s e v e n t e e n

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Theodore

Ain’t nothing greater than feeling the feel of freedom, breathing the air of freedom. And ain’t nothing greater than feeling that you deserve it for all the sufferin’ you done gone and been through. Ain’t nothing greater.

Sat next to Sarai on the train. She put her head with them curly curls on my shoulder and began to sleep.

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About 4 years ago

“Get into them showers, you lil runt!” A sweaty 11-year old Theodore Joseph-Bates turned around to the sound of the director of the Sheathing Orphanage. “What you say to me, sir?” he asked, wiping his hand across his eyes. “I sed git your lil dirty self in them showers!” Mr. Johansson glared fiercely in Theo’s direction.

Theo smirked. “Ain’t nobody gon tell me what to do,” he countered.

Mr. Johansson put his hands on his hips. “Unless you dig sleepin’ on park benches and roamin’ the streets like ya used to, you better do as I say,”

Theo sneered. “I wash up when I wanna, and you can just kiss my—’’

Slam. Down to the ground he went, his right cheek smarting from Mr. Johansson’s backhand. “Git up,” Mr. Johansson screeched. Theo lay unmoving on the ground, his eyes half closed. Mr. Johansson reached for his belt. “I said git up now, fore I take my belt off on ya,”

Theo scrambled up and stood face to face with Mr. Johansson. Sweat poured down his back, and he stood glaring into the eyes of his 47-year-old tormentor. “You wait,” he threatened Johansson. “When I get adopted, I’m gun report ya ass.” Johansson laughed mockingly. “Adopted? Adopted? Don’t be a fool, boy. You been in here since heaven knows when. Your own godmother put you in here, and your parents ain’t nowhere to be found.

Nobody don’t want you anyhow.”

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I listened to her breathing and began to doze off.

I felt nudging, and Sarai nudged me. “Theo?” she said, in that cute lil’ mousy voice she got. “Yeah?” I said groggily. “We’re about to get off now…” I heard the conductor announce Studebaker, capital next stop.

I stood up, and grabbed onto the pole. So did Ceon, his eyes borin’ into my skull. I stared back and challenged him. I seized my bike from the back of the car. When the doors opened, I ushered Danny out and let Ceon go out first.

He cocked his head and squinted his eyes and surprised me by stopping short and saying, “Ladies first,” pointing to me, puffing out his chest in that odd way he got. I smiled. “Well, ain’t you supposed to be going, then?”

Danyelle stopped and stared at us, Sarai and Matt doing the same. Fletch looked on too, but he looked like he was too darn interested in the Brick breaker game he was playing on Danny’s phone. “Ladies, ladies,” she said to us. “You’re both pretty; now can we get a move on?” Ceon laughed. She grasped Sarai’s hand and shrugged. “Males,” Sarai said, teasingly. Danyelle burst out laughing, so did I. We all did, Ceon and everyone. Surprisingly, Ceon joined in, Mr. Uptight.

The station at Cottondale didn’t look any different from Sheathing’s but there weren’t any bike racks. And there was way more people.

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