White Pines Sing

II. The Pines

The kid was indeed gone. For nearly six hours. As the night progressed, Tyler listened to the voices on his radio and he could hear the rage building up in the staff members who had arrived during the night. Simply put, no one could fathom the possibility that this had happened. By early morning, the staff began to consider calling in the Sheriff. It would be a drastic measure, and not one Tyler had ever heard discussed before.

Fortunately it wasn't necessary. The entire debate was cut short by Cameron, who, with great pride and relief, declared that he had eyes on the kid. When Tyler heard this, he and Kenna circled back around to where Cameron stood overlooking a bluff. He pointed towards a clearing roughly fifty yards below, and Tyler fully expected to see the kid sprinting away again. But he didn't. Instead all he saw when he looked through the pine trees was a broken down, dirt-covered boy walking with his hands up in the air and one of the most desperate looks he had ever seen on anyone's face.

It was protocol to tackle the runaway to the ground and restrain him, and Cameron took charge to do that. He waved off assistance when Tyler tried to offer it, and so Tyler walked back up to Kenna and looked on with her.

"Just let him handle it", she whispered.

"This won't fix anything for him. He's fucked. Even if he hauls the kid back in himself. It won't matter."

"Just let him do it." she said.

"What does he think he can do? Who's he kidding? They know he wasn't posted."

"I don't want him panicking out here", Kenna said.

"I don't want him doing anything crazy."

***

The Pines did have an official name: the Gaines Reform Camp. It covered 110-acres in northern New Hampshire and was completely encircled by a dense forest of white pine trees. The program itself was narrowly tailored to the process of reforming troubled youth, and every element of it was vital. Inside Gaines, the beds, the furniture, and the windowless rooms had all been designed with the program in mind. The plates, the cups, the soap - everything was tightly controlled and accounted for. No resident turned on a faucet without going down the proper checklist first.

Failure to follow even the most minute details would result in some of the program's harshest punishments. The Pines' founders said that by overreacting to the smallest mistakes, they could transform the behavior of any troubled youth. To any parent considering enrolling their child, the staff explained that its results were well worth the price of their standards. Over time they simply began to call it "the program", and it took precedence above all else.

Tyler had arrived at the program from Wyoming, after he skipped out of alternative school for a second time. The insurance company informed his parents that Gaines was a viable option, and a solid one if they wished to help him. No more excuses, they said. That was nearly two years ago. Just until you get yourself together, they told him. Two years ago. Just get it right, he said to himself.

Residents who accepted their new reality and followed the program were eventually promoted to the level of Upper. The Uppers had privileges and rights that the Lowers did not, and in return they served an active part. Their purpose was to maintain day to day control of the Lowers and to hold one another accountable. Work to not only improve yourself, they said, but those around you as well.

The Uppers were promoted through a series of ranks, each of which took a minimum of three months to achieve. Ninety-percent never made it past the fifth rank before being shot back down. Even most Uppers were forced to wait until they turned eighteen and could legally sign themselves out. Failure was too easy to come by. Some even stayed past their eighteenth birthday, a testament to the vice grip the program had on them. After years at Gaines, most kids had nothing. No place to go and no one to reach out to. Tyler knew one girl in Hall B that was twenty-three years old. Still on rank two.

The role an Upper carried was based on rank and on behavioral status. Tyler's first role was Razor Rat in Hall C. This meant he was responsible for making sure everyone showered and shaved and brushed their teeth and did everything required during the given hygiene time. Most notably, the Razor Rat was in charge of the razors. He used a piece of paper to fulfill this duty. It was a large thick sheet covered in tape, with numerous holes punched in it, and he stored each individual razor above the owner's name. When the Hall lined up at the sinks, the Rat would hold this paper out, like the flat piece of wood an artist mixes his paint on. This way, they could track every single razor, even when they were in use. Tyler could easily tell who still had one just by looking at the empty names. This level of diligence was absolutely necessary. Any Rat who lost a razor would be shot down immediately.

To be shot down was to be demoted, not just back to a Lower, but to the position of a Shot-Down. Shot-Downs had not only failed the staff, but they had betrayed the trust of their fellow residents. No graver sin than that. The various duties of a Razor Rat meant they were always alert and always forceful, and it showed. The system was so refined at Gaines that not a single razor had gone missing in years.

All it shows is how scared anyone is to make a mistake, Kenna once said. I mean what do you even do? You just hold the thing out for them to use. If anything goes missing for too long, you thrash the shit out of whoever took it and you put it back. I did it. It's simple. Just don't forget the cans, she told Tyler.

  The Rat was also in charge of the shaving cream cans. Shaving cream was considered to be a narcotic, since most of the residents learned at one point or another how to dislodge the nitrous tube from the inside of the can and inhale it. This was one of the only ways a resident of the program could get high, and many a Razor Rat had been shot down because a can went missing. Tyler never let go of the can. Instead he would put just a bit of the stuff into the residents' hands as they lined up. Whenever a can did go missing, it was usually because the Rat was more concerned with keeping track of the razors and not the shaving cream. Better to make a mistake that leads to someone getting high than someone getting killed, Kenna told him.

One year later,  Tyler was assigned to the Night Owls. The Owls would begin their work at dusk near the edge of the Pines, where they would wait for someone to run. They always caught the runaway.