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Chapter 8

           IcomeoutofthedormintothehalljustasMcMurphycomesoutofthelatrine.He’sgothiscaponandnotmuchelse,justatowelgrabbedaroundhiships.He’sholdingatoothbrushinhisotherhand.Hestandsinthehall,lookingupanddown,rockinguponhistoestokeepoffthecoldtileasmuchashecan.Pickshimoutablackboy,theleastone,andwalksuptohimandwhapshimontheshoulderjustlikethey’dbeenfriendsalltheirlives.

           "Heythere,oldbuddy,what’smychanceofgettin’sometoothpasteforbrushin’mygrinders?"

           Theblackboy’sdwarfheadswivelsandcomesnosetoknucklewiththathand.Hefrownsatit,thentakesaquickcheckwhere’stheothertwoblackboysjustincase,andtellsMcMurphytheydon’topenthecabinettillsix-forty-five."It’sapolicy,"hesays.

           "Isthatright?Imean,isthatwheretheykeepthetoothpaste?Inthecabinet?"

           "Tha’sright,lockedinthecabinet."

           Theblackboytriestogobacktopolishingthebaseboards,butthathandisstillloppedoverhisshoulderlikeabigredclamp.

           "Lockedinthecabinet,isit?Wellwellwell,nowwhydoyoureckontheykeepthetoothpastelockedup?Imean,itain’tlikeit’sdangerous,isit?Youcan’tpoisonamanwithit,canyou?Youcouldn’tbrainsomeguywiththetube,couldyou?Whatreasonyousupposetheyhaveforputtin’somethingasharmlessasalittletubeoftoothpasteunderlockandkey?"

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