The Bad Place by Dean R. Koontz

maybe they did, though Thomas had never heard of them and didn’t

understand what they were, but then a lot of things he didn’t understand

were important. He knew what eyes were, of course. He knew a cue was a

stick you hit balls with because they had a pool table right there in

the wreck room, near where he and Derek were sitting, though nobody used

it much. He figured it would be a bad thing, real bad, if you stuck

yourself in the eye with a cue, but this Mary said eye cues were good

and she had a big one for a Down’s kid.

“I’m a high-end moron,” she said, real happy with herself, you could

tell.

Thomas didn’t know what a moron was, but he couldn’t see a high-end to

Mary anywhere, she was fat and mostly droopy all over.

“You’re probably a moron, too, Thomas, but you ain’t high-end like me.

I’m almost normal, and you ain’t as close to normal as me.” All this

only confused Thomas.

It confused Derek even more, you could tell, and in his thick and

sometimes hard to understand voice, Derek said, “Me? No moron.”

He shook his head.

“Cowboy.” He smiled.

“Cowboy.” Mary laughed at him.

“You ain’t no cowboy or ever going to be. What you are is you’re an

imbecile.” They had to ask her to say it a few times before they got

it, but even then they didn’t really get it. They could say it but

didn’t know what it was any more than they knew what one of these eye

cues looked like.

“You’ve got your normal people,” Mary said,

“then morons under them, then imbeciles, whore dumber than morons, and

then you got idiots, whore dumber than even imbeciles. Me, I’m a

high-end moron, and I ain’t going to be here forever, I’m going to be

good, behave, work hard to be normal, and someday go back to the halfway

house.”

“Halfway where?” Derek asked, which was what Thomas wondered too.

Mary laughed at him.

“Halfway to being normal, which is more than you’ll ever be, you poor

damn imbecile.” This time Derek realized she was looking down on him,

making fun, and he tried not to cry, but he did. He got red in the face

and cried, and Mary grinned sort of wild, she was all puffed up,

excited, like she’d won some big prize. She’d said a bad word-damn-and

should be ashamed, but she wasn’t, you could tell. She said the other

word again, which Thomas now saw was a bad word, too,

“imbecile,” and she kept saying it, until poor Derek got up and ran, and

even then she shout it after him.

Thomas went back to their room, looking for Derek, but Derek was in the

closet with the door shut, bawling. Some of the aides came, and they

talked to Derek real nice, but he didn’t want to come out of the closet.

They had to talk to him a long time to get him to come out of there, but

even then couldn’t stop him from crying, and so after a while they had

to Give him Something. Once in a while when you were sick, like with

the flu, the aides asked you to Take Something, which meant pill of one

shape or another, one color or another, big or little But when they had

to Give You Something, it always was a needle, which was a bad thing.

They never had to Give Something to Thomas because he was always good.

But sometimes Derek wasn’t nice as he was, got to feeling so bad about

himself that he couldn’t stop crying, and sometimes he hit himself, just

hit himself in the face, until he broke himself open and got blood on

himself, and even then he wouldn’t stop, so they had to give Him

Something For His Own Good. Derek never hit anyone else, he was nice,

but For His Own Good he sometimes had to be made to relax or sometimes

even made to sleep, which was what happened the day Mary the high-end

moron called him an imbecile.

After Derek was made to sleep, one of the aides sat beside Thomas at the

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