The Administrator Read Online Free

unusual treatment’ clause. He glared at Shelly then at me. “Why you guys comin’ down on me anyway? Hell, she was sixty-five years old. She wasn’t worth much—skin transplants and experiments—everything else she pretty much already used up. Eyes, liver, heart—nobody wants that old stuff. He stood up and strutted toward the door.
    I grabbed his arm and Shelly reached for the electron button on her belt. I pushed his wiry body back into the chair. The aroma of unwashed skin assaulted my nose.
    “Hey! Cut it out, man. That hurts. I just wanted to walk around a little. You don’t got no call to go shovin’ me around like that. Okay, okay, I’ll sit. Damn, it’s hot in here. Do ya’ have to have all them lights shinin’ right in my eyes?”
    I stared into his cold eyes. “How did your grandmother die? Did you kill her?”  
    “What? No, I didn’t kill her. Just gave her the pills she asked me for. That’s all.”
    “How many pills?”
    “I don’t know—ten, fifteen, maybe—I don’t know.”  
    “Where did you get the pills?”
    He looked at the Juvie Counselor. “Hey, man, you got a cigarette? No? You got any Happydaze? No, I guess not.” He slumped back into the chair. “Can I go now? Look, I’m only sixteen. You can’t treat me like this. The law says I’m a juvenile. You can’t pin grown-up crimes on me, no matter what I do.”
    “Where are your parents?”
    “Ain’t got no parents. My father ran away when I was just a baby. Mama’s dead. Look, I wanna see a lawyer. I know my rights. You ain’t gonna railroad me. I got rights.”
    “The Juvenile Counselor here is your lawyer. Now, what happened to your mother?”
    “You cops are all alike. Always picking on us poor folk. We’re just trying to get along, that’s all. You come in with your big badges and big guns and think we all gonna run and hide like rats run from the light. Well, it ain’t so with me, man. I ain’t afraid of you or anybody else.”
    The Juvie Counselor placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Just answer the question, Son.”
    “I ain’t your son, you jerk. Get your paws off of me.” He pushed the man’s hand off like he was brushing a fly. “I done told you all of it. What more you want? Mama’s dead. She’s dead.
    “How did she die?” I asked.
    “I don’t know, man. I just woke up one morning, and there she was. All stiff and white on the floor. All the blood drained right outa’ her skull. Made a hell of a mess. Granny scrubbed that floor for a week and never did get it all out. It didn’t matter though. They kicked us out when Mama died. We didn’t have no more money to pay the rent. Been livin’ on the street since then.”
    “Where is she buried?”
    Ratface glared at me, then shrugged his shoulders. “Couldn’t afford to bury her. Sold her. She didn’t bring much either. Not much left they could use.”
    “Did you call the police?”
    “I think Granny did. Two cops just like you two dumbos.” He nodded his greasy hair at Shelly and me and frowned. “Came and asked some questions. Then they left, and we never heard nothin’ else.”
    Shelly moved to stand beside his chair. I strolled over to lean against the door. It was her show now. The counselor started to intervene, caught my glare and stepped back. “Who did it, kid? Who killed your mother? Did you do it?” she asked.
    “How the hell do I know who did it? I ain’t no psychic.” He pushed against the back of the chair pulling as far away from Shelly as he could. He glanced at me, then at the other three people in the room. He stared at the peeling paint on the concrete floor beneath the chair. Sweat ran down his temples leaving smudges on his unwashed face. He mumbled, “Why would I do that to my own Mama?”
    “Happydaze, maybe?”
    “You friggin’ liar! It wasn’t me!” He lunged for her, slamming his knee on the aluminum table leg. The table upended, crashing against the wall with a dull thud. Shelly dodged