The Boy in the Gray Hoodie

3...

3…

I don’t know how many times I flipped through the pages of that book. All I know is that by the time someone came for me, all the pages felt softer. I was as careful with it as I could be, but some of the corners got wrinkled, and the binding was stressed.

Corduroy was my first and only possession, aside from the leaves and rocks that James used to bring me. But those things were different. Those things were strange and different, but this was something familiar and…and…it meant something. That’s why I tried to hide it from the orderlies. But when they made me strip down, I couldn’t keep the book under my shirt. It fell out onto the floor, the red cover flashing brightly up at them. They saw it through their thick white suits and even though I couldn’t see their faces, I knew what they were thinking.

What the hell?

Where did this come from?

This isn’t protocol. This isn’t allowed.

I know. I wasn’t supposed to have anything. No possessions—nothing that might cause unauthorized stimulation. I wasn’t supposed to see the pictures in the book, just as I wasn’t supposed to see the orderlies’ faces. They wore masks, and I never left my room.

“Where did you get this?” one of the orderlies demanded.

I didn’t recognize his voice. I guessed he was new. Or maybe he just didn’t speak very often. Either way, I had to answer him.

But I couldn’t. Marley had given it to me. I couldn’t tell them that. She might get in trouble. I wouldn’t get Marley in trouble. I would rather face the consequences myself—whatever they would be. I didn’t know. I had never broken the rules before.

            “Tell me where you got this.” The orderly commanded. He was gripping the book in his hand, twisting it, wrinkling the cover.

            “Don’t hurt it,” I whispered, looking at him through the hair that had fallen into my face. My hands twitched at my sides. I wanted to take it back.

            “Just put it in your bag. We’ll report it tonight.” Someone else said. His voice was one I recognized. Pete was his name. He was always calm and got the water temperature just right for the disinfection. “He probably doesn’t even know who gave it to him.”

            My eyes were glued to the book. I could feel my heart beating wildly in my chest. I wanted it back. They were going to take it away from me. I was going to lose it—the gift from Marley—the only thing I had ever possessed.

            “Please don’t take it away,” I said. My voice was quiet, and I expected it to shake, but it didn’t. It was steady and just loud enough for the orderlies to hear through their suits.

            “No buts, kid. You aren’t supposed to have stuff like this.” Pete said, taking the book from the other orderly.

            I was standing in the middle of my room wearing nothing but my pants, my shirt crumpled on the floor at my feet. My entire chest was exposed and they all saw how it moved forcefully up and down. Something was happening. I wasn’t calm anymore—I didn’t feel calm. I felt something else, something different.

            “Give it back to me,” I said. This time my voice was louder. “It’s mine.”

            “This is government property now, kid.” Pete shook his head beneath his suit. “And so are you. Nothing is yours.”