Crowam 281 (6 page)

“Are you a Yank?” Tom got very close to me.

“Brooklyn, New York,” I said.

“Well boys, look at what we have here. A bloody yank.”

“You gotta problem with Yanks?”

“My sister married a Yank during the war. Promised her he would take care of her. When the war ended, he took off with everything she had. She had to prostitute herself just to feed me when I was a wee boy. Now she’s in a mental hospital.”

Sometimes you come across someone who just doesn’t like you. They may have their reasons, even if they don’t make any sense. Looking back at Tom, he was like a hand of playing cards. A wild card that, at the flip of a switch, could give you a very bad day. “I’m sorry about your sister. I really am. But what’s it got to do with me?”

“All you Yanks are the same. You’re a bunch of good for nothings. And I’m going to tear your bloody head off.” Tom got too close for comfort. I was drowning in his massive chest as he hovered over me. I thought about how I could take on a kid this size. Maybe I would hit him in the groin and run for it. I thought about grabbing one of them vodka bottles and smashing it over his head. I couldn’t take this kid head on. Too big, too strong. Sometimes you have to know when to cut your losses. When to pick and choose your battles.

“Now, now, easy there, Tom. Here, another glass of vodka. That should cheer you up,” Felix said, patting him on the back like a father would his son.

He grunted and took another swig of vodka.

“Alright, don’t just stand there. Let’s clean this mess up and go for another round,” Felix said.

The boys scrambled to pick up the playing cards scattered around the floor for another game.

“He’s really a gentle soul once you get to know him,” Felix said.

“You call that gentle!” Owen waved his empty glass at Felix.

“He’s been through a lot. All of us have. Some of us just have our own way of dealing with our problems. Take me for example.” He poured himself another glass of vodka. “I’m going to check on the rest of my guests. Cheerio boys.”

Thomas helped himself to another glass of vodka. A few minutes earlier he nearly choked on the stuff. Now he wanted seconds. I snagged it away from him. “What are you doing?” Thomas asked.

“I’m not letting you waste damn good vodka, Thomas.”

“I won’t waste it. Promise.”

“Sure, sure.” I went to quench my thirst when I felt a tug on my pants. I looked down to find this little boy with dirty blond hair and brown eyes looking up at me with a dimply smile, pointing at my drink. “What do you want?”

“Can I have some?”

“What, of this?”

He smiled again, nodding his head.

“What are you, five?” I asked.

“Six.” His smile widened.

“You’re a little young, aren’t you?”

He shrugged his shoulders with indifference.

“Well you can’t have any.”

His lips started to quiver, like he was ready to bawl his eyes out.

“Oh would you quit it. You’re too little to have this.”

“I’m not little.”

“Sure you are. Besides, there ain’t nothing wrong with being little.”

He pouted and crossed his arms. Boy he was acting like a brat. For the life of me, I was clueless as to how a boy his age got in a place like this. He seemed out of place, as most of the boys here were well past puberty. “Come on kid, scram, go play with your toys or something.” Petey punched me in the knee and ran off. “Little brat,” I said.

“What’s that little boy doing here?” Owen asked.

“The hell do I know.”

Suddenly, Felix got up on one of the chairs, staring directly at the ceiling, fixated on what was occurring above. “Everybody quiet.” The basement full of boisterous boys fell silent, watching the ceiling.

“I hear footsteps,” Jack whispered.

“Blow out the candles,” Felix said. The boys scurried like cockroaches, blowing out all the candles throughout the basement. The room dimmed with every blow, until it succumbed to darkness.
Pit, pat, pit pat
. The footsteps right above us. I could hear the boys breathing heavier with every step stamped above us.

“Could it be one of the guards?” Charles asked.

“No, it’s the tooth fairy. Who the hell do you think it is?” I said.

“Good God, they know we’re here,” Charles said.

“Who the tooth fairy?” Owen said.

“What’s wrong with you people,” I said.

“Quiet. They know we’re here and we’re all going to get into trouble,” Charles said.

“Charles, would you knock it off.” I said.

“They’ll find us, I’ll tell you,” Charles said.

“Quiet will you. You’re making a ruckus,” Owen said.

“Shut that fat boy up,” Tom said.

“I’m not fat!”

Before Charles uttered another word, I grabbed him and pressed the palm of my hand over his mouth. “You’re making a damn scene. Quiet!” As he breathed through his nose, snot began spewing out of it into my hand. “Damn it, Charles.”

“
Umm
strrwwy,
” he mumbled under his breath. The footsteps above us faded away like a ghost into the night.

Felix got on the chair again, placing his hand on the ceiling, looking for vibration. “They’re gone.” The room sighed in relief. “Well, gents, I think that’s a bit too much excitement for one evening. Let us retire for the night.”

I let go of Charles, wiping his nostrils on his shirt.

“Hey!”

“They’re your boogers.”

One by one, we snuck back upstairs, back into our dormitories. Thomas fell asleep. It was early morning and I couldn’t go back to sleep.
A Tale of Two Cities
sat at the edge of the bed. I picked it up and began reading the first chapter. “It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.”

The door whisked opened. The professor, a tall gray-haired man entered the room with an efficient saunter to his step, knowing exactly where to place his briefcase and other belongings on his desk. He took his time settling in, ignoring us, as if we weren’t even there. He took a packet of booklets with a pencil taped to each book out from his briefcase, placing them on each one of our desks. “Good morning, gentlemen. My name is Professor Vanden. What I am passing to each one of you is a proficiency exam. You have one hour to complete the exam.”

“What’s a proficiency exam?” Tom asked.

“Quiet,” Mr. Vanden yelled. “You will not speak unless you are spoken to. That goes for the rest of you, too. You will do exactly as I say. If you have a question, you will raise your hand and, if I deem fit, I will answer your question. I will not tolerate any misbehavior. Rest assured of that. Is that understood?”

“Yes sir,” the class said in unison.

Professor Vanden sure was something, a by-the-books kind of guy. A cold son of a bitch, just like everyone else who ran this place. At least at the other orphanages, they pretended to give a shit. Here, we’re hoarded like cattle, like we’re nothing but an inconvenience. Shit, none of us wanted to be here. We didn’t have a choice. A boy opened his test booklet, ripping the seal with his pencil. Professor Vanden grabbed a ruler from his pocket and smacked the boy in the hand. “What did I say?”

“I just…”

“Just what young man?”

“What do you mean?”

“You answer a question with another question?

“No sir.”

“What do you mean, no sir? Did you not ask me a question, ‘what do you mean?’”

“I don’t understand, sir.”

“Stop asking me questions young man. I am the only one who asks the questions here. I do. You are here to listen and do as you are told!”

“Hey, why don’t you lighten up?” I said.

The classroom turned their eyes to me. Professor Vanden was not pleased. The expression on his face was priceless. His face was turning red like a tomato. You could see the anger boiling inside of him. “What did you say?”

“I said lighten up. He didn’t do anything.”

“What is your name?”

“I’m the only one that asks questions here,” I said sarcastically.

The class erupted in laughter except for our “wonderful professor,” who went back to his desk and took out a small wooden paddling board from the desk drawer, slamming the desk drawer as he closed it. He smacked the paddleboard on the desk making a loud banging sound tell class succumbed to silence. The sound that board made sure was loud. The smack rang in my ears. “Silence!” Professor Vanden looked at me with shock and disdain. I wasn’t making a good impression during the first day of class.

“I said what is your name?

“Hudson.”

“You’re full name!”

“Jake Hudson.”

“Mr. Hudson. What a pleasure it is to have you in my classroom. Gentlemen, it seems we have a rebel in our midst. How fortunate and blessed we are to have the likes of Mr. Hudson in our class, so that I may teach my first lesson, on the importance of obedience. Mr. Hudson, do you know what obedience is?”

I shrugged my shoulders. I didn’t give a shit about his question.

“Oh you don’t know? Get up to the front of the class please.”

“No,” I replied.

Professor Vanden motioned his finger at the door. Two guards came into the room. They picked me up off the chair. “Hey get off me!” I yelled. The grip the guards had on me was strong, firm and unrelenting, making sure the lesson of obedience was well taught. They leaned me over on the desk, stretching out my hands on the desk. I tried to break free, but I just couldn’t. Damn those guards were strong.

Vanden grabbed the paddle. “Mr. Hudson, here is your first lesson in obedience.”

I knew what was coming. The pain was sharp at first. My right hand became red and purple with each smack of the paddle. I held in my tears, wanting to show that I could take it.

“Do you know what obedience is, Mr. Hudson?”

I didn’t respond. I just looked at the prick.
Smack
! My right hand throbbing with pain. It was hard to take. I became nauseous. I thought I was going to faint right then and there.

“Do you know what obedience is!” He raised the paddle about to smack it down. I nodded my head. “Is that a yes, Mr. Hudson?”

“Yes,” I said reluctantly. Vanden nodded at the guards, before they escorted me back to my desk. “You’re an exemplary student Mr. Hudson. You learned your first lesson today.”

I rubbed my right hand, hoping to regain some sensation in it.

“Now gentlemen, open your test books and begin the exam. You have one hour,” Vanden said, looking at his watch.

I wasn’t sure how the hell I was going to take the exam. My right hand was swollen. I could barely grip the pencil. I opened the exam. The questions were as bland the paper it was written on. I mean, who gives a shit about when X train leaves station B at 1:00pm going 45 mph, while the Y train leaves the station at 50, which train will arrive at station C first? I just filled in whatever bullshit I could think of. The hour was up and so was my first lesson on “obedience.”

The following day was the same routine of boring classes and meals which made it difficult to avoid the life of a monotonous robot that gave into the set standards that comprised the everyday spiel behind the walls of Crowam. My hand was still a bit sore from Professor Vanden’s lesson. I kept rubbing my hand, squeezing my fist, getting some blood flowing through. During lunch, I saw the boy who was challenged by the Bus Driver. He sat by himself, with bandages and bruises around his face and arms. He looked like the world fell upon him, spiritless and lost.

Eventually some of the other boys joined him. I thought about going there myself. What was I going to say?
Hey nice going. I thought you had him there?
I would have looked like an idiot. Me, trying to lighten up the poor kid. The best part of the day was recess. The air outside the courtyard was fresh and clean, unlike the air inside Crowam, which was stale and foul, like in one of them libraries that are older than the books they house.

“Hello, old boy.” A hand patted me on the back.

It startled me a bit. “Damn it, don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” Felix said.

“It’s alright.”

“That was some spectacle in Professor Vanden’s class.”

“Oh, you heard about that?”

“Word gets around pretty quickly here. How’s your hand?”

“It’s ok. I’ll live.”

“That’s good. Very good. But while I’m here, allow me to take the opportunity to give you some advice. Don’t push around here, Jake. You see, this isn’t your ordinary orphanage. This is different. I don’t know what you’ve done in the past, but you can’t get away with it here, that’s for sure. My advice to you is to keep your head down and your mouth shut.”

“And what, let these sons of bitches get the best of us? Treat us like we’re dirt?”

“I don’t like the circumstances any more than you do. But the trick is that what they can’t take away is what’s in here and here.” He pointed at his heart and forehead. “This place Jake, it is like a sleeping giant. If you’re smart, you’ll sneak past it without it even noticing you. But if you awaken it?”

“Tell me about your escape plan.”

“Plan? Well I suppose you can call it a plan.”

“You mentioned another boy tried escaping before?”

“Yes. About a year ago I believe. His name was Joshua. Splendid chap. He told us all about his plan to escape. I thought the lad was joking. He actually went through with it.”

“Did he escape?”

“No. Not quite sure what they did with him, though. As punishment, they tormented us. Random beatings by the guards. Verbal harassment. They picked boys at random, never to be seen again. We called it ‘the purge.’ ”

“How long did the purge last?” I asked.

“Several months, I believe. Those were not the best of times here. My desire to escape was escalated by these events, but I had to always consider the risks for myself and those held here. I suppose it has crossed your mind already.”