Our Eternal Curse I (24 page)

Robert understood nothing of his
need to fit into polite society and he wept as his Nanny dressed him for school
the next morning.  He could not believe that he was being sent back to the very
place that caused him so much pain and he pleaded in between heart-wrenching
sobs.

“
I am so sorry my little darling.”  Miss Parks
fussed around, trying to look strong for him.

Robert thought about running
away from home to prevent the inevitable, but the prospect of surviving alone
away from Pishiobury Park terrified him even more than going to school.  As he
boarded the coach he felt betrayed by his mother and father who stood at the
bottom of the steps waving his departure.

Looking from the carriage window
Robert felt like his unfortunate Aunty Prudence being paraded through Paris
before her execution.  Upon their arrival at Spellbrook, Miss Parks projected a
very cold aura towards Miss Wagstaff and the ever-sensitive boy picked up on
her hostility immediately.  Robert had lived his life through his Nanny for so
long that her antagonism towards the Head Mistress guided his perception of the
naturally kind woman.  This unfortunate and mistaken introduction would linger
with Robert causing a rift between them which would hamper Miss Wagstaff’s many
efforts to help him.  The kind school teacher who was endowed with a lifetime
of teaching experience was determined to build his character but sadly her
plans came to nothing because Robert would never let her in.

As he walked away from his
beloved Nanny holding the hand of the woman he had decided to hate Robert felt
the feelings of his first day at school returning.  After a short stroll and a
few supportive words, Miss Wagstaff opened the door of the tiny classroom and
entered with Robert.  Every child immediately stopped what they were doing to
look at the strange boy who had departed so dramatically just half way through
their English lesson two days before.

Looking at his shoes as though
they held meaning Robert lacked the courage to lift his head.  He felt terribly
self conscious and believed that the children were all staring at him in a
critical manner.  He did not know why he thought that; he did not even think to
ask himself why he felt that way; he just knew somewhere deep within himself
that he was unworthy.

“
Please excuse my interruption, Mrs Putnham, but
young Robert here is returning to your class.”  With that Miss Wagstaff turned
to face the children and said in a caring voice, “Now children, Robert is a
little sensitive and I would like you all to be especially friendly to him.”

Mrs Doris Putnham looked at
Robert with feigned concern.  She had been a teacher at Spellbrook Preparatory
School all of her working life and she felt both cheated and angry.  Forty
years of being passed over for promotion to Head Mistress while doing a job she
despised took a terrible toll on her psyche.  Hundreds of children had passed
through her class during that time and all could attest to her unhappiness. 
Their humiliation had become her only pleasure in life.  Growing even angrier
than usual Mrs Putnham knew the boy standing in the doorway was going to disrupt
her pathetic, yet organized, existence.  Smiling insincerely for the benefit of
the Head Mistress she said, “Welcome back Robert.”  Then, turning to the class
she added, “Everyone say good morning to Robert.”

Without exception the children
gave a parade ground response, “Good morning Robert.”

Out of the corner of his eye
Robert noticed that Mrs Putnham was now looking directly at him and she didn’t
appear to be especially welcoming.  She looked exactly like a woman who had her
class interrupted twice in as many days and Robert’s heart sank because he was
the culprit.

After Miss Wagstaff let go of
his hand Robert walked slowly to the back of the classroom with his head
sagging sadly down.  To make sure he did not have to look into the eyes of the
other children he followed the line of the well-worn floorboards.  When he came
to the desk that he recognized by the aged carvings covering its lid, he turned
and sat in the wooden chair allocated to him.

As with his first day, and the
morning of his second, Robert stared at the chipped, white porcelain inkwell
set in the top right-hand corner of the extremely old, oak desk.  Just as then,
his fertile imagination created animals and insects within the dark stain where
its contents had leached into the grain.  He also recreated the wild life at
Pishiobury Park within the carved initials on the extremely dark, hardwood top
and he found that becoming lost with these creatures made the classroom vaguely
bearable.

At no stage during the course of
that day did Robert look up for fear of provoking Mrs Putnham.  His tension
levels reached frenzy as the angry lady questioned students near his desk then
subsided as she moved her vindictive attention to other parts of the
classroom.  Robert’s anxiety was also heightened by some of the children’s
inability to answer her questions correctly.  Whenever an answer was wrong the
offending child would be openly vilified or struck on the hand with a ruler and
Robert did not possess the mental capacity to survive either of these earth-shattering
forms of humiliation.  In order to block out the appalling fear of this
suspense-filled torture Robert ran through the woods with Louis and Marie.  His
mental escape was so effective that by the end of that day all aspects of the
classroom had been blocked from his senses.  So it was almost like waking when
Mrs Putnham’s words brought him back to the reality of finding her standing in
front of his desk.

Looking down from a great height
she was clearly very unhappy as she snarled, “I am talking to you, you rude
little boy!”

A freezing sensation passed
through Robert’s veins as he realized Mrs Putnham was waiting for the answer to
an un-heard question.

“
Well what is your answer?  Were you paying any
attention, boy?”

Too afraid to admit his lack of
attention, Robert groped for an answer to pacify the angry woman and the reply
he gave would teach him that lying was an art form worth learning properly. 
“Yes,” he said in a whimper, but of course he had no idea what the question was
and naively left himself wide open for her inevitable rejoinder.

“
Well then, what is the answer?  Tell us all.”

The valuable lesson was of
course if you are going to lie, you must have a fundamental idea of what you
are lying about.  He looked away from her maniacal gaze and before he could
fully control the fear which pulsed throughout his body, a pool of warm water
appeared on the floor below him.

“
What in heaven’s name do you think you are doing
boy?”  shouted the red-faced teacher while tugging at his arm.  “Go to the Head
Mistress at once and tell her what you have done!”

Mrs Putnham was not smiling but
she was enjoyed his pain.  She turned to the other children and encouraged them
to goad him for his lack of bladder control.  “Do you see what young Robert has
done children?  He has wet himself like a big baby!”

Robert wept uncontrollably as he
followed the same floorboard to the door of the classroom.  He did not dare
look at any of the children whose raucous laughter cut through him like a
knife.

Upon Robert’s arrival at her office,
Miss Wagstaff looked at his breeches and understood immediately what had
happened.  Taking his hand she said in a gentle voice, “Please come with me,
Robert.”

They walked together hand in
hand into a sun-drenched part of the playground and sat on a small brick wall. 
“Your pantaloons will dry here my dear,” she said feeling his pain completely.

Robert sat with his head in his
hands weeping.  Every anxiety-filled emotion in his body letting go at once. 
He was truly in despair and at such a young age.  Miss Wagstaff wondered what
could possibly have happened to cause this as she held his quivering body.

In less than an hour the
Pishiobury’s coach pulled to a halt at the front of the school and out ran
Nanny.  As luck would have it she wanted to be there at the very moment Robert
came out of class and Miss Parks was very thankful that she had arrived
early.   Without saying a word to, “that woman,” as she called her nemesis,
Miss Parks clutched the boy into her arms asking, “What have you done to my little
darling this time?”

Without another word to Miss
Wagstaff, Miss Parks instructed the driver to pick the boy up and place him in
the carriage.  This done, they made all haste for Pishiobury Park.  Upon her
return to the estate Miss Parks pleaded on behalf of Robert but Lord and Lady
Pishiobury were adamant.  They were determined to bring the boy into society,
they felt his pain just as she did but her employers would not hear of
shielding their son from his inevitable confrontation with life.

Lord Pishiobury insisted that,
“He must return again and again until he builds some kind of resilience.  He is
over sensitive and must learn to become more stalwart, he must toughen himself
up!”

Day after day Robert returned to
school and sat in his little chair in a state of fearful concentration.  Having
learned the shame caused by letting his imagination roam he was determined
never to make the same mistake again.

Mrs Putnham eventually gave up
asking him questions after a while because he always knew exactly what she had
been talking about.  Even she could not find reasons to be spiteful to a child
who gave the correct answers so Miss Putnham turned her wrath onto other, less
attentive children.  She settled for the fact that Robert’s silent concentration
created no disruption to her class but was very disappointed that he could no
longer be startled into soiling himself.

After many months of terrible
stress-filled days in the dingy classroom Robert accidentally discovered
something within himself that changed his life completely.  Quite spontaneously
he said something funny in the middle of a lesson and his words were
inadvertently heard by the children who sat close by.  His naturally sharp mind
had seen the funny side of a story about a man called Isaac Newton.  According
to Mrs Putnham, he discovered something called gravity when an apple fell from
a tree and hit him on the head.  Quite instinctively Robert quipped with
perfect comedic timing, “It’s lucky for him he wasn’t sitting under our dovecote,”
and the laughter he provoked among his peers felt intoxicating.

Mrs Putnham immediately turned
from the blackboard and looked at the boy sitting next to Robert and fired from
the hip, “What may I ask is so funny?”

“
Nothing Miss,” replied Reginald.

“
Do you expect me to believe that you just burst
into spontaneous laughter for absolutely no reason?”

“
Yes Miss.”

Reginald was struck over the
knuckles for his insolence and Mrs Putnham ranted about respect for one’s
elders.  Then, completely worn out by her own tirade she angrily dismissed the
children, sending them outside for their morning play-time.  Realizing that
there was more to the strange boy than met the eye, Reginald walked over to
Robert who stood alone in the playground as always.  Fearing the worst Robert
flinched as he heard the boy ask, “Do you want to play with me and my friends?”

Robert gave a shy nod and walked
over to join the lads in a game of football.  These were the elite boys who all
others in his year looked up to and their acceptance gave Robert the strength
to crack another joke.  All of the boys laughed causing the warm feelings of
approval to wash over him once more and this simple act of inclusion determined
that Robert’s personality would develop with wit at its core.  It was an odd
thing but children laughing at him caused deep pain yet the same children
laughing with him provoked ecstatic pleasure.

From that day on Robert
developed his sharp brain to make people laugh and over time he fine-tuned his
skill to become a very accomplished school clown.  It felt fantastic to be
popular but as with all children who seek meaning through the approval of
others he sacrificed control of his emotions.  Robert was effectively handing
responsibility for his mood to others and condemning himself to a life of
volatility in the process.  On a good day when his playmates approved Robert
felt wonderful, but on a bad day when they did not respond to his clowning he
felt very low.  The fact that others may not be laughing because of problems in
their own lives was irrelevant to Robert.   The only time he felt himself to be
of any value was when others showed their admiration.

The following three years at
Spellbrook were made tolerable by hilarity.  Laughter was Robert’s lifeblood
and amusing others became simple because his very fast mind saw things so
sharply.  He could bend words and meanings of sentences to make the most
incredibly amusing observations out of the most ordinary of things.

Unfortunately, Mrs Putnham
punished Robert for making any kind of joke during her lessons so consequently
his new confident persona existed only in the playground.  In the classroom
Robert sat quietly and paid perfect attention to every word.  The information
was never remembered on a conscious level because his concentration existed
purely to prevent humiliation in front of his peers.  In order to perfect this
illogical arrangement Robert worked out a system of memorizing her last few
sentences; then when he felt sure that he would not be asked a tricky question he
let them drift from his memory to be replaced by the next.  Robert was so
scared of being humiliated again that all he could remember of his years at
prep school was the constant feeling of living on a knife’s edge.

Almost everyone found Robert’s
outward change remarkable because the only character they ever saw was the one
who existed in the playground.  Miss Wagstaff could not believe the difference
in the boy and his parents heaved a great sigh of relief.  Only Nanny observed
the truth of what was happening to her beloved charge.  She could see that he
was the same vulnerable young man who had merely created this character to mask
his weakness.  Miss Parks knew that if anyone looked close enough they would
find the vulnerable child within but for now it would have to do; and of
course, it was inevitable that like all things in life — for now became
forever.