“None, sir. I’ve never been arrested before.”

“How about the drugs? Smoke a lot of reefer, do you?”

“No, I never have.”

“Sergeant Ryan tells me you’re a musician.”

“Yes sir, I play the blues harp.”

“That a stringed instrument?”

Leo shook his head. The lieutenant’s eyes were on what he was doing, though, and he didn’t see him. “It’s a harmonica.”

The lieutenant nodded. He rolled Leo’s middle finger into the ink pad, then onto the paper. “Why are you in such a hurry to go overseas? The sergeant says you’re not particular about any specific training we have available. Why is that?” The lieutenant paused and looked up at Leo. He was probably twenty-six or -seven. Leo glanced down at his black fingertips, then up. “I’m just ready to get going, you know? That’s all.”

The lieutenant regarded him a second longer, then he finished up with Leo’s pinky finger, twisting it a little too much as he rolled the print out onto the paper. He closed the ink pad case and handed Leo a white cloth.

“Have you got a sweetheart?”

“No.”

The lieutenant smiled. He reminded Leo of Gerry, though he didn’t look anything like him.

“Are you shy with girls?”

Leo shook his head. “I almost got married this summer, but it didn’t work out.”

“I see.” The lieutenant glanced over across the room. “We’re finished here, Sergeant. Captain Bennett will see him.”

Captain Bennett was not in his office. In front of three tall windows overlooking downtown Springfield was a dark walnut desk, big as a pool table. Loose papers were scattered all over it, and Sergeant Ryan placed a clipboard in the middle of it. “Have a sitdown, Leo. I’ll wait in the hall.”

Leo sat in a straight-backed chair in front of the desk. Outside the day was bright and he almost had to squint. Above the windows hung four green banners, each holding a different yellow word. From left to right, Leo read:

COURAGE CANDOR COMMITMENT COMPETENCE

Candor was a strange word, and it made Leo think of the huge birds that swooped down on rabbits and snakes. The room smelled like floor wax. The middle window was half open and Leo could hear the cars going by, two women talking and laughing down on the sidewalk. In three weeks school would start. Long days at a desk. In the same building as Allie, the same room as Allie, the same air as Allie. He saw himself working weekends for Chick, making $2 an hour times fifteen or sixteen hours: that’d give him $30 a week; keep a twenty to blow, and that’s still $100 dollars a month. He’d have $1,000 by graduation, plenty for a ticket. Plenty.