Song of the Pack: Mystery & Gift of the Wild

By Kitty Haspel

Book 1 of this two-part series focuses on Dan and Mystery. Alienated from the community and his single mother, seventeen-year-old Dan Langton hopes and expects to be released from prison soon. At his Parole Board Hearing, prison officials tell the young man to complete a community service program. After intense resistance, Dan agrees to work with the newly instituted prison dog program, which trains and rehabilitates rescue dogs. Dan is assigned to Mystery, wolf-German Shepherd hybrid who shies away from human contact and repeatedly tries to run away. As he wins her affection, her love of freedom begins to infect and heal him. When corrupt officials try to pressure Dan into selling drugs by threatening Mystery, their bond is put to the test.
Book 2 follows Dan and Mystery as they try to negotiate life "on the outside." Their problems don't disappear after they leave prison behind, and there are now new dangers and obstacles to overcome. Dan must deal with financial and emotional issues as his criminal past drifts back into his life, both threatening all he has worked for and enticing him with a seemingly easy path to success. Mystery dislikes the confinement of home life but remains loyal and constant to do all she can to save Dan from harm. How much will they have to sacrifice to find peace and safety on the other side of prison?
"Song of the Pack" will appeal to young adult readers, animal lovers, and those interested in the challenges faced by marginalized youth. All proceeds go to the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (ASPCA).

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Oct 23, 2023
• ISBN: 9798350916331

Book preview

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Copyright 2023

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

ISBN: 979-8-35091-632-4 (print)

ISBN: 979-8-35091-633-1 (eBook)

Contents

Mystery

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 32

CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 34

CHAPTER 35

CHAPTER 36

CHAPTER 37

CHAPTER 38

CHAPTER 39

CHAPTER 40

CHAPTER 41

CHAPTER 42

CHAPTER 43

CHAPTER 44

CHAPTER 45

CHAPTER 46

CHAPTER 47

CHAPTER 48

CHAPTER 49

CHAPTER 50

CHAPTER 51

CHAPTER 52

CHAPTER 53

CHAPTER 54

CHAPTER 55

CHAPTER 56

CHAPTER 57

Gift of the Wild

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 32

CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 34

CHAPTER 35

CHAPTER 36

CHAPTER 37

CHAPTER 38

CHAPTER 39

CHAPTER 40

CHAPTER 41

CHAPTER 42

Mystery

Book 1

CHAPTER 1

Dan squirmed in his chair. This was it. The meeting which would determine if he would go free. His grey eyes stared straight ahead. He tried to keep his shoulders straight, but his stomach churned. A chill went through his tall, slim frame, and his arms and hands trembled. He combed his straight brown hair with his hand, and felt his brow wet with perspiration. Looking at the seated Juvenile Justice Parole Board Members, he swallowed and took a deep breath.

Mr. Langton, we are meeting today to discuss your progress and the possibility of your parole, said Mr. Washington, a tall, imposing African American man with short hair and long expressive hands. Wearing a white starched shirt and dark tie, Mr. Washington spoke into one of three microphones perched on thin tubular stems on top of a large rectangular table. His loud, sonorous voice filled the room. He sat between two other Board Members, a middle-aged Caucasian woman with short brown hair and glasses, and a grey-haired Hispanic male.

Clearing his throat, the distinguished African American man leaned towards a microphone. Today is May 25, 2021. I am Commissioner Washington. He turned to the woman seated next to him And to my left is . . .

Ms. Carlotta, Education.

And to my right . . . .

Dr. Ramirez, Psychologist.

Commissioner Washington faced Dan. For the purposes of this Board, please state your name, your Youth Authority number, and your age, young man.

Daniel Langton, YA #63040, seventeen years, sir.

Mr. Langton, is there any reason why you cannot understand and participate fully in these proceedings today? Please speak up for the recording.

No, sir.

Have you had a chance to read your Progress Report?

Yes.

Then let’s begin. Son, how long have you been at Pinnacle Youth Correctional Facility? continued Mr. Washington.

Two years, sir.

And before that?

Juvenile hall. Dan said as sweat poured down his back.

You have quite a file here. Give us a few minutes to let us review it. The Commissioner passed some papers to the other Board members.

Sitting in silence, Dan looked at their bent heads. After a few moments, the waiting began to seem unbearable. He glanced at his portly Case Manager, Olsen, whose pursed lips and sharp nod of the head gave him a silent reprimand.

Olsen better not screw him over, was the thought that came to him. He had promised to support his release. But Dan knew better that to trust him or anyone around Pinnacle.

Dan looked at the Case Manager’s gold Rolodex watch and a gold ring on his little finger. He very quickly took out his cell phone and looked at it, then put it back in his coat. Olsen wasn’t always a good dresser, but today he was wearing a brown suit coat, a freshly starched white shirt and a yellow stripped tie, every orange hair in place, and carefully groomed.

To pass the time, Dan looked out the window at the Pinnacle Youth Correctional Facility’s landmark building, a tall red brick tower with a pointed slate roof. It was old, he thought, maybe a hundred years old, and currently in a pitiful state of disrepair. No one even went inside it but bats and rodents.

He’d seen that tower every day for the last two years. Even when he didn’t want to see it, there it was, the tallest building in the 90-acre male correctional facility, and the tallest building in the county. Standing next to it was a building made of the same brick with long windows, numerous archways, and a wide entrance. The Pinnacle Castle, in all its glory.

Dan shifted his position in his seat, and looked out the opposite window at the dozen or so lodges where the wards stayed. Ah, they were another matter! No fancy architecture for them. Most were box-like, and plain.

His eyes rested on an outdoor basketball court with uneven surfaces and a torn hoop net. Dan saw a deflated basketball on the ground. A small portion of the court had a roofed section, designed to give respite from the sun. Next to it was the lodge where Dan resided with thirty other youth.

Hell, how long was this going to take? He sat up straight and looked at the Board Members. The woman with brown hair and glasses held a pen and tapped it against some papers. She looked at him with sympathy, and then returned to reading Dan’s file. The Hispanic male ran his fingers through his grey hair and jotted something down in the small notebook he kept on the table.

Ahem, Mr. Washington cleared his throat. Tell the Board why we should release you to the community.

He knew everything hinged on his answer. The next fifteen or twenty minutes would decide his fate. Dan gulped.

I’m doing well on my lodge, sir. No discipline for three months. He paused for a moment. I thought you might want to look at this. Dan put a manila folder on the table. Commissioner Washington picked it up and looked through it.

I see that you’ve completed your required groups – social skills training, criminal thinking, anger management. And, what’s this? A Food Handler Certificate?

Yes, I’m working at the Pinnacle Café with cook Alma.

And what is your position there?

Veggie Prep Cook.

How long have you been working?

About two months.

I see. Not long. What Phase are you on?

A Phase.

He had done everything he could to make the all-important A Phase. The times he had held himself back from punching a ward who certainly deserved it, and the almost constant criticisms from staff he had not responded to . . . But he had been told by other wards and staff, by everybody really, how important earning this proof of best behavior was.

For a moment he thought of Wawona. She would end things for sure if he didn’t get out. She had been his girl for the past two and a half years, but she was tired of waiting. Dan pictured her as he had seen her the last time she visited, straight black hair, large, dark eyes circled with eyeliner and gold hoop earrings. She had just written him a letter giving him an ultimatum.

If he got out now, he knew he could make the last two years up to her, and it would be ok. It was true her mother hated him and had forbidden Wawona from having anything to do with him. But he would deal with that later.

You have quite a history here, said Commissioner Washington. This is a long list of discipline – fights, disruptive behavior, disrespectful comments made to staff, refusals to go to groups, school disturbances. If not for these incidents, which added to your time here, you could have left Pinnacle a long while ago.

Dan didn’t know what to say. He knew that the Commissioner was right.

At this time, you have years of unacceptable behavior, and less than six months of anything else. He handed copies of the lists to Ms. Carlotta and to Dr. Ramirez.

Mr. Langton, describe for the Board your committing offense.

I robbed a neighborhood store. I –I tried to steal a bottle of Jack Daniels.

Was anyone hurt?

I – didn’t mean to . . .

Just answer the question.

The owner of the store came after me, and I shoved him. He fell and broke his arm.

Were any weapons involved?

No.

Dan began to sweat again. His hands felt clammy, and his foot began to twitch.

I wrote a letter to my victim, apologizing.

You would have had to do that to make A Phase, Commissioner Washington said, a bit of disdain in his voice.

I have a question for you, young man. The Commissioner paused and looked at Dan. Do you think you just hurt the store owner? Every crime is also a crime against the community. Did you even consider that? Crimes can ruin a neighborhood.

I didn’t . . . at the time I didn’t fully understand. The effects it had. . .

Your behavior has improved, especially over the last few months, I’ll give you that, but I still sense something missing. During your time here have you done any community service?

Dan’s mind became blank. I don’t know what you mean.

Have you volunteered at Christmas, to help seniors, or children with special needs? Have you helped clean or remodel community buildings? Worked with the Youth Advisory Council or with the Victims’ Program, or with a community agency on any project?

No, sir, Dan said. He gulped, and looked down. I haven’t.

Desperate now, he knew he had to say more, had to steer the conversation in another direction—show them he had improved, fix things somehow.

But Dan could not find the words he wanted to say, the words which would give him his freedom. Sweat dripped from his forehead and he felt dizzy. He knew the people in the room were looking at him, and talking, but he had lost the ability to understand them. His chest felt heavy and his breathing became labored.

What good would it do to release you, young man, if you have no compassion, no connection or sense of responsibility to society, to others? Mr. Washington asked. Growing pensive, he looked at Dan.

Dan felt his heart pound.

Son, you know that California Youth Authority is different from adult prison. There, it’s just a question of doing time. Here, with juveniles and young men, we expect more. Mr. Washington involuntarily sighed. The state wants real change. And we got to see it to know that it’s occurred. You’ve done some positive work. But I need to see more good time to be sure.

I’m sorry, but in my opinion, you are not ready to be released. Mr. Washington turned to the other Board members. Ms. Carlotta, Dr. Ramirez?

Ms. Carlotta looked at Mr. Washington, and nodded in agreement.

Mr. Ramirez wrote something in Dan’s file and put his pen in his shirt pocket.

I concur, he stated.

Mr. Olsen, what about you? Mr. Washington continued. What are your thoughts about Mr. Langton?

Olsen glanced at Dan, then turned to the Commissioner and smiled. I considered release, Commissioner, but your point is well taken. Mr. Langton is, well, I don’t want to say under-socialized exactly, but there’s no doubt that a community program would do him good.

Their words flew by too fast and Dan could not catch them. He fought back an urge to cry.

Mr. Olsen, schedule another Board hearing after Mr. Langton has made progress in this area. Mr. Washington glanced at Dan. Son, this Board has a responsibility. The community counts on us. We have to be sure you are ready to leave. The Commissioner turned to the other Board members. There are times when this job is a hard one.

One more thing, Mr. Langton, Mr. Washington said. It states in the record that you do not wish to be released to anyone in your family. Is that correct?

Mr. Washington looked at Dan for a response, but there was only silence.

Dan, the Commissioner is asking you if you wish to be released to anyone in your family, said Olsen.

He knew everyone was staring at him.

No, I do not want to be released to anyone in my family.

You were living with your mother previous to coming here? Mr. Washington asked.

Yes.

Are you in contact with her?

No.

Your father?

Not in the picture.

You that alone, young man? Do you know how hard life can be when you’re by yourself? asked Mr. Washington.

Dan said nothing.

Well, just think about it, for your own sake. In the meantime, it seems like some community service would be helpful, Mr. Washington said.

Olsen grabbed Dan’s forearm and got up from his chair. For a moment Dan did not think he would be able to move.

You alright? asked Mr. Washington.

Dan pushed his chair back from the table and willed himself to stand up. I’m okay.

As he walked out of the meeting, he turned to Olsen. His lips felt cold and numb, and he could hardly mouth the words. What happened? How come you didn’t present my case, tell them how good I was doing?

What could I say? The Board had already made up its mind.

Maybe you could have said something to change it. You didn’t have to just fold.

They’re right, Olsen said matter-of-factly. The Commissioners need to see that you’re trying. They want you to understand there is something else in the world besides yourself, and they want you to contribute something meaningful to the community you hurt by your crimes, Olsen looked at his watch.

Why didn’t you tell me this before? I coulda been in one of those programs. Dan felt his body tense and he became aware his hands were balled up in fists.

I can’t read the Board Members’ minds. Find something - ask the Social Worker if she knows any programs, ask the Outreach Coordinator in Administration. They must have a lot of programs you can join. They’re not going to let you out until you do, Olsen said in an exasperated tone of voice. He turned away from Dan and began walking towards his office. Get Security to give you a slip to get back to your lodge.

Dan nodded, but inside, he dreaded the prospect of returning and having to tell everyone he was not being released. Some wards would commiserate. Others would just laugh.

He got a permission slip from the Security Control Office, and began walking to his lodge. Stopping when he got to the basketball court, Dan surveyed the torn basket, and the dirty deflated basketball on the floor. He was past shock and sadness and fear, but he found he was not past one emotion. As he felt anger surge within him, he let out a defiant cry and reached for the supporting pillar of the basketball roof. It was crazy, but he didn’t care.

Dan knew Security would be watching him from the cameras installed throughout the facility. When they saw what he was up to, they would come after him. But he knew they wouldn’t touch him, not if he could fall. He grabbed the structure’s supporting pole and forced himself to scale it.

He heard a security staff speak into his facility radio. Ward climbing the roof!

There was no time to waste. Dan’s feet slipped and he dangled from the pole. He felt with his hand for the top of the flat roof and shoved his torso onto it. The gravel on the roof cut his hands and wrists. Pushing himself up to a stand, he turned his face to the sun. He threw his hands and arms up to welcome the sun’s rays, and as he did so he felt a wild sense of exhilaration. A mild fresh wind rustled through his hair.

Ha! Dan laughed, his arms still up, as he slowly turned around in a circle. He was aware of three guards who had gathered below, but he ignored them. School was letting out, and when some wards saw Dan, they cheered.

From the roof of the basketball court, he climbed onto the higher roof of the lodge. He looked up at the tower. How he hated it and all it stood for!

With a triumphant grin, and in front of all those looking at him from the ground, and all those watching the cameras, Dan did a jig, shuffling his feet. Then he put one hand on his hip and held the other one straight up, and, with his fingers, flipped the tower the bird. Motherfucker! Dan yelled at the top of his lungs. He turned to face the guards who had gathered below. Hell with this place, and hell with you all!

CHAPTER 2

She was waiting, but she did not know for what. It was getting light as she lay on the cold concrete floor of her cage. That meant the men with heavy boots and uniforms would soon come in and give her bowls of food and water, and open the metal wall that led to the part of her kennel that faced the outside.

Then she would feel fresh air and the heat of the sun, see trees and maybe the men who fed her. She always barked to get their attention, but they never let her out of her pen.

Instead, throughout the day, she played with a brown-haired, medium-sized dog with yellow eyes inhabiting the cage next to her. Rolling on the ground, she tried to touch and grab the other dog’s paws through the fencing separating them. The brown-haired dog did the same, and after a burst of activity, they chewed and licked each other’s feet.

Kennels with all types of dogs lined the large room. Whenever people entered the room, the dogs let out loud barks and whines. Her sensitive ears could hardly stand the roar, which seemed like it would never cease. But even that was better than the smells that periodically assaulted her. All of the dogs were unsettled by it - the stench of death.

Still hungry and waiting for her food, she saw men in a nearby room with the door open and cocked her ears to listen to the tones of their voices.

So how many you going to need, Rick? asked a uniformed man with a deep voice.

Fifteen total, replied a large man with dark hair and a short beard, neatly dressed in jeans and a faded, short-sleeved, checkered shirt.

Fifteen dogs! When you need them by?

It’s already the end of May. I’d say by the first week of August.

Ain’t this year just whizzin’ by – 2021 half gone. Well, come take a look! Dogs are somethin’ we got plenty of!

The two men came into the large main room and the dogs began their terrible din. Some of them jumped up in their cages to see the men, but she remained seated and quiet.

With round eyes and a serious expression, she watched the two men stop at each pen. Sometimes they took a dog out, and sometimes they just looked in and walked away.

She saw that the second man was not like the other men who fed her. He did not wear their caps or heavy boots. When he spoke, his voice was calm and steady, and his manner showed a strength that was new to her and strange.

What about the little dachshund in cage 6?

Lemme open it for you Rick. She came in just the other day. The man with the uniform grabbed a set of keys and opened the pen door. You can take her out, he said as he slipped on a collar with an attached leash.

The other man tried to lead the dog out, but the dachshund remained lying down. With an upturned muzzle, she met his gaze, her glassy wide eyes shooting him a pained look. He came into her kennel and squatted down beside her.

What’s wrong? he asked as he stroked her.

She closed her eyes, and breathed deeply. When she opened them, she whined softly, and rolled forward on her forepaws trying to shove herself up. Her back legs shook and sent her down again. The man felt around her stomach and hips. He removed her collar.

He got up and dusted his pants. The man in the uniform locked the door.

The two men looked in another kennel. A healthy young boxer jumped up to see the stranger.

Nice-lookin’ dog, ain’t he? But I can’t let you have this one.

Why not? The other man asked with a trace of irritation.

He came in with a bite on him.

The man knitted his brows and continued on.

She watched as the men made another slow circle around the pens. She had seen dogs leave with people. She did not know where they were taken or what happened to them. But the dogs that stayed also disappeared. Now she felt a strong urge to be any place but here.

The man passed her cage again without stopping, and the thought that he might not notice her filled her with a desperate urgency. Without warning she let out a sharp high-pitched bark.

He stopped. Who is this?

This one? Her name is Mystery.

Mystery?

Yeah. She was brought to the animal drop box. Don’t know who brought her. Don’t know anything about her, so’s we called her Mystery.

He stood in front of her cage. Now that she had his attention, she did not know what to do with it. When her door opened, and he stretched out his hand to pet her, Mystery backed away. Seeing a wedge of open space, she moved quickly to the side of the man, trying to escape.

He caught her and deftly slipped a collar on her.

Where you think you’re going? he said as he faced her and blocked her exit.

Uncomfortable with the collar and leash, Mystery turned her head to see if she could bite them off.

Nobody put a collar on you before?

Come on, atta girl, atta girl, he said as he led Mystery around the room, expertly turning and making her follow his lead.

Unusual dog, the uniformed man stated. Look at those long legs and thick furry ears – could have a little wolf in her. With her bushy tail and her black hair and heavy tan undercoat, some German shepherd too.

How old is she, do you think?

She’s got really white teeth. I’d say about a year.

When’s her date?

Tomorrow.

The other man turned Mystery around and looked directly into her eyes.

Her heart beat fast as she met his gaze.

I’ll take her.

Well, at least you got one for your trouble.

Come on, Mystery, he said as he pulled on her leash. Let’s get you out of here.

She followed him without hesitation as he led her out of the kennel. She heard the barking and the whining of the other dogs, but she did not look back. She knew she did not ever want to be closed in by a metal cage again.

CHAPTER 3

Dan wished he had a pillow. Lying on his back on a flat part of the basketball court roof he could feel bits of gravel bite into his flesh. He shifted his position and folded his arms behind his head. The sun was not as bright as it had been a few hours ago, but the roof was still warm and the soft wind fresh upon his sunburned face. When he shut out the voices vying for his attention, it was peaceful, almost pleasant.

Come on, Langton, you know you gotta come down sooner or later, said a tall, fit Security Officer dressed in a crisp dark green uniform and heavy boots.

If those were the choices, it was definitely later, Dan thought as he closed his eyes.

You’ll get hungry, another officer warned.

Yeah, so send me up a hamburger, Dan yelled, just as his stomach was beginning to growl.

You wish! No one’s gonna reward you for bein’ up there.

Well, that was probably true, Dan thought to himself. The no bargaining with wards policy most likely included transactions involving food.

Still, he thought it was bad form for custody staff to withhold his meals. Surely, they knew he could get weak from hunger and possibly fall. Pretty irresponsible, on their part.

All in all, there was getting to be quite a group down there. In addition to the three Security Officers and the psychologist, Dan saw the male nurse and several Youth Correctional Counselors. Some, he could tell, were jaded. Dan knew he was not the first youth to go out of bounds and climb something – a bookcase, a tree, a fence – whatever looked good, whatever was available and whatever might make a statement. He admitted it – part of the rush was having a captive audience – that is, someone else being captive for a change.

As Dan continued to look down, an African American youth was ushered into the waiting group by yet another Security Officer. The youth, dressed like every other ward, in navy blue pants and white t-shirt, conversed with the officers in a friendly and familiar way.

An officer stepped forward and spoke. Here’s a ward who wants to talk to you.

I got nothin’ to say to him.

The youth stepped forward heedless of Dan’s statement.

Bro, it’s not gonna get any better for you up there. The longer you stay, the more time you’ll probably get, he said, as he turned first to Dan and then to the Security Officers.

And who the hell are you to advise me about my program?

He’s just trying to help, said an officer.

I can do without that kind of help.

Dan knew what was going on, could see it a mile off. When Administration didn’t know what to do, or how to get a youth to calm down and cooperate, they always got another ward to help. So damn predictable. But Dan had to admit he enjoyed baiting the youth from this height. He might not get another opportunity like this again.

The youth stepped forward. Hey, come on, get down. Look at all these staff out here. You interfering with the whole place.

Then I did something right. By the way, fuck off, and leave me alone.

You sure that’s what you want?

Shut up man, you’re beginning to bother me. With that Dan got up and walked to the other side of the roof.

He wanted to get away from all the voices. He didn’t want to think about anything, because just outside the exultation of the moment, lurking in the edges of his mind, were the unsettling thoughts, the thoughts that could send him into a tailspin. How much time would he get for this? How many days would he have to stay in his cell, with just an hour or so out for recreation? It was hard enough to think about what had happened at Board, much less what they would do to him now.

The dimmer the sunlight, the more Dan thought. When he looked down, he saw that the nurse and the psychologist had gone. There were only two Security Officers. He saw an officer pull out his radio and speak into it.

What will they do now? More importantly what would he do? As he knew, his options were limited. He could stay on the roof, or he could come down. It was so simple, but on the other hand it wasn’t. He couldn’t bear to do it all again – go back to his cell, smell the close, stale air, be always observed, always ordered about. There was a part of him that cried out for some alternative, some other reality. And the part that refused to go back to the prison life, the part that wanted more – was the only part of him that was, in his estimation, worth anything. It was the only part of him that was still alive, and he couldn’t bring himself to kill it.

Dan. He heard a familiar voice. He looked down and saw Lyon, the only Youth Correctional Counselor he really liked or respected. The tall middle-aged black YCC looked up. Dan, he said insistently. Look I don’t know what happened, but I can’t talk to you like this. Lyon paused. I’m comin’ up.

Dressed casually in a white shirt and dark, close-fitting pants, his sunglasses resting on the top of his short-cropped hair, Lyon sat on the roof cross-legged, and looked gravely at Dan. What happened?

Dan didn’t want it to be like this. He wanted to crack jokes, and be brave and funny. He tried to stop them, but once they started, his tears ran down his face with a life and a spirit of their own. He could not speak. He used his t shirt to wipe his eyes. After a minute or two he found the words.

They refused me at Board.

Lyon closed his eyes. I’m sorry.

It didn’t matter, that I was A Phase, and had a job . . . Dan’s voice broke and he hid his face.

Whoa. Wait a minute. I doubt that. Maybe they wanted more, but what you did counted. They took it in, I’m sure they did.

What does it matter? They didn’t let me out, Dan snorted.

What are you doin’ up here? Lyon changed the subject.

I dunno. Just did it.

Lyon looked down for a moment. When he raised his head, his eyes found Dan’s. You not thinkin’ about jumpin’ off?

You mean kill myself? Dan was taken aback by the question. He was more surprised when he realized he wasn’t absolutely sure of his answer. Suicide hadn’t occurred to him. But he had felt his life had reached a dead end, and that he would have to do something about it – something different.

No, he said finally. I just couldn’t go back, that’s all. Dan gulped. Couldn’t go back to my cell, do it all again.

Lyon looked at Dan and spoke softly, but with conviction. There’s only one way out of this place. Only one. I know it’s hard, but you gotta do it. Follow the rules. Do whatever the Board told you to do. They call the shots – you don’t. You can’t go out against them. If you do, you won’t win, no matter how you try. Lyon searched Dan’s face to see his reaction. Listen up. The Board will ask you how you took their refusal. They’ll want to see how you handled it.

Yeah, great, I handled it by going on the roof.

The Board will understand you were upset. It’s what you do now that is important. Tell ‘em - at first you were upset, even climbed on the roof, but after a while you realized you still had some work to do.

I’d have to start over – I’ve lost my A Phase.

You got it once, you can get it again. I’ll work with you. But you’ll have to work too.

Dan sighed. I’ll never get out.

Nah, don’t talk like that. Look, you young, you have your whole life before you. You only have a juvenile commitment. They can’t hold you forever.

How much time you think they’ll give me for this?

Can’t say. Won’t be my decision.

Dan looked at Lyon. Whole place knows I’m up here?

Yep.

The Superintendent pissed off?

I can’t imagine he’s happy.

A faint smile flickered on Dan’s face.

Look, I’m goin’ to go down now. I’m not goin’ to tell you to come with me. I’m gonna give you the space to make your own decision. Lyon stood up and walked towards the ladder he had used to access the roof.

It was lonely after Lyon left. On the roof, it had been just the two of them, and they had thought and talked about things in a new way. If only for a moment, Dan had glimpsed another path.

The sun was setting, and he realized that it had been years since he had watched it travel down. The big round orb was orange and the sky was painted blue with various shades of peach. Without knowing how it happened, Dan became absorbed in observing something so different, and so big, that he forgot about his present predicament. He watched transfixed as the sun descended behind the tower, casting the Pinnacle fortress in a reddish glow. As the sphere inched its way below the horizon, and Dan saw it disappear, he missed it.

He thought about what the Commissioner had said to him at Board: You that alone, young man?

Sitting on the roof watching the sun disappear and darkness take its place, he felt his isolation. He was alone, not only at Pinnacle Correctional Facility, but alone in the universe. As the sun slipped beneath the horizon, Dan felt a vast emptiness that left an ache in his heart.

After a while, the night lights at Pinnacle came on. They were only concentrated in certain places, and they were not so bright that they obscured the sky. He saw the stars come out and spied a half moon. A shout from a security guard startled him.

Langton, don’t tell me you gonna stay up there all night?

Why not? Used to going to bed with a light he could not turn off, he found the idea of night inviting.

You know why not – one of us will have to stay out here and observe you.

Go home, I’ll be ok.

You know we can’t. Come on, I have a family that’s expectin’ me.

Another male voice said angrily, Langton, you’re wasting state money. Enough of your shenanigans. Come on down, like you know you have to.

I’ll have to sleep on that one, Dan said as he lay down and settled himself on the roof. By the way, keep your voices down and don’t disturb me while I rest. Wouldn’t want to get all confused and fall.

Damn you, Langton!

Dan was glad it was a spring night and not cold. He turned on his side and rested his head on his hands, then decided to lie flat on his back. The night surrounded him. He felt relief, as if the world had momentarily freed itself from all those who capture and control it in the daylight. Dan looked at the tops of the large palm trees and saw creatures