Lex was the oldest of the bunch, except for Socrates. He was maybe twenty-seven and dull eyed. He was big and strong. That counted for something in the street but you needed more than bulk against the desperation of incarceration. In the lockup you needed courage and concentration, you needed friendship and you could never back down even when going ahead meant for sure that you were dead.
Before Socrates finished his meal he palmed a small glass salt-shaker.
?What you in for, James?? Socrates asked the scared fat boy. In two days James had been beaten up twice. The other young men sensed his weakness and ganged up on him. Lex left him alone, however, because Socrates made it clear that he didn't want Lex to mess around.
?Stealin',? James said. ?I broke into a Stop n' Save market but they caught me.?
?You don't look like you been starvin', man. Why you stealin'??
?I'ont know. I wanted some money.?
?What kinda money you gonna get outta some little store?? Socrates asked. ?If you get a hundred dollars that would be a lot.?
James pouted and looked away. He tried to hang around Socrates because the other young men left him alone under the older man's gaze.
?You been busted before??
?Once.?
?Stealin'??
?Uh-huh.?
?How old are you??
?Seventeen. I look younger but I'm seventeen.?
Socrates watched the baby-faced green-eyed boy.
?You got to learn how to fight if they put you in jail, James,? he said finally. ? 'Cause they gonna tear you down in here. Tear you up.?
?I know.?
?Uh-uh, boy. You don't know. I know. I been there and there ain't no nothin' like it that you could think of. This here is just a lark compared to what you got in store.?
For two days Socrates and his chain mates had been quartered in a barracks. They had a small recreation yard that was blocked off from other similar barracks and yards. Each compound contained about eighteen prisoners that were being held for trial or something else. Some of the barracks held very tough men who made kissing noises through the razor wire at the young men who were held with Socrates.
?If you was in one'a them other cages, James, they would eat you up.?
James' fearful eyes flashed for a moment and then he clamped down his jaw to crush the fear.
?Get you somethin' sharp, James,? Socrates said. ?Some kinda knife or edge. And you stand up. You fight, son. 'Cause you already here an' ain't nobody gonna help you when I'm gone.?
Two hours later Socrates was transferred out of the Trancas detention facility. As a good-bye present he gave James the jagged bottom of the broken saltshaker.
They met in the judge's chambers. It wasn't a trial, just an inquiry, that was what Judge Radell said. He was an older white man with white hair and blue veins at his temples. There was a hint of blue in his washed-out eyes and an air of certainty about him that made Socrates nervous.
?Now is this a property disagreement or a question of assault?? Judge Radell asked.
?A little of both, Your Honor,? Kenneth Brantley, the Cherry Hill Development Company lawyer, said. He was there with Burris and Trapps. The two men were dressed neatly in suits. Burris's jaw was still swollen and there were cuts across Trapps's face from his spill in the alley. ?Mr. Fortlow was illegally occupying our property and he assaulted Mr. Trapps and Burris when they were merely executing their job.?
?That's not true, Your Honor,? an unusually subdued Brenda Marsh said.
