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“Be
careful,” the driver said as Stanley walked down the steps.
Stanley
wasn't sure if the bus driver meant for him to be careful going
down the steps, or if he was telling him to be careful at Camp
Green Lake. “Thanks for the ride,” he said. His mouth was dry
and his throat hurt. He stepped onto the hard, dry dirt. There
was a band of sweat around his wrist where the hadncuff had been.
The
land was barren and desolate. He could see a few run-down buildings
and some tents. Farther away there was a cabin beneath two tall
trees. Those trees were the only plant life he could see. There
weren't even weeds.
The
guard led Stanley to a small building. A sign on front said, YOU
ARE ENTERING CAMP GREEN LAKE JUVENILE CORRECTIONAL FACILITY.
Next to it was another sign that declared it was a violation of
the Texas Penal Code to bring guns, explosives, weapons, drugs,
or alcohol onto the premises.
As
Stanley read the sign he couldn't help but think, Well, duh!
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