The prisoners watched quietly to see what Jack was going to do with Kevin."Pick up the fork boy."Kevin reached down from his chair to pick up the fork...and Jack lifted his boot and kicked Kevin in his ribs sending him to the floor. Several other prisoners got up and moved their chairs out of the way."Jack," a voice hollered from the entrance of the lunchroom. "You got a phone call on line two."Jack looked at Kevin lying on the floor, buckled up in a fetal position from the impact of his boot. Outside, rain was falling in thick sheets, smearing the blood on his face and hiding the tears. He walked without seeing anything, the world having gone fuzzy behind a streaming curtain. His feet carried him blindly to his beat-up car and he sunk into its shelter, barely aware of the refuge from the rain. Outside there was no screaming of sirens or hollering of concerned neighbors, this was not the sort of neighborhood where gunshots often roused much concerned attention. As he pulled away, he. We began with drinks. Two of the women, Beth and Darla, decided they would be the designated drivers and would limit themselves to two drinks. The rest of us were getting rather plastered. Thank God the food came and helped us sober up some.We were all talking about Halloween traditions that we all had when we were younger. Trick or treating seemed to be the biggest. Others had said they attended a lot of costume parties. Someone suggested we do that next year."Well, it's time for my annual. I sat up for a minute. Wow! Coach Hope really must be rattled. That was the kind of stuff you don’t usually share with anyone except the very few people you trust absolutely. Either that or maybe I was becoming part of his innermost circle.“I thought that was a trait of all football coaches,” Dad said to lighten the mood.“You’re probably right,” Coach Hope said, then looked at me seriously. “I was wrong for what I did. You were right when you said all I had to do was communicate what my issue.
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