Boarding School (41 page)

“Aw, what the hell.” With Sully’s attempts to revive my roommate not working, apparently, he shifted his thinking to another subject which was equally close to his heart. “I’m always hungry after sex, anyway.” Sully then released Matt’s face and stood up to allow my friend to remain under the flow of the cold beer as it continued to rush from the keg and drench my friend thoroughly. Despite it all, Matt was able to hold himself together so he could keep up the pretense that he was unconscious. “Let’s come back and fuck the other kid after we eat,” Sully announced. But then, as he was about to turn and walk into the dining room, he got an idea. With a new sense of purpose and while the bartender was turning off the tap on the keg, Sully walked briskly over to the fireplace which stood along the front wall of the shack, and removed a loose stone from its hearth. He then walked back to stand next to my still unconscious body, selected my left index finger, and then drove the stone down hard so he could smash my finger with it. Matt said he saw my entire body jump when the bone in my finger broke.

“Hey, what’d ya do that for, Sully?” the bartender asked with a measure of trepidation.

“Because I want this little son of a bitch to never forget what we do to smart-ass kids like him,” he snarled. “All right, let’s go eat.” The man then left my side and walked off into the dining room to enjoy his meal.

The crowd then, in general agreement with Sully’s proposal, followed this monster into the dining room.

As soon as the bar room was empty, Matt then got up onto his feet again and with beer now sloshing around in his tennis shoes, raced over quickly to see what my condition was. When he confirmed that I was still breathing, he ran to a pay phone near the front door and put a dime in to call our safe number for that night. After he heard a voice answer on the other end, Matt’s conversation was brief. And then he hung up the phone and returned to the ping pong table to be with me. At about this same time, the bartender returned from the dining room to see what he could do to help.

“You know I like a good poke with a boy as much as the next fellow does,” he said. “But doing what Sully did to this boy just isn’t right.”

“Well, help ought’a be here in a few minutes,” Matt replied as beer still dripped occasionally from his chin and hung like little yellow balls from the bottoms of his ear lobes. “Help me gather up his clothes and get ’em back on him, will ya?”

“Sure, kid. We want to get you two out of here before they finish their dinner and come back in here lookin’ for more.”

Apparently Matt and the bartender succeeded in getting me dressed and out of there before the society returned to the bar room, because when I came to, I found myself lying in the only bed there was in our little infirmary at the Academy. Matt, Mr. Stuart, and some doctor I had never seen before were standing around the bed and staring down at me with worried looks on their faces. As I became aware of myself, I realized that I had been banged up pretty badly, and my head and anal area, not to mention my finger, were in excruciating pain. “Uh… what happened?” I groaned. “Ow… ow my ass! And my head! And what happened to my hand? Oh my God, I’m never gonna be able to play the guitar again!” It was almost more than I could bear.

“There now, son,” the doctor tried to calm me down. “I just gave you a shot for the pain, so you should be feeling better in a few minutes.

With my left hand in a cast, I then raised my good hand to my head and felt a bandage wrapped around it. “What’s this for?”

“You took a nasty blow to the head and it opened the skin a little and was bleeding for a while. You didn’t sustain a fracture there, but I do think you have a concussion. So that’s why you feel the bandage. Also, you had some blood coming out of your rectum. I’m guessing that they caused a small tear somewhere inside you. So I’ve prescribed a mild laxative I want you to take for the next few days to keep your stools soft so we can give that tear a chance to heal. And then the cast on your arm is going to need to stay there for eight weeks. Your left index finger has a compound fracture. It was chewed up pretty bad by whatever hit it, but I think I did a decent job of putting it back together, so it should heal all right for you.”

“Am I gonna be able to play the guitar again?” I asked fretfully. “Well, you’ll probably have some scarring there, and you’ll need to do some special exercises with that finger once the cast is off. So I think it’s possible, but we’ll have to see for sure in eight weeks. Ok?”

“And what about Christmas break? How am I gonna go to Europe now?” I was feeling miserable.

“We’ll talk about that later, Clint,” Mr. Stuart said to me. And then my headmaster turned his attention to the doctor. “Thanks for coming out here tonight. It would have been a lot tougher on us if we’d had to take this lad to the hospital.” Mr. Stuart then began to usher the doctor out of the infirmary. “That’s ok, Don. You’ll get my bill,” the doctor joked. And then the two men left the room entirely and began to walk away from us along the hallway toward the lobby.

Now that we were alone, Matt felt as if he could speak to me, finally. “How are you feeling?” he asked quietly. His voice was filled with concern.

“Like shit,” I replied. “Did you get me out of there, or something?” I couldn’t figure out how everything had ended. “Yeah,” Matt replied. “I did.” “How?” I asked.

My roommate then told me all that had happened after I had lost consciousness, and then he apologized to me for not doing more.

“Are you kidding? You did great, Matt. You saved my life, maybe. Who knows what those bastards would have done to me next. Or to you.” I was proud of how my friend had kept his head and saved us both. And I told him so.

“Well, I think they’re gonna want you to sleep in here tonight,” Matt observed.

“I don’t know why. It’s not like they’ve actually got someone here to check on me or take care of anything for me if I need help.” So I tried to sit up, but immediately my body felt heavy and my head began to pound with pain and feel dizzy. “Oh, forget it.” I gave up quickly. “I don’t know what that doctor gave me, but I can sure feel it starting to work now. So, I guess I’ll just stay here for the night after all.”

At that moment Frank peered around the corner from out in the hallway, and then he stepped into the infirmary to join us. When we saw him standing there in his underwear with his hair all messed up, we could tell that he had gotten out of his bed to come downstairs and see what was going on with us. “Man, what happened to you?” Since it was past lights out by now, he was taking a chance of getting into trouble just for being out of his room at this hour.

“I got hit by a truck,” I answered quickly. Even though I wasn’t feeling all that well at the moment, I still knew to keep my mouth shut about what we had really been doing.

Matt then turned and looked at Frank. “Do you want to help us with something?”

“And how come you smell like stale beer?” Frank asked my roommate.

I must have had a look of fear in my eyes when I stared at Matt then, because his expression back to me seemed to indicate that he wanted me to stay calm.

“Look, we’ll talk later, but right now I need you to go and do something for me. Ok?” Matt was attempting to bargain.

Frank looked away at me for a moment, and then back at Matt again. “Ok,” he agreed.

“Great.” Matt then reached into his pocket and pulled out his key to our room. “Go over to our dorm and use this key to get into our room. Then from the bottom two drawers in the dresser, bring me back a clean pair of jeans, some underpants and a clean pair of socks. And then go into our closet and bring me back a clean shirt. My stuff is hanging on the left. Ok?”

“But…” Frank wanted more information on what this was all about.

“Everything I’m wearing right now is all messed up and I need clean clothes so I can spend the night in here.” Matt tried to convey a sense of urgency in his tone so he could end any further probes that Frank might think to make. “Now hurry up! Get going before Stuart gets back here.”

“All right,” Frank agreed as he took Matt’s key. And then our friend turned and left the infirmary as quietly as he had come in.

“You’re gonna spend the night in here?” I asked with some surprise. “Yeah,” Matt answered simply.

“Where?” There was only one bed in the infirmary and at the moment, I was using it.

“When Frank gets back I’m gonna have him help me bring in one of those big leather cushioned chairs from the library and I’ll sleep in that tonight.”

“But why?” Matt’s idea sounded so uncomfortable to me.

“You said it yourself. The Academy doesn’t have anyone to stay here with you tonight, so I’m gonna do it.”

“But…”

“Clint, listen! I’ve made up my mind on this. Now relax. Let the drug the doctor gave you do its job, and go to sleep. Ok?”

In my condition at the moment, it was clear to me that I was outnumbered. “Ok. Thanks, Matt.” I was too out of it by now to argue any further. I then could see my roommate smile at me faintly as I rolled my head and looked up at the ceiling. It was easier, I decided, just to do as he said.

The only other thing I can recall from that night was hearing Frank’s voice again when he returned with Matt’s clothes. “Here are some jeans, and a clean pair of underpants, and the other things you wanted. I don’t know if this is enough, though, to get rid of that stench of stale beer and cigarette smoke I can still smell on you.” Apparently Frank now figured that he was entitled to more information about what we had been up to.

After that I could hear my two friends continuing to talk while Matt disrobed in front of Frank. As they talked, I guess I must have passed out because I didn’t wake up again until nearly lunchtime the next day. And when I opened my eyes, I saw Matt slumped there next to me and dozing in one of the library chairs with a blanket over him. He had indeed spent the entire night by my side so he could look after me.

* * *

“Hey, wake up,” I said gently to my roommate. I then saw his eyes open, blink a few times and then look in my direction.

“Oh. Hi,” he responded in a sleepy voice. “How are you feeling?” And then my friend yawned.

“I don’t know yet. But I guess I’m hungry and I’ve gotta take a leak.”

“Oh really? Well that sounds like a good sign,” Matt said hopefully.

At this moment we heard a knock, and then Frank opened the door and peered into the infirmary at us. “Oh, good. Youz guys are awake now. I looked in a little while ago and youz two were still asleep.”

“Hey, Frank,” I replied.

“Hi, Frank.” Matt still sounded tired.

“Look, it’s almost lunchtime, so just stay here and I’ll bring youz guys your lunches. All right?” And then before Matt or I could say anything in response, Frank was gone again.

I then sat up and pulled the covers off of me. “Oh, my head,” I exclaimed as I put my right hand up to press it against the pain.

“Are you ok?” the sound of concern for my well-being was still with my friend.

“Yeah, J just need to take it easy, I guess. But just in case, will ya walk to the bathroom with me?”

“Yeah, sure.” Matt then threw the blanket off of him and stood up. “We can use the bathroom that’s off the library,” he assured me.

So feeling like an invalid, I stood up and put my good arm round my friend’s shoulder. Once we got going, though, I found that except for the pain I seemed to have everywhere, it wasn’t as hard for me to get around as I had thought it would be. As a result, in no time we had both done our business and reassumed our residence in the infirmary.

“Man,” I exclaimed once I was under the covers again. “It was nice to get up and walk around, but it’s nicer to be back in bed again.”

“Yeah well, you just plan to take it easy today. Things got pretty rough last night.”

“How many guys did you say raped me?”

“I counted nine,” Matt replied.

“Jeeze, you’d think they’d all be too embarrassed to rape a kid in front of everyone else like that.”

“Yeah, they were bare assed all right,” Matt then smiled at the pun he had just made.

I chuckled at my friend’s joke just as another knock came on the door and Mr. Stuart walked in. “Well, good morning, boys. How’s the patient?”

“Ok, I guess,” I responded blankly. Even though he was trying to be nice to me at the moment, I still thought of him these days as the enemy.

“And how are you, Ramsey?” Mr. Stuart asked my roommate.

“I’m ok,” Matt’s response showed an equal lack of enthusiasm for the man.

Our headmaster noticed our disinterest in him, but continued with what he had come to tell me anyway. “Yes, well.” He then sat down in one of the two other chairs which were there in front of my bed. “Anyway, this morning I arranged for a telex to be sent to your father, Clint.”

“Oh?” This news, of course, caught my attention. “What did you tell him?”

“Well, the doctor told me last night that he doesn’t want you to fly for the next few weeks as long as you’re recovering from that concussion. So I thought it best if I inform your parents about your accident and let them know that although you are ok and expected to recover fully, you won’t be able to join them for Christmas this year.”

This was not the news that I was expecting to hear and I was devastated by it. In just two days I was supposed to be flying to Europe to be with my parents. “No!” I shrieked. “I have to go! My dad sent me the tickets.”

“I’m sorry, Clint. There’s nothing I can do about this. It’s doctor’s orders.”

“What did you tell them happened to me?” Now I was concerned that my parents might be overly worried about me.

“Well I…” Our headmaster then shifted his weight in his chair and almost seemed nervous. “I told them you were involved in a minor traffic accident. I let them know of the injuries to your head and your finger, but I didn’t seethe need to worry them any further.”

I just stared at the man in disbelief. I didn’t want to give up my trip away from this place.

“Also,” Mr. Stuart continued, “the doctor said that as long as you have that cast on your arm, you need to limit your physical activity. So regardless of what anybody else says, I’m going to side line you until your cast comes off.” In telling me this, Mr. Stuart was hoping to improve my spirits. I guess he figured that if I knew I wasn’t going to be working for the next eight weeks, I’d feel better about not being able to see my parents.