My Name Is River Blue

by Noah James Adams

  When my day in the park with Papa was over, and it was time for me to begin my walk back to Tolley House, he volunteered to give me a ride since he took that direction to go home to his Deer Lake Farm. I was tired, and I wanted to ride with him, but the Mackeys had a rule against me riding with anyone but Miss Martin or them.

  "I can't take rides without my guardians' permission," I explained. I was still afraid that the Mackeys might use the excuse to ground me from visiting the park.

  "I understand," said Papa. "Let's go to my truck and call them."

  I was surprised that Papa knew the number to Tolley House and spoke to Jenny Mackey as if they were much closer friends than I thought they were.

  "Hey, Jenny. It's Ray Long here. How are you, girl? I'm good as grits, young lady. Listen, I'm calling to get permission to drive River home." Papa listened a moment and then chuckled. "No, everything's fine. He's a good kid. I want to give him a ride and talk to you and Hal about an opportunity for him. Is it okay? Good. I'm going to put you on with River, so he knows he has permission."

  I listened to Jenny say it was fine for me to ride with Papa. When the man took the phone again, I could still only hear his part of the conversation. "Jenny, everything is fine. We spent the day together, and he was well behaved. No laws broken and no one injured. Okay, see you in a bit." Papa ended the call, grinned, and rolled his eyes at me as if he were a kid making fun of his mother.

  As we crawled into Papa's Ford F-150 truck, he told me that he had known Hal and Jenny all of their lives, and that he had worked with a few of their former foster boys who had played sports. Two of the boys had also participated in the Harper Springs Youth Mentoring program. I wasn't surprised that he wasn't working with any of my current house brothers who were more interested in hustling weed.

  Papa mentioned working with Miss Martin to help foster boys, and the way he talked gave me the idea that they were close friends, maybe close enough that she might have put him up to befriending me. I wondered if meeting Papa was a coincidence or part of a conspiracy.

  In the Tolley House kitchen, the Mackeys and I sat at the table and listened to Papa. First, he wanted me to join him in the park the following morning to meet Coach Riddle, the junior high football coach. Papa said that after the coach timed me around the track and saw a demonstration of my skills, that he would want me to join his team when practice started in August. Papa made a bold statement when he told the Mackeys that with the right training, I could be a high school football star, good enough to win a college scholarship. My mind was still trying to comprehend winning a scholarship when he jumped to part two of his reason for speaking with the Mackeys.

  Papa believed that I could benefit from participating in the mentoring program in which a man served as a role model and advisor to a boy, who needed the attention, and he added that he would be glad to take the part of my mentor. Hal Mackey asked me if I would give the adults some time alone to discuss the offer, and I immediately suspected that Hal was going to give Papa some reasons why he might want to change his mind. I shot Hal a death stare and swore to myself that if he trashed me to Papa, I would make his life so miserable that his tranquilizers wouldn't help.

  In my room, my mood turned dark as I imagined Hal telling Papa that he was asking for trouble if he chose to become my mentor. After I had to threaten my house parents to get permission just to go to the park, I thought it would be a good time for Hal to mess with me.

  As I waited for Hal to call me back downstairs, I contemplated the possibilities of my new relationship with Papa. I enjoyed the older man teaching me and praising me each time I performed a drill well. I could not remember a time that I had experienced such a sense of self-worth as I did after only one day of working with Papa. Still, my cynical side warned me not to want an adult friend so much that my emotions blinded me.

  When Hal Mackey called me to rejoin them in the kitchen, I found out that my house parents were not trying to discourage Papa but were giving him their insight on how to help me. It was up to me to decide if I would accept Papa's offer to continue working with me on football and to serve as my mentor in the Harper Springs' program. The Mackeys' behavior reinforced my opinion that Papa was an important man in the community and that having him for my mentor was a big deal and a good opportunity for me.

  Jenny Mackey, a petite woman with a kind face and intelligent eyes, watched me carefully as she spoke to me. "Hal and I have absolute faith in what Papa can mean to the life of a boy, and it's an honor for you that Papa is offering to serve as your mentor. We want to know that you will take advantage of the opportunity and not waste time that Papa could spend with another boy who needs him."

  What else would I say? "I want his help, and I won't waste his time."

  Hal, the nerdy guy, who must have owned a thousand self-help and motivational books, had to add to Jenny's speech. I often wondered if anyone else ever noticed how he always had the last word in any conversation in which his wife was involved. I cringed when I saw his lips move.

  "Another thing, River," said Hal. "You must understand that while Jenny and I will still be your guardians, we and Miss Martin, will handle things a little differently if you accept Papa as your mentor. We will all work with Papa, but he will determine such things as your schedule, permission for any activities, and your discipline. He will be involved in every aspect of your life, including such areas as monitoring your progress in school. We believe it's too confusing for boys in the mentoring program to have too many chiefs directing them. Do you understand?"

  Damn, that man could talk. I tried to think in simple terms. "So you mean that Papa will be like another guardian, and I have to do what he says?"

  "Well, I suppose that's a simple way to put it," said Hal. He had a silly way of looking down his nose through the round lens of his eyeglasses, which he wore as close as possible to the end of his beak. Any sudden movement of his head would have sent his specs flying off his face, and if Hal had been a student at my school, I would have been tempted to thump the back of his head every time I saw him.

  The Mackeys invited Papa to stay for dinner, and while they were preparing the meal, Papa and I walked upstairs to my room to discuss the details of our agreement.

  Papa proposed that we spend time together each week as our schedules allowed, which meant I would have more time in the summer and less when school began. We would be together at least an hour or two on most days during my summer vacation. Papa promised not only to help me improve my football skills, but to teach me how to become a responsible young man and a respected citizen in the community. He wanted to help me develop characteristics that I would need to be successful in all areas of my life, including school and football. He spoke quite a bit about me becoming a leader.

  To Papa, it was important that I learn what he called, "The old-fashioned art of behaving as a gentleman." He promised to correct me when he disapproved of something I did or said, and he kept his word. I would hear him in my head many times in the future saying, "Is that how a young gentleman would act?"

  Papa further promised to recognize me for my efforts with rewards such as a fun outing or the purchase of something I wanted. I asked if new clothes could be a reward, and Papa agreed that they could. He indicated that he could be generous, but I would have to follow his rules.

  My mentor would not tolerate cursing, lying, stealing, cheating, or bullying. He intended to correct me when I used poor grammar, slang, or offensive language. I could not take part in a fight unless it was a case of self-defense or the defense of another person in a situation where there was no other choice such as simply walking away. Showing respect for adults and using the words "sir" and "ma'am" had to become a habit with me.

  Papa insisted that my studies had to come first before any other activities. He promised me that if I were doing poorly in school, there would be no time for football until my grades improved. He also wanted me to learn that it was important to get along with other people, and that if
I ever wanted to be the leader of a football team, or any other group, my character had to set a good example for others to follow.

  As Hal had already told me, Papa would be in charge of discipline, and he brought up the subject to make sure that I understood.

  "River, I will be strict about my expectations for you, and while I will enjoy rewarding you for good effort, I will discipline you just as quickly for breaking the rules you agreed to follow. Are you okay with that?"

  "Yeah, I'm okay with it, but can you tell me what the punishments will be?"

  Papa gave me a disapproving look. "What was the proper response to my question?"

  It took a few seconds, but I got it. "I should have started with 'Yes, sir.'"

  Papa nodded. "It will take some work to break bad habits and form new ones."

  "Yes, sir. It will." I grinned at him.

  "Discipline may be in the form of exercise such as pushups and running laps. Maybe running the steep hill behind my barn. You might get extra chores or lose a fun activity or reward. I like to see punishment be something productive such as improving your conditioning with exercise or completing a chore that might teach you something. Are you okay with everything I've told you?"

  "Yes, sir. As long as I deserve it, I'm good with it."

  "River, if there is ever a time when I say you have earned punishment and you disagree, tell me. If I can't make you understand, I'll drop it. Is that fair?"

  Was Papa real? "Yes, sir. That's very fair."

  Papa kept his word, and he was a fair man. When my behavior begged for corrective action, he gave it to me. Sometimes I did extra chores, but usually punishment came in the form of physical exercise. I ran the big hill behind Papa's first barn until my lungs burned, and I thought I might hurl. I did pushups until my arms would no longer support me. The fringe benefit of those punishments was the improvement in my physical strength and endurance.

  That day, in my bedroom at Tolley House, when Papa and I finished talking, I believed that I was starting a new life, and I was anxious to see where the man could lead me. I was excited about having serious goals. I imagined winning a football scholarship to college, playing pro ball, and having a life that I had always thought was out of reach for me. When I shook Papa's hand, I was determined to keep my end of our agreement, and I hoped that he would keep his.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  One night, about two weeks after I accepted Papa's offer to coach and mentor me, I left the dinner table to take a nap in my room instead of watching the movie that Jenny had rented for us. It had been a miserably hot summer day that left me so whipped after my workout with Papa, I only wanted to crash. The other kids in the park deserted the hot ball fields in favor of their cool homes long before I did. I would have done the same, but I didn't want to miss time with Papa, and I was too stubborn to quit before he was ready.

  I had just stripped to my boxers and stretched out on my bed when Jenny came upstairs to my room to tell me that Miss Martin was waiting for me in the office. I pulled on a pair of shorts and walked shirtless and barefooted to the Tolley House office. I was a little nervous because Miss Martin normally visited only once a month with each of her boys, and she had already seen me earlier that week. I had no idea why she would be back so soon unless she was moving me, or I was in trouble.

  I didn't want to move from Tolley House because it was much better than any alternatives would be. It was clean, I liked my room, and the food was good. I had even begun to get along better with Hal, Jenny, and my foster brothers. I still didn't have much to do with the other boys, but there were no serious arguments. As I had promised Papa, I was trying hard to be a good kid. I was even doing well at saying "sir" and "ma'am" to Hal and Jenny.

  I knew I wasn't in trouble when Miss Martin greeted me with a smile at the office door. She didn't hide her emotions very well, and she was not one of the sneaky, lying adults I hated. As we took seats facing each other, she promised to keep her visit short and then got right to the point of asking me for a favor.

  "River, I'm bringing a boy from Stockwell the day after tomorrow, and since your room has the only available bed, he will be your roommate."

  I wasn't happy to hear that my days of privacy were over, but I had known that it would happen one day, and there was no sense in showing my butt over it. "Okay," I said. "So why did you make a special trip to tell me? It's not like I have a choice."

  "You don't have a choice about having a roommate, but you do have a choice about how you treat him. I'll be honest with you, he's nervous about sharing a room with you because of your reputation at Stockwell. Specifically, your fight with the Krieger boy, and all the rumors that grew out of that mess. I assured him that he has no reason to worry, and I'm asking you to try to make him more comfortable."

  "I get it. He believes that I earned the "psycho" nickname. Who's the kid?"

  "His name is Antwon Jefferson, but they call him 'Ant.'"

  "I know who you mean. He's a skinny black kid." I had seen the kid and heard his roommate call him "Ant," but I didn't know much about him. I only knew that he wasn't a troublemaker because I would have heard more. Everyone knew the real jerks.

  "Yes, he's African-American and a very nice boy. Thirteen just like you. Ant risked his life to protect his mother, and she thanked him by telling a lie that sent him to Stockwell. Just like you, Ant should have never been in juvie, but he's served two and a half years."

  "Well, maybe he learned a lesson," I said. "He screwed up when he took care of his mother instead of himself."

  Miss Martin appeared to struggle with a response, and I think she decided not to give me a lecture on my cynicism. "I'm not asking you to become best friends with Ant, but I am asking you to make him feel safe and welcome. Maybe hang out with him some. Talk with him some. I would appreciate any little things you could do to make his transition easier."

  I thought about how to answer her. I wasn't babysitting the new kid, and his problems were not my problems just because we had to share a room.

  "Miss Martin, I won't be mean to that kid. I'll even tell him the routine here, but I ain't taking care of anyone but me. The other guys here do their thing, and I do mine. It will be the same with this new kid, so if he has personal problems, he'll need to talk to Hal and Jenny."

  I could see the disappointment in Miss Martin's eyes, but she should have known better if she was expecting any more out of me. She probably assumed that Papa was changing my attitude enough that I might agree to be the welcome wagon and on site social worker for Ant Jefferson. I couldn't remember making that deal.

  "Okay, River. I guess that's it. I'm sorry to have bothered you."

  Miss Martin's voice didn't sound angry, but I could tell she wanted more from me. I knew it had to be a real pain to deal with state kids, but that was her problem. The state paid her to do it, not me.

  I stood to leave. "You're mad at me?"

  She took a moment before she answered. "Would you care if I was?"

  "I like you, Miss Martin, but taking care of that kid ain't my job."

  She offered a tired smile. "We're still good, River. Goodnight."

  "Goodnight, Miss Martin."

  As I left, I saw that Hal and Jenny were waiting just outside the door. They told me "goodnight" and entered the office, closing the door behind them.

  I knew the Mackeys and Miss Martin would be talking about me. Would they advise Papa about my "selfish attitude?" I was curious enough that I hurried up the stairs to my room where I had accidently discovered a way of hearing any conversations in the office. The office was directly underneath my bedroom, and that same week, when I was doing pushups near an air vent in my floor, I clearly heard every word that Hal and Jenny said in the room below me. After I closed my door, I quietly stretched out on my bedroom floor with my ear over the vent.

  Jenny said, "He's been doing so much better about speaking and even using 'ma'am' and 'sir' that I thought he might respond differently."

  Hal add
ed, "Papa has made progress, but we're still walking on eggshells around him more than we do any of the other boys. With such an angry, bitter kid, you can't take it personally every time he fails to give more than the minimum expectations. With a kid like River, if you really need him to do something, you might just have to make it mandatory."

  "I'm not disappointed with him," said Miss Martin. "I only wish I could help him. I wish I could have helped him a long time ago before he went to Stockwell. He didn't deserve that sentence anymore than he deserved his treatment after he got there. He sees us as part of the same system that took an innocent kid with an already difficult life and threw him into a nightmare where he had to act like an animal to survive."

  Jenny spoke. "We know why he went to Stockwell, but there's not much information about his time there. In his file, it states that his counseling intensified because of an assault not long after he arrived, but they didn't give us details. Can you tell us what happened to him there? I think it might help us to understand him."

  Miss Martin explained about the lack of details. "They didn't give you everything because there was a big investigation resulting in people losing their jobs and some of them facing serious charges. The information is not something that the state wants to be public knowledge. I'll tell you what happened to River but please keep it quiet."

  ***

  Miss Martin felt guilty when Judge Merlo sentenced me to a minimum of two years in Stockwell because she believed that she should have fought Senator Paulson and Detective Walls and somehow found a way to save me from juvie prison. For a time, I also wanted to blame her even though I knew she would have never won against the senator and the judge. She probably would have lost her job, and I would have still gone to Stockwell. Each time Miss Martin visited me and brought me fresh fruit and protein bars, her eyes would tell me again that she was sorry. She rarely missed a week, and she never failed to bring food, but I didn't let her off the hook. I never even thanked her. Not even once.