Stop stop stop he heard, it's the knife, he thought, get rid of the knife, there was the tall fence to his left and before he could think he'd leapt up and rolled over it, pivoting on his chest over the top, ripping his coat open and landing on his hands and knees. he heard, it's the knife, he thought, get rid of the knife, there was the tall fence to his left and before he could think he'd leapt up and rolled over it, pivoting on his chest over the top, ripping his coat open and landing on his hands and knees. Stay down stay down Stay down stay down the cop was screaming, the knife had flown off somewhere into the dirt. Everything was in slow motion now, he wanted to stand up but the cop had his gun trained on him, does he see you dropped the knife? Get up. Get up get up get up. He might shoot me. No get up. Focus on your legs. He was running again. Do not shoot if he shoots you will feel it before you hear it, it won't feel like anything, he glanced back again, he had a quick impression of the cop, an older black man, talking into the radio on his collar, the Baron must have stopped running because now the cop was pointing the gun in a different direction, away from Isaac. the cop was screaming, the knife had flown off somewhere into the dirt. Everything was in slow motion now, he wanted to stand up but the cop had his gun trained on him, does he see you dropped the knife? Get up. Get up get up get up. He might shoot me. No get up. Focus on your legs. He was running again. Do not shoot if he shoots you will feel it before you hear it, it won't feel like anything, he glanced back again, he had a quick impression of the cop, an older black man, talking into the radio on his collar, the Baron must have stopped running because now the cop was pointing the gun in a different direction, away from Isaac.

Entire areas of his vision were blurred out but he forced himself to keep running, across a parking lot between two small office buildings, he plunged through a row of bushes, going back in the direction he'd come.

10. Poe

The next morning, he waited in his cell for several hours to get an escort out to the yard. His cellmate had still not come back. A guard came by to tell him that his lawyer would be visiting tomorrow, but Poe did not want to think about the lawyer. Finally Clovis banged on the bars. "Dwayne busy?" Poe said.

Clovis didn't answer, so Poe followed behind him, down to the end of the tier, down the stairs, through the cellblock, there was dust floating in the light from the windows, close your eyes and you'd think it was any locker room, stinking like socks and toilet stalls and moldy cement, people talking too loud, everyone saying stupid s.h.i.t. He followed Clovis into the main corridor and then out through the metal detectors into the yard, open air, sand and sunshine, blue sky. Practically like the beach in summertime. Pretend the towers are lifeguards.

Clovis still hadn't said a word and everyone took notice when Poe arrived at the weight pile, either smiling in a way he didn't like or turning so they didn't have to talk to him. He got nervous immediately but he found a place against the fence and acted like he didn't notice. Black Larry came over.

"Young Poe," he said, "we've been having some discussions about your future."

Poe nodded.

"I'll give you the straight dope. The consensus is we need to have a little papers party. Take a look at your charge sheets. Satisfy our own curiosity if you're amenable."

"Whatever y'all want. I don't give a f.u.c.k." Poe shrugged.

"I wouldn't be so f.u.c.kin smug if I were you," said Clovis. "Half the people in here are after you."

"Well, I know for a fact there's one of them who ain't after me, at least until he gets out of the f.u.c.kin infirmary."

"Little Man ain't s.h.i.t and I guaran- f.u.c.kin- tee you the minute you're out of our circle they'll find your f.u.c.kin corpse in a laundry tub. You're part of the minority in here, if you ain't noticed, and every single one of them n.i.g.g.e.rs been lacin up since the minute they f.u.c.kin saw you."

"Clovis," said Dwayne.

"Young Poe understands," Black Larry said to Dwayne. He looked at Poe. "Sunshine, Young Poe. The best disinfectant."

"Alright," said Poe.

"Go with him, Dwayne."

"Yo Dwayne," Clovis said.

Dwayne turned back to look.

"Bring em all back so the rest of us can get a look."

"No f.u.c.kin s.h.i.t," Dwayne said.

They pa.s.sed through the metal detectors. The detector went off but Dwayne nodded to the guard and kept walking.

"You worried, bud?" said Dwayne. " 'Cause if you are, you might as well catch it from me as opposed to them."

"I'm cool," said Poe. "I ain't causin no problems."

"That's good to hear, bud. There was a racketeering case against Black Larry, so he's got good reason to be suspicious. They charged me, too."

"What about Clovis?"

Dwayne was silent and they continued down the cellblock. When they were out of earshot of anyone, he said: "At the moment, Clovis has his own reasons."

After retrieving the folder, Poe and Dwayne went back to the yard. Black Larry took the folder and looked through it carefully, then pa.s.sed it around.

"Francis."

"Yeah," said Poe.

"What's that?" Clovis said.

"William Francis Poe," said Black Larry. "That's his name."

"This is still bulls.h.i.t," said Clovis. "A charge is just a f.u.c.kin charge."

"Murder One," said Dwayne.

"Is there anyone to roll over on, Young Poe?"

"No," Poe said quickly. "It's on me."

"Well that still don't mean s.h.i.t."

"It'll do for now," said Black Larry. He reached behind him and pulled out a jug of pruno and they all drank from it. The mood lightened, they drank the rest of the pruno, Poe sat against the bench and everyone relaxed. The rest of the day went like normal, there were the usual comings and goings only Poe got drunk, he sat quietly with the sun in his face, he was feeling good, there was a strong breeze, he was feeling easy about things and then he was thinking of Lee, it was the last time he'd been drunk. He thought about calling her. It was too embarra.s.sing. He'd called his mother and she wasn't home, they would have to work out a schedule, the phones only worked collect. His lawyer would be coming, sometime tomorrow, the lawyer would only want one thing from him.

He was thinking about that, there was a hawk high up over the yard, hovering, it was hovering in the breeze like someone had it on a string, he watched it there for a long time.

"Wake up," said Dwayne.

The only others left at the weight pile were Black Larry, Dwayne, and Clovis. Everyone else was gone.

"I'm awake."

"Need you to pay attention to something," said Black Larry.

Poe got up from the bench and Black Larry sat down, ran his fingers through his blond pompadour, picked up a dumbbell and began curling it, he might have been a surfer lifting weights on the beach in California, the one they always showed on television. A good- looking guy, Black Larry, he had an easy way about him, a juror had once fallen in love with him. Dwayne and Clovis looked relaxed, they could have been talking about football, but with the faintest nod of his chin, Dwayne indicated a guard on the other side of the yard, pacing near the fence.

"See that toad? The skinny little f.u.c.ker that's been avoiding looking over here?"

"Him?"

"Don't f.u.c.kin point," said Clovis. He slapped Poe's hand down. "Jesus f.u.c.kin Christ this guy."

"Clovis," said Black Larry. "Why don't we just stay on message?" He looked up from his bench and dropped the dumbbell into the sand.

Clovis said: "That guy over there is gonna be lookin for Black Larry tomorrow morning, the hallway between the showers and the laundry room. It's a quiet place where people can have a talk. In case you can't see him from here, he's a skinny f.u.c.ker with a goatee, looks like a f.u.c.kin tweaker because he is one."

Poe knew what they were about to ask and he got cold all over, the hair on his neck and arms stood up. He hoped it didn't show.

"His name is Fisher," said Dwayne quietly. "He's got kind of a rat face. But his name will be on the shirt."

"Fisher," said Poe distantly.

"There won't be anyone else there. You just do what you do, that's all."

"Why?"

"The f.u.c.kin questions," said Clovis.

Black Larry raised a hand as if in surrender. "Reasonable enough, Young Poe. The answer is that Mr. Fisher over there owes us, there being some items we paid him to procure that he claims were confiscated. Mr. Fisher being a fresh hand at this game, he believes that his position allows him to rip us off."

"I'm still waitin for my trial," said Poe. "I don't want to be hitting a f.u.c.kin guard."

"Mr. Fisher isn't one of these straight- and- narrow types who's working this job to feed his family. He's a drug dealer. And even worse," Black Larry said, "he's a drug dealer who steals from his business partners. If that makes you feel better."

Poe shook his head and looked down the fence, wondered what would happen if he just started climbing. They would shoot him. That was the whole point of this place.

"Young Poe." Black Larry walked over close to him and lifted his face up, the way a father would, or a coach. "There are people on the outside who really do not like you. If you are here already it means this is your new home, and will be, most likely, for a very long time. Do you follow what I'm telling you?"

"Still," Poe said. Black Larry kept holding Poe's face and Poe didn't know what to do with his hands, he let them hang limply by his sides. He could smell Black Larry's breath, sweet from pruno, the sunburned smell of his skin, he had heavy blond eyebrows and stubble. He had soft blue eyes, he was a fair man, he wanted the best for everyone, that was the feeling he gave off.

"You've caused some trouble with our black brothers over there, but at the moment they know that if they lay a finger on you, every single one of us goes into full combat mode. Doesn't matter whether it's twenty n.i.g.g.e.rs or twenty toads. Usually there's a much longer probationary period, but you've been put on the fast track." Black Larry was looking for something in Poe's face but it seemed he didn't find it. He let go suddenly and Poe just stood there.

Clovis said, "You ain't even getting asked that much. Reason your cellmate's been on lockdown six months is for putting a knife in a toad's back, maybe you read about it in the paper, three guards and twelve inmates went to the hospital."

"No," said Poe.

"He doesn't read the newspaper," said Clovis.

Dwayne held up his hand. "Bud, you got lucky and you didn't. You got one of their upper guys you embarra.s.sed the s.h.i.t out of in front of the whole f.u.c.kin place and a lot of them would put a knife in you to get on his good side, not to mention you kicked open some old scabs between us and the DC Blacks. Causing us a good deal of ha.s.sle over matters we'd worked hard to settle."

"So I got to hit this guard."

"Not too many times," Black Larry told him. "We want him to be alive to pay us." He grinned.

"I understand the situation," said Poe. "I just need to think about it some."

Black Larry looked down at the ground and Clovis was shaking his head. "I told you guys the first f.u.c.kin time I laid eyes on this douchebag, when he first walked in the f.u.c.kin messhall."

"There's a spot for you right here," said Black Larry. He indicated the weight bench. "Or there's a spot for you out there." He jabbed his thumb at the yard, at the men on the other side, at everything. "Band of brothers, Young Poe. It's all pretty simple."

He nodded to Clovis and the two of them turned away. They walked, ambled really, slowly toward the other end of the yard. Black Larry stretched and yawned. He and Clovis approached a large group of black men who parted for them as they pa.s.sed, nodded to the DC Blacks at their weight pile, then joined a group of Hispanic prisoners standing in the shade of the building; Poe could see the men gathering around to pay respect.

"This ain't the kind of thing that gets asked twice, bud. To be honest, you're kind of f.u.c.king up more than you realize right now."

It was just him and Dwayne. Poe looked across the yard at the black men gathered on the far side, by the other weight pile, there might have been two hundred of them. There was nothing he could say. He would agree to do it and then he would figure something out. He would agree to it and get himself a few hours to think. No, he thought. You will agree to it and you will do it.

"Alright," he said to Dwayne. "I'm in."

Dwayne's face had no expression.

"Whatever else, too. You want me to stab the guy, whatever. Sometimes it just takes me a while to think."

"I was the same way," Dwayne said. "Took me a while to accept what was happening."

"You think Larry'll be good with me."

"He knows," said Dwayne. "Don't think for a second he doesn't. We were all in the same spot as you when we came in. Especially bigmouth Clovis." He walked over to the dirt by the fence and kicked his foot into it.

There was something there and Poe picked it up, a sock full of D-cell batteries.

"Separate it out," said Dwayne. "Put the batteries in your pocket. When the detector goes off you show them what you have and they'll let you pa.s.s."

Part 4

1. Isaac

The cop hadn't pursued him and he could hear the sirens of a second and then a third car and he guessed they had caught the Baron. Back to the ca.n.a.l. Get the pack. Minute or two at most-he'll be trying to explain what he's doing with all that cash.

He crossed a few residential streets without seeing anyone. It was quiet, early morning, the sun wasn't quite up. There's the park-the ca.n.a.l is in those trees. But where's that clearing? When he reached the treeline he hunkered down in the brush, trying to figure out where he was in relation to where he'd left his backpack. Sirens still coming. At least four cars now. Shouldn't have chased him in the open like that.

You could have gotten him with the knife when you sat up but you grabbed his coat instead. That's stupid to think about. No, it was a choice. Don't pretend it wasn't. There was a car coming and he crouched lower in the brush, watching a police cruiser race up the road he'd just crossed, lights flashing. Closer than you thought. They do this for a living. Forget the pack.

He didn't want to move. I'm well hidden, I can stay here until they leave. No, he thought, get up. Get further into those trees and get away from here. Stand up. Alright. I'm doing it. He stood up. Through the trees it was twenty yards to the ca.n.a.l and once he reached it, he began walking through the thin woods, away from the north end of the park, away from the road where he'd chased the Baron. Where did you leave the pack? Where is that clearing?

On the other side of the ca.n.a.l was a broad public lawn, and up ahead, on his side, he could now see where the trees ended-a gra.s.sy common area behind a row of houses. The pack is behind you. Know where it is now. There were other sirens in the distance and the closest sirens had already stopped. How many cars is that, he thought. Six. Maybe seven. A man armed with a knife-that's you. You need to keep going, you don't have time for the pack.

He felt a despair wash over him. Need to think a minute. No one can see me here. Alright, the pack is gone-accept that. Change the way you look, they saw a coat and black watch cap. Fine, he thought, it's progress. He stripped off his coat and hat and tossed them into the ca.n.a.l, along with the sheath for the knife. Better-brown sweater with a blue flannel shirt. Tuck in the shirt and pull the collar above the sweater. Schoolkid look. Christ it's even colder. Twenty- five degrees, maybe. Better that than arrested.

He stood numbly for a few seconds, glancing at the houses up ahead and the blue lights flashing behind him at the edge of the park. Forget the pack, he told himself again. Best- case scenario is you get out of here without handcuffs. Get your head straight. Don't walk too fast.

He crossed from the woods into the open area, fifty yards behind the row of single- family houses. Looking casual. Out for a stroll. Morning air clears the head. Hope no one's looking out a window. Christ you couldn't have done worse-big park on the other side. Half- mile visibility. Don't look nervous. Pray for late risers. He'll tell them you chased him with a knife, attempted murder. Who'll believe you? Shouldn't have brought it in the first place.

You are stupid. He could feel tears welling up in him. You could have gotten away the first time you woke up, then you'd have the money and the notebooks and everything else. I was so tired, he thought. No, you were stupid. This is the second time. No more mistakes.

On the other side there was a large public gazebo and two women jogging. Witnesses. Except the kid will make it. He refuses to do anything the easy way. Too far to see your face. More blue lights coming from the trailer park now-they're on your scent.