Cages
Page 8
I nearly fumbled the catch, but luckily it bounced off my palm and I got a second shot to grab it. Miller South IPA. “It’s warm.”
“Where am I supposed to get ice around here? You people, never pleased.”
Well, where did you get the beer? I wondered. The tab popped with a satisfying hiss, though it didn’t fizz like I expected it to.
Kenny looked at me expectantly. “Bottoms up, Sam.”
I took a deep breath and took a sip. Don’t gag! Don’t gag! Oh my God, it’s awful!
“Good stuff, huh?” Kenny put one finger under the can, guiding it back to my mouth. “You gotta chug it, you wanna do it right.”
I had no idea how anyone could drink beer as a beverage. It was the most vile thing I had ever put in my mouth. But I tried to think like James, remember his alpha-dog rules. You gotta look badass if you want to be treated like a badass. So I chugged that can as fast as I could, trying to pour it past my taste buds. I finished it with what I hoped sounded like a satisfied gasp, intended to hide the disgusted snarl.
“Bobby!” Kenny called to the cooler guard. “Looks like Sam here needs another.”
I drank at least two more, but I was starting to get a little loose. Or tight. Isn’t that how Hemingway referred to it in The Sun Also Rises? Tight? I was laughing easily now and Kenny turned out to be a real funny guy. He did an impression of Remi that was spot-on. The only harsh tone I remember at that point was when some skinny kid approached him and asked for something, but Kenny had punched him hard in the arm and he went away. Even the beer was starting to taste good. The Blind Hall was a good place.
“Hey,” Kenny said, getting really close to my face.
“Hey,” I responded.
“You a virgin, buddy?”
I went quiet then, because I didn’t want to lie to my buddy, but I was ashamed that my answer was yes.
“No worries, man, everybody’s been there. But I can take care of that for you.”
I must have given him a funny look because he punched me in the arm. “Not me, you idiot. Girls. I got girls here that’ll do for you.”
Another beer would have been a godsend at that point, to calm my fluttering heart, but Kenny didn’t offer me any more. “I don’t know, Kenny.”
“No worries, man, no worries. We’ll start you off slow.” Kenny beckoned to the throbbing groups at the door end of the hall and one shape peeled away. She approached slowly, a skinny girl maybe a year older than me. No boobs, at least none I could see in the oversized shirt she was wearing. Black hair, sunken, hungry eyes. “Hurry up over here. Now, Sam. This is Gail.”
“Hi Sam,” she said in monotone.
“Hi.” The buzz was starting to wear off a little, and that sinister feeling was rising up again.
“You two go back to the end there and we’ll give you some privacy,” Kenny said, pushing both of us toward the far side of the hall, where no one else had gathered. I held Gail’s hand, a limp collection of bird-bones.
“You look like a nice guy,” Gail said lifelessly.
“I am,” I said, taken aback.
She glanced back at Kenny. “I really don’t want to do this. But I will if you make me.”
Even through the beer I felt like a cad. What was I doing here? I was the worst kind of scum. Taking advantage of people. Using them.
She must have seen the confusion on my face, because she quickly offered to pretend that we had done something, so Kenny wouldn’t think I was a wuss. She hugged me close, feeling more vulnerable than I would have thought.
“How did you get this way?” I asked, finally finding my voice.
“No small talk,” she said. “It’s nothing special.”
We waited out of sight behind the husk of a brand new outdoor air conditioner unit abandoned here when construction fizzled for about fifteen minutes, when she pulled hard on her hair and declared that had been enough time. Now that it was over we didn’t hold hands on the way back. She walked faster than me, pulled, I could tell, by whatever was in Kenny’s front pocket. He reached in and gave it to her. She beelined back into her group.
“She’s good, right? My most popular.”
Suddenly the nagging disappointment I felt was replaced by relief. Most popular is something you want to hear about an album or a car. Not about someone with whom you could have been sexually intimate.
“Sam, I want to talk to you about something. We’re friends now, right? Friends?” Kenny put his arm around me.
“Sure.”
“Well, there’s some rumors going around. Rumors about you. About Conyers.”
I stopped breathing. Had I been found out? “I don’t know what you mean.”
Kenny frowned, the first time I had really seen him do so. “What you got going on with the Principal just ain’t gonna fly around here, brother.”
I backed away from him, towards the double doors. “Nothing. I got nothing going on.”
Kenny shook his head. “Not wise, Sam. Not after all the trouble I went to so we could be friends.” He gestured for Bobby, the cooler guard, and the big kid stepped forward.
James had always told me that being aware of my environment was key to surviving Quarantine. Home court advantage works, Sam. If you’re in his territory, he’s got you dead to rights. If you get stuck all you can do is try to change your circumstances. So I turned on my heel and ran, tripping over and stepping on the moaning carpet of teenage life that covered the floor like dozens of old rugs. I burst through the double doors and pushed off the opposite wall to keep running down the hall towards the stairs. The first flight took me past the chain-locked entrance to the gymnasium itself, but the third would put me back on the Dorm Hall.
Inches away from the bar-handle that would open my path to freedom, a hand caught hold of my shirt and yanked me back. I fell on my attacker and we both tumbled down the stairs, me landing heavily on the other boy, who I guessed was Bobby. The breath had been knocked out of him, but he still held tight to my shirt, so I wriggled out of it and shoved roughly through the doors to salvation.
“On the floor!” A guard was in my face, the night watchman, MP5 in hand. I dropped instantly, feeling oddly safe, even as the barrel came closer. The guard looked down the stairs and seemed to find no sight of my assailant. He turned back to me. “What are you doing?”
“Just trying to go back to sleep, sir,” I muttered against the linoleum.
The guard sighed, as if mentally calculating how much trouble I was worth. Not much, it seemed, because he motioned me to my feet and sent me on my way.
I hit my bunk and all the air whistled out of me. Still a little buzzed, still terrified of what I had just escaped.
“Got a taste of the Blind Hall, huh?” Dave called sleepily. “How was it?”
I looked down at him. “You ever been?”
He opened his eyes and returned my look. “Once was all I needed.”
I lay back on my mattress. “You and me both, man.”
Blind Hall was a symptom of a much more subtle Quarantine sickness. Remembering the bodies on the floor, the leering way Kenny had boozed me up, I recognized another of my mother’s lessons about history. Kenny was the strongman. Conyers was the real power. The Hall was a lanced boil Conyers allowed to ooze to lower the pressure threatening to explode at any moment. I would never go back there, even if Kenny didn’t have it in for me. It would be too much like submission to our dear and benevolent principal, and in spite of my recent servitude to the man, I had found there was a line I didn’t want to cross.
Gail did stay in my thoughts the rest of the night though, and I wondered: with five years left to me alone in this hellhole, would I be able to stay away?
Rumors pass by osmosis in Quarantine. Secrets no one should know seep from the cracks in the walls, drip out through the bullet holes.Over three hundred volatile souls huddled together in a large concrete prison forms a rumor mill gestalt where everyone knows everything about everyone.It was naive of me to think my meeti
ngs with Conyers wouldn't be noticed. Along with rumors and social hierarchy, Quarantine is built on routine. A change in one kid's routine won't slide under the radar for very long.In the two weeks since I began my furtive jaunts to the Principal's office I started getting more accusing stares stares and glowering looks. Kenny fueling it, no doubt. Guys would lunge at me in the hall, trying to get me to flinch. I'd like to say I never jumped, but I did. In class wads of paper and spitballs were thrown. Before long it was clear my social status had been irrevocably sealed and I was branded the worst thing you could be in Quarantine: a Rat.
One day a gang of four boys tried to shove me into the Blind Hall. I recognized them as Kenny Stoppard's gang, Bobby the cooler guard among them. They ignored my protests and kicked my feet out from under me, pulling me toward the dark maw of the Hall. I clawed at the walls, tearing down posters and signs. I even managed to snake one finger into a bullet hole, but a quick swat from Bobby stripped some skin off and freed my hand. Mere feet from the threshold of Blind Hall a guard appeared out of nowhere, snapping his MP5 to bear at my four captors. They didn't seem too eager to obey his commands to release me, but after it was clear than the guard wasn't going to back down they pushed me away and melted into the depths of the Hall. I wondered if the guard was Biff, but I couldn't see through his facemask and he turned smartly around and resumed his rounds as soon as he was certain I was in the clear.
I avoided the Blind Hall at all costs after that. I even found a different route to get to the gym.
After one meeting with Conyers I was walking back to the cafeteria, dreading the always humiliating seat hunt that saw whole rows of empty chairs declared taken (I often had to sit at the broken table near the trash cans, if there were no seats near Dave or Ben) when Alan Tallart slid greasily around a corner, grinning. "Hiya, Sam. Getting cozy with the Principal, I see. Your nose sure looks pretty brown these days."
"You're one to talk. Better a brown-noser than a pet."
Alan's smile slipped for just a moment, before it returned full force. "I hear you had some trouble with Kenny Stoppard's bunch."
I started to push past him but he took one casual step out, blocking my way. "Nothing serious," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Just a misunderstanding."
"Right. Look, Crafty, I think we can help each other out here." Alan slid his backpack off and clasped my left arm warmly above the elbow. "You know, I'm pretty close with Kenny."
Of course he was. Alan moonlighted as a Blind Hall enforcer.
"I think I can get him off your back...if you help me out." Alan was leering now, all pretense of friendliness gone.
"What do you need me for? You got a better in with Conyers than I do."
Alan looked confused for a moment, then chuckled. "Come on, Sam. I'm not stupid. It's common knowledge what you're up to, at least to people in the know. People like Kenny and me. Just give me what you've been giving Conyers and I'll call Kenny off. Cool?"
I simply stared blankly. "I don't know what you mean." Why would Alan want information on other students? Blackmail, maybe? But nothing I told Conyers was a secret to any other student. It was just stuff no teacher could ever find out on their own.
Alan was still for a moment and I began to get edgy. You never knew when he might decide to get rough. I was no weakling, but Alan was out of my league when it came to casual violence. Instead, he breathed deeply once and tried a different tactic. "Let me tell you a story about your buddy Remi and your buddy Conyers."
"I know Remi used to give out drugs. Conyers stopped him."
Alan laughed. "You and I both know that's not true. Oh, he stopped Remi from giving it out, sure. When Remi got busted, he ordered all the drugs destroyed. Standard issue, right? Just what an upstanding Principal would do. But then two weeks later Kenny notices something odd. He's got fewer customers than usual, which is weird since Remi's bust actually improved his clientele. Turns out there's new competition, but no one can tell where the stuff's coming from. No one else is dealing in the Blind Hall, but kids are getting their fix anyway. Well, no secret's safe in Quarantine, so it didn't take us long to figure it out."
He leaned forward, peering into my eyes. "If you wanted something, you wrote it down on a slip of paper and put it in a locker, along with money. The next day, the kid finds his stuff waiting for him in his cell. We kept our eyes open and do you know who it was? One of Conyers's pet guards! Conyers hadn't destroyed the stuff after all. He doesn't give a crap if we deal drugs in here. He just wants his cut. So," he said, sliding back, frowning at me. "Now you know that I already know the whole story, so there's no reason to keep clammed. We both know that while you may be a spineless little worm, you're probably not a rat, not after the stuff you pulled. You give me some of Remi's stash, and I can get Kenny off your back."
I laughed. Not the smartest thing to do, in hindsight, but I had suddenly realized what all this was about. Kenny and Alan thought I had found Remi's stash and was dealing it to Conyers! Seen through their eyes I was an impressive manipulator, playing both sides for my own profit, and for an instant I was sorry not to be as clever as they thought I was.
Alan stood, his face strawberry, hands clenched. "Don't you mess with me, Crafty. I will beat you so hard –”
Someone down the hall cleared his throat; a masked and ready guard at the end of the hall. He looked down at us and shook his head silently. Alan seethed for a moment, looking up at the cameras. I knew what he was thinking. The basketball championships were only two weeks away. Conyers would let him get away with a lot for those two weeks. But finally he came to the same conclusion I did, that basketball or no basketball, Conyers wouldn't tolerate an altercation with one of his guards.
Alan kicked the wall opposite us savagely and turned back to me. "This ain't over. You made the biggest mistake of your life just now. I wouldn't sleep too soundly if I were you." He walked away then, keeping his distance from the guard and he turned the corner. The guard looked at me, shook his head silently and followed.
I picked up my bag and walked slowly to the cafeteria.
After dinner I told Dave what happened. He didn't hide his concern. "Do you think Remi really has any meth stashed in here somewhere?"
I blinked. "I don't know. Why?"
"Because that's the only way I see out of you getting a beating. I've known a lot of rough kids from playing sports, but he's the meanest by far. He won't let it go until you come crawling to him. He's no coward and he knows he can take you in a fight."
"So I should just bow to him?"
"That's all the advice I have to give." Dave gave me a stern look. "At least as long as you're still a rat."
Conyers was not happy when I told him I was planning to ask Kate to the homecoming dance.
"Why not?" I crossed my arms stubbornly. In all this time, not once had he told me a single trick or exercise or anything that might stave off the onset of the Beast transformation.
He sighed deeply, fiddling with his glasses with his one left hand. "I told you why."
I scowled. "I don't even know what I'm doing here. Why am I even talking to you?
Devilish grin. "Because you needed a daddy figure to tell you it would all be okay. And it will be, you know. Of course it will be."
The pain of seeing the Beast attack was fading and I was coming to regret placing my trust in Conyers. Clearly he knew zilch about preventing the transformation. He was just using me as his eyes and ears amongst the teenagers in the Quarantine. He was as dirty as they come, selling kids their own drugs back to them. Still, I had found some release in talking to him, as if he were my confessor. Perhaps I was still enough of a child to need an adult to tell me the things I was worried about weren't important, that, as he said, everything was going to be all right. I was disgusted with myself. "I don't want to come here every day anymore."
He raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Got better things to do?"
"People are calling me a rat. They say I'm spilling secrets to you."
I took it, sulking. "That's not why I come here. I don't tell you everything."
"Yes you do, Sam. So what, people think you're a rat. Deal with it. You'll continue to come here every day, or there will be consequences."
I bit the peppermint in two. "What consequences?"
"You want to ask little Kate out? Too bad, she'll be locked in the Bell. You want Alan Tallart to leave you alone? I can guarantee he doesn't. You like having the guards' protection? I'll lift the edict I had to put out saying that you were to be watched over. They don't care much for you after your little banner incident, you know."
"Crap," I said softly.
"I have a million wonderful ways of making your life a living hell here. Continue to feed me information and you never have to see any of them."
I avoided Alan as best I could, more or less sprinting from class to class. I saw him twice, staring at me, shaking his head and leering. It was clear from his expression; a reckoning was coming. All my plans had backfired from that one moment of weakness when I had swallowed Conyers's lies. James would have been embarrassed to have seen me, cowering in my classrooms like a frightened puppy. I had started off well, done what he said. At one point Remi, Dave and Ben would have followed me anywhere, but I had squandered that trust. Who the hell knew what Remi would do to me once he got out of solitary? I was all alone again.
Two days after Conyers's threats, there was a lockdown during club time. Someone had gone Beast in the Math wing, which was only two halls down from where we were in the English wing. The door automatically sealed shut and we all assumed our panic positions, desks overturned and us hidden behind them. I was surprised to see Kate next to me, flattening herself against the floor.
I haven't talked much about what Kate looked like, because I only saw her as a worthy opponent at first, not as a real girl. But as soon as I thought about asking her to homecoming, I started to notice little details. She wasn't tall, but she carried herself so upright that she didn't seem shorter than anyone else. She had long black hair that seemed to have some natural curl in it she wished were gone (she straightened it often, but you could see the curl anyway) which she tied up in a thick ponytail. Her face was serious. The way a cliff face can be. Thick hipster glasses. In any case, she looked good enough for me to be attracted once I realized there was girl behind the acerbic wit.