Chapter 19: Closed Door

By Monday morning there was a man at the foot of the gym stairs with a clipboard and two police officers.

Thirty kids stood on the sidewalk behind him with their gym bags.

"Complaint from a neighbor," the man said. "Unsafe assembly space. I'm suspending the permit that lets you hold classes."

"Which neighbor?" Cal asked.

"I can't tell you that."

"There's a tire shop under me and a vacant lot next door."

"The complaint was filed Friday afternoon. It's all in order." The man taped a yellow sheet to the glass. "You can reapply after a reinspection."

"How long is that?"

"Six to eight weeks."

A boy of about eleven asked Cal if they had to go home, and Cal crouched down and told him no.

He told him they were going to the church hall on Mulberry, and that Bea would carry the pads.

He said it so calmly that I did not understand how bad it was until I saw his hand on the doorframe.

The knuckles were white.

"Friday afternoon," I said quietly. "Vince filed it an hour after the press conference."

"I know."

"He said he'd start with the roof."

"He did," Cal said. "He started with the stairs."

Bea came down from the landing with a letter in her fist and her face red.

"The state amateur board," she said. "My card is pulled. 'Pending review of her association with persons under investigation.'"

"Persons," I said.

"That's me and you, Rae. They took my fights away for knowing you."

She ripped the envelope in two, and then she stood there on the sidewalk, nineteen years old, shaking.

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