Crowam 281 (8 page)

Anyway, his attempt at humor fizzled out pretty quickly. The drone of noise from the other boys ceased as they ran out, like animals scurrying when a dangerous predator was approaching.

“Hey Yank.” The voice was clear, ringing in my ears. I knew who it was. Some people handled pain a little differently. Some people cried and moaned. Others held it in. Some people even enjoyed the pain. The pain from Tom’s punch landing on my face felt sort of good in a twisted sort of way. He punched me hard. It knocked me back a bit. My head hit the green tiled wall behind me.

I threw a punch back, hitting him in the jaw, giving him a slight bruise, but the bastard had an iron jaw. I didn’t’ mind fighting, except I’m naked and he and the other boys wore shorts. The two other boys hit me in the back of the head. I started getting lightheaded, losing my bearings. The two boys grabbed me by the arms. I tried fighting back, but this time the pain got the best of me. “How are you enjoying your shower, Yank?”

“Go fuck yourself.” The room went black after Tom’s final punch. The last thing I remembered was falling to the ground in a sea of laughter. I don’t remember how long I was out before I came to. I began opening my eyes when I saw Charles standing over me.

“Jake, Jake are you alright? Say something.” Charles voice just irked me. I almost wanted to go back to sleep. When I awoke I found myself in a puddle of blood. Owen Stood behind Charles. Charles was wearing a towel, but somehow still exposed himself to me.

“Would you put some clothes on!”

Charles and Owen helped me up.

“Are you ok?” Owen looked genuinely terrified.

“I’m alright.”

“You took a hell of a shot to the head,” Charles said.

“Courtesy of my best pal, Tom.”

“That giant ignoramus,” Charles said.

Owen grabbed a towel that hung on the towel rack and wrapped it around a wound near my eye. I struggled to regain my balance. They helped me to a nearby stool. “How are we feeling?”

“Like hell, but thanks for asking.”

“We should take you to the nurse,” Owen said.

“I’m exhausted. I just want to go to bed.”

“You should have that wound looked at,” Owen said.

“I’ll be fine.” I made a makeshift bandage out of some dry towels. Thomas was sound asleep. The pain of my lost battle put me right to sleep.

“Good lord, what happened to you?” Thomas said as he woke up.

“Rough night last night.”

“How did
that
happen? You should have that looked at.”

I should have listened to Owen. I was just too tired. My head was throbbing. My face felt like a giant wound, bleeding from the seams.

I sat in the examining room, waiting for the nurse to arrive. A packet of ice and some gauze covered my wound. There was another boy waiting outside complaining of having diarrhea, most likely a symptom of food poisoning from the meals they served us, which could have been dog food for all I knew. I believe I saw him go to the bathroom at least three times since waiting there. Every time he opened the door leaving the bathroom, an odor, something awful, escaped into the open air. I had to cover my nose and mouth so I wouldn’t pass out from what could be confused for mustard gas.

The door creaked open. A petite blond entered, with blue eyes and pearly white teeth. She didn’t look too much older than me. I felt at ease when she came in. “How are we feeling today, Mr. Hudson?” Her accent was intoxicating, pulling me right in. Her nurse’s outfit was modest, yet was flattering to her figure.

“Good, I guess.”

She removed the blood stained gauze, exposing my fresh wound. “That’s a nasty cut you got there. When did this happen?”

“Last night.”

“How?”

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it does. Were you in a fight?”

“I fell?”

“You fell?”

“Sure did.”

“A strapping young man like you doesn’t fall so easily.”

“You think so, huh?”

She examined the wound, cleaning the blood off of it. Her hands were soothing, even with the rubber gloves. “Well, you’re lucky. You don’t need stitches. This is going to hurt a bit.” She put some rubbing alcohol on a clean gauze pad and placed it on my wound.

The pain was excruciating. I thought I was going to scream for the world to hear. I would have shoved her if she wasn’t so pretty.

She removed the gauze and bandaged up my wound. “Looks like you’re going to live for another day, Mr. Hudson. Hopefully you won’t have any more nasty falls.”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“You don’t seem like you belong here.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You’re nice.”

“I don’t belong here because I’m nice?”

“Nobody else here is.”

“Perhaps you should give it some time. It’s hard staying in a new school.”

“I’ve been through plenty of schools, but not one where there are guards keeping us locked up like a prison.”

“They’re for your protection.”

“From what?”

“From those who want to cause harm to you.”

“It seems like there are plenty of people who want to cause me harm right here.”

“Aren’t you exaggerating things a bit?”

“You’re telling me you haven’t noticed some of the things that happen here?”

I could tell I was making her uncomfortable. She didn’t like me bugging her about this place.

She kept herself busy by bandaging my wound. “Can I give you some advice, Mr. Hudson?”

“Sure.”

“If I were you I wouldn’t be going around asking so many questions.”

“Why?”

“Because you might get into trouble.”

“You worried about me?”

“I’m worried about all the boys in this school. I would like to see them in a good home or in better circumstance when they leave.”

“Oh and I thought you were getting all sweet on me.”

“Sweet on you? Are you implying that I’m coming on to you?”

“You’re implying that, not me.”

“I’m a bit older than you, don’t you think.”

“Not by much. By the end of the year I’ll be 18. You must be what, 21?”

“It’s rude to inquire about a lady’s age.”

“Oh I forgot, you Brits like to be all good and proper.”

“And you Americans don’t seem to understand the concept of manners.”

“Me, I got plenty of manners. Probably the most manners out of all the boys in this school. I actually opened a door for a girl once. God’s honest truth.”

“It that so?”

“Sure. One time I actually helped an old lady cross the street. She offered me a nickel, but I refused. She even called me a true gentlemen.”

“I suppose I misunderstood you, Mr. Hudson.”

“It’s ok. I suppose I was being a bit rude. Can you a least tell me your name?”

“Hannah.”

“Hannah. That’s a nice name. Hannah, I like the sound of that. Has a good ring to it.”

The boy with the shits barged into the examining room. His face red and flushed, like he was going to vomit. “Nurse. I’m not feeling well.”

“I’ll be with you in just a moment.” The stench from the bathroom permeated the air of the examining room, taking both Hannah and I aback.

“I guess that’s my cue,” I said.

The boy retreated to the waiting room. Hannah opened the door for me. “You should be able to take the bandage off in a few days. Just try not to have anymore ‘falls.’ ”

“I’ll try not to.”

The boy rushed into the room, using the bathroom in the examining room. “Good luck with that one,” I said as I left Hannah’s smile and good graces.

Dinner was being served in the hall. We were by no means kings, diplomats or men of stature, but boys. Boys who were deemed by the state unfit to attend its finest institutions and instead be thrown into Crowam, We were the leftovers, so to speak, like the leftovers that clung on the dirty plates Thomas and I washed. The hall wasn’t much, but suitable for our tastes, which were simple.

Felix took it upon himself to give a toast, not with wine, beer or vodka, but with water that looked like it was strained from a sock. “Gents, let us eat and be merry. For today we may be paupers, but in our hearts and souls, we our kings. Let us savor the sweet taste that is life.”

“Hear, hear,” the boys chanted.

“Well done, Felix,” Owen said.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Charles said.

“Why thank you lads.”

“Truly inspirational Felix. I must admit you almost brought me to tears with such a toast,” I said.

“Flattery won’t get you the extra bottle of vodka you asked for, Jake.”

“It’s for medical purposes. I’m a wounded man,” I said, pointing to the bandages on my head.

“Yes, that’s quite a bruise you got there.”

“Courtesy of Tom.”

“Yes, Tom can be quite a ruffian I’m afraid.”

“No kidding.”

“Never got that chap. Just doesn’t know how to handle his emotions.”

“I’ve always believed violence is for those who can’t settle disputes with their minds,” Thomas said.

“Tell that to Hitler,” I said.

“Why, yes, Thomas. Are you saying that the war was unnecessary?” Felix asked.

“I just think there is always an alternative solution to violence, that’s all. Take that over grown brute, Tom. He deems it necessary to hurt Jake because of emotions and personal issues he can’t understand. Frankly, he’s weak minded. “

“Don’t have Tom catch you saying that,” Felix said.

“Well, I’ve always believed that when you’re pushed against the wall, you have to push back. Nobody gets anywhere by just letting somebody get the best of you,” I said.

“Sometimes things aren’t as simple as they seem,” Thomas replied.

“Maybe they are. Maybe people just have a habit of over complicating things.”

“There’s always a grey area, Jake.”

“Yea that grey is just there to distract the rest of us from what’s really going on.”

“I don’t understand,” Thomas said

“All I am saying is that there is right and wrong, good and evil. That grey area you talk about is for those who don’t want to stand up and fight for something.”

“Oh enough with the philosophy already. My head is going to shrivel with all that nonsense. It’s all rubbish anyway, pure rubbish. It’ll rot your brain I tell you,” Felix said.

“Thanks for the warning. You see, Thomas. Reading those books will fry your brain,” I said.

“I believe you’re reading one of those supposed books as well,” Thomas replied.

“Say it ain’t so!” Felix said.

“What’s wrong with reading?” Charles asked.

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Thomas said.

“Books are intriguing, but it is no substitute for life, gentlemen. It is those experiences we live that make living so bittersweet. Experiences you can never find in books,” Felix said.

“Ah, but it is books that we pass on those very experiences that others have lived and imagined. It is books where we learn and recognize those bittersweet moments you speak of,” Thomas said.

“Look at us here boys, we have William Shakespeare in the flesh, born again to educate us all on the duality of man,” I said.

“We should all be so lucky!” Owen said.

Tom got up to get himself a second serving of meat and potatoes. The lunch lady was unappreciative of his appetite “How about another serving beautiful?” Tom asked.

“Sorry. No second helpings.”

“What
do you
mean, no second helpings?”

“Just what I said. No second helpings.”

“You’re bloody joking.”

“Do I look like I’m joking, you big buffoon? Get on out of here.”

“No. I want my second helpings!” Tom yelled.

“You can’t have any.”

The Bus Driver emerged from the back of the kitchen. “We got a problem here?” the driver asked.

“This boy thinks he deserves second helpings,” the lunch lady said.

“Is that right?” the guard scoffed.

“Why don’t you bug off,” Tom said.

The Bus Driver shoved the kitchen door open, banging the door loudly enough to startle the boys inside the hall. He took off his dirty apron, cracking his jaw. “What was that you said?”

“I said bug off.”

He gave a devilish smile, shoved Tom back, and knocked over some of the boys sitting behind him. He rushed toward the driver and punched him in his beer belly of a stomach. The driver grinned before Tom landed a hook to his jaw. His eyes erupted with anger. He laid a good one onto Tom’s right eye, but not enough to knock him down.

The two went at it like two prizefighters. Even considering Tom was the big brute that he was, he had a hard time holding his own against a man twice his size.

I didn’t know what the hell compelled me to do it. I got up from my chair and leaped off one of the tables, jumping on the Bus Driver’s back. I knocked him to the ground, blindsiding him. I had the upper hand. I threw a punch right at his noise. Blood exploded from his nostrils.

He grabbed me and shoved me off, tossing me near Tom’s feet. I got up and put up my fists.

“Enough!” the yell came behind us. Mr. Hugo, with two guards on each side of him, stood there. He motioned at the Bus Driver to get up. Two guards helped him. Mr. Hugo stood motionless, glaring at the scene. “I want these two in my office in five minutes. Clean up this mess.” His expression embodied disgust.

“I’m going to get you, boy! You hear me. You’re dead,” The Bus Driver said as he went back to the kitchen. The boys finished their dinner while I went with Tom to our appointment to meet the “wonderful” Mr. Hugo.

“What?” I asked.

“Can I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

“Why did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“You bloody know what I’m talking about. What you did back there.”