Calmly, Carefully, Completely(2)

I look at Mr. Caster’s forearms and think I see a tattoo creeping out of his short-sleeved dress shirt. He follows my gaze and shrugs.

“You think you’re the only one who wears your heart on your sleeve, Mr. Reed?” he asks, but he’s smiling.

I shake my head. “Your opportunity sounds interesting,” I say. “But I’m on house arrest for a year. I can only go to work and/or approved activities.”

“I already talked to your parole officer,” he says. “He’s in favor of it.” He crosses his arms in front of him on the table and leans on his elbows. “Only if you want to, though. No one is going to force you.”

I pick up the brochure and start to read. It actually looks kind of interesting.

“You’d be doing me a big favor,” he says. “I need another man present who can be a good role model for the boys we’ll be taking from the juvenile detention facility. They’ll be there working, getting service hours. I need someone to help me with them. That’s why I need you.” He narrows his eyes. “You’re big and scary looking enough.” He grins. “And your file looks good.”

“You’ll have the youth offenders at your camp? Working with the kids?”

He shakes his head quickly. “They’ll interact some with the kids. But not much. They’ll be there more to help with the daily living tasks—feeding the horses, moving hay, stacking boxes, doing odd jobs, helping with meals…”

I’ve never been afraid of manual labor. My brothers have drilled it into me from day one that I am going to work hard at everything I do or I’ll have to answer to them. I heave a sigh. I’m slowly talking myself into this.

“There’s a perk,” he says. He grins.

“Do tell,” I say. I sit back and cross my arms in front of me.

“If your time spent at the camp goes well, I can ask for leniency with regard to your house arrest, based on merit.” He looks into my eyes. “If you earn it, that is.”

Wow. I could get leniency? “It’s for five days?” I ask.

He nods. “Monday through Friday.”

I heave a sigh. “When do we leave?”

He grins and holds out a hand for me to shake. I put my hand in his, and he grips it tightly. “We leave tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow?” I gasp. I haven’t even gone home yet. I haven’t gotten to spend any time at all with my brothers.

He nods. “At oh-dark-thirty.” He smiles again. “You still up for it?”

“It can really shorten my sentence?” I ask.

He nods. “Maybe. It’s up to the judge. And depends on how things go at camp.” He sobers and looks directly into my eyes. “Pete, I think you could help with the boys I’ve invited to the camp. With all of them. You can help with the hearing-impaired boys, the ones who can’t talk, and the ones from the youth program. I think you can do brilliant things. I believe in you, Pete, and I want to give you an opportunity to prove you’re better than this.” He makes a sweeping gesture that encompasses the room.

Better than jail? Am I better than what I have become? I am not so sure.

“Do we have a deal?” he asks.

I nod and stick out my hand again for him to shake. “We have a deal.”

“Do you need for someone to pick you up in the morning?” he asks.

I shake my head. “I can get here.”

“I’ll see you at six a.m.” He claps a hand on my shoulder and points toward the door. “I believe your family is waiting outside.”