Authors: Neal Davies
I spent the Christmas break helping out around the farm but my mind wasn't on the job. I had become totally absorbed in the thought of what it was going to be like at Benworden and the calendar in our kitchen was becoming a mess from the big red crosses put through it as I counted down the days.
2
N
EW
B
EGINNINGS
The big day finally arrived, and it was a requirement at Benworden that students come to the boarding house a couple of days before the start of school. That kilometre drive up the cobblestone road is still vivid in my memory.
I was in one of those moods that don't make any sense at all. Everything felt surreal, like when you're caught between feeling anxious and yet are in a dream-like state. I hypnotically stared out the window at the meticulously trimmed conifers that lined the road. The beautifully mowed grass field between them looked like carpet awaiting the arrival of furniture. As we approached the old double storey, red brick building with its white French windows, we saw a small black sign with white old-fashioned writing and an arrow which pointed to the right and read “Visitors' Car Park”.
Once we'd parked the car it was a short walk to the main entrance of the building. Out the front of it was a large circular garden that the cobblestone road horse-shoed around so that when parents were bringing their kids back after holidays they could pull up out the front of the main doors and drop their luggage off and then easily circle back to park their cars in the visitors parking area. The garden consisted of endless varieties of azaleas and colours as vibrant as an illuminated Matisse. With the sun sitting high in the sky and the carpet green lawns, the building stood out like a majestic mountain overlooking the valley below.
I was mesmerised by the blueness of the sky that day and on arrival at the entrance my nervousness dissipated as I became engulfed by the warmth and beauty, the same way you would when sitting by an open fire on a cold night while watching the flickering flames.
As I entered through the large oak doors I couldn't believe the enormity of the building. I followed my mother and father who were greeted by the head of boarding, Richard Ervine, in the foyer, and he was accompanied by the two boarding house supervisors Cyril Cranberry and Donna Fresnel. Mr Ervine introduced himself and the supervisors and told my parents how he had worked as the head of boarding for 30 years. My mother asked him if he had children of his own and he said he had two daughters who had grown and had families of their own.
Mr Cranberry and Miss Fresnel rarely spoke and when they did Mr Ervine would talk over the top of them as though they were a threat to his very existence. It was plain to see that Mr Ervine was very possessive when it came to his role at the boarding house and anyone even seeming to challenge him, whether it was deliberate or not, would soon be put in their place.
While they continued talking I began taking in the surrounds and soon their voices faded in and out of my head as I was hypnotised by the magnificent timber staircase and the old oil paintings that graced the towering walls.
My attention was quickly brought back to their conversation when I heard my mother mention discipline to Mr Ervine. He replied, “The headmaster of the school and I will clearly explain the rules to the students both at the school and here at the boarding house. There is also a set of these rules on the wall
of every student's room. We then explain to the students that if they should decide to break these rules it may mean instant expulsion, depending on the severity of the offence, and in the event of any such misdemeanour parents will be informed immediately.
“As you know, Mrs James, it is clearly stated in your contract with us that should any of our boarders be expelled, the parent will forfeit the money for the year in advance that they've paid, plus the entry fee that is normally refunded on the day the student graduates or leaves due to unforseen circumstances.
“What we have found in the past is that parents won't risk bringing their sons or daughters to our boarding house if they are badly behaved, and if a young person does become a boarder here and does misbehave, they are normally sorted out once the parent is called in. What we want from our students is responsibility and self-reliance and although we have supervisors here at the boarding house, we encourage them not to interfere unless absolutely necessary.”
On hearing this I could see that mum was impressed because she knew I was very self-reliant and that I would fit in well at Benworden. Their voices began to fade out again as my mind became engulfed by the ancient building once more. It reminded me of one of those old mansions that you see in the Hollywood movies, only bigger, and yet it felt warm and welcoming.
Boarders were coming in and out and the older kids who were chatting amongst themselves about the previous year were constantly smiling as though they were pleased to be back after their Christmas break. Their banter reassured me that everything was ok. There were rooms everywhere and down the far passage on the left of the foyer were the girls'
quarters which we were told were shut off in the evening by another set of large oak doors.
Mum, always the worrier, asked the head of boarding what would happen in the event of a fire and he explained that there were emergency exits all over the building plus they had fire drills once a month.
Mr Ervine asked a year 12 boy by the name of Josh Halls to take my bags and show me to my room and together we headed up the huge spiral staircase to the boys' quarters. He was a stocky fellow with pitch-black hair, but what caught my eye most of all was the unusual ring he was wearing. It was gold and had a square surface with what looked to be an ant embossed in black stone beneath a white crossed pick and shovel.
On our way there he looked me up and down and said, “Tell me a bit about yourself, Dylan.”
I replied, “Well, I come from a farming family.”
And before I had barely started he cut me off by saying, “No, no, we already have all that information. Your dad runs a dairy and goat farm, makes cheese and all that. Tell me about you.”
I looked at him inquisitively and said, “How do you know all that?”
At that point I was feeling fairly violated and a little bit angry and it must have come across in the tone of my voice as Josh was quick to relieve the tension by saying, “Woo, steady on. It's ok, mate. We know a lot of things about a lot of people and that'll all be revealed to you in good time, but for now just trust me. You're with friends. Ok?”
There was something calming about his voice and I felt at
ease and almost like I had known him for years rather than a few short minutes, so I replied, “Ok, so what do you want to know?”
He looked at me and smiled and said, “Just a couple of things. What do you feel about loyalty and keeping secrets?”
I thought at first that this was some sort of joke but it was easy to see by the serious look on his face it wasn't. Not that it mattered anyway as he had ignited my curiosity and I replied, “That's a strange question coming from someone I barely know but if you're serious and you want an honest answer here it is: honesty and loyalty are everything to me. I've never really had a close connection with anyone outside of my immediate family and I'm hoping to find that here. If I find friends that are loyal and honest to me, they can expect the same in return. Does that answer your question?”
We had reached my room by now and he walked in, put my luggage in a corner then walked over and shut the door behind us and said, “That's exactly what we needed to hear. Now listen. We have a meeting tonight and I'd like you to attend. My room is at the very end of the corridor. Be there by 9.30 â no later.” Then he headed towards the door.
I stood there totally stunned by what had just occurred and said, “Who's we? What meeting? What are you talking about?”
He looked back over his shoulder after opening the door and replied, “All in good time. See you at 9.30.”
Josh closed the door behind him and left me wondering what the heck had just happened.
Meanwhile, Mum and Dad had completed their business with the head of boarding and had made their way up to my room. Mum looked around and said, “Wow! All this to
yourself! I can't believe it!” She opened the door opposite my bed and her head disappeared into the adjacent room. I could barely hear her voice when she murmured, “They said it had a bathroom but I never imagined it to be this big. Incredible!”
Next thing I knew the rest of her body disappeared in there. Dad walked over to the bed where I was now sitting and placed his hand on my shoulder and said, “It's going to be ok, mate. It just takes adjusting to, that's all.”
I think he felt I was a bit reluctant to stay but I wasn't feeling that at all. I was still thinking about Josh and this meeting I was supposed to attend. So I tried to put Dad's mind at ease by saying, “It's all good Dad â just getting my head around it that's all. But I'm still keen to give it a go.”
I could see he was proud by the look on his face and he replied, “Good on you, son. You remind me of myself when I was your age.”
“Really?” I replied, smiling.
Dad looked at me and grinned, “Don't be stupid. You're nothing like me. I only said that to make you feel better, that's all.”
We both started laughing and Mum came out of the bathroom, “What did I miss?”
Dad winked at me and said, “What's worse is that you're more like your mother.”
And we both started laughing harder. Mum stood there half smiling, half wondering what we were carrying on about and said, “What?”
Dad replied, “Nothing of any importance darling, but I think it's time we headed off and left this young man to do his
thing.”
I could see Mum was apprehensive and looking for any excuse she could to stay longer even though there wasn't any reason to. I think it was more about letting go and it was much harder for her than it was for me.
“Look, I haven't even helped him unpack yet,” and she began to undo the latches on my suitcase.
I stood up and grabbed her on the shoulders, “Mum, it's ok. I can do that. You go home now. It's all good.”
She looked up at me with sad eyes and gave me a hug. “Now listen, you ring me if you need anything, anything at all. Promise me?”
“Yes Mum, I promise. Now just go and don't worry. I'll be ok.”
Mum and Dad eventually headed off and I spent the afternoon unpacking and arranging the room the way I liked it. Once I completed everything I needed to do, I took a shower and headed downstairs to dinner â a very formal affair with white table cloths, silver service and a prayer prior to the meal.
Before dinner Mr Ervine discussed the news of the school's future plans and then introduced me and the other new boarders to the rest of the students. After dinner I had a choice of things to do and it was difficult to know where to start.
In the opposite direction to the girls' dorms there was the kitchen and dining area and then more rooms further down the hall. The first one I came across was the leisure room where boarders could play table tennis, pool or snooker on full size tables. We weren't allowed to wear shoes in the room as it had the most beautifully polished floorboards which came in handy when sliding for that posey ping-pong shot. They even
had the old rectangular lights hanging from chains over the top of the pool table as well as a cue rack, and a brass scorer on the wall. For those who were waiting for a game or just spectators, there were long benches with black tacks holding down the leather cushions lining the timber-panelled walls. Further up the corridor were two separate rooms with full-screen TVs to prevent arguments over who watches what. The rooms were sound-proofed and had cinema-type seating in both, and at the rear of one of the rooms stood a bookcase with over one thousand DVDs in it. These two rooms were constantly monitored by the supervisors in case boarders misbehaved, although I was told by a boarder that it was rare for any negative major event to occur.
Opposite the second TV room was the boarding house library; it had deep red leather chairs which were found in quite a few of the other rooms throughout the building, and wall to wall bookcases which were filled with every book you could think of. The study room next door was divided by a glass partition. One side was filled with long white tables and black swivel chairs where students could write and ask questions of teachers who were there to help them of an evening, and on the other side of the partition was a computer room holding 20 computers with limited access outside of the school intranet.
I walked around chatting to boarders for a while and I was really settling in to a game of pool in the leisure room with a fellow named Doug when I noticed an old clock on the wall. I put the cue on the table and said, “Sorry Doug, there's something I forgot to do.”
Doug said, “No worries, mate. I'll give you another game tomorrow.”