Two days later, streamers hang along the back of the amphitheater for the semi-annual graduation. The student decoration committee strung Christmas lights along the trees. The soft white lights gain strength as the late summer sun sets over the high mountains. A warm breeze tosses instrumental music from speakers in the trees. Mario is the only student I know on the graduation list. He'll get his diploma and tower-guard uniform in tonight's ceremony. In the last few days, I learned more about him than any other person in The Center.
He'd become my friend. My first real friend.
Family members of fifty graduating students arrive that afternoon in two luxury buses. No need for a snowcat on the dry July day. Earlier, visitors roamed the facility, encouraged to donate to The Center. Tours of buildings. Art and science presentations. Visits to the observation towers. All part of keeping The Center alive. A strange pride rises in me, like I felt about my school in San Diego. That strange connection to colors and a mascot.
I sit in the top row on the far left of the natural benches that stepped down toward the stage. Dee Dee signals to me to come join her and dreadlocks girl. That wasn't going to happen. No way I could change that much that fast.
"Hi." Mario squeezes though the descending crowd toward me. Next to him stands a short, bearded man. "I'd like you to meet my father. Papi, this is Courtney Manchester."
"Thomas Rodriquez." He holds out his small hand. "Nice to meet you." As he grips my fingers, I see the flicker of recognition. "Did you say Manchester? Any relation to US Senator John Manchester?"
"Papi, you're not here to network."
"No, no you're right." The older man lets go of my hand.
"It's nice to meet you." I point my smile at Mr. Rodriquez, then nod and wink. Any other day I would have been quick to brag, but this night isn't about me.
"Walk down with us."
"Oh no." I shake my head. "I like it better up here."
"You don't have to stay, there's someone I want you to meet."
How could I refuse? Mr. Rodriquez offers me his elbow. We take two long strides to move down each wide amphitheater step. Voices mingle louder near the bottom. Some of the visitors scan the crowd like spectators at a zoo. One guy looks away when I catch him staring at my Bracelet. To my surprise I don't react.
"Courtney, this is my mother." A tall, dark woman with the same nose as Mario stands up. She nods her head without speaking. I nod back. She looks uncomfortable.
I rub my baby bump while Mario wraps his arm around the shoulder of a petite girl who looks to be about ten. "And this is my sister, Laila."
"Hello." She smiles at me from just the left side of her mouth. The other side remains frozen. The sincerity in her eyes reminds me of a much younger child. I didn't know the full extent of her disability. But, I can see why Mario needs the crutch of a Savior. If I would have destroyed Kat like this I'd need religion too. The child is kind and beautiful and everything a person should be. "Nice to meet you," Laila slurs.
"You too." I accept the hug she gives me. While her body appears fragile, her hug pinches me tight. I choke back my reaction. This wasn't supposed to be an emotional evening, but Mario's family dynamic stirs a hope in me. The majority of my relatives wouldn't take my call, let alone celebrate my release. Not that I had to worry about that for a while.
I unwrap myself from the affectionate child. "I'd better get back to my seat. Nice to meet you all." I wave good bye and hurry back up to the shadows. I don't want the emotion building up in me to spill. I nod at a couple of other inmates as I ascend the amphitheater, not really seeing them clearly.
YOU ARE READING
The Center
Teen FictionHidden high in the Rocky Mountains, The Center houses inmates ages twelve to twenty-two. The experiment in reform isn’t without controversy. Blogs report students being tasered or tortured in a dungeon. Eighteen-year-old, Courtney Manchester doesn’t...