The Goats (6 page)

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Authors: Brock Cole

BOOK: The Goats
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Maddy looked at him silently over his desk. It seemed strange to her that she had not realized at once that this man was her enemy.
“Now, about the boy.” Wells began to fuss with some papers on his desk, as if the boy were some last, minor detail. “I don't think you have anything to worry about from that direction. He's a nice boy. Quiet, wouldn't you say, Miss Haskell?”
Miss Haskell agreed. Howie was very quiet.
“No, you don't have to worry about that, Mrs. Golden. Howie wouldn't harm your daughter.” He smiled as if it were, really, only a joke. “He's about two inches shorter than she is, for one thing. You know girls at that age mature more quickly.”
Maddy hadn't worried about the boy hurting Laura. She had never even thought of such a thing. In all her imaginings of what might happen, this had eluded her. She looked alertly from the man to the woman, wondering what other horrors might be concealed.
She heard Wells explain that they were trying to notify the boy's parents. She understood that there was some difficulty about getting in touch with them. They were in Turkey. Digging, excavating. She wondered vaguely if they were some kind of engineer.
Wells and Miss Haskell were standing now, so Maddy got up. There was nothing more she could learn there. They would be in touch, of course. Miss Haskell explained about the reservation she had made at a local motel. She was sure that Maddy would be comfortable.
“Perhaps Mrs. Golden would like to eat with us
in the dining hall tonight. What's the menu, Hilda?”
Miss Haskell looked doubtful. “Corned-beef hash, I think.”
“Ah! Cat's vomit. That's what the campers call it. Cat's vomit.” Mr. Wells smiled at Maddy. She was afraid he might wink at her.
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.

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