The Escapist (7 page)

“’Ere, what lies have you been spreading Osscar?  This little piglet..” The surrounding crowd murmured in laughter, as he continued.  “…seems to think I have done something wrong?”  Looking innocent was not a strength Edmund could play to and despite his best efforts his jutting chin just gave an illusion of stupidity.

“Quit the act Edmund.  Okay, you can try to kid everyone with your big stories.  But all of us know what you’re capable of.”  Oscar turned imploringly to the crowd as he spoke, the many uncertain faces clearly showing the weak hold Edmund had.

“Oh, really?  How can you say that Oscar, after I saved you?”  The dig was cheap and fell weakly on the ears of the audience.  Spurred on, Piggy jumped back into the argument in a second.

“You’re scum Edmund, everyone here suffers because of you.  Tell the truth or I’ll…” But the inherently empty threat was all too easy to detect and Edmund leapt upon it with ferocity.

“You’ll what Pig-gy?”  Silence sat heavily on the wall of children who by now had ceased jostling each other and were drinking in every moment of the extraordinary confrontation.  Edmund moved forward, his giant stature making the chubby boy seem to shrink in comparison.  His gang also appeared revitalised, leaning in ready and alert.  Sensing catastrophe Oscar stepped closer to the pair, ready to dive forward if the precarious situation rapidly exploded.   Yet to everyone’s surprise it was not Edmund who ignited the fuse 

“…or I’ll get you Edmund.”  Piggy finished, before lunging forward and swinging his rear leg towards Edmund’s crotch.  Easily, Edmund blocked the kick and started for Piggy but Oscar threw himself at his arms before he could translate the movement into a proper punch.  Oscar attempted to wrestle with Edmund, at one point even holding a slight advantage as he had one of Edmund’s arms twisted back on itself, but it was short lived.  Even before Edmund’s superior strength could win out, one of his cronies, a short stocky kid named Gregg had waded in and ripped Oscar away.

Punches and kicks were thrown wildly within the scrambled cluster of boys, so much so that the surrounding children rapidly drew back to provide more room for the entertainment.  It was messy; the type of fight that came from high tempers and dirty tactics, though fortunately it was short lived.  The crowd dispersed in an instant when a matron named McKay came storming down the corridor.  She was a large woman in her late fifties, with arms as thick and hard as tree trunks and she had no compunction about manhandling unruly children.  Oscar, Piggy, Edmund and Gregg found themselves semi-entangled but otherwise deserted.  Their audience had fled.  Matron McKay stepped forward and wrenched the boys apart, grumbling in her thick accent as she dragged the boys back by their collars. 

“Ye silly
boys, weel ye n’ver learn?”  With one swift yank she pulled Piggy up and plonked him aside.  Piggy looked surprised to find himself in one piece, the worst of the damage being a few small bruises and shallow scratches. 

“Right, well, what am I goona do wit yers?”  With his growing pessimism Oscar was expecting the full front of the matron’s anger to be directed solely towards himself – perhaps a bit spilling onto Piggy – and was lost for words when all of them received a telling off.  However his initial suspicions were soon justified when only he and Piggy were sent to bed without dinner.

“Thanks, George” Oscar told Piggy as they made their way slowly back to the dorm. “You really came through for me”.

Piggy beamed.  No one called him by his first name anymore and whilst he didn’t mind Piggy so much, the gesture was clearly appreciated. 

“That’s alright mate, can’t let you fight this one alone.  Though I’m glad you jumped in when you did.” The chubby boy reflected. “I think he would have beaten me to a pulp!”

“We just need to get you in shape for the next fight…Piggy!” Oscar joked.  Hungry and tired he couldn’t help but smile as he spoke, and though it hurt the cut on his cheek to do so, he didn’t mind at all.

Chapter 6

Over the coming days both Oscar and Piggy found themselves becoming more alienated.  In the dining hall they were often sidelined, forced to the edges of any table that would take them.  Communication was limited, even with those who had formerly been allies.  The protest outside the workshop had acted as a useful demonstration against Edmund and indeed both Oscar and Piggy suspected that many of the children perhaps were not as united with Edmund as they had first thought.  Yet few were inclined to show any outward signs of dissent and many wanted nothing to do with Oscar or Piggy thanks to the trouble they now equally associated with them – not just with Edmund and his gang.

Unease hung everywhere like a thick blanket of fog and many of the children who had become accustomed to the former monotony of their days now had to contend with the fiercely aggressive backlash from Edmund and his gang.   The humiliation he had suffered in front of the majority of children had only fuelled his desire for dominance.  Clearly Edmund had seen how slight his hold over the other children really was and was seeking to reinforce his authority.  Since the fight and the consolidation of Edmund’s gang it was almost seemed as though the act of tormenting other children was a badge to wear, a membership of an invulnerable group that existed outside the matrons’ radar.

Within days Edmund had recruited a gang of around ten older boys who seemed to actively enjoy their new posts, harassing any children bold enough to stare them in the eye.  Seeing the ease with which the children accepted this new authority Oscar began to understand why he was not believed in the first place.  The defences of the children were weak. Well used to being trod on, they accepted every new blow with resignation, working to adapt and tolerate the new conditions as quickly as possible.  Without any strong belief in themselves to anchor their views and believe in their own rights, the children were actually reinforcing the tyranny.  Nothing Oscar did was changing it.  So demoralised were the children that they could not even cling to the last spark of resistance, clearly paraded in front of them by Oscar and Piggy.  If anything they were collaborators in the effort to stamp the spark out, Oscar thought bitterly.  In this light the scene outside the toilets became clear.  Anyone affiliated with him was instantly punished; Edmund was reinforcing the notion that the Oscar and others who opposed him were the cause of such misfortune.

Yet Oscar couldn’t help but feel that he at least was fortunate, given the circumstances.  His previous experiences had given him a hardened disposition that helped steel him against the things the gang were doing.  And despite his disapproval of the ‘troublemaker’ status he had somehow acquired, it was proving to be a useful shield.  Yet Piggy was not so fortunate.  Not only was he a more vulnerable character to begin with but he had been on good terms with many of the children who now shunned them, so he felt the loss more keenly.  Worse still, given his role as instigator of Edmund’s public humiliation Piggy found himself the focus of sustained attention from Edmund’s gang, often returning to bed with bruises, cuts and sores from the day’s encounters.  One bully, Gregg, seemed to shadow him everywhere for potential beating opportunities.

Despite every reassurance on Oscar’s part and encouragement in getting through the minefield of daily torments the gang dished out, Oscar could only look on helplessly as Piggy slowly succumbed.  Oscar watched as the essence of Piggy’s character gradually drained away so that the once upbeat joker began to hollow, wasting slowly until only the husk of the previous boy remained.  For every blow he received and conversation he was shunned from, a piece of his being was chiselled away.

It was difficult for Oscar to console his once beaming companion and having seen the braveness exhibited on his behalf, he longed to repay the debt.  More so since he had previously counted Piggy so harshly as an irritating acquaintance, rather than grasping the true friendship he had been offering all along.  Oscar racked his mind for a way to help him, yet this was not a situation he had any familiarity with.  With no possessions of real value or even advice other than to keep your head down it was difficult to find a way to help the boy.  Yet Oscar resolved to do something before it was too late.  There must be a way, if only he could think of it.

Several weeks had passed since the confrontation outside the workshop.  It was night time, and most of the children were spending what little time they could grasp, quietly socialising before a new day would start afresh, stretching before them in all its tedious monotony.  Oscar pulled himself upright on his bunk, leaning down to watch Piggy as he threw himself listlessly onto the bedding.  Piggy had only just returned from the canteen but could not be coerced into much of a conversation.  Sighing, he eventually turned his back on Oscar, muttering vaguely about an ‘early night’.

Oscar leaned back into his less than soft pillow, yet he could not help but feel angry.  The past few weeks had been unusually busy and his emotions were running riot.  He would have to keep himself in check from now on - practice cold calculation and trust no one, except for Piggy of course.  From the corner of his eye Oscar watched Edmund and his gang mildly tormenting two younger children.  The boys were new to the Institute and the gang had demanded that the boys undertake a ‘welcome’ initiation. 

Edmund and Flynn held one boy aloft by his ankles, while Gregg and another of the gang, Teddy did likewise to the second.  They appeared to be treating it as a competition, waiting to see whose head would turn reddest by the time ‘lights out’ was called.  The remainder of the gang looked on, jeering and placing bets with their frugal possessions.  As the entertainment began to dull occasional shakes were administered.  Yelps issued from the two boys but were swiftly answered with unsympathetic jabs to the stomach.

After ten minutes Oscar had had enough.  Peering towards the exit he could see a matron sat just outside the dorms, yet she was turning a blind eye to the spectacle within.  Oscar swung his legs round in preparation to jump down from the bunk, readying himself for the inevitable second brawl.

“What, Osscar?” Edmund said clocking the movement from his opponent’s bunk.  He didn’t wait for a response.  “They said they wanted to do it.  Didn’t you?”  Edmund turned to the kid he held aloft, administering another sharp blow to the stomach.

“Yesss…”
the child croaked, though it was barely recognisable as an affirmation.

“Put them down Edmund, they know you’re the boss, you got what you want.” Oscar ground the words out, difficult as it was not to attach an insult.  He was hoping that Edmund might focus on his sudden submissiveness rather than the dangling punch bags in front of him.  It didn’t work. 

“I don’t think so.  You come over here and help them if you’re that bothered.” 

Other children tried to ignore the scene, torn between interest at the outcome and the desire to keep their own low profiles.  Clearly no one wished to be part of a similar spectacle as the previous one – they knew too well how bad the repercussions could be.

Oscar looked hard at Edmund, trying to decide.  It would be nice if it were only a bluff.  Indeed, most of the Edmund’s gang were all too keen to talk the talk but when it came down to it they couldn’t see anything through.  It was by pushing his luck and judging the extent to which they would actually go to that Oscar had so far escaped the prolonged oppression which Piggy had been subjected to.  This was Edmund however, and bluffing he clearly wasn’t.  Wishing it hadn’t come to this Oscar eventually jumped off the edge of his bunk.  Matron Clarke with her timing perfect as usual, appeared at the door.

“I hope you’re not intending on trouble as usual Oscar?  Perhaps you had better turn right around and get back into your bunk.”  Despite his reluctance to yield, Oscar was relieved.  The objective would still be achieved and without having to turn nasty.  The matron would have to insist that Edmund release his captives.  As if on cue she turned towards the two dangling boys; red in the face they looked almost on the verge of passing out.

“Edmund, do you really think that is suitable treatment for our new members?”  Even Edmund’s primitive brain understood this question to be rhetorical. 

“Please drop the boys
, Edmund”.  And that was it.  With the casual reprimand still hanging in the air the matron finished her patrol around the dorm and strolled on out of the room.  The damage had been done.  In view of every child of the Institute the matrons had concreted their allegiance with Edmund -it was an undeniable confirmation of his position of power.

Clambering up to the top bunk, Oscar could hear a whimpering from under Piggy’s bulging blanket.  It was clear today had been rough and Oscar was still struggling to find a way of helping him out of this rut.  Leaning back into his pillow Oscar was beginning to think there was no solution, no way out.  And just like that, it came to him.  Finally, he thought to himself, a way to help Piggy.  Looking across at Edmund he smirked.  How poetic.  Happy to finally have something he could do, Oscar rolled under the blankets and curled up, beginning to work on his idea.  As the lights dimmed one by one, to darkness he slowly drifted off. Visions of alternate Institutes flashed through his mind, entwined with the distant sound of small creatures scratching away at the woodwork and scurrying overhead in the attics.

Being well practised at waking in the early hours, Oscar soon pulled himself out of his slumber, eager to help Piggy.  It must have been close to midnight and the pearled moon was attempting to shine its meagre rays of light through the windows.  Quietly lifting the edge of his mattress Oscar gathered together his tools before alighting from the bunk.

Crouching low to avoid making a notable presence, he gently shook the bulge who not only a few hours ago had cried himself to sleep.

“Piggy, I mean, George.  Hey, wake up mate I have something to show you” Oscar whispered into his ear.

“Uh?  What, whose..?” Piggy murmured a little too noisily and others beginning to stir slightly in their sleep.  Oscar quickly placed his hand over Piggy’s mouth.

“Its ok George, it’s me.  Be quiet though - we don’t want to wake any one.  Look, I’ve got something I want you to have, but we need to go somewhere first.”  The startled boy gently nodded, his trust in Oscar being the only guarantee needed.

***

Only the slightest of footfall was audible, and those who heard them perhaps mistook the sound for rats, as the two comrades crept out of the dorm and toward the toilets.  Despite his size Piggy was a natural in the art of stealth and followed Oscar’s lead to the letter.  It would have been an impeccable performance, had the toilet window not provided a more difficult obstacle.  Fortunately, with a tight squeeze, they made it outside and into the crisp fresh air.  The dew on the grass soaked their plimsolls and the legs of their pyjama bottoms, but they were too preoccupied to notice. 

It was a little cold outside but the excitement fuelled them both; stoking the fire within.  The grounds of the Institute looked strange by night, stranger still given the weakness of the moon behind the mask of clouds.  Despite having been out here many times by himself, Oscar couldn’t fail to suppress a shiver.  It was far too easy to imagine that the black shapes made by the bushes or the outlines of the doorways could be hiding that twisted creature that had haunted his dreams during the concussion a few weeks ago.  Shaking himself, Oscar regained his focus – he was here to help Piggy and it was time to get on with it.

Upon reaching the gate, Piggy, whose obedience up until now had been unquestioning, finally succumbed to curiosity.

“Osc, what’s this all about?”  Oscar did not reply but merely gestured towards the padlock with a smirk, as though about to perform some sort of magic.  In return Piggy frowned, bemused as to what solution Oscar could possibly be hinting at.  Careful not to try his friend’s patience Oscar’s hand raced over the keyhole, a blur of activity synonymous only with those who practiced thimblerig on unsuspecting tourists in the main town.  With a final flourish there was a click.  Oscar drew his hand away as the padlock fell to the floor, hitting the ground with a dull thud.

“What. No way! How did you do that Osc?” For that brief instant Oscar could see Piggy return to the boy he had once been: a gleeful smile stretched across his face.

“Well I suppose this is the only gift I can give you Piggy, the one skill I honed for months and which Edmund would sincerely like to know.”  He held his tools out open so Piggy could examine them.  “I want you to share these with me.  They are all you need to unlock these types of padlocks, but they also work on various locks around the Institute.”  Piggy turned them over in his hands as Oscar continued.  “I keep them under my mattress and you can get to them anytime you need, day or night.  Just don’t make it obvious, and be sure not to tell anyone else.”

“Will you teach me how to do it?” Piggy choked back.

“Of course, then whenever it all gets too much you can get away”.

“Thanks Oscar.” Piggy whispered.  And with that the two boys huddled around the padlock, the gradually acquired trade of one being passed on to the other. 

They practiced for many nights following, though it wasn’t long before Piggy felt confident with the tool, adopting the talent with competence.  Even after the long days when the chubby boy was sore and swollen from bruises Edmund and his gang had wreaked upon him; he still managed to be up at midnight every night, patiently waiting for his friend to awaken.