MASON EALY

Mason Ealy went after the courthouse flicker with a screwdriver and no particular way of reaching it. Fifteen years old. Bless his heart, at that age a ladder feels like most of a plan.

Chuck Ledbetter lit the courthouse star at 10:25 using a bucket truck he wasn't supposed to have. Grounded wrong, Manny Ortega said from the cell. At 12:40 a.m. Mason figured he might could fix it.

Fetched a ladder from the Rexall's alley. Got about a third of the way up the courthouse. What was he aiming to do at the top? Hadn't worked that part out. He admitted to "a screwdriver and a feeling."

Gus Halloran, still on the steps under the star in his orange, watched him climb.

"Son, you ain't gonna reach it."

"I know."

"Then what are you doing?"

"Trying."

Gus said okay and watched. Can't hardly fault the trying, though somebody ought to check the ladder.

Deputy Stotts came back from the bell tower with Toby Rasmussen and found a fifteen-year-old up against the courthouse and an escaped prisoner spotting him. She stopped. Stood there a spell. Then walked over and held the ladder herself while Mason came down. No sense scaring the boy into falling.

He's leaning right in the Polaroid, mouth open a little in a smile, blue tee with cursive on it. Curfew. Gus went back in with him. The star still flickers. It's kind of nice. Nobody says so.