Boarding School (42 page)

At that same moment, Frank walked into the infirmary with our lunches and heard the last part of what Mr, Stuart had just said to me. “What do ya mean side line? Soccer season’s over already. And he quit the team a long time ago.”

“Oh, that’s nice of you, DeVierno, to bring these boys their lunches today.” Mr. Stuart tried to intimate with his tone that he wanted Frank to give us our trays and then leave. But Frank wasn’t one to do something if he didn’t feel like doing it, and at the moment, Frank didn’t want to leave.

“If I can’t fly to be with my parents this Christmas, where the hell am I supposed to go?” The man’s proclamation about an eight-week break from work for me wasn’t changing my mood. I was still very upset over this situation.

“Well, I suppose you’ll have to go home with one of the other students. Like, what about Ramsey here?” Our headmaster then turned his head and looked at Matt.

“I’m from Michigan. Remember? I’m flying home for Christmas.”

“Oh, that’s right.” Personal information about his students—even his biggest money makers—was clearly an interest which the man did not possess. “Well there must be someone else you can spend the holiday with who lives close by and isn’t flying home.”

“Yeah,” Frank piped up. “You can come home with me. I’m not flyin’. My cousin’s comin’ up from New York in two days to drive me home. We can make room for you easy, Clint. And you’ll love it. My mom’s a great cook.”

At that moment I must have had an expression of disbelief on my face. This was all going too fast for me.

“No, really.” Apparently my lack of response caused Frank to feel as if he needed to make certain that I understood what it was that he was offering me. “You can come home with me for Christmas. I’ve got a place where you can sleep and everything.”

“Well that’s a terrific idea. Then it’s all settled.” Mr. Stuart then stood up again. It was clear that he was feeling uncomfortable with us in the small confines of this room. “I’ll make sure your parents know of your plans then, Clint.” And then Mr. Stuart looked at Frank. “DeVierno, why don’t you come with me now. I’ll let you call your mother from the phone in my office so you can let her know that you’re bringing Adams home with you for the holiday.”

“Yeah, ok. That’s a good idea.” Frank then followed our headmaster as he left the room. A moment later Matt and I were alone again.

I was almost in tears now. “Matt, I don’t know if I can take another five months in this place. The only thing that’s been keeping me going for the past month or so has been knowing that all of this was about to be over.”

Matt didn’t answer me right away. He just stared at the floor for a few moments as if he was absorbing everything that had just taken place. And then Matt looked at me and said something which to this day, I consider one of the most extraordinary acts of courage I have ever witnessed. “Well, if you can’t leave, then I’m gonna have to come back here after Christmas, too.”

My jaw dropped. “Matt, you can’t. We’ve already planned everything.”

“Yeah, and now our plans are all screwed up, so I have to come back.”

“No you don’t! Matt, even if I can’t get away, you still can. It’s suicide to come back here when you don’t have to. Do you realize that if you come back, you’re gonna have to keep giving blow jobs and being raped nearly every day until next summer?”

“I know what’s gonna happen to me. I haven’t been asleep for the past couple of months ya know. But Clint, I can’t leave here if I know you’re still having to go through all this crap.”

“Of course you can! Matt, don’t be an idiot. You’ve got a chance to get out of here finally. Don’t blow it for yourself just because you’re worried about me. Besides, Stuart would never make me go out alone.”

Now my roommate was mad at me for calling him an idiot. “You can’t depend on that. Besides, all he has to do is make one of the freshmen from our gang go out with you. It wouldn’t be the same as having me go along, but frankly I don’t think a lot of the people we see would care all that much.”

This was crazy. Somehow I had to talk some sense into this kid. “Matt, look. I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but…”

“Clint, that’s it!” My friend was now raising his voice at me as if he were a parent trying to discipline an unruly child. “We’re not talking about this anymore. I’ve made up my mind and that’s the end of the discussion. Now let’s eat lunch.”

And that was it. Any more protesting from me would only cause my friend to become even more angry with me, and considering all he had just done for me the night before, I didn’t have the heart to push him any farther on the matter. But I feared for his safety now. So far Matt had held up pretty well against the abuse we had both suffered through. But physically, Matt wasn’t as strong as I was. I wouldn’t say that he was frail, but he had a slight build and had never struck me as the type who could handle a sustained amount of rough treatment.

Two days later, the time had come for all of the students and the faculty to clear out of the Academy. Matt had arranged to share a taxi to Boston with a couple of other kids, and after we had said our good-byes to each other, he was suddenly out of my life. I had made a couple more attempts, after that morning in the infirmary, to convince him to stay away after the holidays, but my friend had a stubborn streak in him that I had never really noticed until now. So nothing I said to him was able to change his mind.

Frank’s cousin seemed nice enough. He was in his mid-twenties and was living on his own. He worked in an office somewhere in Manhattan and made enough money to afford the rent on a small efficiency apartment and to make his payments on the late-model Plymouth Fury he picked us up in. And throughout the entire trip down to New York City, he kept talking about what a big engine his Fury had.

Winter in Massachusetts that year, once we had returned from our Christmas break, was one of the coldest and snowiest seasons I can remember ever living through. The lake froze so solidly that closer to town, car races were held regularly on the ice. Also, in keeping with this change in the weather, our two day students traded their boats for snow mobiles and rode happily every day across the ice in order to get from their homes to the Academy and back again. And these boys were never content to leave their distinctive conveyances down by the dock. Because of the snow pack, which seemed to cover the ground for months, they chose instead every morning to pilot their noisy contraptions through the Annex parking lot and out onto the south road, past our dorm room window, around the tennis court and in through the front gate on the upper campus so they could park in the circle out in front of Ulster Hall. This act, though innocent in its intention, was torture for the rest of us. Throughout those weeks there wasn’t a red-blooded boy among us who didn’t gaze upon these gleaming snow machines every day with envy, and ache for an opportunity to jump onto one of them and take it for a long spin across the countryside.

Just as water sports in the lake had been forbidden during the fall for insurance reasons, ice skating and ice hockey were now banned as well. All winter long, the only recreation available to the student body was basketball and despite the fact that the wooden floor in the gym was severely warped in several places, the Academy did manage to suit up a varsity and a junior varsity basketball team that year. At first when the team practices were begun, it seemed as if every day at least two or three boys would get tripped up by the ripples in the floor and fall ass over tea cup onto their fronts. But before long, the Academy players grew used to these varnished waves and were able to travel up and down the court without so much as a stumble. This unique skill always worked quite nicely to the Academy’s advantage whenever a competing school would visit our campus to challenge our teams. Just the same, this unusual home court advantage was seldom enough to bring about a win for our teams. The reason why was because, quite frankly, the Academy was a school full of rejects. And although this characterization didn’t apply to every student on our campus, it just about did.

The questionable quality of our boarding population notwithstanding, the sport of basketball consumed our lives throughout that winter. Even Frank gave up his wise-guy persona long enough to get himself onto one of the teams. Christmas with his family had been a pleasant experience for me, plus a relief. They had all been very nice to me. Even though it was obvious once we had arrived that his family had little money to spare—Frank had received an ABC scholarship to attend the Academy—they indulged my needs any way they could to make sure that I was well taken care of. For instance, Frank’s mother, younger sister and grandparents slept in the three bedrooms of their little Brooklyn apartment, while Frank had a makeshift room set up for him out on the enclosed porch. Since I was his guest, and still recovering from my injuries, Frank gave me his bed and spent the entire time of our vacation sleeping on the couch in their living room.

Mrs. DiVierno was indeed a wonderful cook, and everyone in Frank’s family went out of their way to make me feel at home. There were many things about this family which impressed me, but what I found most striking was the strong bond I observed between Frank and his grandparents. I suppose I was sensitive to their relationship because of the fact that my own grandparents had long since passed away by this time in my life, and I missed them. I also noticed that away from the Academy, my host seemed more natural and at ease with himself than he normally did. For that matter, I suppose, I probably seemed more calm as well. Even so, I had taken two of Fatso’s specially modified cans of shaving cream with me in my luggage and throughout my stay I found no difficulty in keeping them out of sight so I could continue to medicate myself with the cocaine that was hidden inside of them. And when the time came for us to return to the Academy, Frank’s cousin brought around the Fury and drove us both back to Massachusetts.

Once we were back at school again, I found it sort of intriguing to watch Frank on the basketball court. Our break from the Academy had seemed to recharge his batteries. What I mean is, he was really trying to do well for a change. Or rather, he was now allowing everyone to see that he was actually trying. I think Frank always tried to do things to the best of his abilities, but I don’t think he ever wanted any of us to actually see that he cared about how he did. It was all part of that wise-guy, street-smart, Brooklyn kid persona he was always trying to project. But since I had become better acquainted with the guy over Christmas, it now seemed to me as if he no longer felt the need to maintain his tough guy facade. Or at least this was the impression I had of him at that time.

“Way to go, Frank!” Matt yelled one afternoon during the Academy’s first game of the season after our friend had caught a rebound off of the rim and then popped it back up for two points. My roommate had kept the promise he had made to me and had returned to the Academy after Christmas break. Although I still believed that he had made a terrible decision for himself by coming back, I was glad to have him with me again as I faced this new semester. Before or since, I have never known such loyalty in a friend. And for the first couple of weeks, at least, things for us were not all that bad.

Mr. Stuart had been sincere when he had said that I would not have to work until my cast was off. Matt and I had figured that straight away our headmaster would partner Matt up with one of the upperclassmen and then send them both off together to the Friendly Inn to resume their work as boy prostitutes, but instead my friend was left to kill time with me in the afternoons while I hung out in the gym mostly to watch our teams practice. At first neither of us understood the reason for Matt’s reprieve. The only thing we were able to observe was that the need for the Academy to sell Fatso’s huge stocks of cocaine, all of a sudden seemed paramount. Every one of the upperclassmen, including the leader, was leaving the school grounds every afternoon to sell as much of the drug as they could. Once they were gone, they were not returning to the campus most evenings until after dark. And this frenzied sense of urgency also affected our friends Juan and Carlos. The skills of these two were being pressed into service every afternoon now, while they continued to be flown down to the gulf coast most weekends to see to the needs of the other end of Fatso’s empire. By the time February rolled around, Matt and I were almost feeling guilty over the fact that we weren’t doing our share.

Just the same, it wasn’t easy living for Matt and me all the time. I don’t know if it was because of the weather which was keeping the faculty closer to the campus than usual, or if it was because the newness of our slavery was now worn off and a few of our teachers had decided that the time had come for them to avail themselves of the unique fringe benefits which came with being a teacher at the Academy. But Matt and I began to be summoned individually to perform sex acts with perhaps four members of our faculty, including Mr. Stuart.

One afternoon in particular stands out in my mind. Normally, to be discreet I suppose, we would go to the teacher’s dormitory apartment—or in the case of Mr. Stuart, his house—and then engage in the full range of our highly sought after skills to satisfy our teachers’ needs. But on this occasion, our headmaster had me show up at his office. At this time of the day, there were usually few people around on the first floor of Ulster Hall. Just the same, once he had closed his doors, he had me scrunch down under his desk so I would be out of sight in case someone happened to barge in on us.

When he was in his chair and seated so his legs were under the desk there with me, my training took over and I began by unzipping his pants. After that, I reached into his trousers with my good hand and pulled out his already engorged penis to where I could work on it. I then stroked him a few times with my fingers to see how far along he was—he was already pretty far along— and then I leaned forward, opened my mouth and began to go down on the head of our faculty.