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Pan
Tommy lingered in the shadows, as only a teenager could in a large crowd, in the corner of the room and watched the faces of crude and offensive people stay expressionless in their attempt to make an impression at the ball. He glanced around at the sparkling gowns that had subtle but obvious colours; all made more the fascinating by the jewels that hung off their bodies like baubles on a Christmas tree. Their hair, the perfect shape of perfection and make up covering their natural beauty and turning them into a walking ornament. The men wore firmly pressed suits and sashes that stroked across their bulging chests. Champaign in their hands whilst creating general talk about business or the atmosphere. No one was daring to be the first to dance, or even caring enough to want to dance. The music was the classical type that one could only slow dance to and nobody in the room was compassionate enough to let the music carry them through the room and feel every note.
This was not the first party that Tommy had had the misfortune to be a part of. He desired so much to disappear into his room but his uncle needed him to be the waiter for the night, just like he is every night they throw a ball like this. He fidgeted in his suit which was uncomfortable and making him itch.
He hated this kind of thing. Tommy was a boy of simple taste and hated the large crowds and having to mingle with people who would always talk about him as he left their side. They always did. Tommy seemed to be the only thing that they could ever talk about once they had seen him. Sometimes he would get words of sympathy and sometimes looks of disgust depending on how close the person was to his uncle. Ever since his parents died Tommy had been living with his uncle and had to live with constantly being the elephant in the room and having to explain to people why he was even there.
He looked up to see his uncle glaring at him from the far balcony before turning to more of his guests and engaging in conversation. He knew that that was a sign for him to do something or he would be in serious trouble by the end of the night. He picked up the silver tray by his side and began to collect glasses that were stranded on window sills and tables. He took them into the kitchen where the chef was preparing food for everyone. In half an hour everyone was going to be seated in the dining hall, each with their own seat and Glenda had to prepare a meal for every single one of them.
Glenda was their very faithful chef and very good at what she does even though she was paid little for it. She was living here illegally and was now in hiding from the 'fat sharks' as she so put it. Nobody would ever turn her over to immigration as she was the nicest person you could ever meet. Well, most of the time.
Glenda spotted Tommy coming into the large, chrome kitchen through the far end of the room and rushed to him as if he were her knight in shining armour.
"Young master! Aahh you here to help, no?" Her accent was difficult to decipher but Tommy had known her for a while now and had learned how to translate or even guess what she was trying to say.
"No, I'm just here for more Champaign." He said glumly and he walked over to the wine rack where six more bottles of Champaign lived. He set out tall, thin glasses and began to pour in Champaign.
"I don't know, this is just too much!" she exclaimed.
"You say that every time and every time you manage."
"Yes but this time I mean it. Portions small, amounts big, time small, people stomachs big." She babbled on whilst decorating more and more foods that could fit on a spoon.
"I'll go and hand out some more drinks and then I'll be back to help you, ok?" Tommy glided out of the room and presented drinks before people either that didn't have a glass in their hand or had empty glasses in their hands. They took one politely and Tommy would give them a gracious smile before moving onto the next person.
Once his tray was free of glasses of Champaign he dashed back into the kitchen.
"You say it and I'll do it." he said putting an apron over his suit so not to get anything down it.
"Aahh young master my hero!" she exclaimed handing him a tray full of little circles of something that he had never seen before in his life or would care to try.
"Grate this over, not too much though, expensive."
"What is it?"
"Like gold, better."
"Better than gold?"
"In food industry."
Tommy began to grate it over the tiny platters of food that looked like they belonged to an astronaut. He then moved on to washing the pots so that Glenda didn't come back to a pile of dirty pans after the meal. Once the meal was ready to be served, it was Tommy's job to pour the guests some wine of their choice to wash down the meal.
He walked through to the dining room and was taken aback by the amount of drunken people roaring with laughter. They were all spread out amongst the table and hadn't even acknowledged Tommy's presence. He sighed a deep sigh before persuading himself that it would be best if he didn't slide along the well polished floor.
Tommy went round the table to every individual and presented them with the wine list. He waited in patience as he went back and forth from the wine rack at the other end of the room and the guest, to get them the wine that they required. Many times had Tommy had to bite his tongue so not to say anything to the ones that were taking pleasure in choosing a wine they didn't like to make Tommy's life difficult. Once all fifty eight guests were satisfied with their wine that was Tommy's cue to leave and not return until half way through the main course when people were sure to want another drink. As he poured his last drink and was headed for the kitchen an elderly lady with an extraordinarily large dress dropped her napkin on the floor. She pushed out her chair in order to reach it and rammed it straight into Tommy who then had no choice but to fall straight over, smashing the bottle of wine on the floor. Not knowing this, the smart waiters, each carrying an individual meal, were coming around the corner as being instructed to when two of them slipped on the wine and joined Tommy on the floor. Tommy dare not look at his uncle but stared straight into the pool of wine on the floor. His uncle would certainly kill him now. Slowly, he lifted himself up and turned to see the expression on the other guest's faces. Red wine stained the front of his crisp clean shirt leaving it as red as his face.
"Excuse me a moment." His uncle said and dragged Tommy by the arm out of the room, nearly lifting him off the floor as he did so.
"How dare you embarrass me like that in front of my friends. All my guests, important guests are going to think less of me than when they entered the building because of you!" Tommy was backing up with every word as if it was pushing him into the empty room.
"You are a disgrace! You impotent fool! I took you in when you had nobody now look how you repay me! By making me look like a complete dunce! Idiot boy!" He roared at the top of his lungs. He lashed his hand out at Tommy and swiped it across his face. Tommy whimpered with hurt.
"Do you really think your parents would be proud of you now?! Now that you're nothing but a waste of space!"
"You don't know anything about my parents!" Tommy couldn't help it. He was hurt and confused. As much as he tried to contain it the anger he felt could not be tamed when it came to his parents.
"What did you say?" His uncle asked him with venom in his eyes. Tommy paused before repeating,
"You know nothing about them." Furious, his uncle launched his fist at him again and again, kicking him until Tommy was lying on the floor of the lounge in agony.
"When I return you better not be here if you know what's good for you – idiot boy," he walked out of the room with his head held high as if he had just rescued a cat from a tree. Tommy clenched his stomach in an attempt to stop the pain booming in him. Bertrand, their waiter, had seen his master walk back into the dining room without Tommy and began to worry. He wandered into the room and saw Tommy curled in a ball in the middle of the floor and immediately rushed to his aid.
"Master Tom, are you alright?" Bertrand asked him. Bertrand was a kind man and had a face to reflect this. His hair was somewhat disappearing and his posture proud but gentle.
"Fine," he struggled out but Bertrand saw the state he was in and his heart bled.
He helped him up and allowed the young master to lean on him as he lead him into the kitchen where Glenda was more than happy to help him. None of them said anything as Tommy sat, shocked whilst they both tended to his wounds. There was a long silence whilst Glenda went back to her chopping and Bertrand sat opposite to Tommy holding an ice pack to his bruised face. Bertrand was the first to break the silence.
"Not too bad, nothing broken." Tommy took the icepack from him and held it to his eye that felt like it was on fire.
"Do you feel better now?" Bertrand asked him determined to make him say something.
"Master Tom?" Tommy was brought back to Earth with Bertrand's words. Bertrand had always called Tommy, Tom right from when he was little. Even though on his birth certificate his name read Tommy. Bertrand thought that Tom was more formal between a boy and his servant.
"Not too bad? His brain lay on floor!" Glenda exclaimed chopping the vegetables harder and banging the knife on the chopping board, making Tommy jump.
"I'm fine," he said and got up to go back to the lounge when a wave of dizziness came over him. Bertrand had to sit him back down before he fell down.
"Sit down for a while before you do more damage,"
"I told you I'll be fine."
"I meant do damage to the house, it looks like the battlefield of world war 3 in there."
Tommy allowed himself to laugh at the remark until a shock of pain ran through his torso leaving him wincing in pain. Bertrand's look of worry returned to his face as he realised that this could repeat as soon as all of the guests were gone and Tommy was left alone with his uncle. Bertrand had always been there for Tommy throughout everything and ever since his parents died in the car crash he looked after Tommy as if he were his own son.
"You're going to have to make yourself scarce for a while." Bertrand turned to Glenda.
"Can you get him up to his room whilst I guide everyone to the main hall?" he went back to Tommy.
"You might want to leave the house early in the morning and not come back until a good few hours have past." They both nodded and the plan was underway. Bertrand went first and guided into the main hall, once the doors closed Glenda helped Tommy up the stairs and into his bedroom.
Glenda gave him a sorrowful look before vacating the room and going back to the kitchen. She would have stayed and looked after him but she had afters too make and prepare.
Tommy sat in his room on his own. It was only seven o'clock and he was bored stiff. After a while everything didn't hurt as much. Only when he laughed or coughed and he wasn't planning on doing either for a while. Suddenly his phone vibrated in his pocket making him jump for joy at the sound of friends. It was Duke. His best friend since he was little.
Tombo, wuu2?
Total boredom here!
L
Duke
He wasn't sure whether to tell him about what had happened or not. How could he explain that the one person that was supposed to be looking after him beat him? He shivered at the thought of it again. He decided to reply back,
Meet me at bridge in ten mins.
Need to talk.
Urgent.
!
Tommy.
He couldn't exactly tell him by text. Tommy slipped on his jacket and high tops and crept out of his room. And tiptoed down the twisting stairs until he was just a few feet from the front door. There were two of waiters standing in the room who had been given orders to stay and watch if anyone arrives late. Tommy reached into his pocket and pulled out one of his classic stink bombs and smashed hard on the floor. He pulled his jacket over his mouth and nose whilst the two waiters were left gagging for air. Within a minute they were out of the room and Tommy sprinted out of the door until he was at the end of his street. Certain that no one had seen he slowed to a steady walk and headed for the bridge. The bridge was usually where Duke and Tommy went to hang out. It wasn't exactly a great hide out but it had a magnificent view of the town and it was away from all of the trouble that hung in the air. He walked along the path allowing the cool wind to stroke his bruised cheeks as his feet walked its rhythm. Snow crunched under his feet leaving behind his footprint of how he was there. The night air hung lightly in his lungs whilst the street lights guided the way. When he reached the bridge Duke was already there waiting.
"Tombo! What's up?" Duke asked as Tommy began to approach him. He kept his head down at first so as not to show him his bruises but there was no avoiding it forever. He slowly lifted his head to the light of the moon that shone through every emotion on his face. Duke let out a gasp of horror before making the obvious guess as to who had done it.
"He can't do this to you!" he shouted. "It's wrong! You've got to call someone."
"What, and have them put me in care! I don't think so."
"Anything's got to be better than that." Tommy's eyes met his feet again as the awkward silence lingered in the clean air leaving it foul and tasteless.
"What are you gonna do?"
"I don't know, nothing, I guess."
Tommy looked out from the bridge at the town. It was so wonderful at night with its dim lights just light enough to see the faint paintwork of the buildings and filter through the windows at the happy houses filled with happy faces. The lake beneath them was completely frozen from the cold and had a mystical feel about it.
Duke lightened up the conversation by talking football matches and other boy talk but the awkward still hung in the air like a bad smell. Every now and again Duke would glance from Tommy to his bruises and then back at Tommy then the sky and then his bruises. Tommy felt ashamed of himself. What would his parents have thought of him letting a man walk all over him like that? Literally. As if he could read his mind Duke spoke in a soft voice.
"It wasn't your fault you know, what happened, you're not to blame. It's that good for nothing pig mouth with more ego than he has brains!"
Tommy said nothing but concentrated on the little white light winking at him from a distance. It looked like it was on the lake.
"What's that?" he said and pointed to the mysterious light.
"Dunno, probably a bottle or something." But there was something strange about it that sent goose bumps running down Tommy's back. He slid off the bridge and onto the ice that was slipperier than it looked.
"Tombo what are you doing?" Duke had always called him Tombo and sometimes even Tombola but it was just yet another addition to his ever changing name.
"I want to see what it is."
"Are you stupid? You'll break your neck!"
"Then have your phone out ready." Duke new that Tommy was never going to listen to him. He never did. They were like brothers to each other and always had their backs no matter what the situation or consequence, that's how brotherhood worked.
Tommy edged his way along the ice, slipping this way and sliding that. There was no danger of the ice breaking because it had been frozen for days and getting colder. As he reached the mysterious light he found that it wasn't on the ice but under it and the light had just been reflecting off the moon.
Duke was keeping his distance form Tommy so not to put too much pressure in one place but was still following him.
"It's something under the ice."
"It's probably nothing. Let's just….." but before Duke could finish his sentence the ice gave way under Tommy and sending straight into the freezing water.
"Tombo!" he shouted as he immediately rushed to the small hole where his friend had just disappeared, but it was too late. Tommy sank further and further under water. His arms struggling to move in the cold of the water. He lifted himself to the surface only to be blocked off from the air by ice. He scrambled to find where he had fallen through but he had lost it completely. His arms and legs struggled to go on as the water froze every part of him. He was so cold and yet his lungs were burning from lack of air.
"Help! Someone help us!" Duke cried from the surface but no one was around.
As his body was about to give in, Tommy saw again what had puzzled his mind. The strange object had been a small sword jammed into the ice below. Suddenly he had an idea and yanked at the sword with as much might as his cramping body would allow him. He pulled it out in one fluid motion and stabbed at the ice above his head. Frantically stabbing over and over until his arms could barely move. His lungs were on the verge of exploding when he gave way and drifted into the sway of the lake. He was so cold. He felt his eyelids close and his grip on the sword loosen until he completely drifted away, body and mind.
