Free Do Not Pass Go by Kirkpatrick Hill Page A

passing from class to class in the halls at school. It was hard to believe the lack of dramain jail. Two prisoners went past the windows dressed in orange suits.
    Deet turned to Andy. “Why do some of them have orange suits?”
    â€œThat’s what you got to wear when you’re in seg. Segregation. Means you’re being punished for something, like if you got a write-up for something. If you’re really, really dangerous you have to wear red.”
    The guard let in another prisoner, a pretty girl with long orange hair. Her prison uniform was bright yellow. Deet felt a moment of shock and hoped his face hadn’t shown it. Somehow he hadn’t thought about women going to jail.
    She picked up the phone and leaned her face close to the glass to talk to Andy. She was chattering fast, and Andy was just nodding and saying “uh-huh” once in a while. Andy called her Della.
    The door clanged open again and a young guy bounced up to the stool opposite the fat girl and the baby, full of good humor.
    â€œSay hi to Daddy,” she said, holding the baby up close to the glass. She waved the baby’s hand for him.
    There was lots of chatter in the room now, so Deet didn’t feel like an eavesdropper anymore. The guard popped his head in again and saw Deet sitting without anyone opposite him. He picked up the phone and gestured to Deet to do the same. The phone was so black and greasy-looking, Deet was almost reluctant to pick it up.
    The guard’s name was on the identification badge clipped to his pocket. TOBOLOWSKY . Mr. Tobolowsky. You probably had to call a guard “mister.” He was a thin, slope-shouldered little man with a mild face, so small the big bundle of keys at his hip looked as if it might unbalance him. His name was too big for him as well.
    â€œWho are you visiting?” the guard asked.
    â€œCharley Aafedt,” said Deet. Deet felt like Mom had. He’d hated to say Dad’s name out loud.
    â€œI’ll go get him. Maybe he didn’t hear his visitor page,” the guard said. He smiled at Deet in a friendly way and left the visiting room. Deet scowled at the metal counter. He thought he would rather have one of those mean-looking guards he had seen when he camein than this guard. It confused him to find a guard so likable.
    In a few minutes the door opened and Dad came in. Behind him Mr. Tobolowsky threw Deet a stiff-handed, cheery salute and slammed the door shut again.

ELEVEN

    Dad stood by the door for a moment, as if he wasn’t sure whether he should come into the room or not. He looked shocked to see Deet. Mom must not have told him Deet was coming.
    Dad looked very different. Bad. Something about the color of his skin, and the dark places under his eyes. Deet had forgotten how Dad walked, a sort of tipping-forward walk, toed in a little. He had forgotten the way he shook his head back to get his hair out of his eyes.
    He sat on the stool opposite Deet and picked up the phone. Dad didn’t say anything for a minute. He looked down at his hands spread limply on the counter, and Deet could see he was trying to get himself under control.
    â€œYou don’t look like you got much sleep,” said Deet.
    Dad shook his head. “Hard to sleep in here.” Dad rubbed his free hand over his hair and stared at the grimy steel counter on his side of the glass.
    â€œI can’t believe I let you in for this. I can’t believe my kid has to visit me in jail.”
    Deet was quiet for a minute, listening to the fat girl and the baby, the murmur of the old couple asking what sounded like polite questions, and Andy talking to his girlfriend, telling her the troubles he was having with his car. Ordinary conversations. Nobody was having a hard time like he and Dad were.
    Dad still didn’t look up. “She said she wasn’t going to let you come.”
    â€œShe doesn’t think it’s so bad here now. Not as bad as she thought at