I am in custody. "He's my son," Dad says, but that doesn't fix it, and I don't expect it to. The room I'm held in is not a cell, but another small room with a cot and a night table. The bathroom is down the hall. I go there to wash, and it has a flusher, and that's fine. Dad brings my knapsack which has a few extras because we didn't know about the weather and it's best to be prepared. But even the sight of my knapsack worried Maman though I'd been pretty much living out of it since staying at Aunt Christah's. "Listen to me Tonio, I'm right here. I'm going along. You're not alone. Do you hear me?" Dad says as they make him say good night. I just nod. I hear him, but he's already far away, in my mind, the other side of a fence, barbed wire. His eyes, looking at me. Not this way. Not like this. When I am alone, it's so quiet in the room.
