IT WAS the teenager named Calvin who held him, squeezing his arms just above the elbow as Bryce had done.
The girl had faded into the shadows, but when she saw that he was caught, she came out and stood beside him.
“Let us go,” the boy said. “We’re not hurting you.”
“Oh, man, where you going to go to? This is the wilds!”
The boy twisted in Calvin’s hands. He was surprised when Calvin let go at once, backing off and holding his hands up. “Okay. Be cool.”
The girl Tiwanda was standing close by, watching
from under her fringe of beads. She did not look excited or angry. She looked sad.
“Okay now. Why you running from the Man?”
“Who?”
“The Man. The cops. Back at the gas station.”
They had been noticed. The boy had felt invisible, but Calvin had seen them and understood what they were doing. It had been a mistake to leave the woods and go into the gas station. People might see you, think about you, even if they didn’t seem to.
“We broke into a house and took some stuff.”
Tiwanda’s face bunched up in distress.
“Oh, man …” she said.
“We had to! We’re going to pay them back.”
“That’s okay,” said Calvin. “That’s okay. I understand. People shouldn’t leave their houses lying around, right?”
“Oh, Calvin, I don’t know,” said Tiwanda. “I think we better tell Mr. Carlson.”
“Don’t do that,” said the girl.
“Yeah, what’s the matter with you, Tiwanda? Carlson would just send them back. They’re running, can’t you see? Ain’t nobody ever run from nothing.”
“But it’s dark out there.” Tiwanda looked into the woods with real fear.
“We’re not afraid,” said the boy.
“Oh, honey, there’s wolves and bears and stuff out there. We can’t just let you go. She’s scared. Don’t you see?”
The boy looked at the girl. Her dark hair was coming down over her face, concealing her eyes. She wouldn’t look up at him. He wanted to tell her that it was all right, that they would be safe out in the dark, but he didn’t know how to begin. The idea seemed so simple to him, and yet so difficult to explain.
“Look,” said Calvin. “Why don’t we just keep them with us for the night. We can decide what to do in the morning. Nobody would care. They might just have signed up at the center at the last minute. Nobody knows everybody, not even Carlson. Who’s in your cabin? Could you make it right?”
“I don’t know,” said Tiwanda doubtfully. She looked at the girl. “Where are you running to? I mean, have you got somewhere to go, or are you just running?”
“We’re going to meet my mom. On Saturday. In Ahlburg.”
“Ahlburg? Where’s that?”
“It’s a town. It’s near here.”
“Why don’t your mom come get you right away?”
“She couldn’t. She … she wanted to, but she had to work.”
Tiwanda tilted her head back and looked at the girl skeptically. “That don’t seem right,” she said. She reached out and brushed the girl’s hair away from her face. “Is that the truth, honey? Or are you just putting me on?”
“No, it’s true. It’s really true.”
Tiwanda wrinkled up her nose and stared out into
the dark. Behind them they could hear doors opening and closing, people talking and laughing.
“Come on, Tiwanda,” said Calvin. “What’s the big deal?”
“Well. All right,” she said. “For tonight, anyway. I’ll take her. Susie Burns is in my cabin. She’s going to make a fuss.”
“That’s okay. Just lean on her a bit. What are you guys called, anyway?”
They wouldn’t say. They stood waiting to see what Calvin would do next.
“Oh, man, you are sly. Don’t trust nobody. That’s okay. You think it over. Here,” he said to the girl. “You go with Tiwanda. Clyde here and me will meet you at the dining hall for supper.”
“We’re supposed to stay together,” she said.
Calvin laughed. “You’re cane sugar, you are.” He bent over her so he could see into her face. “You can’t stay together tonight, don’t you see?” he explained. “Carlson’s got us all segregated. Boys and girls. Tiwanda can slip you in with her all right, but I think somebody might notice if Clyde’s there, too. You get it?”
As they turned back toward the buses, they saw that a boy was standing in the light coming from the latrine, watching them. He was close enough to have been listening, yet no one had noticed him. He was very pale, with pale hair and eyes. He had long arms and was dangling a white suitcase in front of him.
“Hey, Pardoe,” said Calvin. “How’s it going, man?” The pale boy didn’t seem to think Calvin’s question needed any answer. He lifted his head slightly and pointed with his chin.
“Who are they?” he asked. His voice was soft and dark, like a bruise.
“Hey, Pardoe, you know them.”
“No, I don’t. I never seen them before.”
“What you mean you never seen them? They’re hanging round the center all the time. This is Bonnie and her brother, Clyde.”
The pale boy looked at them, thinking. It wasn’t pleasant to watch him think. His face was very still and gave nothing away.
“Right,” he said finally. He turned, pushing his suitcase in front of him with his knees as he walked away alone.
“Come on,” said Calvin. “Let’s move. Don’t worry about Pardoe. He’s got to know everything, but he never gave anything away.”
“You stay away from him, you hear,” Tiwanda whispered to the girl. “He’s no good. No good at all.”
The girl helped Tiwanda carry her suitcases to one of the cabins. She had a big suitcase and a small one and a square vanity bag. They were all light blue.
As they opened the door they could hear people laughing and talking inside.
“How we supposed to unpack?” someone was saying.
“There’s no place to put anything. No closets, no nothing. How are we supposed to hang up our stuff and get the wrinkles out?”
It was the pretty girl who loved the stars. She was standing between the bunk beds holding a red silky blouse. When Tiwanda and the girl stepped inside she smiled.
“Hey, Tiwanda, who’s your friend?”
“This is Bonnie. She’s staying with us tonight.”
The girl who loved the stars nodded slightly, her smile turning thoughtful. The other girls stopped what they were doing and looked at the girl. It was very quiet in the room. A miller moth which had followed them inside blundered around the light bulb hanging from the ceiling.
“There aren’t enough beds,” said a small plump girl with a loud voice. She was sitting cross-legged on one of the top bunks looking down at them. “There’re seven people and only six beds.”
“She’s my guest, Susie. Bonnie, this is Susie Burns. I think maybe I mentioned her to you.”
Susie tried not to look at the girl. “Guest? What do you mean, guest? Where’s she going to sleep? She’s not supposed to be here.”
Tiwanda put down her suitcases and walked over to the bunk where Susie was sitting. She laid her big arm alongside the girl’s legs.
“She’s going to sleep with me. Does that bother you, girl?”
The plump girl flushed. Bright-pink blotches appeared at the corners of her mouth.
“She’s not supposed to be here,” she repeated. “She’ll spoil everything. She’ll get us in trouble.”
“She won’t get you in trouble, Susie, because you don’t know anything. Ain’t that right?”
The plump girl wouldn’t answer.
“It’s okay, Susie,” said a white girl with black hair and bright-red lipstick and nails.
“Just tonight?”
Tiwanda nodded slowly.
“Oh, all right.” Susie flopped over on her side as if she didn’t want to see any more.
“Hi,” said the girl who loved the stars, coming close. “I’m Lydia.”
“Hi.”
Lydia looked down and bit her lip, as if she had something embarrassing to say. The girl waited, wondering what had been found wrong with her. Had she already broken some rule or other? Or was Lydia going to tell her in the nicest way that it would be better if she just disappeared?
Lydia took a deep breath. “You want to borrow my comb?” she asked.
The dining hall was one big room filled with picnic tables. To one side the man they called Mr. Carlson was taking white cardboard lunch boxes out of a big aluminum container and passing them out to a line
of kids. Behind him was a large institutional stove, where a gray-haired woman was ladling cocoa into white mugs. The room was chilly and smelled of fried chicken and chocolate.
Tiwanda and the girl found the boy sitting with Calvin and some other kids near the door. They were eating chicken and coleslaw out of little plastic containers.
“Sit here, Bonnie,” Tiwanda said, “I’ll get us some supper.”
The girl wondered if there would be only enough of the little white boxes for the people who were supposed to be there, but no one else seemed worried.
She sat down next to the boy, sliding close enough so that their arms touched. He didn’t say anything, but he smiled at her so that she knew he was glad she was there again. He didn’t want to interrupt Pardoe, who was explaining what a kid should do if he had no money.
“You find some store like K Mart or Woolworth’s,” he was saying, “then you look around for some wastebaskets outside. Act like you’re looking for cans or bottles, but what you really want is a bag from the store with a receipt in it. There are always some around. People buy something they want to use right away, and they throw away the bag, and they forget about the receipt that was stuck inside. They don’t want it, anyway.”
It was a complicated plan. It involved stealing items
from the store and trying to exchange them for money using the receipt.
“Oh, man, that don’t work,” someone said. “They’ve got a code telling what the stuff is, right there on the tape.”
“That’s right,” said Calvin. “And they staple the bag shut, so you have to tear it to get stuff out. You take up a bag that’s been tore and they’ll bust your ass.”
Pardoe smiled, as if nobody could understand. “It doesn’t matter,” he said in his soft voice. “You just have to look right. Like your mom is going to call up and complain if they don’t treat you nice.” He turned his flat eyes on the girl. “She could do it.”
Everyone looked at her. It made her nervous. She hadn’t thought that Pardoe had noticed her. She didn’t want him to think about her. When he smiled, the skin at the corners of his mouth folded into dry little wrinkles.
“No, she couldn’t,” said Tiwanda, who had come back with two boxes of chicken. “She’s not going to mess with any of that stuff. You hear, Bonnie?”
“Get off her case, Tiwanda,” said Pardoe. “What’s she supposed to do? Get a paper route?”
“I mean it. You shut up about that stuff. She’s not going to do any of it.”
Pardoe looked away, smiling dreamily. He seemed very sure of something. So sure that he wouldn’t explain it to people who refused to understand.
When they had finished eating, Mr. Carlson got up
and gave a speech. He welcomed them to the camp, and asked them to take good care of the facilities, because it was state property and that meant it was theirs, too. He apologized for the box lunch; Milo promised hot food tomorrow. Everyone whistled and cheered, and a man in a white paper cap stood up and bowed. Then Mr. Carlson explained the next day’s schedule. In the morning they could explore the camp and get acquainted. There were tennis courts and a lake nearby where they could swim. The buddy system would be strictly enforced. He pointed out the buddy list by the door. It didn’t matter if your buddy wasn’t a friend; he or she was still your buddy.
In the afternoon there would be an excursion to the Corraine Caverns. They should be ready to board the buses at one o‘clock sharp. Mrs. Higgins would stay behind to hold the hands of those who didn’t make the buses. They should bring sweaters and jackets and wear sturdy shoes. No clogs or heels. It had been a long day, and lights-out was at ten o’clock. Until then they could do what they wanted. Keep it decent. And no, he wasn’t going to tell them where the lake was until morning.
When Mr. Carlson had sat down, some of the kids got up and began to collect the empty lunch boxes in big plastic bags. Others began to push the tables back against the walls. Someone turned on a large portable radio, and a boy in a windbreaker and a big felt hat began to sketch a few steps of a private break dance off in a corner.
Lydia came over to their table carrying a cup of cocoa. “What’s this Corraine Cavern excursion? I’m not sure I want to mess with that.”
“You’d love it, Lydia,” said Pardoe. “It’s a big black hole in the ground. People are always getting lost down there. They never find most of them.”
“Don’t give me that. Why would anyone want to go down a hole? Even subways give me the willies.”
“It’s probably interesting,” said Tiwanda. “I was in Mammoth Cave once. Mammoth Cave in Kentucky? They had interesting stuff there. Fish with no eyes and underground lakes and stuff. They had these stalagmites that looked like fried eggs and some like a pipe organ. They played music and had a light show. It was real educational.”
“Mammoth Cave is where they found these mummies of people who got lost.”
“Shut up, Pardoe. There ain’t no mummies in there. That’s in the pyramids. In Egypt.”
“No, man, it’s true. There’s something about the air in there. These people dies, but they don’t rot. They just sort of dry up.”
“I was in a cave once,” said the boy suddenly. He was sitting up very straight like a little kid and looking at them. The girl noticed that he hadn’t eaten much of his chicken. She couldn’t understand that, because she was starved.
“What cave was that?” asked Tiwanda.
“I don’t remember the name. It’s in Greece. It’s really old.”
“Was it scary?” asked Lydia. “Because if it’s scary, I don’t want to hear about it.”
“No, it wasn’t scary. It was kind of—I don’t know—weird.” He laughed nervously. “There was this god that used to live there.”
“God? In a cave?” Tiwanda was scandalized.
“Not God god. But this special sort of god.”
“Like the Romans and stuff?”
“Yes. This was a Greek god. People used to worship him. They built this altar out in front of the cave, and they would sacrifice goats and stuff.”
“What do you mean? Kill them?”
“Yes. And then they’d cut up the bodies and burn parts of them. This was all in the olden days,” he said to Lydia, who was making faces.
“Why’d you go up there? What were you doing in Greece?” asked Pardoe. He sounded insulted, angry, but the boy didn’t seem to notice.
“My dad knew all about this cave, but he had never seen it. So we decided to walk up there one day. It was really hard to find, because we just had this old map from a book, and it wasn’t right. We had to walk miles and miles, and it was really hot. I thought we were going to die before we got there.”
“What was it like?” Lydia asked. “Did it have blind fish?”
“No, it wasn’t anything like that. It was like a mouth. And it got really big inside. Like the inside of an airport terminal. Only it was dark at the back. There weren’t any lights.”
“Did you see your special god?” asked Pardoe. He twisted his mouth up to show that he thought it was all a joke.
The boy picked up a chicken leg and looked at it. Then he put it down again.
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
Everyone was quiet for a minute.
“Well, what did you see, man?” asked Calvin.
“I’m not sure. I was feeling pretty weird, you know, with the sun and everything. My dad was trying to read these inscriptions on the wall near the mouth of the cave, and I thought I would walk back and see if I could find the end. I had this flashlight and everything, but it didn’t work very well, because it had these lousy Greek batteries. Anyway, I was walking back and back and it was getting darker and darker, and I thought I saw something move.” He had been holding his hands up to talk with, and now he held them still, just above his shoulders. He was smiling a little.
“Oh, man!” said Lydia. “I thought you said this wasn’t scary!”
“That was kind of scary. I was really scared, actually. I turned around and started running, but I couldn’t see the light from the opening of the cave anymore. I didn’t even feel like I was in a cave. The darkness just went on and on. All over the world, it felt like.”
“Oh, man. What happened then?” asked Calvin.
“Nothing really.” The boy frowned and looked in
his lunch box. “My dad grabbed me and carried me out of the cave. I must have been yelling or something. We went back later, but we couldn’t find anything, but Stephanos—he’s a friend of my dad—he said it might have been the god. That some people thought he was still there, but he didn’t come out very often because people didn’t give him goats anymore.”
“It was probably a rat,” said Pardoe. “Caves have rats. It was a rat god.”
The boy looked at him, but didn’t say anything.
“I don’t care if it was Santa Claus,” said Lydia. “I’m not going in any cave tomorrow. No way.”
People began to fidget, tapping on the table with their hands and looking around. It was as if he had said something that they didn’t want to hear. Something that made them nervous.
The girl didn’t like that. She leaned against him so that he could feel the warmth of her shoulder through his shirt.
Someone had turned up the radio, and kids were dancing in the center of the room. Mr. Carlson and Mrs. Higgins were sitting with some other adults at a small table, talking and playing cards.
“Come on, Clyde. Let’s you and me dance,” said Lydia.
“No,” he said. “I don’t dance very well.” He could feel the girl’s weight against him. He was very comfortable. But Lydia wouldn’t allow it. She caught his
hands and pulled him away from the table. He liked Lydia, but he was glad when one of the big kids from the bus started dancing with them, too. The big kid matched his steps exactly to Lydia’s, so that they moved together in short slight movements. It was pleasant to watch them. After a few minutes the boy sidled away.
He saw the girl sitting alone with Pardoe at the table. He couldn’t see Calvin and Tiwanda. Pardoe was smiling, and the girl was looking at the floor, as if she wanted Pardoe to leave her alone.
“Well, if it ain’t Clyde. Hello, Clyde.”
The boy nodded once. He didn’t know what Pardoe might do, and he understood that he must be careful.
“I was just telling your sister here that it isn’t smart to go running around in the woods. People see you. They wonder what you’re doing. They might call the cops if they wonder enough. It’s better in the city. Nobody cares.”
“We’re going to meet her mom on Saturday.”
“Oh yeah. You’re going to meet her mom on Saturday.” Pardoe repeated his words as if they were a lesson he had difficulty remembering. He was smiling at the boy, and then his eyes changed so that he was looking through him at the other side of the room.
He turned back to the girl suddenly. “Hey, Bonnie. Look at this.” He fished a brass key on a string out of his shirt. It was moist and shiny from rubbing against his skin.
“It’s a key. So?” said the boy.
“That’s right, Bonnie. It’s a key. But do you know whose key? Ever hear of Art Mobling?”
“Yes. He’s on TV,” said the boy. It was strange talking to Pardoe this way, because Pardoe was pretending he wasn’t there and that it was the girl who was asking the questions. It made him feel big and in the way, and at the same time transparent.
“This is the key to his place. Wow. You should see it. I bet you never saw anything like it. It’s way up in one of those buildings by the lake. It’s got windows all over the place, and all the rugs and stuff are white.”
“I don’t get it,” said the boy, unable to leave it alone. “Why would he give you his key?”
Pardoe turned red, but smiled at the girl as if she had asked the question he had hoped she would.
“He’s a friend of mine. A real good friend. He likes to help kids, and I help him out, too. He gave me this shirt. You like this shirt?” He held up his arm in front of the girl’s face, but she turned away.
“He’d help you out, Bonnie. Really. You go to him, tell him you’re a friend of mine. I’ll let you have the key so he’ll know you’re okay. He’d take care of you. Real well. You wouldn’t have to go slumming around in the woods anymore. No strings really. You be nice to him. He’s nice to you. That’s what friends are for.”
Pardoe waited for her to say something, but she simply stared at the floor. She didn’t seem able to
move. The boy felt as if they were stuck to Pardoe. As if he had been talking to them for hours.
“You like pizza?” Pardoe said brightly. “God, Art and I had this great pizza the last time I was there. Everything on it. Anchovies. You like anchovies?”
“I told you that we were going to meet her mom.”
Pardoe turned slowly to look at him. He was still smiling. “You know something, Clyde? You keep flapping that big lip of yours, and I’m not even talking to you. I’m going to get annoyed in a minute. I might have to slap you around a little. Okay?”
The boy felt himself start to tremble. He might even cry. When people said things like that to him, something inside that held his arms and legs together went slack. Pardoe saw it happening, because he was watching.
“Creep,” he said. “Come on, Bonnie. Let’s go somewhere where we can be alone.”
He stood up and tried to pull the girl up, too. He wasn’t looking at the boy, because he had decided he didn’t matter anymore.
The boy kicked him hard in the side of the knee.
Pardoe made a loud ugly sound and fell down on the floor.
The boy stared at him. He was astounded. He hadn’t thought he could hurt Pardoe. He hadn’t even expected him to fall down. He thought now Pardoe would jump up like a hero on television and start punching him.
Pardoe stayed on the floor. He was lying on his side and feeling for his knee with one hand. He suddenly looked small and fragile. His face crinkled up like tissue paper, squeezing thick tears out of his eyes.
People were getting in the way, so that it was hard for the boy to see. They kept shoving him behind them, away from Pardoe. He tried to push his way to the front, but someone was holding him back.
“Okay! Okay! Break it up. What’s going on?” Mr. Carlson pushed his way through the crowd, using both hands. He wasn’t like Mr. Wells. He wasn’t afraid to touch people. He grabbed them and threw them aside when they wouldn’t move.
“Pardoe fell down,” someone said.
“Don’t give me that. What happened, Pardoe? Who started this?”
Through a screen of arms and legs the boy could see that Pardoe was trying to sit up. He was no longer crying, but his tears had made red acid marks on his face.
“I fell down,” he said. “I’ve got a trick knee.”
Mr. Carlson looked around at Calvin, Tiwanda, and the others. He didn’t find anything in their silent faces. They were careful not to look at the boy.
“Okay,” said Mr. Carlson in a tired voice. “Party’s over. Lights-out in fifteen minutes.”