“He is,” I said. “Wait till you meet him. You’ll like him.”
“How will I get to meet him?”
“When he comes, I’m gonna ask him to take you with us.”
“Naaa. Don’t do that. Forget about it.”
“Why?”
“Just forget about it.”
“I’m gonna.”
“Jennings, would you just forget about it, please?”
“Why, Mark? Don’t you wanna come with us?”
He ran his finger along one of the cracks in the gray stone beneath his feet. “Jennings, I’ve been here a long time. Forever. Nobody’s gonna take me anywhere.”
“Sal will. When he comes for me, he’ll take you too.”
“Nobody wants a fat slob!” he said. His eyes filled. He put his head down to pay more attention to the crack.
“I thought you was my brother,” I said.
“That’s just for in here. Not for real.”
“I thought it was for real. I’m gonna tell Sal it’s for real. And I’m gonna tell him to take you too.” I got up and walked along the fence. I didn’t want to give him another chance to tell me no.
After dinner Mark got me a towel and a toothbrush. We washed, brushed, and changed into our pajamas. There weren’t many kids in the dormitory, so I was able to carry Doggie over to my bed in the open. I slipped him under my pillow. Mark and I sat on my bed. He wanted to hear more about the outside. I began to fill him in on everything that had happened to me since I had seen him last. I told him about school and being left back. I had to explain to him what being left back meant. I was up to the part about St. Teresa’s and Stevie when he yawned.
“Is this boring to you?”
He laughed. “No. I like to hear about new things. I’m just very tired.”
He hopped down from my bed. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said. “I wanna hear the rest of what happened.”
“Are you sure?”
He laughed and started to leave.
“Hey, wait! Where’s your bed?”
“Not far,” he said. “Watch me.”
He was right, his bed wasn’t far away at all. We waved to each other.
I slipped beneath the covers and pulled Doggie out from under the pillow.
“Isn’t it nice to be with Mark again?” I whispered.
He agreed it was.
“I’m sure Sal will take him home with us, aren’t you?”
He was sure.
After the lights had gone out and the room quieted down, I slipped out of bed. The room was dark and shadowy. I got down onto the floor and crawled under the beds. I made my way over to Mark.
“Hey, Mark,” I whispered.
“What? Is that you?” He sounded a little groggy.
“Yeah,” I whispered. “I got something for you.”
“What?”
I placed Doggie in his arms. “I want to share him with you. You take him one night, and I’ll take him the next. What do you think?”
I took his silence for a “yes” and crawled away.
I was sure Mark needed Doggie as much as I did. Maybe more.
After breakfast Mark and I were in the playroom. Rain had spoiled any outdoor activities, so the rooms were filled with kids all trying to play with the same games. Mark and I sat off to one side near the glass doors. I was telling him about Jerome.
“Did you ever learn to play chess?” he asked.
“Naaa. Not too good.”
“I’ll teach you.”
“Really? I didn’t know you knew how to play chess.”
“Oh, yeah. I could teach you. Let’s get the set.”
“Now? With all this going on?” I said as I motioned toward the disorder around the room.
“Sure now. Nobody here is gonna be playing chess.”
“You’re right.”
We got the board and pieces without any problem whatsoever. Finding a spot to play in was another story. We left the playroom and went into the classroom. We set up the board.
“You look pale,” I said. “Are you all right?”
“I’m just tired. Let’s play.
He showed me again how the pieces moved. I had forgotten. The longer we played, the worse Mark looked.
“I think you should go to the nurse.”
“Listen, Jennings! I don’t wanna go to no hospital again. Okay?”
“Okay. I was just suggesting—”
“Forget it. If I see a nurse, she’ll put me in the hospital, and then I’ll never see you again.”
We played in silence for a while.
“Why would they put you in the hospital?”
“’Cause they just would. They did last time.”
“Are you feeling the same way?”
He nodded his head yes. “It’s just a cold or something,” he said. “It’ll go away.”
“Suppose I go to the nurse and tell her I got a headache. When she gives me an aspirin, I won’t take it. I’ll save it for you. What do you think?”
“That’s not bad. Think you could do it?”
“Sure,” I said, and jumped to my feet.
I left the classroom and went into the hall to find the nurse’s office. I did. There was a white door with a big glass window next to it. I knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
I pushed open the door and stuck my head in.
“Hi,” she said. “Come on in.”
“I have a headache,” I said from where I was standing.
“Well, come in and I’ll give you something for it.”
I went in. “It’s right here.” I tapped on my head.
“What?”
“My ache.”
“Oh.” She laughed. She went over to a cabinet and fussed with a few things. She returned to me with a tiny little glass with some brown liquid in it. She handed it to me. “Drink this,” she said.
“What’s this?” I asked. “Don’t you have any aspirin?”
“It’s castor oil. If you still have a headache after dinner, I’ll give you some aspirin.”
“Oh. I have to drink this first?”
“Yes.”
I drank the stuff. It tasted awful.
I returned to Mark and sat down.
“Did you get the aspirin?”
“No, but I’m working on it.”
After dinner Mark told me not to bother getting him any aspirin. He said he felt better.
“Oh, good,” I said. “For some reason I have to go to the bathroom again.”
“That’s the third time.”
“Yeah, I know. It must be something I ate.”
“Or drank.” He laughed.
We changed into our pajamas early and sat on his bed.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said. You know, about Sal.”
“What about him?”
“Do you really think he might take me too?”
“Oh course he will. I’m telling you, he will!”
Mark sort of drifted off a little. “You know,” he said, “I never told nobody this, but…” His cheeks flushed. “I’m only telling you ’cause we’re brothers now.”
“Okay. I won’t tell nobody.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
“Well, I dream sometimes of belonging to somebody. You know, having them tuck me in bed, and even kiss me good night. It’s dumb, I know, but I dream about it sometimes.”
“Didn’t anyone ever tuck you in or kiss you good night?”
He shook his head no. “When you were telling me about Martha, I was dreaming about it then.”
“Oh, Martha’s wonderful. She would even hum to you.”
We drifted off somewhere, he in his thoughts and me in mine. I’m sure we were both thinking of the same thing, Martha.
After the lights were turned out, I made my way across the darkened room to Mark’s bed.
“Hi,” I whispered. “I brought you Doggie.”
“But it’s not my turn,” he said. �
�I had him last night.”
“I know. But what can I do? Doggie said he wanted to sleep with you.” I placed Doggie alongside him.
“Thank you,” he whispered. He said it so softly I could hardly hear him.
I brought his blanket up to his chin and then smoothed it out. I took the loose end and folded it under his mattress.
For the next few days Mark and I stayed in the playroom. We played chess together. He was almost always tired, and so never felt like going out into the yard. I didn’t mind. I liked being with him, so it didn’t matter where we were or what we were doing. We never spoke about how he was feeling, because I knew he didn’t like talking about it. We talked about the things we were going to do together on the outside. I think for the first time Mark was really happy about something. So was I.
We were in the dining room one afternoon. We were having spaghetti and meatballs. That was Mark’s favorite. I looked over to see how he was doing. He was pale and weak-looking. I was about to turn back to eat my lunch when he slipped from his chair to the floor.
“Mark!” I screamed.
I raced from my place to Mark’s table. Kids were around him; others were getting out of the way. Some of the kids nearest the doorway were calling for help. I reached Mark.
He was wet and clammy. His eyes were half-open and half-closed. I cradled his head in my arms and rocked him.
“There’s help coming, Mark,” I cried.
“I tried to wait for Sal,” he whispered. “I tried.”
“Don’t worry, Mark, wherever they take you, we’ll come for you.”
“Will you?” he gasped.
“Oh, yes. Yes! I promise. We’ll come for you.”
I leaned down and kissed his forehead.
“Get out of the way,” a lady yelled to some of the kids.
She pushed her way through the crowd.
“Give him air,” she yelled. She pushed me down and lifted Mark in her arms. I grabbed up at his dangling arm and hand, but missed.
“Mark!” I cried.
She carried him through the crowd. I caught only a glimpse of the back of his head before the legs of the kids standing around encircled me.
“Mark!” I screamed. The tears flowed down my cheeks and into my mouth. I spit out the salty taste. I tried getting to my feet, but I couldn’t. The kids were pressing in on me. Suddenly a sharp blow to the back of my head sent me sprawling. I landed facedown on the floor.
“Get up from there!” one of the ladies yelled.
As I struggled to get up, she yanked on the back of my shirt.
“What the hell is going on? A kid faints and you start some big commotion.”
She pulled me to my feet by my collar, dragged me across the room, and flung me into the corner.
“Now, stand there till you learn to behave yourself!”
“But…” I turned to tell her Mark was my brother.
She slapped me hard across the face, slamming my head into the wall.
“Shut up!” she screamed.
I buried my face deep into the corner and cried. She clapped her hands together twice and the room fell to a dead silence. It was as though the clapping of her hands made everyone disappear.
I stood in the corner for the rest of the afternoon and on into the night. I heard the dining-room ladies setting the tables for dinner. They were whispering among themselves. I was sure it was about me. I kept my eyes to the wall and thought about Mark.
As I watched the tiny spots on the wall in front of me, and listened to the ladies’ quiet chatter, I began to hear the sound of the oncoming feet. It came on like the roll of thunder. It grew louder and louder until the vibrating wall and the sound were one. Then suddenly, silence. One last explosion followed the command to “Sit.” The tinkling and clinking began. During the course of the dinner, it built from tinkle to clatter, then fell back to silence. As the thunder moved out of the room, I began to think of how to see Mark. I had a plan.
After what seemed forever, the dining-room lights were switched off. I wanted to leave the corner, but I was afraid to.
I was startled when the lights went back on.
“What are ya doin’ here, darlin’?” the lady asked.
“I’m being punished,” I said.
“Well, git along with ya,” she said in a gentle way. “Git yourself ta bed.”
I left the dining room but went straight to the nurse’s office. I sat in the dark hallway outside to think. The light from her window projected a small boxlike square on the opposite wall. I stared at it.
“Can I help you?” the nurse asked.
My heart stopped. I didn’t expect her to be in the hall. I expected her to be in the office.
“Sonny?”
“Yes.”
“Are you all right? Do you have another headache?”
“No,” I said. “I’m looking for Mark.”
“Mark who?”
“The boy who got sick in the dining room.”
“Well, why not come in?” she said as she pushed open her door. “Are you friends?” she asked.
“Well, a little more than friends.”
“Oh, you’re buddies!” She smiled. “Well, Mark is a pretty sick little boy.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“We’re not sure.”
“Is he gonna die?”
“No,” she said. She gave my shoulders a hug. “They’ll just keep him until they find out what’s making him sick. He’ll be all right. Now, don’t worry about him.” She handed me a lollipop.
I took the lollipop to bed with me. I gave Doggie a lick.
“Doggie,” I whispered, “here’s the plan. Tomorrow we gotta stash away some food. We’re gettin’ outta here. After lights-out tomorrow, we’re going over the fence.”
Doggie was worried about the barbed wire.
“I am too,” I whispered. “But it has to be done. We gotta get out to see Mark.
I finished the lollipop and put the stick on the windowsill. I slid beneath the covers.
“Gosh, Doggie, I miss him,” I whispered. “I love him, too.”
Doggie felt the same. He wondered why I hadn’t told him.
“Tell him I love him? I couldn’t do that. I only told you, and…” I paused to think. “Sometimes Mom. I told Sal once, but I made sure he didn’t hear me.”
Doggie wondered why.
“Why? I don’t know why. I guess people don’t wanna hear that stuff. I never hear nobody say it. The only ones who ever said it to me, outside of you, and Mom sometimes, was Sister Ann Charles and Martha. Ah, Doggie, why don’t you go to sleep?”
The following day I collected a roll or some bread at each meal. I stuffed them inside my shirt and then hid them in my cabinet. By nightfall I was ready to go. Instead of changing into my pajamas, I just slipped them over my street clothes. My pajamas were so big, nobody noticed I was fully dressed. I lay beneath the covers and waited. Rain began to fall heavily against the barred window.
I slipped out of bed and stripped off my pajamas. I took my shoes from beneath the pillow. Doggie and I were off.
I crouched down on the floor. The night sounds were loud. There were coughs and sniffles, creaks and squeaks. I was sure everyone was awake and could see me. My heart was pounding. I crawled across the dormitory floor toward the door. I reached the door. So far so good.
I crawled down the darkened hallway toward the playroom. I was just outside the door when I heard someone singing in the playroom.
“Oh, my gosh,” I whispered. “I don’t know any other way out of the building.”
I decided I would lie in the shadows of the hall and wait. A long time passed before the Irish lady opened the playroom door. I pressed close against the wall and held my breath. She wasn’t three feet from me. She set down her pail. She nearly laid it on my fingers. She closed the playroom door, lifted her pail with a grunt, and went on to the next door. She fumbled for the knob, then found it. She pushed open the door and went in.
I began to breathe again. I slipped into the playroom.
I stood by the glass door and watched the rain beat against the glass. I looked far across the courtyard at the high fence and the barbed wire.
“Well”—I took a deep breath—“here goes.”
I opened my laundry bag and placed Doggie inside.
“Now, don’t go and eat everything up,” I told him. “We need that stuff for Mark and for us, for later.”
He said he wouldn’t.
I slid the bolt back and pushed open the door. The wind whipped the rain hard into my face. It was cold and stinging. I closed the door behind me and stood flat against the glass door.
The yard seemed to be about a million miles wider than it was this afternoon. The rain splashed heavily against the gray stones and into puddles. I started running. I ran as fast as I could. The rain pelted against me. As the fence drew nearer to me, I prepared myself to leap. I did. I managed to dig my fingers around the small wire boxes of the mesh fence about a third of the way up. I held on. I pressed my arm against my laundry bag to keep it against my body. I strained to pull myself up farther. I wedged the toes of my shoes as far into the tiny boxes as I could. I was slipping off the fence.
Suddenly the yard was flooded with light.
“What the hell are you doing up there?” a man yelled.
He scared me. I couldn’t move anywhere but down. I tumbled off the fence. The man was on top of me before I could even turn to look in his direction.
“I gotcha,” he growled.
And he did. He had my coat collar so tight in his grasp I could hardly breathe.
“Stop!” I choked out. “I can’t breathe!”
“Who’s there?” a lady yelled.
“Some damn kid’s trying to escape,” the man yelled back.
“Let go!” I said as I yanked myself away from his grip.
“Bring him over here,” she said.
He regripped my collar and pulled me to my feet. I grabbed my laundry bag as he dragged me toward the lady. I stumbled but managed to stay on my feet. We reached the lady.
“Take him to Mrs. Garrison, John,” she said.
“Come on,” he growled. He yanked me into the playroom.
It wasn’t until I was in the hallway that I realized just how wet I was. My feet sloshed inside my shoes. We reached Mrs. Garrison’s office. I was frightened. He knocked lightly on her door. I didn’t think he could do anything lightly.
They Cage the Animals at Night Page 20