Dear readers: Sorry this chapter's late. I think we should make a Holes-wiki because I searched and searched on the net for Alan's last name and I couldn't find it anywhere! Thanks seddie-sparrow for the review and the info. Smith, I remember that now. Does anybody know Ricky's? It would be handy for the next chapter. Thanks also to SariShino for their review. Ok, so here's chapter four.
Chapter Four: On the Road
"Don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart, I just don't think it will understand, and if you tell my heart, my achy breaky heart, he just might blow up and kill this man…"
If fingernails on a black board was set to music, Alan thought, it would be a lot easier on the ears than Billy Ray Cyrus. The driver Joe had gone through with this threat and now there was no hope. Endless plains of brown dirt stretched out on either side of the bus. Dust devils danced and twisted in its wake. Alan watched them intently, all the time aware of the other kid's gaze boring a hole in his neck. He'd been staring at Alan for almost two hours. It made the hair all down his spine stand up. He wanted to turn around and tell the boy to buzz off, but he knew crazy people were like dogs, it's not smart to look one in the eye.
Especially since the kid wasn't in a straightjacket any more. The cops figured if he could break out of it, it wasn't doing much good, so they'd settled on two sets of handcuffs. One secured his hands normally, and the other anchored him to the window frame by his seat in the back of the bus. He still had the leg cuffs on, which was a small comfort.
Alan wondered again who this kid could be. He'd heard one of the cops call him Ricky. The only Ricky Alan knew was Ricky Ricardo. This boy would definitely not be singing Babaloo. This Ricky preferred breaking out of straightjackets instead of playing the conga drum… He'd broken out of a straightjacket! Alan still couldn't believe it. Maybe the kid was a descendant of Houdini's…
Anyway he was a nut job. He'd broken out of a straightjacket! Right there in the middle of all those cops. He even bit one of them hard enough to break the skin before they tasered him down.
Alan shuddered.
"You cold?" A voice came from the back of the bus.
Carefully, Alan turned towards the crazy kid. He caught sight of Grumpy sitting tensed next to the driver, before he locked eyes with the nut. Ricky had his head tilted, and there was no emotion on his face.
Alan swallowed a wad of spit to moisten his throat. "I ain't cold."
"How come you shivered then?"
"A big drop of sweat just dripped down my back, it tickled is all." He wiped the back of his neck with his cuffed hands.
"Quiet back there!" Grumpy ordered.
Ricky rolled his eyes and smirked suddenly. "Whatever you say Warden," He turned to look out the window, still grinning.
Alan added sever mood swings to the list of Ricky's oddities, but he was happy the staring had stopped. He could think straight now. Lots of things weren't making sense. They were meant to be going to some place called Camp Green Lake, which meant it should be getting cooler. Instead it was getting real hot real fast. The bus didn't have air conditioning either. The driver seemed to think that rolling down his window made up for it. All the windows around Alan were stuck, and he felt like he was in a microwave. Parts of him were sweating that he never thought could, huge beads of sweat were rolling down his back, and the backs of his legs were melting into the fake leather seats. Alan wished he hadn't worn cut offs.
"Well here we are," Joe the driver called over his blaring stereo, "say hello to your new home boys."
Alan looked at the window. There was no lake in sight, just brown dirt. There were a lot of holes, a lot a lot of holes. There were so many, they looked like the black heads on Beth Gilligar from home room's nose. The bus dove up into what looked like an old western movie set. Ancient buildings with false fronts lined the road. There were wooden gang plank sidewalks, and Alan even caught sight of saloon doors on one of the buildings. That wasn't the worse part either. Orange jumpsuits were everywhere. And they had had kids in them.
They all grinned and jeered as the bus passed. "Whoa, new blood!" someone shouted.
Oh God. The bus stopped next to one of the buildings and Joe popped the door open. "Last stop, so get the heck off of my bus."
Grumpy got up, and unlocked Alan's hand cuffs. "Don't get any smart ideas, and don't move before I tell you to," he warned, continuing on to Ricky.
Exhaling, Alan threw his head against the seat. He'd be spending two years in this place, and he got the feeling that they were going to be the two longest years of his life.
Once Ricky was released, Grumpy lead them off the bus. Alan squinted against the sun and tried to ignore all the stares directed their way. Ricky sucked in a big lungful of the dusty air and grinned. "I think I'm going to like it here."
Grumpy barked with laughter. "We'll see kid," he muttered, "we'll see. Come on, in here."
He opened up a screen door and beckoned the boys inside.
"Guess this is it," Alan grunted under his breath as he walked into the room.
"Yap, say good bye to the wife and tater tots," Quoted the crazy boy while pulling the door shut behind them.