Crowam 281 (14 page)

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Authors: Frank Nunez

BOOK: Crowam 281
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I saw some of the other boys drift off. Mr. Vanden would grab his trusty ruler and smack each sleeping boy upside the head. You could tell he took pleasure in it, just as much pleasure as talking about Lennon gave him. "Gentleman. I have the results of your assessments. The purpose of the assessment was to determine your field of occupation once you leave here. I think you'll find the assessment enlightening.” Vanden went by each student with his clipboard, one by one blurting out one menial job after another. Tom made out as a mechanic. How the idiot got that is beyond me. I wouldn’t trust him with fixing a tinker toy let alone an engine.

Vanden finally made it to me. "Ah Mr. Hudson. Let us see here." He examined his sheet of paper. He grinned with pleasure, enjoying his inquiry of my destined occupation. “Well, well, we have ourselves a garment worker. How quaint.”

“Garment worker?”

“Why yes.”

“Why a garment worker?”

“You shouldn’t question my assessments Mr. Hudson. I created them myself. The exam is based on complicated matrixes and calculations that you will not understand. You’ll be a true worker.”

“What if I don’t want to be a garment worker?”

Vanden didn’t like my questions. He got all flustered, moving his head awkwardly through sheer frustration. “We each have our role, our destiny in society.”

“Perhaps I am naïve when it comes to the ways of the world, but who the hell are you to tell anyone of us what our destiny is? What if we want to become a writer, doctor, maybe a circus clown, hell, anything? But it’s our choice, not yours or anybody else’s.”

The class erupted. The boys lashed out at Vanden, declaring their disgust for their predetermined occupations. “I don’t want to be a bloody mechanic!” Tom yelled, nearly knocking his desk over as he stood up. The others boys declared their independence.

It was pure anarchy in Professor Vanden’s class. Mr. Vanden went for his ruler. But I smacked it out of his hand. “It’s our choice,” I said. I stood over him, he backed away slowly to the rear of the classroom, as we behaved like boys who wanted to raise hell and piss off authority.

 

Later that day, I was back in Mr. Hugo’s office. Two guards watched me as I waited outside the hall. I could hear Professor Vanden screaming in Mr. Hugo’s office. He was mad. It felt good knowing I pissed him off. I could hear it in his voice.

The door exploded open when Mr. Vanden exited the office. He looked at me with disgust. I could tell he truly detested me. That made me feel good.

The two guards grabbed me by the arms and shoved me in the comfortable chair in the office, leaving me with Mr. Hugo. There wasn’t a hint of expression on his face. His hands sat folded on his desk I noticed his fingers were long and wiry as they wrapped over each other like snakes rolling over themselves in some sort of pit in a God forsaken jungle. For a moment, we said nothing to each other, as if we were waiting for the other to say something first. I decided to make the first move. “So what’s it going to be?”

“Silence!” His scream was monstrous, yet precise. It was directed at my confidence. I nearly jumped out of my seat. The scream did not require much effort, but it was the first time I saw Mr. Hugo showing any emotion. I felt uncomfortable in his presence. I wanted to leave, but couldn’t. “I see you don’t like Professor Vanden’s class.”

I was afraid to answer him, not wanting to hear him yell again. Teachers yelled at me before, but not like Mr. Hugo. It scared the hell out of me. “You’re unsatisfied with the quality of education we offer at Crowam?”

“I guess I’m not much of an academic.”

Mr. Hugo got up from his chair and looked out his office window. “At Crowam, we try to shape young minds, mold them to be good citizens, teaching them their place in society.”

“What a crock of s**t,” I whispered.

“What was that?” Mr. Hugo approached me, his face only inches from mine. “Are you looking to try me Mr. Hudson?”

When I looked into his eyes, there was an inexplicable lack of emotion or empathy. I shivered, knowing that I was staring into the face of evil. Then he went to look out the window again. “Would you like to leave, Mr. Hudson?”

“What?”

“Would you like to leave?”

“I actually have a choice?”

“You stressed the importance of choice in Professor Vanden’s class. I think we should put it to the test. You have a choice. If you don’t like your stay at Crowam, you’re more than welcome to leave.” The guard opened the door. “The guard can escort you out.”

I got up and walked out the door. The guard escorted me out to the main entrance of Crowam. He opened the steel doors. I made my way outside. Charles, Felix, Thomas, Owen and the rest of the boys were at the opposite end of the courtyard with several guards keeping watch.

“I told you I would get you back, boy.” The Bus Driver stood in front of the exit of Crowam, which included a large steel gate with a statute of a gargoyle on each side. “You’re not leaving here so easily. You’ll have to get through me first.”

I looked behind me. The entrance door was open. There was Mr. Hugo’s lesson on choice. I could have ran back like a coward, in front of the populace of Crowam or take my chances with the Bus Driver. I charged toward him like a raging bull, throwing myself at his mid torso. He picked me up by the shoulders and tossed me to the ground. The ground was hard and cold. Pain shot up my back. I got back up and began wailing at him. My fists landed on that big beer belly of his, which felt like I was punching granite. With every punch, he chuckled. I lowered myself and punched what felt like a bundle of genitalia. That’s when the laughter ceased.

I didn’t even see it coming. I should have. His hands were heavy and massive. The back of his hand landed on the left side of my face. I fell to ground again in agony. My face felt like it was on fire.

“Come on, you can do better than that,” he said.

I felt like crying. I laid there on the ground ready to cry like a fool. I could feel my eyes become watery. I fought against the tears. I wouldn’t let him get the best of me. I was filled with embarrassment and rage.

I picked myself up again. I charged at the Bus Driver again. He cocked back and threw a straight jab. I landed on the ground in a blur. I felt blood run down my face. The Bus Driver laughed, the ground hard and cold. The fight, if that’s what you even want to call it, was over and so was my lesson on choice.

 

There was a certain early morning quality to the day, even though it was early afternoon, where you still felt lethargic until something worth a damn happens. I don’t remember much after the fight. I panicked a bit when I saw blood on my shirt. For a moment, I thought I was dead. There were some figures around me that I couldn’t decipher. I heard some voices, again indecipherable.

When I finally came to, I was inside Hannah’s office. The guards plopped me on the examination room. I thought if I wasn’t dead I was going to die at any moment. My body ached, especially my face. I touched my cheeks and noise. My fingers were stained with blood.

I went over to the sink and splashed some water on my face. I looked up at the mirror. My face was bruised. Blood dripped out of my nose. I thought my nose was broken. I rinsed my face again to wash off the blood and dirt. My whole body was covered with dirty and mud. I felt absolutely filthy.

I was embarrassed to see Hannah in my condition. I took off my sweater and splashed some water underneath my arm pits. I cleaned my sweater the best I could. My stomach felt horrible. I hated feeling this way, feeling vulnerable and unsure of myself. I saw the door open.

Hannah entered the examination as if she expected to see me in this condition. But she stilled showed some concern for my well-being. “What on earth happened to you?”

“I fell down the stairs.”

“Don’t lie to me. I know that’s not what happened.”

“Then why did you ask?”

“You’re such a stubborn bastard, aren’t you?”

I began feeling dizzy again. I almost felt like fainting. She noticed my disorientation. “For God’s sake, sit down Jake.” Hannah helped me back onto the examination table. She got gauze, bandages, and rubbing alcohol from the cabinet behind her. She affectionately ran her hand down the side of my face, her smooth hand soothed my pain. “Who did this to you?”

“The Bus Driver.”

“Why?

“Let’s just say it was Mr.Hugo’s way of teaching me a valuable lesson on choice.”

Hannah said nothing. She examined my noise, wiping the blood off of it. She stuffed it with cotton to stop the bleeding. “Keep this there for a few minutes. My goodness, you’re lucky your nose isn’t broken.”

“Aren’t I the lucky one.”

“Lucky you are. That monster of a man could have killed you.”

“Nah. I would have held my own. I was just taking it easy on the guy. Didn’t want to embarrass him.”

“This isn’t some joke, Jake. He could have killed you. I’ve seen him…” She bit her tongue and kept on bandaging my face. Her face was consumed with concern.

“Don’t you remember anything we talked about?”

“Why do you care about what happens to me? You don’t even know me.”

“I don’t know. I just don’t want to see you get hurt. You’re a good man Jake. Besides, you understand me. I enjoy talking with you. I don’t get the chance to talk with many people these days..”

She finished working on my face. “Jake?”

“Yes?”

“Can I see you tonight?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why?”

“I feel a little under the weather. Tell you the truth, I feel like a truck ran over me.”

“I understand if you don’t want to see me tonight after your ordeal. But I feel it’s been ages since I last saw you. I want to see you. Will you reconsider? I am a nurse, after all. I can nurse you back to health. Look at tonight as a checkup.”

“Is that doctor’s orders?”

Her smile was seductive and cunning. “Yes it is, Jake.” I left Hannah’s office, still feeling nauseous.

 

After pots and pans duty, I freshened up and went to meet Hannah. I wasn’t feeling nauseous anymore, but the left side of my face still hurt. I snuck past the guards again and made it to the nurse’s office.

The door was already open. I discreetly closed the door. The office was dark again. “Hannah?” I whispered.

No one answered. I turned on the office light, thinking I would find Hannah standing there. She wasn’t. I looked around for her, whispering her name. Nothing. I noticed the door that led to the attic was already open. “You must be upstairs,” I said to myself.

The wood steps beneath my feet creaked as I made my way upstairs. There was an ambient orange glow at the top of the stairs. When I reached the attic, Hannah was standing near the wooden table. The bottle of wine half finished, reflecting the wood of the table on its sides.

Her hair was wavy. I could smell her perfume from where I stood. She wore the same dress as before, but every time she wore it was like the first time. “Come here, Jake,” she said.

I walked to her, my heart beating relentlessly. We stared at each other. I held her close, my hands caressing her back. We kissed, slowly at first, then passionately and deep. I could taste her wet lips. She pressed herself against me. Her body was firm, I lusted for her more with every kiss.

I kissed her behind her neck, her breath intensified as I made my way down her exposed cleavage. I pressed her against me as firmly as I could. I kissed her breasts, her chest heaving with excitement. I kissed and caressed them. Her moaning aroused me, encouraging me for more. I unbuttoned her dress. I was having difficulty with each button, my fingers fumbled. I had no idea what I was doing.

She stepped back and took off her dress, sliding it right off to the floor. She was left only wearing blue panties and stockings. It was the first time I ever saw a naked woman before, unless nudie magazines counted.

I was overwrought by seeing her naked, her sexuality ignited my youth and vigor. “Take these off of me,” she asked.

I came to her. I slid her panties off. I took off my clothes. Both of us stood there naked. We began kissing again. I felt myself trembling a bit. I knew she felt it.

“What’s wrong?” Hannah asked.

“Nothing.”

“Oh, come on.”

“Well.”

“What is it? Tell me.”

“This is my first time.”

Hannah grinned, rubbing her hands on my chest. “I’m your first time?”

“Yes.”

“Are you nervous?”

“A little.” At that moment, I never felt so vulnerable in my entire life. I wasn’t holding anything back, but it felt right with Hannah. We held each other in our arms. We kissed again, as passionately as before. We made love that night, holding nothing back. For a moment, we left the troubles of Crowam behind us.

Chapter 18
It was nighttime, pitch black. It almost seemed like I was in outer space or some empty void that lead to nowhere. I felt dizzy, unsure of where I was even standing. I felt a strange sensation like I was falling into an abyss.

The falling sensation stopped. I stood on a flat surface. In the distance, I could hear chanting. The chants primitive and raw and mundane. I saw a light in the distance that grew larger, as if it was moving towards me. I could begin to make out the light. It was a fire. The wood sticks thick and coarse burned and encouraged the blaze. Dancing around the fire were these figures whose faces were blanketed by the shadows and peculiar aura of the surrounding space. It appeared to be a ceremony or celebration of sorts. What they were celebrating wasn’t decipherable from my vantage point.

Near the fire stood a figure taller than the rest. His face was horrid, his eyes dark, his face spelled inexplicable evil. He stood awkwardly, as if he was on stilts, conducting the ceremony and played host to the occasion. I got close enough to witness the full ceremony. I didn’t recognize the faces, but there were boys, dancing around the fire, chanting unspeakable things that felt demonic in nature. I felt terrified for my life. I wanted to leave but couldn’t.

The tall figure looked at me and smiled with blackened teeth. Its faced morphed into Mr. Hugo’s. From behind him, Hannah emerged naked. The chants grew louder. I suddenly found myself naked. Hannah and I kissed. Our bodies were pressed against one another. We kissed intensely, but it wasn’t the same kind of passion we felt in the attic of Crowam. This was something sinister and wrong.

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