Kalico 2: Hypnotized & Naked in Hope Springs

Yolanda: Journal

Oh! The Ear-Rye-Eee was arising, And the liquor was a-gettin' low, And I scarcely think I'll get another drink 'Till we get to Buff A lo-io,'Till we get to Buffalo! – from American folk song, The Erie Canal, as sung by Hope Springs students.

Relevance of that song to this story: None.

Yolanda Blackwell: Wednesday, Somewhere in Hope Springs, Texas

Check the electronic trail history of my ankle monitor if you want a better fix on my current position.

The latest Committee that wants to tell me what to do says I should keep a daily journal. Not that they would tell me what to say in this journal, or at least not much tell me. Only that I really, seriously ought to understand that it will do me a world of good to write down stuff every day. At least something written, maybe like in a computer file and maybe include some personal stuff and maybe what I've been thinking about. Or what I have been doing. That sort of stuff.

That was yesterday and I promised to give it a try.

Now, this is today and I am getting started on giving it a try.

My name Yolanda Blackwell and this is my journal as required of me by Eternal High School in Hope Springs, Texas. When classes resume next Tuesday I'll be overjoyed to be in the ninth grade and get back into the routine of the vast academic world. Homework! Finally more homework after such a long summer of boredom.

Or maybe not. Maybe I am being sarcastic.

The committee said to write what I'm thinking about. As it turns out, I was thinking about that song about the Erie Canal. I got the words wrong but that's the best I can remember.

I've been thinking about ankle bracelets and lawyers, too. And His Honor My Papa and conspiracies and crises of adolescence and maybe quitting school.

Well, maybe I wouldn't have thought about quitting school but this Committee told me and my friend Wallflower that we fit the profile of People At Risk so if we know what's good for us we better not even think about quitting school. So, since they brought up the topic, several times an hour I think about quitting school.

And lawyers. Yeah, since yesterday I have been thinking about lawyers. Even thoroughly guilty Juvenile Delinquents get lawyers don't they?

I brought up the topic during supper with His Honor last night.

I don't need a lawyer, he explained. Lawyers are expensive. As my parent, the Honorable Papa took the responsibility of pleading me guilty in exchange for favorable treatment in his own court. It saved us a lot of money. Then, as Justice of the Peace for this end of Mugwump County, His Honor My Papa saw to it that the not-so-honorable-and-obviously-guilty Defendant, Yolanda Myself Blackwell, was indeed found guilty. However, His Honor the judge kept his promise and didn't levy any fine that His Honor My Papa would have to pay.

Instead, His Honor the Judge sentenced me to wear a tracking device on my ankle and do community service by picking up aluminum cans and trash from along the highways approaching Hope Springs. Furthermore, something in the tracking device sets off an alarm at the law enforcement substation between The Glory Hole Restaurant and Hope Springs Park. If I wander more than a mile away from that substation, a police officer or sheriff's deputy will soon show up to take me back to town.

And what am I guilty of? I asked His Honor again last night during supper.

Juvenile Delinquency and Runaway, His Honor explained. "But don't worry, I've got it set up so your juvenile record is sealed as soon as you turn 18 years old, provided you behave yourself. No daughter of mine is going to have a police record as an adult if I can prevent it."