The Brotherhood of the Rose (25 page)

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Authors: David Morrell

Tags: #Crime, #Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Thrillers, #Suspense, #Espionage, #Assassins, #Adventure Stories, #Special Forces (Military Science)

BOOK: The Brotherhood of the Rose
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Soon the class had other heroes of the moment. In swimming class, a few kids even managed to equal Saul's performance, possibly because he showed no enthusiasm. He'd lost his joy. But Chris never went to the pool without feeling troubled by what had happened in the locker room that day. Who'd stolen the cards? he wondered, noticing the angry flare in Saul's eyes each time the group dressed, as if Saul relived his loss and humiliation.

Another question equally troubled Chris. How had the cards been stolen? The instructor had searched each boy's clothes. So how had the cards disappeared? He felt excited as a sudden thought occurred to him.

Eager, he couldn't wait to tell Saul, but then he remembered what had happened when he confused Babe Ruth with the candy bar, and he stopped himself, afraid of being laughed at if he was wrong. He waited for his chance to prove what he suspected, and the next day when his class walked from the school building to the dormitory, he hung back. Out of sight, he hurried to the changing room in the basement of the gym. After watching beneath the benches and behind the equipment locker, he found the cards wedged between a pipe and the wall beneath the sink. He shook as he held them. Whoever had stolen the cards must have been afraid the class would be searched. To protect himself, the boy had hidden them in the changing room, planning to come back when it was safe. Chris shoved the cards in his pocket, breathless as he ran from the gym to the dormitory to give them to Saul. He imagined how delighted Saul would be. Now Saul would be his friend.

Unlike the group, Chris had never stopped wanting to be close to him. From the start, he'd felt attracted as he would to a brother, and he'd never forgotten that afternoon in swimming class when the instructor had praised him for kicking as well as Saul did and Saul had turned to him grinning as if they shared a bond. But Saul now had built a wall around himself, and without the gift of the cards, Chris didn't know how to break through.

As he reached the dormitory, though, Chris suddenly felt uncertain. The cards had been stolen a week ago. Why hadn't the boy who hid them come back to get them? Pausing on the stairs, Chris knew the answer. Because the boy had realized he couldn't show them to anyone or play with them except in secret. Otherwise word would get around--Saul would find out, and there'd be trouble. The bulge of the cards in Chris's pocket made him worried. Though he hadn't stolen the cards, it would seem as if he had. Saul would blame him. After all, how else would Chris have known where they were?

Panicked, Chris had to get rid of them. In the dormitory's basement washroom, he thought of hiding them under a sink as the thief had done. But what if a janitor cleaned beneath the sinks and found them, or what if a boy dropped his comb and happened to glance beneath the sink as he picked the comb up' ' No, he needed somewhere out of reach. Glancing above him, he noticed the steam pipes covered with grimy asbestos liners suspended along the ceiling. Climbing on the shoeshine stands, then across the cast-iron towel racks attached to the wall, he wedged the cards above a steam pipe. Nervous, he climbed back down, sighing in relief that he hadn't been caught. Now all he had to do was figure out how to return the cards to Saul without being blamed for stealing them.

He couldn't sleep all night, thinking about it. There had to be a way.

The next day, Saul was still sulking when Chris came over to him outside the refectory after lunch. I know who stole your cards."

Saul angrily demanded, "Who?"... The swimming instructor."."He said he didn't take them."

"He lied. I saw him give them to our teacher. I know where she put them."

"Where?"

A supervisor came over. "You guys are supposed to be in your room for rest period." He followed them into the dormitory. "I'll tell you later," Chris whispered to Saul when the supervisor wasn't looking.

After school, Saul hurried to Chris. "So tell me where." in the school building, Chris told Saul to watch the corridor while he snuck back in the classroom. "She put them in her desk."

"But her desk is locked," Saul said. "I know a way to open it." Chris left Saul in the corridor. He'd seen their teacher go outside, so he guessed it was safe to be in the classroom. He didn't try to open the desk, but he waited long enough to make it seem he had. Finally he joined Saul in the corridor. "Did you get them?" Saul asked anxiously.

Instead of answering, Chris made Saul follow him down the stairs. With no one around, he quickly reached beneath the front of his pants, pulling the cards out. Earlier he'd retrieved them from the pipe in the dormitory's basement washroom.

Saul looked delighted. Then his brow contorted, mystified. "But how'd you get in her desk?"

"I'll show you sometime. You got your cards back. I'm the one who found them. Just remember who helped you that's all." Chris started toward the exit.

Behind him, Saul said, "Thanks." Chris shrugged. "It was nothing."

"Wait a minute." Chris turned. Coming toward him, Saul frowned as if trying to decide on something. Pained, he fumbled among his cards and handed Chris one. "Here."

"But.." Chris looked at the card. Babe Ruth. His knees felt weak. "Why'd you help me?" Saul asked. "Because." The magic word said everything. He didntt need to add, "I want to be your friend."

Saul glanced self-consciously at the floor. "I guess I could show you a better way to do that kick in swimn-Ling class iif you want."

Heart pounding, Chris nodded. Then it was his turn to frown. He groped in a pocket. "Here." He handed Saul a candy bar. Baby Ruth.

Saul's eyes widened in amazement. "Candy's not allowed. Where'd you get this?"

"How'd you bring the cards into school without getting caught?"

"A secret."

"Same with me and the candy bar." Chris scuffled his feet, "But I'll tell you if you tell me."

They stared at each other and started grinning.

Chris had a secret all right. Earlier that day, when the governess had taken Chris out of class and marched him to the administration building, he'd been afraid he was going to be punished for something. His legs shaky, he entered an office. At first it looked empty. Then in confusion he noticed a man by a window, peering out. The man was tall and thin. He wore a black suit, and when he turned, Chris blinked in surprise, recognizing the gray face of the man who'd brought him here. "Hello, Chris." The man's voice was soft. He smiled. "It's good to see you again."

Behind him, Chris heard the door shut as the governess left the office. He tensed, gazing up at the man, who continued to smile. "You do remember me, don't you? Eliot?"

Chris nodded. "Of course you do. I came to find out how you're getting along." Eliot approached him. "I know the school must seem strange to you, but you'll get used to it." He chuckled. "At least the food must agree with you. You look as if you've put on a couple pounds."

Still chuckling, he crouched so Chris didn't have to strain to look up at him. "I had another reason for coming here." He peered directly into Chris's eyes.

Chris shifted from one leg to the other. I told you I'd come back to see you." Eliot put his hands on Chris's shoulders. "I want you to know I keep my promises." He reached in a pocket. "And I promised to bring you more of these." He held out two Baby Ruth candy bars.

Chris's heart beat fast. By now, he knew how valuable candy was in the school. The only way to get it was by smuggling it in. He studied them eagerly.

Slowly, formally, Eliot gave them to Chris. "I promise something else. I'll bring them every time I come to see you. Count on that. I want you to know you've got a friend. More than a friend. I'm like your father. Trust me. Depend on me."

Chris put one of the bars in his pocket, vaguely sensing a way to use it, uncertain how. He glanced from the other bar toward Eliot, who smiled again. "Oh, by all means, eat it. Enjoy it." Eliot's eyes twinkled.

Tearing off the wrapper, his mouth watering as he bit into the chocolate, Chris suddenly felt hollow. His chest ached. Unable to stop himself, he threw his arms around Eliot, sobbing convulsively.

Eliot sometimes visited twice in a week. Other times he was gone for half a year. But true to his promise, he always brought Baby Ruth candy bars. Chris learned that no matter how stern the school could be there was one adult whose kindness and interest he could always depend on. Eliot arranged to take Chris from school to see boxing and tennis. They went to Howard Johnson's for chocolate sundaes. Eliot taught Chris how to play chess. He took Chris to his large home in Falls Church, Virginia, where Chris marveled at the huge chairs and sofas, the enormous dining room, and the spacious bedroom. Eliot showed him the brilliant roses in the greenhouse. Intrigued., by the suburb's name-Falls Church-Chris smelled the roscl, reminded of the fragrance of Easter service, feeling as if the greenhouse indeed were a church.

As his relationship with Eliot grew, so did his friendshid with Saul. The two boys seemed inseparable. Chris shared his Baby Ruths with Saul, and Saul for his part shared his physics skills, teaching Chris the secrets of baseball and football and. basketball. But Saul, the natural athlete, had trouble with mathematics and languages, so Chris, the natural scholar, helped Saul to study and pass his exams. They complemented each other. What the one couldn't do, the other could, together unbeatable. Saul again became the envy of his group. But so did Chris.

Only one thing was lacking to make it all perfect. Eliot's next visit was the first weekend in July. "Tomorrow's the Fourth, Chris. Tell you what. Why don't I take you to the big fireworks show downtown?"

Chris got excited. But Eliot seemed troubled. "I've been wondering. Now tell me the truth. You won't hurt my feelings."

Chris didn't know what he meant. "These trips we go on." Chris felt afraid. "You're going to stop them?"

"No. Good Heavens, they mean too much to me." Eliot laughed and mussed Chris's hair. "But I've been thinking. I bet it must get boring for you with only a grownup to talk to, You must get tired of seeing the same old face. What I've been wondering-well, would you like to share these trips with someone else?

Have you got a friend, a special friend, you" like to bring along? Someone you're really close to, who's almost family? I won't mind."

Chris couldn't believe his luck-the chance to be with the two most important people in his world at once. He'd always felt bad, not being able to share his fortune with Saul. In turn he felt so proud of being friends with Saul he wanted Eliot to know him. His eyes beamed, excited. "You bet!"

"Then what are you waiting for?" Eliot grinned. "You won't go away "I'll stay right here."

Bursting with anticipation, Chris ran from the bench near the armory where they'd been sitting. "Saul! Guess what?" Behind him, he heard Eliot chuckle.

Thereafter Saul was always included. Chris felt overjoyed at Eliot's approval of his friend. "You're right. He's special, Chris. you made an excellent choice. I'm proud of you." Eliot brought candy bars for both of them now. He took them for Thanksgiving to his home. He let them go on a plane ride. -Chris, there's one thing that bothers me. I hope you're not jealous when I give Saul candy bars or show him attention. I wouldn't want you to think I was ignoring you or treating him with more importance than you. You're like a son to me. I love you. We'll always be close. If I make Saul feel good, it's because I want to make you feel good-because he's your friend, because he's family."

"Gosh, I couldn't be jealous of Saul."

"Then you understand. I knew you would. You trust me."

Every Saturday night, in the many years to come, the school showed a different movie, but in one way, they were all the same. Battle Cry, The Sands of Iwo Jima, Guadalcanal Diary, Francis Goes to West Point, Francis in the Navy. "That talking mule sure makes the military seem a lot of fun," the boys said. The Frogmen, Back to Bataan, Combat Squad, Beachhead, Battle Zone, Battleground, Battle Stations. In ancient history, they learned about Alexander's conquests and Caesar's Gallic wars. In American history, they learned about the War for Independence, the War of 1812, the Civil War. In literature -glasses, they read The Red Badge of Courage, For Whom the Bell Toils, The Thin Red Line. They didn't mind the repeated theme, for the books were filled with heroics and action, always exciting. As well, the boys liked rifle practice, tactical maneuvers, precision matching, and the other training they received in the school's militia. They enjoyed the war games. In class as well as in sports, they were encouraged to compete against the other boys, to see who was smarter, stronger, faster, better. And they couldn't help noticing the strangers who often appeared silently at the back of the gym or the football field Or the classroom, sometimes in uniform, sometimes not. With dark narrowed eyes, the strangers watched, comparing, judging.

Candy. Because of it, Saul saved Chris's life in 1959. The boys were fourteen-though they didn't know, they were about to end one set of adventures and begin another. With money Eliot had given them, they'd gone into business, smuggling candy into school in exchange for kitchen detail and similar nuisance jobs the other boys did for them. On December 10, after lights out, they snuck from the dormitory across the snowy grounds to a secluded section of the high stone wall. Saul stood on Chris's shoulders and climbed. Chris grabbed his arm, squirming up after him. In starlight, they saw their frosty breath escape from their mouths as they lay on top and studied the dark street below them.

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