Sparring Partners(52)

There are no lights around the yard. It’s never used after dark. The squat, flat-roof building that is death row is attached to it and runs forty yards east and west. At the far end is the Gas House, another tumor-like appendage added on decades earlier.

The thick metal door opens and Cody walks out, without cuffs and chains. Marvin, unarmed, follows and watches him closely. In the distance, searchlights sweep the sky and a helicopter is heard somewhere. It’s time for a killing and the air is filled with excitement.

Cody stands in the center of the yard and stares at the full moon, so large it’s almost within reach. “Well, it hasn’t changed, has it? Same old moon.”

Marvin leans on the picnic table, says, “You were expecting something different?”

“It seems closer, don’t you think?”

“I doubt it. How’d you know it was a full moon?”

“Because it’s June twenty-second, the first day of summer. That’s called a strawberry moon.”

“Never heard of that.”

“Come on, Marvin. You serious?”

“Never heard of it. Why’s it called a strawberry moon?”

“Because in late spring and early summer the strawberries and other fruits finally ripen. The Indians gave it the name of strawberry moon.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means the full moon looks closer for a few days.”

“How do you know that?”

“Oh, I used to know all the stars and constellations, Marvin. Me and Brian lived in the wild, slept during the day, roamed at night. You wanna hear a story, one of my favorites?”

“Sure, but you’d better talk fast. If the warden catches us out here there’ll be hell to pay.”

“I’m not worried about the warden.”

“Well, I am. I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

“Me and Brian broke in a house one time and we couldn’t find any guns or jewelry or anything we could sell. Hell, they didn’t even have any frozen pizza. But the dude who owned the house had this really nice telescope set up in his den, in front of a big window so he could watch the stars. We were pissed off at him so we took his telescope, figured we might be able to fence it for a few bucks. That night we set it up in a field and started playing around with it. I’ll never forget the thrill of looking at the surface of the moon, the craters and ridges and valleys. ‘Magnificent desolation,’ as one astronaut described it. We looked at it for hours, completely mesmerized. A week or so later we broke into another house and it was a gold mine. Guns, jewelry, radios, a small television. Quite a haul. Even pizza. We fenced the stuff and had a pocketful of cash. We found a cheap motel, paid for a room, took showers, slept under the air-conditioning. Lived the big life. We did this from time to time when we had the money. Not far away was a library, a branch of the main one downtown. We went there—my first time in a library, I can promise you that—and we were surprised to learn that anybody could walk in off the street, for free, and read newspapers and magazines. We browsed around, and upstairs we found this beautiful picture book on the solar system and constellations, the various phases of the moon. So we stole it and took it back to our campsite. We studied it from cover to cover, I couldn’t read that well but Brian had finished the eighth grade, and we learned all about the stars. We spent hours every clear night with the telescope. We could look at the moon, without the telescope, and tell what day of the month it was. When there was no moon and the sky was thick with stars, we could spot, with the naked eye, all the constellations. Orion, Scorpius, Gemini, the Northern Cross, Taurus the bull, Ursa Major, more commonly known as the Big Dipper. And with the telescope we found stars and solar systems that they never teach you in school. We got in a big fight one time because Brian swore he found Pluto. Can you believe that?”

“I’m not sure what to believe.”

“We kept that telescope, never fenced it, not even when we were hungry.”

“That’s a nice story, except for the part about breaking and entering and stealing.”

“What were we supposed to do, Marvin? Starve to death?”

“That don’t make it right.”

“Whatever.” Cody points to the moon. “Brian liked the dark nights, the Milky Way, thousands of stars, but me, I loved the moon. And when it was full, like tonight, it was almost impossible to see the constellations. Didn’t bother me. I spent hours exploring its surface, convinced there was somebody living up there. You see that dark area just to the right of dead center? That’s the Sea of Tranquility, where Apollo 11 landed in July of 1969. Remember that, Marvin?”

“Everybody remembers that. You were just a kid.”

“I was eight years old, living with a foster family, the Conways. One of many, back then. They were okay, I guess, but one of the bad things about being a foster kid is that you always know that you really don’t belong. Anyway, it was a Sunday night and Mr. Conway made us all gather in front of the TV and watch the moon landing. It didn’t mean much to me. You?”

“I don’t know, Cody. It was a long time ago. Back then little black boys didn’t dream of growing up to be astronauts.”

“Well, I was a little white boy and I damned sure didn’t dream of being one either. All I remember dreaming about was having a mother and a father and living in a nice little house.”