It

time the cops came Jimmy had eaten more than half of her, including her brains. ‘They made me twice as smart,’ Jimmy had confided to Henry one night after lights-out.
In the row beyond Jimmy, hoeing fanatically and singing the same line over and over, as always, was the little Frenchman Benny Beaulieu. Benny had been a firebug — a pyromaniac. Now as he hoed he sang this line from the Doors over and over: ‘Try to set the night on fire, try to set the night on fire, try to set the night on fire, try to — ‘
It got on your nerves after awhile.
Beyond Benny was Franklin D’Cruz, who had raped over fifty women before being caught with his pants down in Bangor’s Terrace Park. The ages of his victims ranged from three to eighty-one. Not very particular was Frank D’Cruz. Beyond him but way back was Arlen Weston, who spent as much time looking dreamily at his hoe as he did using it. Fogarty, Adler, and John Koontz had all tried the roll-of-quarters-in-the –fist trick on Weston to try and convince him he could move a bit faster, and one day Koontz had hit him maybe a little too hard because blood came not only from Arlen Weston’s nose but also from Arlen’s ears and that night he had a convulsion. Not a big one; just a little one. But since then Arlen had drifted further and further into his own interior blackness and now he was a hopeless case, almost totally unplugged from the world. Beyond Arlen was —
‘You want to pick it up or I’ll give you some more help, Henry!’ Fogarty bawled over, and Henry began to hoe again. He didn’t want any convulsions. He didn’t want to end up like Arlen Weston.
Soon the voices started in again. But this tune they were the voices of the others, the voices of the kids that had gotten him into this in the first place, whispering down from the ghost-moon.
You couldn’t even catch a fatboy, Bowers, one of them whispered. Now I’m rich and you’rehoeing peas. Ha-ha on you, asshole!
B-B-Bowers, you c-c-couldn’t c-catch a c-c-cold! Read a-any g-g-good b-b-books since you’ve been in th-there? I ruh-ruh-wrote lots! I’m ruh-ruh-rich andy-you’re in Juh-Juh-hooniper Hill! Ha-ha on you, you stupid asshole!
‘Shut up,’ Henry whispered to the ghost-voices, hoeing faster, beginning to hoe up the new pea– plants along with the weeds. Sweat rolled down his cheeks like tears. ‘We could’ve taken you. We could’ve.’
We got you locked up, you asshole, another voice laughed. You chased me and couldn’t catch me and I got rich, too! Way to go, banana-heels!
‘Shut up,’ Henry muttered, hoeing faster. ‘Just shut up!’
Did you want to get in my panties, Henry? another voice teased. Too bad! I let all of them do me, I was nothing but a slut, but now I’m rich too and we’re all together again, and we’re doing it again but you couldn’t do it now even if I let you because you couldn’t get it up, so ha-ha on you, Henry, ha-ha all OVER you —
He hoed madly, weeds and dirt and pea-plants flying; the ghost-voices from the ghost-moon were very loud now, echoing and flying in his head, and Fogarty was running toward him, bellowing, but Henry could not hear. Because of the voices.
Couldn’t even get hold of a nigger like me, could you? another jeering ghost-voice chimed in. We killed you guys in that rockfight! We fucking killed you!! Ha-ha, asshole! Ha-ha all over you!
Then they were all babbling together, laughin g at him, calling him banana –heels, asking him how he’d liked the shock-treatments they’d given him when he came up here to the Red Ward, asking him if he liked it here at Juh-Juh –hooniper Hill, asking and laughing, laughing and asking, and Henry dropped hi s hoe and began to scream up at the ghost-moon in the blue sky and at first he was screaming in fury,