Crowam 281 (15 page)

In the middle of the fire, a figure was tied to a post. The smell of burning flesh stung my nostrils. I shoved Hannah, shocked by what I saw. I saw myself on that post, my face burned, my skin melting. The odor of burning flesh hurt my eyes.

The chants intensified. The boys surrounded me. I screamed as loud as I could, but it only delighted them further. Suddenly, a hand grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled me out of the horrid scene.

“Jake!” the voice echoed. I opened my eyes to find Thomas hunched over me. “Jake, are you alright?”

I found myself in my bed and a pool of sweat. I breathed like I just ran a marathon. “Christ, it was a dream,” I said.

“That must have been quite the dream. Your scream woke me up.”

“You heard that?”

“Yes.”

I sat trembling on the edge of the bed, still reeling from the dream.

“It’s alright now. It’s over,” Thomas said. His voice was soothing and reassuring.

“I never had a dream like that before.”

“What was the dream?”

“There was a fire with people dancing around it. I saw myself burning in the middle of the fire. I saw Mr. Hugo. He was some sort demon, Thomas. There was Hannah.”

“The nurse?”

“Yes. She was naked.”

“My. I never knew Dickens could bring about such a dream.”

“I don’t think Dickens could stir up such a dream.”

“You’ll be surprised at what your imagination can contrive.”

“What do you think the dream means?”

“It’s hard to say. Perhaps it’s a manifestation of your own fears. Fear of Mr. Hugo, of death, or perhaps of love itself.”

“Love of Hannah?”

“Perhaps. There could be a number of things you can interpret from the dream. But that’s neither here nor there. It’s best we tidy up the room. We have inspection in a few minutes.”

“Inspection?”

“Yes. I heard some of the guards across the hall while you were asleep. They examined Owen and Charles’s room first, so they were able to give me the heads-up.”

“Is this your first inspection?”

“It’ll be a first for both of us, I’m afraid.”

Thomas and I scrambled to clean the room as best we could. We made our beds and removed dirty clothes and other items from the floor. We even dusted the room so even the Queen would appreciate it. We heard a bang on the door.

“Open up. Inspection,” the voice yelled.

We opened the door. Two guards barged in, shoving Thomas aside.

One of the guards had a thick, curly mustache that twirled on the ends. “Alright, you bastards. I’m Captain Longwood. This is your routine room inspection. I expect this room to be spotless. Any sort of violation will count as a demerit. Three demerits and you’ll re-clean the entire room before another inspection. If you fail the second inspection, you will lose dormitory privileges until I feel you appreciate the value of a fine and clean dormitory. Is that understood?” Captain Longwood spoke with a fast and authoritative tone under a heavy British accent that almost sounded like Old English. Longwood was a drill instructor for the British army before he was discharged for insubordination. He had a habit of hitting subordinates for the most trivial of reasons, the most trivial when he nearly strangled an eighteen-year-old recruit to death for not cleaning his socks properly. He was a stickler for details, which would make these sorts of inspections all the more interesting.

Captain Longwood and the other guard meticulously inspected the room, looking for anything out of the ordinary. “What’s this?” Longwood yelled, pointing at my bed.

“A bed, sir.” I said.

“Don’t you get smart with me you son of a bitch. What is this?” He grabbed a piece of lint, nearly sticking it in my nostril.

“Looks like lint, sir.”

“You’re absolutely right. This is lint, you filthy unappreciative bastard. Think it’s alright to leave the room like a pigsty, don’t you? Why, you’re just a regular little piggy leaving a mess in your bloody wake. Do you like to live in filth?”

“No sir.”

“No! Are you calling me a liar?”

“But sir?”

“But what? Are you objecting to my critique of your filthiness?”

“No, sir.”

“Oh, so I’m a liar now. You no good piece of excrement, I ought to put you in the hole till you lose your bloody mind. Demerit!”

The other guard handed me a pink slip. “Alright. Let us see what else we can find in this pigsty.”

Captain Longwood tore our room apart looking for so much as dust on a closet doorknob. I think we got seven demerits from dust alone. “What in bloody hell is this?” Captain Longwood picked up a copy of
Hamlet
from a stack of books underneath Thomas’s bed.

“It’s
Hamlet
, sir,” Thomas said.

“I can bloody well read, you no good piece of excrement. What are these books doing here?”

“Just for pleasure reading, sir.”

“Pleasure reading? Did you hear that, Boris? Pleasure reading. Why, we have ourselves an academic. I didn’t realize you were here to have any sort of pleasure.”

“Nobody said I couldn’t have them, sir,” Thomas said.

Captain Longwood raised his hand and slapped Thomas across the face. Thomas’s cheek turned red. The smack was loud and hard. “Don’t you talk back to me, you good for nothing piece of filth. I should rip you a new
arsehole
right here, right now. Then I’ll go ahead and burn these books of yours. Why I bet you would like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Please sir. They’re all I have,” Thomas said.

“Why, they’re all you have?” Longwood pinched Thomas on his red cheek. “Isn’t that adorable. I bet you jackoff to these bloody books don’t you? You must get off on reading good old
Hamlet
. Shakespeare would be mighty proud.”

I could tell Thomas wanted to cry. He held it in all he could, but his tears started dripping down his cheeks.

“Why, you’re crying? You little girl, you’re crying!”

“Leave him alone will you? He hasn’t done anything.”

The man’s eyes grew red, resembling a gasket ready to explode. “Why you…”

“What’s the trouble here?” Mr. Hugo asked as he entered the room.

“Nothing, sir. Nothing we can’t handle,” Longwood said.

“I heard shouting. What is the trouble?”

“These two lads have seven demerits between them, sir. They’re being uncooperative, even threatening Boris and I for giving them demerits.”

“That’s a lie! We didn’t threaten anybody!” I yelled.

“Quiet!” Longwood yelled. Captain Longwood showed Mr. Hugo the copy of
Hamlet
. “They have books, sir!”

Mr. Hugo picked up the copy of
Hamlet
. “Are these yours?” Mr. Hugo asked Thomas.

“Yes they are.”

Mr. Hugo flipped through the book, stopping at a page. “‘Though this be madness, yet there is method in it,’” Mr. Hugo quoted and smiled. He shut the book and gave it to Thomas. “I see nothing wrong with educating oneself in the realm of great literature, Captain Longwood.”

“Yes, sir,” Longwood barked.

“Make sure they clean their room and let them be. Remember, they are our guests, let us treat them as such.”

“Yes, sir!” Captain Longwood barked again, like the good drill sergeant he was.

Captain Longwood kicked some of Thomas’s books back underneath his bed on his way out. Thomas picked up
Hamlet
again, holding the book against his chest.

“You alright?” I asked.

“I thought he was going to take them away from me.”

“What, your books?”

“Yes. I don’t know what I would have done without them.”

“Just don’t leave them hanging around. I hid Dickens in my shoebox.”

“Mr. Hugo seems not to mind my books,” Thomas said.

“I wouldn’t trust with what Mr. Hugo says.”

“Trust is a hard thing to come by these days.”

“You can trust me.”

“Yes, you are a good friend. A fine friend.”

One night, Hannah brought me to a small balcony that overlooked the English countryside. The balcony was located in the northern part of Crowam, an unused section mainly reserved for storage. The balcony was small, but enough for both of us. The night was cool. The countryside remained barren due to the winter. It was cold. I held Hannah underneath our blanket. We admired the view from the balcony.

“This is nice isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Jake?”

“Yes?”

“What are you thinking about?”

I was caught off-guard by the question. The vagueness of it confounded me, yet reminded me how one can loose track of his own thoughts and how we don’t pay attention to the little details our minds gravitate to. I gave an honest answer. “I guess I’m thinking about what I am going to do when I leave this place.”

Hannah shoved me away and went to the corner of the balcony, leaning against the rail.

“What’s wrong?”

“I should have never asked you that.”

“What were you expecting me to say?”

“All you boys are the same.”

I went to Hannah and grabbed her hand. “Why don’t you come with me?”

“What?”

“When I leave, you can come with me. We can go back to America, to New York. I could show you a great time. Broadway shows, the Yankees, the food. Thomas said he would go. The three us. New York couldn’t handle us.”

Hannah appeared disturbed, offended by the suggestion. “Jake, I don’t think I would be able to go with you.”

“Why?”

“Because I have responsibilities here. I can’t just leave. This is my home.”

“Your home? Hannah, this isn’t a home. This is a prison, a prison for bastards.”

“Crowam may have its imperfections, but it does serve its purpose.”

“You’re full of it,” I said.

“I’m full of it? Look at you. Talking about going to America and living the so-called American dream. I’ve heard that song and dance before. It’s just for the movies.”

“Hannah, I want you to come with me.”

She stood alone at the edge of the balcony, gazing out into the night. “When my brother died, I left home because I couldn’t bare living there anymore. I was alone, frightened. But when Mr. Hugo found me, he took me in. Took care of me. Even paid for my education to become a nurse. He’s the closest thing I have to family. I wouldn’t feel right just leaving him. In a way, I owe him.”

“Hannah, you don’t owe him anything.”

“Perhaps, but I do believe in loyalty. If more people were loyal, you wouldn’t have so many boys without parents. Perhaps the war would have never happened if loyalty were more of a virtue. Maybe my parents would have actually given a damn about my brother and I.

“Hannah, come with me.”

She paused for a moment, looking out again into the wilderness. “Why don’t we just live in the present and forget about what may happen tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow will eventually come. You can’t ignore it.” I held her in my arms again as the night became colder.

Everybody has a routine. The routine at Crowam was getting old pretty fast. They woke us up, usually around 7:00am. We would have breakfast, exercise, attend classes, a break in the courtyard, dinner, house cleaning duties, then off to bed only to do the same thing the next day.

Crowam, well, was ordinary yet disturbing at the same time, like a creature you suspected was lurking in the shadows. Even if you’re unsure of its motives, you know it’s there. I grew tired of Crowam, of Mr. Hugo, the Bus Driver, and, at one point, the friends I made there. I would have given anything for some privacy, to be alone with my thoughts.

During one late afternoon, my desperation reached a new level. We went out for another run around the grounds of Crowam. I stayed behind the pack with Charles, Thomas, Owen, and Felix in front. I waited for an opportunity to make a break for it, to dash into the woods and escape this God forsaken place. I felt apprehensive, unsure of when to make the move. The guards were around us, moving around us to ensure we fall behind.

Ahead of us a boy named Danny Tomlin collapsed to the ground, falling to the floor like a stack of hay. I was surprised. He was in the best shape of all of us. The group gathered around him while the guards and the PE instructor aided the boy.

"Alright, let the boy breathe will you!" the instructor yelled.

"What do you think happened?" Owen asked.

"Probably dehydration," Felix said.

I moved back toward the forest. "Hey," I whispered.

"What are you doing?" Felix asked.

"Come on!" I said.

"What are you doing? Get back here!" Felix said.

"Come on, now's our chance, while they're distracted," I said.

"Don't be a fool. They'll find you," Owen said.

"Not if we leave now," I said.

"Do you know what will happen to those left behind if you leave?" Felix said.

I became tired of Felix’s lecture. I left them behind and sprinted into the forest. I came across some thick brush. I felt something pull at my shirt. I nearly fell over. "Damn it man, you can't do this!" Felix said.

"Why the hell not?"

"You selfish bastard. Don't you even care about anyone but yourself?"

"I care about getting the hell out of here. This is our shot."

Charles appeared behind Felix. "What are you two doing? They'll be looking for us. It looks like Danny is coming, too."

"Jake,” Felix said. “Think about what you're doing."

"I know what I'm doing. We have a chance for all of us to get the hell out of here. Doesn't that mean something to you?"

"Not if it endangers the lives of the other boys."

Charles became increasingly anxious. "Please, hurry."

Felix lost his typical charm and humor. Instead, he showed his disdain for my willingness to escape Crowam despite the consequences. Felix and Charles went back and rejoined the rest of the group.

I ran a bit further into the forest before I felt an awful pain in my stomach. It was like a sledgehammer hit me in the chest. I couldn't go any further. I never felt guilt before, not like this. It could have been so easy to run. I could have made it home free. Yet, I was trapped by guilt. My own conscious served as a prison within a prison. Hannah came to mind. Would she understand that I had to leave?
Why wouldn’t she come with me?
I asked to myself.