Part 11 (1/2)

It was quiet for a second, between the deep breaths the sirens take, and we heard Franny. Flesh on flesh, I thought - but it was different now. Franny made a sound that moved Harold Swallow to remember who might might help her. help her.

'Junior Jones could handle those guys,' Harold said. 'Junior Jones don't take no s.h.i.+t from n.o.body n.o.body.'

'Yes!' I said. 'And he's your friend, isn't he? He likes you better than them, doesn't he?'

'He don't like n.o.body n.o.body,' said Harold Swallow, admiringly; but suddenly his weight was off me, and he was pawing at the net, unwinding it from around me. 'Get up off your a.s.s,' he said. 'Junior does does like somebody.' like somebody.'

'Who's he like?' I asked.

'He likes everybody's sister,' said Harold Swallow, but this thought did not rea.s.sure me.

'What do you mean?' I asked him.

'Get up on your feet!' said Harold Swallow. 'Junior Jones likes everybody's sister - he told me so, man. He said, ”Everybody's sister is a good girl” - that's just what he said.'

'But what's he mean mean?' I said, trying to keep up with him, now, because he was the fastest fastest organization of human flesh at the Dairy School. As Coach Bob said, Harold Swallow could fly. organization of human flesh at the Dairy School. As Coach Bob said, Harold Swallow could fly.

We ran toward the light at the end of the footpath; we ran past where I knew I'd last heard from Franny - where the ferns were, where Iowa Bob's backfield was taking turns. I stopped there; I wanted to run into the woods there, and find her, but Harold Swallow pulled me along.

'You can't do nothing to those guys, man,' he said. 'We got to get Junior.'

Why Junior Jones would help us, I didn't know. I only thought that I would die before I found out - trying to keep up with Harold Swallow - and I thought that if Jones indeed liked 'everybody's sister,' as he apparently claimed, that didn't necessarily mean good news for Franny.

'How does he like everybody's sister?' I panted to Harold Swallow. does he like everybody's sister?' I panted to Harold Swallow.

'He likes them like he likes his own own sister,' Harold Swallow said. 'Man!' he said to me 'Why are you so sister,' Harold Swallow said. 'Man!' he said to me 'Why are you so slow slow? Junior Jones has got a sister himself, himself, man,' Harold said. 'And some dudes raped her. s.h.i.+t,' he said. 'I thought everybody knew that!' man,' Harold said. 'And some dudes raped her. s.h.i.+t,' he said. 'I thought everybody knew that!'

'There's a lot you miss, not living in the dorms,' Frank was always saying.

'Did they catch them?' I asked Harold Swallow. 'Did they catch the guys who raped Junior's sister?'

's.h.i.+t,' said Harold Swallow. 'Junior 'Junior caught them! I thought everybody knew that.' caught them! I thought everybody knew that.'

'What'd he do to them?' I asked Harold Swallow, but Harold had beaten me to Junior Jone's dorm. He was flying up the stairwell and I was easily a full flight of stairs behind him.

'Don't ask!' Harold Swallow yelled down to me. 's.h.i.+t,' he said. 'n.o.body knows what he did to them, man. And n.o.body asks.'

Where the h.e.l.l does Junior Jones live live? I wondered, pa.s.sing the third floor and climbing higher, my lungs breaking, Harold Swallow nowhere in sight. But Harold was waiting for me at the landing of the fifth and topmost floor.

Junior Jones lives in the sky sky, I thought, but Harold explained to me that most of the black athletes at the Dairy School were quartered on the top floor of this one dorm. 'Where we're out of sight, you know?' Harold asked me. 'Like f.u.c.king birdies in the nests in the tippy-tops of the trees, man,' said Harold Swallow. 'That's where the black people get put at this s.h.i.+t-a.s.s school.'

The fifth floor of the dorm was dark and hot. 'Heat rises, don't you know?' said Harold Swallow. 'Welcome to the f.u.c.kin' jungle.'

Every light in every room was out, but music music was playing and escaping from under the doors; the fifth floor of that dorm was like a tiny street of nightclubs and bars in a city observing blackout conditions; and from the rooms I heard the unmistakable shuffling of feet - dancing and dancing in the dark. was playing and escaping from under the doors; the fifth floor of that dorm was like a tiny street of nightclubs and bars in a city observing blackout conditions; and from the rooms I heard the unmistakable shuffling of feet - dancing and dancing in the dark.

Harold Swallow pounded on a door.

'What you want?' said the terrifying voice of Junior Jones. 'You want to die?'

'Junior, Junior!' said Harold Swallow, pounding harder.

'You do do want to die, don't you?' said Junior Jones, and we heard a series of locks, as if from a jail cell, unlocking the door from inside. want to die, don't you?' said Junior Jones, and we heard a series of locks, as if from a jail cell, unlocking the door from inside.

'If some mother wants to die,' said Junior Jones, 'I'll help him.' More locks unlocked; Harold Swallow and I stepped back from the door. 'Which one of you wants to die first?' said Junior Jones. Heat and a saxophone throbbed from his room; he was backlit by a candle burning on his desk, which was draped - like the coffin of a President - with the American flag. help him.' More locks unlocked; Harold Swallow and I stepped back from the door. 'Which one of you wants to die first?' said Junior Jones. Heat and a saxophone throbbed from his room; he was backlit by a candle burning on his desk, which was draped - like the coffin of a President - with the American flag.

'We need your help, Junior,' said Harold Swallow.

'You sure do,' said Junior Jones.

'They've got my sister,' I said to him. They've got Franny,' I said. 'And they're raping her.'

Junior Jones seized me by my armpits and hoisted me up to him, face to face; he leaned me, gently, against the wall. My feet felt a foot or two off the floor; I didn't struggle.

'Did you say rape rape, man?' he asked.

'Yeah, rape, rape!' said Harold Swallow, darting around us like a bee. They're raping his sister, man. They really are.'

'Your sister sister?' Junior asked me, letting me slide to the floor against the wall.

'My sister Franny,' I said, and for a moment I feared he would say, again, 'She's just another white girl, to me.' But he didn't say anything; he was crying crying - his big face as s.h.i.+ny and wet as the s.h.i.+eld of a warrior left out in the rain. - his big face as s.h.i.+ny and wet as the s.h.i.+eld of a warrior left out in the rain.

'Please?' I said to him. 'We have to hurry.' But Junior Jones started shaking his head, his tears spraying Harold Swallow and me.

'We're not gonna be in time time,' Junior said. 'No way are we going to be in time time.'

There's three three of them,' said Harold Swallow. 'Three times takes time.' And I felt sick - I felt like Halloween, again and again, with a bellyful of junk and trash. of them,' said Harold Swallow. 'Three times takes time.' And I felt sick - I felt like Halloween, again and again, with a bellyful of junk and trash.

'And I know which which three of them, don't I?' said Junior Jones. I noticed he was getting dressed: I three of them, don't I?' said Junior Jones. I noticed he was getting dressed: I hadn't hadn't noticed he'd been naked. He pulled on a baggy grey pair of sweat pants, he pulled on his high-topped white basketball shoes over his huge bare feet. He put on a baseball cap, with the visor turned backwards; that was all he was going to wear, apparently, because he stood in the fifth-floor hall of the dorm and shouted suddenly. 'Black Arm of the Law!' he said. Doors opened. 'Lion hunt!' Jones yelled. The black athletes, quarantined on the top floor, peered out at him. 'Get your s.h.i.+t together,' said Junior Jones. noticed he'd been naked. He pulled on a baggy grey pair of sweat pants, he pulled on his high-topped white basketball shoes over his huge bare feet. He put on a baseball cap, with the visor turned backwards; that was all he was going to wear, apparently, because he stood in the fifth-floor hall of the dorm and shouted suddenly. 'Black Arm of the Law!' he said. Doors opened. 'Lion hunt!' Jones yelled. The black athletes, quarantined on the top floor, peered out at him. 'Get your s.h.i.+t together,' said Junior Jones.

'Lion hunt!' cried Harold Swallow, flying up and down the hall. 'Get your s.h.i.+t together! Black Arm of the Law!'

It was then that it occurred to me that I didn't know any black students at the Dairy School who weren't weren't athletes - of course: our s.h.i.+t-a.s.s school wouldn't take them if they couldn't be of some use. athletes - of course: our s.h.i.+t-a.s.s school wouldn't take them if they couldn't be of some use.

'What's a lion hunt?' I asked Junior Jones.

'Your sister's a good girl,' Jones said. 'I know she is. Everybody's own sister is a good girl,' he said, and I agreed with him, of course, and Harold Swallow b.u.mped my arm and said, 'You see, man? Everybody's sister is a good girl.' good girl,' he said, and I agreed with him, of course, and Harold Swallow b.u.mped my arm and said, 'You see, man? Everybody's sister is a good girl.'

And we flew down the stairwell with remarkable silence, considering how many of us there were. Harold Swallow led us, waiting impatiently on every landing. Junior Jones was surprisngly quick for his size. On the second-floor landing we encountered two white students coming home from somewhere; they saw the black athletes descending the stairs and fled down the hall on their floor. 'Lion hunt!' they cried. 'f.u.c.king Black Arm of the Law!'

Not a door opened; two lights went out. And then we were outside in the Halloween night, heading for the woods and the place just off the footpath that I would recognize and remember all my life. There's not a day when I couldn't locate those ferns, where Franny and I were first and always alone.

'Franny,' I cried out, but there was no answer. I led Jones and Harold Swallow into the woods; behind us, the black athletes fanned out along the footpath and entered the woods all up and down the path - shaking the trees, kicking the dead leaves, some of them humming a little tune, all all of them (I suddenly noticed) wearing those baseball caps turned backwards, all of them bare-chested; two of them wore catchers' masks. The sound they made coming through the woods was like the whirring of a large rotary blade cutting through a field. Flashlights blinked, and like a swarm of large fireflies we came upon the ferns where Lenny Metz, his pants still off, held my sister's head pinched between his knees. Metz was kneeling on Franny's arms, stretched over her head, while Chester Pulaski - who no doubt, had been third in line - was finis.h.i.+ng his turn. of them (I suddenly noticed) wearing those baseball caps turned backwards, all of them bare-chested; two of them wore catchers' masks. The sound they made coming through the woods was like the whirring of a large rotary blade cutting through a field. Flashlights blinked, and like a swarm of large fireflies we came upon the ferns where Lenny Metz, his pants still off, held my sister's head pinched between his knees. Metz was kneeling on Franny's arms, stretched over her head, while Chester Pulaski - who no doubt, had been third in line - was finis.h.i.+ng his turn.

Chipper Dove was gone; he had been first, of course. And like the careful quarterback he was, he hadn't held the ball too long.

'Of course I knew what he was going to do,' Franny told me, much later. 'I was prepared for him, I'd even imagined it - with him. I always knew it would be him - the first time - somehow. But I never thought he'd let the others even see see me with him. I even me with him. I even told him told him that they didn't have to force me, that I'd let that they didn't have to force me, that I'd let him him. But when he left left me with them - I wasn't prepared for that at all. I never even imagined that.' me with them - I wasn't prepared for that at all. I never even imagined that.'

It seemed to my sister that she'd been made to pay disproportionately for her mischief with the lights in in the Hotel New Hamps.h.i.+re and her inadvertent contribution to Howard Tuck's departure from our world. ' the Hotel New Hamps.h.i.+re and her inadvertent contribution to Howard Tuck's departure from our world. 'Boy, are you ever made to pay for a little fun,' Franny said.

And it seemed to me that Lenny Metz and Chester Pulaski hardly paid enough for the 'fun' they'd had. Metz released my sister's arms when he first caught sight of Junior Jones; he pulled his pants up and made a break for it - but he was a running back used to good blocking in front of him and a relatively open field. In the dark woods he could barely see the dark bodies of the humming black athletes, and although he ran with power and with some speed, he struck a tree as big around as his thigh and it broke his collarbone. He was surrounded rather quickly then, and was dragged back to the holy ground in the ferns, where Junior Jones ordered all his clothes stripped off him and had him tied to a lacrosse stick; he was then carried, naked, to the Dean of Men. I learned, later, that the lion hunters always delivered up their prey with a certain flair.