He had a tattoo of a rattlesnake on his arm, and as he signed his name, the snake’s rattle seemed to wiggle.
“I used to smoke a pack a day. Now I eat a sack of these every week.” The guard laughed.
There must have been a small refrigerator behind his desk, because the man in the cowboy hat produced two more cans of soda.
For a second Stanley hoped that one might be for him, but the man gave one to the guard and said the other was for the driver.
“Nine hours here, and now nine hours back,” the guard grumbled. “What a day.”
Stanley thought about the long, miserable bus ride and felt a little sorry for the guard and the bus driver.
The man in the cowboy hat spit sunflower seed shells into a wastepaper basket. Then he walked around the desk to Stanley.
“My name is Mr. Sir,” he said. “Whenever you speak to me you must call me by my name, is that clear?”
Stanley hesitated. “Uh, yes, Mr. Sir,” he said, though he couldn’t imagine that was really the man’s name.
“You’re not in the Girl Scouts anymore,” Mr. Sir said.
Stanley had to remove his clothes in front of Mr. Sir, who made sure he wasn’t hiding anything.
He was then given two sets of clothes and a towel. Each set consisted of a long-sleeve orange jumpsuit, an orange T-shirt, and yellow socks.
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