wade through. It was not. Onward he pushed, wondering if he could complete the swim now that he was this close.
Jeremy was nearly depleted of strength when he finally realized he had reached a point where he could start wading. Gradually he stood up and started wading, slowly but determinedly. He had hardly any feeling as the water became shallower, signifying that his river crossing had nearly ended. Upon reaching the shore, Jeremy walked only a few more steps, then collapsed.