June 10, 2000.

  Twenty days since arrival in Arizona.

  Billy was on his cot singing melodies tinuously, with gentle grace. Every day, he practiced his singing with all the teiques taught by Master Spencer. He did everything or expio him, harshly rejeg those roached him, arguing about meddling in matters that didn't him. or nodded, and both tinued with their lives. Uwin Towers, a reformatory institution, there was no school all day to do whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted, and however you wanted.

  However, there were educational csses simir to high school. You could take a fast course and sit for an exam accrediting your education level. At Billy's request, he and or took a css in social sces. However, Billy opted flish and mathematics. The study hall provided individual csses every day from 9 am to 1 pm; all inmates had to take their studies separately.

  Once a week, they had a treatment and rehabilitatiram. Acc to Joseph, they were the ones who allowed early release from prison, usually fog on those living abusive lives at home, individuals with a high criminal history, or the IPs, a fancy term for psychopaths used in some cases with criminals who had no apparent motives for their crimes.

  The lead guide preferred to treat individuals one-on-one and monthly requested group exercises. After all, at Arizona State, they sent all cases deemed hopeless: dangerous criminals who needed a life of supervised living away from danger.

  In the m, or and Billy were allowed to use musical instruments in another small room until 5:00 pm, marking the end of academic sessions. It was there they practiced most of the day. Billy began to see that no one approached them except the S-45 group, asking if they could handle certain matters—minor things, acc to or, just details. The first task: get nails; the sed: note dowrol schedules in the west hall; the third: observe or check who or what was selling supplies in the prison and make some purchases.

  Billy learned a lot; the atmosphere in the prison was much more dangerous thahought. He kept away from everyone. Joseph asked him to sing songs in the evenings, and Billy softly sang the repertoire of nine songs they knew—four of his own, two by Frank Sinatra, two by Louis Armstrong, and one by Elvis Presley, taught to him by Joseph's namesake, the old Joseph, the old curmudgeon who shared a room in his hotel.

  To get to his room, he had to go up to the sed floor and walk fifteen cells, situated in the middle. Security guards watched in the ers and some corridors; they only allowed entry to those wearing their assigned floor uniform, whether it was 2 or 3. There was only oaircase for all prisoners, for both entry and ast.

  They followed a strict schedule, but it was a schedule. Billy didn't have time to py the piano, but he could practice the guitar, and some simple notes, but his fingers had grown aced to the piano.

  The schedule was always the same: leave the cell at 6:00 am, bath, meal until 7:00 am, take csses until 1:00 pm, lunch, do whatever you want—if you're in the educational halls, it's until 5:00 pm—and exercise from 5:00 pm to 6:00 pm. On weekends, it was the same, except the exercise gap extended by five hours. ued that people who exercised were bothered the least. For the first time in his life, he used crete bars as a bench press.

  Both Billy and or sat at a somewhat distant table and practiced music as best they could. They both had a strict day or so it seemed. On weekends at 7:00 am, he hadn't received visits from anyone in general. Every day, his hope dwihat someone would visit him. The summer heat was more intense, but he tinued exerg, pying basketball with a rge group on Sundays until his shoulders gave out.

  -e on, maggots, get up, - said the security guard, who, u Twin Towers, looked much more threatening.

  -I love waking up in the m to the whisper of the birds. The day they stop calling me maggot, rat, i, fool, freak, or troublemaker, I'll wake up in a bad mood, - said Joseph, jumping off the bunk.

  Billy just yawrying to repose himself; he could only repose himself. Being asleep wasn't a good idea. Even with support. Somethiiced was that the cells were much emptier; at least 30 boys had left.

  -You bet, - said Billy, anizing himself as quickly as possible, taking a shower, eating, and starting with the daily routine as soon as possible. Arizona rison that collected all minor offenders from the West Coast; here, there were enough security guards to ensure safety. The kids weren't wise enough to threaten the guards.

  Joseph simply ignored him; Billy had known for a long time that he was a narcissist, although he enjoyed hearing Billy sing, their iion was just allowing Billy to sing until they both fell asleep.

  -. -

  -. -

  -. -

  Everyone moved in straight lines without stopping. Billy showered as quickly as he could, with cold water, and a bit of soap from a liquid dispenser provided before the shower, and he anized his day as best as he could. The bck gang watched him, especially a boy who had previously beaten him up, with a fierce expression. He remained just as big, surrounded by a rge group of bck boys; the bck gang was twice the size of the white one, but they were divided, the rger number causing the whites to be more united.

  Racism wasn't palpable, and there were very few racist attempts, but there were nuances, like how the bck gang was more closely monitored.

  -Stop staring, you're being obvious, - said Sam, a member of the S-45.

  's just an old grudge. Big Dog gave me a terrible beating in the previous reform school, - said Billy.

  - we settle something? - Sam asked maliciously.

  -No, it's better not to start a war over something stupid. I'm waiting for him to make the first move, - said Billy.

  -You should ask Jimmy to teach you boxing; he's a champion. His fists are quid heavy, -suggested Sam.

  -Have you tried? - Billy questioned.

  -I prefer knives, - Sam replied.

  -What's the point of fighting when you have a revolver? - Billy remarked.

  Sam raised an eyebrow. -Who said that? - he asked.

  -A friend, who said that fighting is good, but knowing how to shoot is better, - Billy expined.

  Sam's eyebrows furrowed with disdain. -I prefer the knife. Do you wao teach you? - he offered.

  -Sure, - Billy agreed.

  Sam smiled; using the knife is easy. All you need is the right stance, with a small wooden stick, Sam expihe easiest ways to stab a person and how to avoid getting hurt in the process. The edge of the knife isn't something good to use, and it's better to use the pointed end.

  -It depends on the size, but it's best to use it close to the body, pointing the ft part towards your body so the edge doesn't touch your skin. Aim for the eyes, be quick, - Sam advised. The versation sted 30 minutes, but Billy learned a lot.

  It was enough teag time to finish his lund walk to the educational halls, which were more empty than full. or was in the musi, practig with drumsticks. There was no drum kit in this pce, but he mao grab a pair of sticks and practidividually.

  -A social studies and math book, please, - said Billy, referring to the two csses he was taking. The assistant, not very sure if he was a full-time teacher, answered questions that were asked, sat at the desk, and read a book silently while the youths took notes, some just attempted to study, and others whispered.

  Billy tinued his sporadic efforts to remember his math ses, which was difficult due to his apparent ck of knowledge and skills. He pleted the iive guides for social studies, c the Sed World War, ideological parties of the time, and relevant historical data.

  -Have you finished your work? - Billy asked or, who nodded.

  -Good, let's practice music, - said Billy.

  ...