Benworden (4 page)

“Once back in the boarding house, Tim could barely hold back his excitement and signalled with a nod of his head to John to meet him in the hallway.

‘What's going on?' said John.

‘You're not going to believe what I'm about to tell you, mate.'

“John was a very down-to-earth young man and liked conversations to be straight to the point. He couldn't stand it when others spoke in riddles. He turned his head to the side and frowned while at the same time lowering his eyebrows.

“How can I believe or not believe if you don't tell me what it is you're all excited about!”

“Tim continued raving, ‘It's amazing, it's incredible, it's, it's...'

“‘TIM!' growled John.

“‘Sssssh!' hissed Tim, like a tyre with a crook valve, ‘I don't want anyone to hear.'

“‘This is nuts!' snapped John. ‘I'm going back in to get something to eat!'

“Tim grabbed hold of John's jumper before he could walk away and explained, “No, no, listen. I found a tunnel. It's, it's... underneath us. It goes for miles.'

“‘You're kidding me!' John replied in disbelief.

‘I'm telling you mate, it's there, it's right under us.'

“John could see that Tim wasn't playing around and needed to pacify the situation before others became suspicious. ‘Ok, let's calm down and think this through but we're going to have to tell Fred and Dorothy about this. It's way too big for the both of us. If there's a tunnel down there like you say there is we've got to utilise it and no one else is to know about it, just the four of us. Do you understand?'

“‘Yes, you're right. We need to let them know as soon as
possible,' Tim said. He had now expelled most of his nervous excitement and could sense a new adventure was soon to begin.

“Once Tim, John, Fred and Dorothy had sat down and discussed the importance of this discovery they decided it needed to be kept a secret, and the best way to do this was to form a club with loyal members. So that's when they started the Bull Ants Club. Over time they and their successors closed off parts of the main shaft to create rooms which were later expanded to make even more. A cavity was found in the boarding house wall and inventive minds built a dumb waiter shaft, the same one we all take for our initiation. Meetings were (and still are) held every weekend to work out plans for the club's future, knowing that this was going to be their legacy to a very special select few who would continue to keep the ideals and traditions of the club that they began.

“Rules were written and log books and diaries were kept so that those who were to follow would understand the history and humble beginnings of the Bull Ant Club. From that moment on club members have worked diligently to keep up with and implement any new technological devices that will benefit the club and its members.”

On entering the foyer anyone would assume that kids had found an old mine shaft and set up a very basic cubby house, as I did on my arrival. This façade deterred anyone who discovered the initial club from thinking that it was anything more than what it seemed to be, and hopefully prevented them uncovering the elaborate complex that had taken years of work to set up behind it. When I first came and glanced around this all I saw were old wooden fruit boxes that had been laid on their side and piled against one wall with magazines and ornaments inside them, all covered in dust and cobwebs,
but what I didn't know was what lay behind the makeshift bookcase. It was connected to two old bank safe doors which had been converted into an entrance that led to ten elaborate rooms. Each room had a specific function.

On the bookcase there were seven button-sized panels which needed to be pressed to open the doors and if this wasn't done in a specific synchronized order the doors would remain locked and an alarm would go off.

The following weekend Josh took Geraldine and me on a tour of the whole site and I couldn't believe what I saw. Things had changed from those early days and as technology advanced so had the club rooms. The original entry to the shaft was excavated and concealed by an imitation rock doorway made of concrete which was built on rollers, and slid open quite easily once its locking mechanism was released. The entrance to the shaft was situated in parkland that could be accessed from the main highway and there was a small track that veered to the right and entered a picnic area and reserve. Further up the highway was a larger track that also went into the reserve but it veered to the left and was concealed from the highway by artificial conifers that opened and shut by remote. The picnic area was rarely used and when it was, it was mainly by travellers.

The side wall in the room with the fruit box bookcase was an imitation as well and divided the club rooms from the original mineshaft. This door could be opened from inside or out and it worked on a system of counterweights. Once a certain rock was pushed on either side of the wall the whole thing would elevate upwards, creating enough room to drive a large truck through. There was another one of these doors, only much smaller, which was located further up the shaft towards the
school. We used that when any of the members needed to access the headmaster's office.

Becoming a Bull Ant member had given my life new meaning, and I'm not ashamed to admit that I cried at the end of the year when Josh and Rebecca, our two year 12s, left us for university. I will be forever grateful to them for selecting me to become part of a club that helped shape who I am today.

4

M
Y
L
AST
Y
EAR

I
have watched students and teachers come and go and seen lots of new technology implemented in the club rooms over the past six years, but my last year at Benworden held more in store for me than I could ever imagine. It was more than just the club that made Benworden different – it was a combination of the teachers and students and as I think about this group of misfits a whole new wave of emotions flows over me.

Henry Gowdy was the headmaster of the Benworden School and he was a lean, small, balding man. I think he must only have had a couple of suits to his name as he rotated his navy blue pin-striped one with his plain brown one, but he compensated with a constant array of different bow ties. His shoes were always immaculately clean and if any of us were to accidently scuff them in any way there would be hell to pay.

I remember Tod Nichols running past him on a wet winter's day and splashing spots all over Mr Gowdy's shoes. Poor old Tod spent the week on yard duty, while old Gowdy glared at him from his window.

Mr Gowdy was old-fashioned and carried a fob watch with a gold chain attached which he tucked away in his vest pocket. He often pulled it out whenever we were late and then peered over the top of his glasses in the most chilling manner. Time had stood still for him when it came to keeping up with fashion, yet he had an amazing aura – although he wasn't a tall
man he could make you feel like he could hold you in the palm of his hand and crush you anytime he wanted to.

His office was like an extension of himself; no one wanted to go near it as students only went there when summoned for a misdemeanour. It was as antiquated as he was, and carried that same fearful aura. As you entered, a chill ran down your spine and you felt like you were in a room out of a Charles Dickens novel.

The first thing that caught the eye was a huge mahogany desk at the rear of the room. It sat in front of an enormous arched window where we would often see Mr Gowdy standing erect with his hands behind his back, peering out like a hawk poised to attack and snatch up an unsuspecting field mouse.

On his desk sat a small silver tray and on the tray was a pen and pencil set that stood upright beside a square silver calendar with black and white numbers that could be changed by little winders. Next to the tray was a small jar filled with rubber bands and paper clips and it sat beneath a brass lamp with a green glass shade.

Behind the desk was his big brown leather chair. It was well-worn with the odd button missing, and due to its age there was some cracking beginning to appear in the leather as well. The left wall was almost covered by an enormous original tapestry that depicted the monastery in its younger years, while on the other wall stood an old timber bookcase.

The lower shelves had books that were used frequently. Those on the top shelf, however, hadn't been touched in years, and one of those books wasn't an original. It had been placed there by the club and contained a small surveillance camera and microphone.

Over the door was a coat of arms depicted on a timber shield, reminding Mr Gowdy of his family history and that a speck of royal blood ran through those cold arteries of his.

The man had a strong connection to the school, in fact, in his youth he had once been a boarder at Benworden. His parents were extremely wealthy and mixed in all the elite social circles of their day. His mother had been the head of the Country Women's Association and his father was a surgeon.

As a child he was given everything by his parents and he had a tendency to look down his nose at the other students. He was constantly running to the teachers telling them who was up to what and many of the students wouldn't include Mr Gowdy in their games or social gatherings because of his attitude: if he couldn't be the leader or the head of a group he would find some way of getting the other students into trouble. but more than any other issue he had with other students was his fear of being left out.

He always felt that there was some sort of secret society, gang or group that had excluded him and he spent a lot of time obsessing over exposing this group that had so long evaded his detection. Although he didn't know it, that group was the Bull Ants, and he always vowed that if he found them he would permanently put an end to their shenanigans and make them rue the day they had rejected and excluded him.

Mr Gowdy's secretary's name was Zahra Fickle, and although she was very much of a stickler for protocol and a bit of a busybody, she had a gentle and caring soul which she shielded from the outside world. Miss Fickle had never married but she loved kids; she was also the first aid officer and doted over the students when they hurt themselves. Mr Gowdy resented the care and attention that she gave these ‘brats', as
he called them, but this didn't deter her from what she felt was her duty to those who needed her most.

It isn't hard to describe Miss Fickle. She was a very lanky lady, much like those white herons you often see near lakes or lagoons, and she had a rather long neck with a pencil-like nose. In summer she usually wore long, flowing, floral dresses, while in winter she'd wear tight slacks with woolly cardigans. She always wore high heel shoes.

Miss Fickle loved her two little Maltese-cross Shiatsu dogs, Molly and Lippy, and was often seen walking them down Main Street on weekends. Her other love was her job and she was very good at it, but her biggest worry came from the way that Mr Gowdy growled at the kids. She felt it destroyed their self-esteem.

She'd stopped speaking to him on these matters, however, as one time she had made a comment on his harshness and he had bellowed at her, “Mind your business!” He'd growled that there were plenty of others that could do her job just as well as she could.

I think he knew there weren't many who would put up with his domineering behaviour, but by saying things like that he made her feel insecure, which helped him retain her for the position.

Nevertheless, even though their characteristics were like chalk and cheese it was still plain to see that there were warm feelings between them (although many would say that Mr Gowdy was so heartless that if you stuck a sharp needle in him he wouldn't feel a thing!). Miss Fickle would be there at his beck and call wherever and whenever he needed her, and whenever they couldn't agree on a matter and push came to shove, he would often give in to her – even though he would
often say later that it was his idea originally.

My time spent at Benworden from years 7 to 11 were demanding but definitely enjoyable, and I never once regretted the decision to send me there. I particularly loved being a member of the Bull Ants Club, so I was thrilled when, at the start of year 12, I became one of the two leaders of the club. However, I had no idea that it was going to be one of the most difficult years in the club's long history.

The Bull Ants team consisted of 12 members: two representatives each from years 7,8,9,10,11 and 12. The two year 12 members held the honour of high command and this honour was passed onto the two year 11s on graduation day.

Each member was assigned duties that befitted the year they were in and they were put through rigorous training by the members from the year above. This then prepared them for the following year.

We had all gone through an initiation process and when it was completed a ceremony was held in which we were given club names by the leaders.. The club names didn't have to be used but were engraved on the back of the club rings. The names represented acceptance and acknowledgment that we were connected to a group that saw us as part of their family.