were small and piggish, gleaming with that cruel cunning that Freeman had seen in dozens of faces in group homes across the state. The porcine gaze was fixed on a thin, pale boy who looked to be about ten.
'I didn't do nothing, Deke,' the thin boy said, a reaction so quick and rehearsed that Freeman could tell he had been the target of Deke's bullying before.
'Sure, Dipes. Better go change yourself, or we'll have to get the nurse to do it.' At the word 'nurse,' Deke had launched into a mocking, effeminate tone. 'Don't want her to see your stinky, do you?'
Since the boys had come into the Blue Room, Freeman had said nothing. He'd been sitting on his cot, pretending that the other boys didn't matter. One of the guys gave him an appraising, new-kid look, and another started to wave, but Freeman turned his attention to the book he'd swiped from Bondurant's office. The book was boring, one of those inspirational and motivational hardbacks that told you how to prosper with the help of the Lord. But holding the book allowed him to watch the room out of the corners of his eyes while trying to size up the pecking order. Deke seemed to be the biggest pecker of them all.
Deke began dancing around the thin boy, making a motion as if he were wiping himself with toilet paper. A few of the others were watching, and Deke grew bolder in front of his audience. 'Come on, Dipes. Don't be a poopie pants.'
Laughter rippled across the room. The boy who had tried to wave to Freeman was biting his thumbnail, glancing nervously at the door. Freeman wondered where the house parents were. He'd been in enough group homes to know that the children were never supposed to be left unsupervised, though it happened way too often Dipes retreated from the teasing, passing Freeman's bunk. Deke pursued his quarry, giving Freeman a smirk that said, 'Watch me have a little fun.'
Freeman quickly turned his attention back to the words on the page, searching for vapid inspiration. He felt sorry for Dipes, but his best bet was to stay on the sidelines for now. Maybe Deke had enemies among the kids, but the odds were just as good that Deke ruled the roost with no opposition. And survivors didn't survive by turning into Defenders of the Weak.
A tall guy in an olive army jacket, who had enough of a hint of facial hair to be fifteen, followed Deke like a second lieutenant. Dipes reached the corner and cowered as the two older boys jabbed at him and sneered. 'Dipey wipes, dipey wipes,' said Deke, his taunts somehow made even more obscene by his singsong chanting.
A couple of the other boys gathered behind Deke, making noises in imitation of passing gas. Three kids sat quietly on their bunks. From their expressions of relief, Freeman figured they were glad that Dipes was the victim this time instead of themselves. Then Freeman made the mistake of meeting Dipes's eyes.
Help me, those small dark eyes implored.
Deke was unbuttoning his trousers and crouching as if he were going to moon Dipes. The young boy's lips trembled as he gazed past his tormentors at Freeman. The room smelled of sweat and a caged-animal tension. Freeman gripped the book in his lap so tightly that the pages wrinkled. He would be a smart soldier and keep his head low. Play all sides against each other while sizing up the situation. Like Eastwood in The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.
It wasn't fair that Dipes was small and weak. But whoever said life was supposed to be fair? If life was fair, places like this wouldn't exist. If life was fair, Freeman would have had a different father and Mom would still be alive. If life was fair, you wouldn't need second chances.
'Psst. Hey, new kid,' whispered the guy from two bunks over. He was one of the three who wasn't participating in the taunting. The boy's eyes were the strangest color of green that Freeman had ever seen, like sick moss.
Most of the other boys had crowded around Deke, so Freeman couldn't see what sort of new insult Deke had dreamed up. From the sound of the laughter, it must have been a good one. Freeman decided he could risk replying without attracting attention.
'What?' he said to the boy out of the corner of his mouth, Eastwood-style, as if he were annoyed at being distracted from his book.
'You going to help him?'
The other two kids watched from their bunks, awaiting Freeman's response. Freeman closed the book. 'Are you?'
At the end of the dorm, Dipes started crying, and Deke imitated the boy's sobs. The fuzz-faced teen in the army jacket joined in as well. A few others added their wet grunts to the chorus.
The boy who had spoken to Freeman lay back on his bunk and stared at the ceiling.
To hell with it. Freeman stood and dropped the heavy book to the floor. It fell flat against the tiles, the noise like a gunshot. The crowd around Dipes fell silent, waiting for Deke's reaction.
Oh, crap. Freeman could feel the eyes on him, sizing him up. Freeman had been on the other side many times, checking out a recent arrival, wondering how the new kid's presence would affect the group dynamics. He'd already blown his chance to blend into the background. The next best thing was to channel old Clint, circa the Sergio Leone spaghetti fests, and grow a rawhide exterior.
'Who's this dickweed?' Deke asked the room. Freeman wondered if Deke knew what the phrase 'rhetorical question' meant.
Dipes, forgotten now, wore a grateful expression as he slunk to his cot. Freeman yawned, then slowly bent over and picked the book off the floor. 'Sorry. Dropped my book.'
Deke crossed the room in a hurry, the teen in the army jacket clinging to him like a shadow. The crowd that had gathered around Dipes was now behind Deke, encircling Freeman's bunk.
Freeman held the book out so that Deke could see it. Deke snatched it away, his brow furrowed and his nose twitching as he tried to read the title. Finally he gave up and tossed it down, then kicked it and sent it skating across the floor like a rectangular hockey puck.
'Sucky book,' Deke said.
'I agree,' Freeman said. 'A literal travesty.'
They stared at each other, silence replacing the taunts that had filled the room a minute earlier.
'Where you from?' Deke said.
'Durham.'
'Juvie court sent you?'
Being a juvenile court referral carried a little extra cache among junior thugs, but Freeman had taken a different road into the system. Not that he minded lying to Deke, he just didn't want to be recruited into Deke's army. Unless it was necessary for survival.
'Nope, never been caught,' Freeman said, as coolly as he could, though the perspiration gathered under his armpits and his heart pounded like a monkey's drum.
Somebody kicked the book back to Deke, who picked it up. 'What's your name?'
'Theodore Roosevelt.'
The teen in the army jacket snickered. Deke's expression didn't change. 'What kind of pussy name is that?'
'It's long for Teddy,' said Army Jacket.
'Teddy bear,' Deke said, his plump lips parting in a smile. 'A pussy name for a pussy boy who reads pussy books.'
'No, doofus, that was a president,' said one of the crowd.
Deke rubbed his crew cut, doubtful. 'So, Teddy, you mighta noticed, this fucking place ain't Durham.'
'YOU Can say that again,' Freeman said.
'This fucking place ain't Durham,' said Army Jacket. A few of the boys laughed. Deke elbowed Army Jacket in the ribs, punishment for hogging his spotlight. Silence fell over the room.
Deke held up the book. 'How come you're reading this stupid book and you ain't even been to classes yet?'
'Stole it. From Bondurant's office.'
'Bullshit.'
Freeman shrugged, as if he could care less whether Deke believed him or not. He hoped his indifference would be taken for toughness and not arrogance. Deke was heavy-set and outweighed Freeman by forty pounds. Freeman might have the edge in speed, but he didn't want a battle on his first day.
'Why don't you read some of it?' Freeman said. 'See if it's Bondurant's kind of stuff.'
