Chapter 6
The next day was Saturday. At nine that morning Arnold drove him to the club.
Faculty were not generally allowed to visit with students off campus.
Colin had learned that his first year in Sojourn House.
Though Arnold was a counselor and taught no classes, the rules of fraternization were still very strict.
Colin had been off campus a few times each semester, more often in the slower summer season.
Each month there would be a sheet listing the scheduled trips for Sojourn House residents.
A couple of days in advance, Mrs. Fitzgerald would make an announcement.
She tried to make it sound like a treat.
But the strictly regimented way she arranged things, starting with the announcement itself, made most trips feel more like a chore to Colin.
A duty. He could tell that most of the other students felt the same way.
Once they traveled by ferry to the Bald Head Island nature preserve, the southernmost bastion of the Outer Banks.
At least once a semester they attended films at the local Cineplex.
But Mrs. Fitzgerald chose the films and then deflated the enjoyment afterward with question times.
They visited museums. They always stopped somewhere for lunch, the other patrons staring at them like they were on display.
He liked it better when Celeste arranged to pick him up, though it usually meant spending time in her children’s company.
Then last year the older girl went off to college, but her son’s sullen attitude never changed.
Troublesome was the word Celeste most often used when she spoke about him.
Colin could see she was worried, but had no idea what he could do to make things better.
They remained close through all those times, and it was Celeste who had given him the idea about swimming.
The week before Colin was scheduled to meet with Arnold, he told Celeste, “I hate how I look.”
“Not liking your appearance is part of growing up. This is when you start learning to see yourself as an individual, which means examining every wart and wayward hair through a microscope.”
“This is different.”
“Oh, is that so. Tell me how I am supposed to believe that because you’re a genius and everybody is oohing and aahing over you, you’re not going to think and feel like a teenager every now and then.”
There was a phone in the little hallway off the kitchen that the students were allowed to use.
Cell phones were off limits, as were personal computers.
Mrs. Fitzgerald did not allow any device that she could not personally monitor.
The cook, Camila, was supposed to observe and report on every phone conversation.
But apparently few of the Sojourn House students had anyone they wanted to talk to.
And none of them had funds to buy their own equipment.
Colin had seen the hall phone being used only a few times.
Camila seemed to like him, which he found very strange, since the only time they spoke was when he was assigned kitchen chores.
But whenever he phoned Celeste, the cook seemed to go out of her way to be elsewhere.
“That’s not what I mean,” Colin said. “I’m fat.”
Celeste gave that a moment. “I will admit that you’re a tad overweight. It comes with finally getting fed like a growing boy should.”
“I’m fat and I hate how I look. Not just that. All the other people in the house, they’re strange looking.”
“Those day students, they’re still calling you that name? Superfreak?”
“Yes, but that’s not … I want to do something about how I look. I can’t buy clothes. I don’t have money. The stuff Mrs. Fitzgerald gives me to wear, it’s like a uniform. That’s what the others call it. The superfreaks in their Walmart super gear.”
“I could wring their necks.”
“I can’t do anything about how I dress. But maybe I can do something about being a fatty. I want to try.”
“Don’t call yourself names.” But she had taken on a thoughtful air. “I don’t recall Outer Banks Academy having a gym.”
“They have one. It’s small, but I guess it’s okay. I went there. They made fun of me.”
Celeste was silent, then suggested, “What about swimming?”
“I don’t know how.” Even so, the idea sparked something in him. Photos he had seen rose behind his eyes. “Outer Banks Academy doesn’t have a pool.”
“You’re always going on about how you want to get out of that place. Ask them if you can go to a pool. Check it out online, see what you can find. When do you next meet with Arnold?”
“He’s set up an appointment in five days.”
“Find out where there’s a pool before you see them.”
“Go in prepared,” he said. But now he was thinking about that other thing.
“There you go. Speaking of which, didn’t you tell me you’re having dinner—”
“I don’t want to go.”
“—With your father. And his new wife. Colin, wanting doesn’t matter. If your daddy were to raise a stink, there’s a chance he might be able to take you home. You want that?”
“No. Not ever again.”
“He’s remarried, he’s a state senator up in Raleigh, he’s in the process of adopting his new wife’s two kids. If he had half a mind, he could show a court just how great—”
“No.” The hand holding the phone felt so hot he thought he might melt the device. “All right. I’ll go.”
“Of course you will. Be polite to his new wife. It should go just like all the other visits.”
Thankfully Roger Eames’s wedding had taken place in Jessica’s hometown of Asheville, a nine-hour drive from Wilmington.
Colin’s father had only given him seventy-two hours’ notice of the event.
So Celeste had guided him through a nice, polite, meaningless letter apologizing for how the academy wouldn’t let him travel up on his own and wishing them every happiness.
The newlyweds had stopped by for a visit three weeks later, when his father was down on some business.
The new wife had shown Colin the sort of empty cheeriness that probably made her a great politician’s wife.
Nothing could possibly touch this woman. She was Teflon through and through.
Colin was tempted to tell Celeste what he knew was coming.
Not suspected. The fact that his father had remarried made the next moves a near certainty.
Only the timing was not yet set. But Colin couldn’t risk it.
Celeste was an adult. She saw things from an adult’s perspective.
She would wait until it happened before bringing her strength to bear.
And by then it would be too late. They weren’t dealing with a simple cop and union chief any longer.
The danger was real, and it was happening. Soon.
Celeste said, “You be sure and let me know how things go.”