I’ll Become the Sea Read Free Page A

couldn’t sight-read. And the school, you know, everybody works hard, but it’s not the most cutting-edge place.
    “He’s doing a little better now. We do phonics every day, and I tutor him after school twice a week. He’s learning fast. I’d say he’s about early third grade by now.”
    “That’s a lot of progress.”
    “He’s bright. He just needed some decoding skills.”
    “And a teacher who cared about him.”
    “Oh, wait until you spend some time with him. He’s worth it.”
    “Well, I’m looking forward to doing that. We’re accepting him into the program. He can start next week. Will that interfere with your tutoring?”
    “Oh, I didn’t think of that. Is it five days a week?”
    “Yes, from three-thirty to six. He’ll take the bus from school.” He paused. “You could tutor him here if you like. We could adjust his schedule for the days you’re here. It’s not so far from your school. Maybe ten blocks.”
    “Hmm. Let me think about that. Tuesdays and Thursdays, it would be.”
    “That sounds fine. Why don’t you stop by next Tuesday? That’ll be Raymond’s second day. You can check the place out and see if it would work for you to meet him here.”
    “Um, sure. That would be great.”
    He gave her the address and directions to his office.
    “It’s Mr. Casey, right?”
    “Yes, David Casey. Call me David.”
    “David. My name is Jane.”
    “We’ll see you Tuesday then, Jane. I’m looking forward to meeting you.”
    She felt her heart jump a little and wondered why. There was something about his voice. It was quiet and kind. And she was an idiot, she thought, looking at the gold ring on her finger. “Yes, me too. Thank you for accepting Raymond. You won’t regret it.”

Chapter Three
    The drive was long, and she knew it like a series of reflexes, automatic, from years of treading the same path. One weekend every month, for the last ten years. Except when they went on lockdown, which could happen at any time. A stabbing. Electrical repairs. She always had to call first, to make sure she wasn’t braving the trip only to be turned away at the door. They’d been lucky, though. He was only an hour away from her mother. If a visit fell through she could always go and stay with her.
    He’d been moved twice. This last place he’d been in for six years now. Long enough to establish a routine. A record of good behavior. Polite, predictable behavior. Easier for him without access to drinking.
    He used his time reading, following the daily schedule, listening to talk radio. He’d managed to get a job at the prison library after years on the waiting list. His disposition had improved a great deal since then. The boredom, the idleness, made him mean. He was gentler with her now.
    She had two hours for each visit and had to show up early. The metal detectors, the pat-downs—they took a while. She made a final mental check of her clothing as she pulled into the visitors’ lot. No metal buttons. No belt. No underwire bra. Once she had forgotten that rule, dressing quickly in her haste to get to him on time, and had set off the detector twice. They’d sent her away. The C.O. was in a foul mood that day. Sarcastic, dismissive, he’d waved his hand and told her to come back when she learned how to follow the rules.
    Clearing the security checks, she found her father waiting for her at a table in the visitors’ room. He was dressed in the prison’s standard-issue clothing, still a shock for her to see. They used to let the inmates dress in their own clothes, but that had changed a few years back. They’d sent all his things back to her mother and given him a set of uniforms instead.
    He rose when she entered. They were allowed one embrace at the start of each visit and one at the end. He hugged her. She tried not to stiffen and hoped he didn’t notice when she did.
    They took their seats on opposite sides of the table.
    “Hi, Dad.”
    “Janie. You look good.”
    “Thanks. So do