“Sure.” Bede stood up, pretending he didn’t hear Kell’s gasp of delight. “Let’s make it happen.”
Another gasp came, this time from Wayne, who blinked at Bede, like he couldn’t believe what had just happened. Like he’d never experienced a single bit of kindness in his whole lumpy life. And like maybe Bede was playing a trick on him.
“I mean it,” said Bede. “Kell was my cellie before, so he can be again.”
Wayne actually grabbed Bede’s arm and tugged, like some impudent greenhorn who was newly arrived and didn’t know the protocols of prison. Never touch another man without his permission. Didn’t matter. Wayne had probably been a lightweight in prison. A second rung man.
Bede’s kindness to Wayne could probably be leveraged. In the meantime, he shooed them both out of the tent, and together the three of them went to what Wayne proudly announced was tent number one.
As they entered, the tent had a musty smell, a sense of clutter. Bede could feel his mouth curling in distaste.
They grabbed Kell’s stuff in armfuls and made several trips to tent number eleven, where they plopped everything on the empty cot, empty except for Bede’s new boots, which Kell showed him how to store beneath his own cot.
As Wayne raced happily away, back to his own fortress of green canvas, Kell plopped down onto the cot with his pile of things, and smiled up at Bede.
“My summer just got a fuckton better,” said Kell, grinning, his dark hair slipping across his forehead. A satisfied sigh escaped him, those green eyes, that old soul, happy at last.
“Was it bad?” asked Bede, even though he already knew the answer.
“Oh, he’s just—” Kell made a waving motion in front of his face. “He’s just sort of all over the place. Like his half of the tent was his, and then my half of the tent was also his. You know?”
Bede did know. In a prison cell, you had to draw strong lines about territory, otherwise you’d get walked all over. Kell had probably been doing his best to keep the peace. Only now, he wouldn’t have to.
“Guess that cot’s yours. That work for you?” For anyone else, Bede would have made the determination, rather than asking, and the other guy could like it or lump it. But for Kell, it was going to be fifty-fifty.
“Sure does.” Kell made a little bounce on the cot, which hardly moved nor made a single sound, which showed how sturdy and well-made it was.
While they shared the silence while quickly unpacking, Bede kept a weather eye out in case Galen came by to put the kibosh on the move, and realized how much he’d missed Kell’s presence. The quiet companionship of a reasonable man.
He wouldn’t say anything about it, because while his friendship with Kell seemed solid, there was no point digging in deeper when it would all come to an end at the end of summer. Or if Bede decided, which he might still do, to take off and do his parole another way.
Finally, when the tent was mostly squared away, a bell rang, the sound echoing through the thick trees.
“That’s dinner,” said Kell. “C’mon, you won’t believe how good the food is.”
Kell led Bede through the woods along the path strewn with pine needles. The mess tent hove into view, a long, green-canvas structure with wooden steps leading up to it.
Bede was just about to follow Kell up the stairs, toward the good smell of salt, hot bread, something sweet with sugar, whensomeone grabbed his elbow from behind. Another idiot who didn’t know the rule about not touching?—
Bede whirled around, grabbing, and found himself just about nose-to-nose with a very angry Marston. Who didn’t seem to care that Bede was a hardened criminal who’d done five years for making and selling and dealing very hard drugs. He was just plain mad, though about what, Bede had no idea.
“Hey, fuck off,” he said, prying at Marston’s very strong fingers.
“What the hell is going on?” Marston’s teeth were bared, and his eyes glittered as he towered over Bede.
“What the fuck do I know?” Bede finally got free of Marston’s grasp, and stood above him on the stair, though they were still the same height, since Marston was so tall. “What’s your problem?”
“I went to get Kell for dinner, and his stuff was gone.”
“Yeah, he moved in with me. So?”
But that, it seemed, was the problem. Marston had a setup just like he liked it, and Bede had come in and shuffled his world around.
“So? I’ll tell you so,” snapped Marston. “You’re thelastperson he needs to be hanging around with.”
Marston raised himself even taller, puffing out his chest, a move that was completely unnecessary, as he had enough height already.
He obviously felt Bede was a threat to him. Bede and his friendship with Kell.
