The first-floor lobby opened up to a recreation room filled with some seventy-five boys sitting around waiting for the lunch bell to be sounded.
What caught my eye immediately was one of the bigger boys on a chair in the corner,
cradling one of the other boysfourteen or fifteen years oldcuddling him in his arms.
They all turned to look as we entered, and some of the bolder ones came over and stared at me.
"Don't mind them," he said, seeing my expression. "They won't hurt you."
The woman in charge of the floor, a large-boned, handsome woman,
with rolled up shirt sleeves and a denim apron over her starched white skirt, came up to us.
At her belt was a ring of keys that jangled as she moved,
and only when she turned did I see that the left side of her face was covered by a large, wine-colored birthmark.
"Didn't expect any company today, Ray," she said. "You usually bring your visitors on Thursdays."
"This is Mr. Gordon, Thelma, from Beekman University. He just wants to look around and get an idea of the work we're doing here.
I knew it wouldn't make any difference with you, Thelma. Any day is all right with you."
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