The Three Thorns (4 page)

“Hey, what did you do that for?” Tommy sighed.

Peter knelt down to show the boys a rusted silver key in his hand.

“Benjamin’s coming with us,” Peter said firmly, staring directly into Tommy’s piercing blue eye. “We can trust him,” he added, then carefully placed the silver key into Benjamin’s hand to secure his inclusion. “Take this, Benjamin. It is the key to the back gate.”

“How did you get this?” Benjamin gasped.

“Swiped it from Jennings’s desk a few days ago. He’s been searching for it ever since,” Peter sniggered along with the other boys.

“So, where are we going?” asked Benjamin.

“We’re getting out of this dump. We’re going to live and work on a farm,” George explained excitably as Peter nodded in agreement.

“I know a friend in the country. He’ll give you work and a better life, if you want to go.” Peter added.

“You bet I do.” Benjamin smiled. “I was just thinking of leaving, myself, actually.”

Tommy pointed to Benjamin. “Dare slow us up, and you’ll be left behind. Understood?”

Jimmy extinguished another newly lit cigarette and lifted out a small torn travel bag that was hidden behind a few dusty boxes. George grabbed his tatty coat and hat while Peter climbed out onto the balcony space of the rooftop’s window. Benjamin tucked the key safely in his maroon blanket.

Peter coolly turned around to look at all four of them through the window. “I’m going to climb down and check that the back gate area is safe. Everyone is inside so far as I can tell. They won’t be able to see me from here.”

George rushed down a few steps to open the attic door. He nodded back to the rest of the group after he had checked that the top floor was clear.

“Like we planned, remember? Make your way to the back kitchen in the dinner hall and climb through the top window,” Peter whispered. “Trust me,” he added, before vanishing from sight to inspect the back gate.

Tommy grabbed a jar of pennies and emptied them onto the dusty floor. He separated them into three piles, scraping the first pile off the old wooden floorboards and sticking the pennies in his trouser pocket. He handed one pile of pennies to George and another to Jimmy.

Benjamin was the last in line, of course, carefully following the group on the unstable steps of Gatesville’s tower space.

Mr. Jennings’ screams still echoed through the library from the mound of books he was buried under.

“Sounds like that old crab Jennings,” George whispered.

Tommy motioned for Benjamin to come closer. “What happened?” Tommy asked.

Benjamin took a deep breath. He proudly explained how Mr. Jennings had caught Peter in the library and how he had pushed a giant bookshelf on top of the nasty principal and his prefects. George and Jimmy laughed in amusement at Benjamin’s daring act, but Tommy sniggered at him.

“You’re not telling us fibs, are you?”

Benjamin earnestly shook his head before the bully gave him a respectful nod.

“Not bad, for someone so small,” Tommy reluctantly admitted.

“Anyone who pulls a stunt like that on Jennings is all right in my book,” George said, much to Benjamin’s pleasure.

Tommy padded down the top staircase silently toward the second floor. He searched around for a brief moment then whispered up to them. “It’s all clear.”

Angry cries from Mr. Jennings boomed up at them from the library and across the corridors.

Mr. Jennings and the older boys were pulled up from under the rubble of books by Mr. Porter and several prefects. “Give us some help over here!” yelled Mr. Porter.

The bruised and shaken principal finally stood up straight in front of the crowd that had gathered around the library’s entrance.

“I’m going to kill those boys,” he growled. “Porter, you come with me. I need volunteers to search for the two brats who did this to me.”

Mr. Jennings’s face grew red with anger. “Whoever helps me find the culprits will be off cleaning duties and mathematics study for the remainder of the year,” he announced.

The math teacher sighed when every boy in the room shot their arm into the air to volunteer.

Mr. Jennings grinned as he picked out thirty boys from the crowd.

“Bring me Benjamin Brannon!” he shouted. “You have one hour. Happy hunting, scrappers!”

Meanwhile, Benjamin and the boys could hear every word loud and clear. When Mr. Jennings shouted out Benjamin’s name, Tommy and his friends looked at the boy, now trembling.

“I knew you would be a problem,” whispered Tommy.

George tapped Tommy on the shoulder. “Peter says we should take him with us, remember?”

“I don’t care what Peter says. He’s not
my
leader,” Tommy snapped back.

“Then chase me, one of you. It’s the perfect distraction you need.” Benjamin replied.

Tommy stood up and pulled Jimmy up onto his feet. “Go with him and pretend to chase him into the kitchen. George and I will meet you at the back gate.”

Jimmy nodded and ran down the stairs after Benjamin, heading toward the kitchen at the same time Mr. Jennings and Mr. Porter stepped out of the library.

Benjamin flew in between them like the wind, missing a head-on collision by an inch. Spinning around in a full circle, both teachers gasped in surprise.

Mr. Jennings screamed hysterically. “I don’t believe it, there he goes! Get that brat! Over here, you fools. That way! That way!”

As Jennings stepped into the corridor to shout to the crowd of boys, Jimmy couldn’t slow himself, and charged into his principal. Mr. Jennings screamed like a girl when he was shoved to the floor again. He pulled Mr. Porter down with him while Jimmy stumbled over them.

“Okay, that didn’t go as planned,” Jimmy puffed.

Crowds of boys spotted Benjamin making his way toward the kitchen. When he reached a double turn, he realized he had forgotten whether to take a right or a left turn in order to reach the dinner hall. Feeling rushed, he took a hesitated guess and headed right.

Jimmy came to the same double turn Benjamin had, but took a left instead.

Benjamin reached a dead end. Two black exit doors lay in front of him, which had been padlocked. He remembered the rusty key and tried to unlock the locks with it.

“Oh no,” he whispered. The key and padlocks were incompatible.

As the crowd and orderlies continued their pursuit of Benjamin and Jimmy, George and Tommy coolly slipped by everyone and paced toward the front doors of the Gatesville building. Mr. Jennings and Mr. Porter were so caught up in the pandemonium that the boys were able to exit the building undetected.

Both boys instantly ran to the back gate, fearful they would be spotted cutting through the main playground if they lingered too long.

Peter stood behind the locked gate, waiting for the group to arrive.

“How did you get behind the gate?” George asked.

“I climbed it. Where is Benjamin?” Peter asked, crossing his long skinny arms over his chest.

“The whole place is rootling for him,” George answered, breathing heavily.

“You left him behind?” Peter gasped.

Tommy smirked at Peter without answering his question. “What do you care? We’ve made it, haven’t we?” he panted, bending down to catch his breath. Tommy then grabbed the handle of the gate only to discover it was still locked.

“Open it,” he ordered.

“I can’t,” Peter replied calmly.

Tommy grabbed the rusty bars of the gate door and began to violently shake it in frustration. “You’ll pay for this,” he threatened. Time was of the essence and all Tommy and George could do was wait and hope.

“Well, we had to wait on Jimmy anyway, Tommy,” George muttered.

“Shut up!”

Jimmy rammed the kitchen doors wide open and searched for the exit. He hastily barricaded the doors when he noticed Mr. Jennings leading a mob down the hallway after him. The crowd of thirty boys reached the double doors and started shoving their way through the weak blockade of tables and chairs.

“Hurry up, you weaklings. Put your back into it!” yelled Mr. Jennings.

With a mighty force of ten boys pushing together, the kitchen doors flung open. Jimmy was already halfway out of the window when the first boy in the crowd grabbed his leg.

“I’ve caught one, Sir!” the boy cried.

Jimmy called out to his friends for help.

When Tommy and George heard him, they ran cautiously around the corner of the building. Tommy was the first to rush toward him. He frantically attempted to tug the rest of his body out of the open window.

Inside, Mr. Porter pushed a group of boys out of his way to grab a hold of Jimmy’s legs.

Tommy and George were almost pulled inside the window along with Jimmy by a huge tugging force. Jimmy kicked violently to break free until his large foot struck Mr. Porter’s chest, sending the man slamming to the ground. With one last heave, Jimmy flew out of the window and landed on top of his friends. The three boys quickly dusted themselves off and ran back to the gate.

Each looked around for ways to climb the gate, but they couldn’t find anything to cling onto, for it was a solid rusted gate with singular poles running from its top to its bottom.

“I’m afraid we cannot leave until Benjamin comes with us,” Peter said.

“Why is that pip-squeak so important?” Tommy asked with a long sigh of frustration.

“Because I told him we would leave together. I will not go back on my word.”

Tommy reached between the bars and grabbed Peter by his collar. “What about the rest of us?” he rasped.

Peter stood fearless in the face of Tommy’s sudden outburst.

“I’m afraid your fate is in Benjamin’s hands now,” Peter replied bluntly. “He has the key, remember?”

Mr. Jennings and Mr. Porter led the hunt for Benjamin. A heavyset boy from the crowd had briefly taken a pit stop near the double turn due to a stitch in his side. When he’d reached the double turn by himself, he was unaware of what direction the other boys and orderlies had taken. His group had outpaced him and was no longer in his view. This sudden dilemma proved too great a puzzle for one so dim-witted.

The boy lifted a penny from his pocket and tossed it into the air.

“Heads for left, tails for right,” he breathlessly muttered to himself. He glanced at the sweaty palm of his left hand, awaiting the coin, and then slapped it onto the top of his right.

When he lifted his left hand off the coin, it was facing tails. The boy proceeded to slowly jog down the right corridor, rubbing the side of his torso to sooth the stitch. Right then Benjamin dodged him, running the opposite direction.

The startled boy screamed. “Mr. Porter! Mr. Jennings! Come quick! I’ve found one! It’s him!”

Upon hearing the boy’s scream, Mr. Jennings and Mr. Porter marched into view at the end of the corridor, leading the crowd toward Benjamin.

“You, there!” yelled Mr. Porter, pointing his fat finger at Benjamin.

Benjamin pulled at the side door at the dead end—just when Gatesville’s custodian pushed it open from the inside. The custodian carried a tall pile of fresh bed sheets that towered over his face. He didn’t notice Benjamin until the panicked boy ran into him, knocking him onto the floor.

“Don’t let him pass you!” shouted Mr. Jennings at the custodian, but it was too late. Benjamin was already inside.

Mr. Jennings stopped for a brief second to glare at the custodian who had unknowingly given Benjamin his last chance to escape.

“You idiot,” Mr. Jennings scolded. “I’ll deal with you later.”

Benjamin found another exit door inside the laundry room just when a crowd of prefects appeared behind it and blocked his path. Thinking fast, he jumped onto a row of wooden washing benches above them and struggled to avoid the multiple hands that reached up to grab him.

He raced across the unstable benches, heading for the nearest window. It seemed utterly hopeless until a foot booted through the windowpane ahead of him.

Speckles of glass splashed over the crowd. Just two more benches were all it would take to reach the helping hand that presented itself through the window’s frame. He plucked up enough strength to make the space in one giant leap, extending his right arm to grab hold of his rescuer.

The hand swiftly pulled him up to the window within a split second, revealing the identity of his hero.

It was Tommy.

He’s going to let me go just to be wicked,
Benjamin thought.

But to his surprise, Tommy used all his strength and effort to pull him out and away from the mob below them, just in time.

“Leg it!” Tommy cried, sprinting away from the hands that grasped for their feet through the window frame.

Once they’d reached the gate, Tommy shook it again. “I got him. I got him out,” he cried as each boy threw his bag of belongings over the gate.

“Come on, open it up,” George shouted nervously, peeping over his shoulder.

Jimmy jumped up and down in anticipation. Everyone seemed tense except for Peter. Benjamin looked to Peter and then to Tommy and shrugged his small shoulders.

“The key, where’s the key you little–,” Tommy rambled, grabbing Benjamin by the scruff.

“Oh, right,” Benjamin laughed nervously. “It’s here, I have it somewhere,” he said. Benjamin reached deep into his trouser pockets and pulled out…nothing.

The three boys on the inside of the gate gasped in horror. “Hurry up, unlock it!” George cried. Benjamin searched his pockets, then his coat. Still he found nothing.

“I-I’ve lost it.” Benjamin stammered in a panic as he vigorously searched his pockets. Tommy and George scolded Benjamin while Jimmy started to sob.

Peering over Tommy and George’s shoulder, Benjamin saw Mr. Jennings, Mr. Porter, and thirty or more boys, all stomping toward them from the front of the building.

Jimmy stared down at the ground with a miserable look on his face. He’d already given up.

Benjamin was trying desperately to find the key, searching inside his pockets and upon the ground while Tommy pointed at Peter through the gate.

“This is all your fault!” he shouted. “I shouldn’t have trusted you.”