first.â
Dad looked up at that, startled, and gave a little snort.
Deet thought it might be better to change the subject.
âThe girls are fine,â he said, though Dad hadnât asked how they were. âItâs a pain in the butt to get them ready for school. Iâm glad I donât have to do itanymore.â He mimicked their voices and waggled his head. âThis shirt is the wrong color. I donât like this peanut butter. I need money for the book fair.â Stupid. He shouldnât have mentioned money.
Dad smiled sadly.
âAnd Iâm learning to cook,â said Deet.
He was having trouble finding things to talk about. Dad didnât want to hear him rattling on about stuff like this.
Dad had on the blue prison uniform, a short-sleeved cotton top with a V-neck and baggy blue cotton pants. The uniform looked more like pajamas than regular clothes. The T-shirt underneath was supposed to be white but it was bluish, like it had been dyed in the wash. And dumb-looking canvas slip-ons, the kind tourists wore in the summer.
Those shoes really bothered Deet, they were so lame. It was like Dad wasnât a man anymore with those shoes on. Dad had worn just boots all his life, leather work boots.
There was something about the whole uniform that was humiliating. Powerless. Deet had never thoughtabout clothes before, but he could see now that they made a difference.
âIâll bet you hate those shoes,â said Deet.
Dad threw him a grateful look. âYou got that right.â He looked with disgust at his feet. âThese are prison shoes. You can wear your own shoes if you order them through the commissary. You canât bring any in because they think youâll smuggle drugs in in the heels or something, so you have to order them. Smuggling is the big threat in here.â
âYou going to order some?â
âNo,â Dad said curtly. âIâm not spending any money while Iâm in here. I guess I wouldnât be here if Iâd learned not to buy things I didnât need.â
The fat girlâs baby was screaming with delight, smacking his little palms against the glass, while his dad on the other side of the glass smacked back. He looked as delighted as the baby did. The girl was having a hard time holding the phone as the baby lurched forward more and more recklessly to pound the glass.
It was getting a lot louder in there, and hotter,almost steamy. The old couple were still talking quietly and courteously to their prisoner, but Andy was talking louder and louder to be heard above the noise of the baby. His girlfriend, or whatever she was, Della, was standing up while she was talking, restless, twirling the phone cord and looking over her shoulder at the prisoners passing by in the hall outside the visiting room.
Suddenly she dropped the phone and darted to the window to pound on it as a group of women prisoners passed by. She shouted something at them. Deet could almost hear her through the glass, she was so loud. Then the girl gestured urgently to the guard watching the women pass, and he came to the door and opened it. The guard waited for her impatiently while she ran to the phone again and explained something to Andy. Then she bounded out to join the other girls, and the door shut behind her.
Deet looked at Andy with surprise. Andy shook his head.
âI took my lunch hour two hours late so I could come see her, and she wants to go play volleyball with the girls.â He said the last few words in a little high,mincy voice. He twirled the stool around and stood up. âSee ya,â he said to Deet cheerfully, and nodded to Deetâs father. He went to the door and pushed the signal button. He waited a minute until the locks clunked, then he opened the door and left the room.
Deet turned back to his father. The baby was still making a lot of noise, so he didnât feel too uncomfortable asking the question he couldnât hold