Page 80 of The River Is Waiting

He shakes his head. Says he owes me an amends. “I’ll bring it up at the next meeting and apologize to you for breaking a confidence. It won’t happen again, bro. I promise. We good?”

“Yeah, we’re good,” I tell him. “And you can skip the public apology. Your promise is good enough.”

When he thanks me and walks away, I glance at the titles of the books Lester’s read. There’re a number of Walter Mosley novels, of course, and baseball biographies of everyone from Smokey Joe Williams to Mookie Betts. He was into political books, too:Soul on Ice, Between the World and Me, Notes on a Native Son.So many of the men who come to prison spend their time stewing in resentment and letting their minds rot. Not Lester. I guess being a reader and a thinker was the way he found to survive his lengthy sentence.

“Corby!” Mrs. M calls. “I’m off the phone now. Let’s talk.”

Approaching her, I ask again what she wanted to see me about. “Well, you finally made it to the top of the waiting list, but in order to be a library assistant, you have to have more than a year left on your sentence. I checked on your release date and it disqualifies you.”

“Bad timing’s one of my specialties,” I tell her.

“But I have an idea for a special assignment I hope you’ll consider.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“Follow me,” she says, and takes me over to the wall where those dated posters of celebrities promoting reading used to hang. “We have this big blank wall now.”

I pretend-gasp. “Don’t tell me you’re retiring Yoda and Penny Hardaway and the Duke boys.”

“I just hope the American Library Association will forgive me,” she says. “At first, I was thinking I’d buy some inexpensive art at Home Goods or TJ Maxx to fill up the space. Then I remembered when Beena Patel mentioned you were an artist and I asked to see some of your work.”

“Yeah, well, those drawings I showed you were just rough—”

“Stop being so modest. How would you like to make this wall your canvas?”

“What do you mean? Paint you a mural?” She nods. I shake my head.

“Why not?”

“I’ve never done anything this large. I’d screw up the perspective. Too much pressure. Plus, I’m not even that good.”

“Nice try, but I’ve seen your work. You’ve already passed the audition.”

“Yeah, well, that’s flattering, but there’s a big difference between doing pencil drawings in an eight-by-twelve sketch pad and painting an entire wall.” I hand her the book I’m borrowing and she checks it out. “Thanks for thinking of me, though.”

“Well, I’m disappointed,” she says. “I guess it’s back to Home Goods.”

“Not necessarily. There’s got to be a lot of guys doing time here who have artistic talent. I’ll ask around, see if I can come up with a couple of names for you. Okay, I better get back. See you next time.”

I’m out the door and halfway down the stairs when I stop and go back in.

“What subject are you thinking of?”

She says she doesn’t have anything specific in mind—that it would beup to me. I remind her that I’ve passed on the offer, but she says, “Maybe you can come up with a few ideas, work up some sketches. Nothing too controversial that the powers that be could object to.”

“Okay then. How about a scene out in the yard with cons pole-vaulting over the fence? Or a seascape with Warden Rickerby playing beach volleyball with her custody officers? Do you think she’d pose for me in a bikini?”

She laughs and tells me not to be naughty. “But seriously, Corby, I suppose it should be something uplifting. Hopefully, something colorful.”

“I think colorful would be a tall order since the only color palette they seem to have here is drab gray, drab pink, and drab green.”

“Oh, you don’t know how resourceful I can be. I have contacts I can hit up at Sonalysts, Sherwin-Williams, and the Art Department at Connecticut College. I can get you all the colors of the rainbow, whatever you need. What do you say?”

I tell her I’ll think about it. Work on some ideas.

“So that’s a yes?”

“It’s a probably not but maybe.” She taps her finger against the blank wall and waits. “Okay, it’s a maybe unless you hate what I come up with.”

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