In October of 1976 I found myself back at Terrace dorm 4 contemplating how I would get back to the free world faster than what my caseworker’s plans were. I decided to go out the cloths room window during shower time. That night Booboo, a floater was our dorm man and it was movie night for the level 3’s so they would be off the dorm. I can’t remember Booboo’s real name, he didn’t like being called Booboo and would put some hurt on you if he caught you. While Booboo was in the bunk room shuckin and jivin under the guise of coordinating showers, I used a pillow to muffle the sound and broke the window in the clothes room. When I had as clear a jiggers as it was going to get I was out the window and gone.
I had trash bags for my feet to throw off my scent to the dogs. I started feeling pretty good about my run that it would be a success as the sound of the dogs faded. There was a full moon that night and it was getting a little chilly as the night wore on.
I began to hear sounds that sounded like a Boy Scout camp out. I saw what appeared to be a campfire with several boys dressed in blue jeans and white T shirts shooting marbles. As I got closer I thought they were on a run from another school and felt safe enough to light a fire. When I got closer and called out, they were gone, just like that.
Needless to say the run wasn’t a success and my caseworker Jenson had his usual cunt attitude about the whole thing and left me in CIC, lockup, until January. I thought the ghost stories told by those people down there were to keep us from running. They were real, I saw them. Mayberry, who used to hold Terrace dorm 5 was now working CIC. He knew all about the ghost and other weird shit like the goat man. The jeans and t-shirt style was the state issue of an earlier time. A 60’s era Gatesville. And marbles, who would have thought.
Every October when the moon is full I think about those boys, the ones who never went home. One day, God willing, their bones will be discovered and their souls can get closure.
