Valparaiso
Author's Note: This was supposed to be a fairly light-hearted story, but ended up getting a bit darker than I had planned. Be forewarned. Though both boys are featured, this is definitely a Heyes-centric story.
"Aye, and you can stay in there until you learn to do your talking w'yer words 'stead of w'yer 'ands."
The blond haired boy heard Mother Superior as the door slammed behind him and the lock slid in place. Anger welled in his throat as he turned and slammed his fist into the wall. "I'll do my talking with… Argh!" He recoiled as his knuckles ached from the blunt contact with the hard surface.
"That'll teach 'em. Now they'll think twice about putting you back in here."
As he held his aching hand close to his chest, he looked around. In the corner, on a bed underneath the room's only window, sat another young boy. His hair and eyes were both dark as night. He wore the same tattered rags that all of the orphans did; dark blue shirt and pants, with a rope for a belt. Prison garb they jokingly referred to it. In his hands, he held a book. When he said nothing, the boy rose, creasing the corner of a page and placing the book on the bed as he walked to face him.
"You gonna say something, or just stand there and stare all unnatural-like?"
Looking away, he scanned the room; in the other corner was another bed, this one vacant. Between the beds was an old wooden table, its top scratched from years of abuse. The window in the corner was cracked and let in a draft. The dying light of the day cast an orange glow in the room. "How long am I gonna be in here?" He tried to keep the nervousness from his voice, but knew it escaped his lips all the same.
"Depends on who you are and what you done. You're new here, aren't ya?" He just nodded. "They'll probably let you out tomorrow, maybe the day after for fighting."
"What about you?"
"I'm in for three days. I got caught sneaking some food out of the kitchen. What's your name?"
"Jedidiah Curry."
"That's a terrible name! It's almost as bad as mine, Hannibal. Everyone here just calls me Heyes. We'll have to come up with something new for you."
Jed tried to smile, knew that would have been the polite thing to do, but just couldn't muster it.
"Look, there's a few things you need to know. First, stay away from the older kids, they're bigger and stronger and you don't have a chance against 'em. Second, stay away from the younger ones, the sisters are too protective, you make even one of 'em cry and you'll be in here for a week. Last, be careful around the sisters, especially Mother Superior, they got too much pull with the man upstairs."
"You mean God?"
Heyes turned serious, "No, I mean Father Mulligan, his office is upstairs."
The boy's disarming smile got to him as he felt a chuckle come up in his throat. He'd heard about this kid. Heard he led some of the boys and was respected by the rest. They listened to him. Heard that bein' on Heyes' side was the only side you wanted to be on. Deep in thought, he walked to the bed and sat on its edge.
On his heels, Heyes sat facing him. "Look, kid, it ain't as scary as you think. Just do as you're told and before you know it you'll be old enough to get out."
"Really?"
He shrugged, "That's what I keep tellin' myself. Lay down and get some rest, we got a whole lot of nuthin' to do tomorrow."
Without another word, Heyes pulled his feet up on the bed, grabbed his book and went back to whatever world he had momentarily left. Jed only wished that he could drift off as easily.
Heyes watched as the blond haired boy fitfully went to sleep. Every few moments he would turn, desperately trying to find a spot that would be comfortable. But he'd been here too long; there were a lot of words he could use to describe the beds in the orphanage, but comfortable was not one of them.
This kid was new, real new. They looked about the same age – just shy of fifteen, maybe a year different, not more than two. He must have been brought in with the latest shipment. It seemed every week there were more kids, a steady stream of sad faces piling through the doors. This damned war is good for nuthin' but makin' orphans, he thought. For a moment, his thoughts went back home. Back to a warm bed, a house full of laughter, and summer days that he thought would never end. As quick as the memory came, he forced it back down with a hard swallow. Lookin' back would never get him to where he wanted to be. He just wanted out, out of lumpy beds, out of a home where anger and tears filled the halls, where time stood still, where each day felt longer than the last. Despite the façade he presented to everyone else, he knew it was just a matter of time before he fell into the same doldrums of the other orphans. That was something he just couldn't accept.
The kid moaned, a subtle whimper, a familiar sound at night. Heyes looked over at his hunched back. Even the older boys whimpered in their deepest sleep. They'd seen too much, they all had. Blood and tears; that was the one thing they had in common. For some, it turned 'em mean, lashing out at anyone or anything that appeared weaker. For others, it broke 'em, they barely had a reason to get up in the morning. Those were the ones you barely saw eat, you barely saw move faster than a crawl, those were the ones that went to the nurse and never came back.
Then there were those like him, just trying to survive to tomorrow. They would hold on to the idea of leaving and would do whatever it took, honest or not, to keep a spark of life alive. They would pretend, pretend to their friends, to the nuns, even to themselves. They knew that surviving the war was easy compared to surviving the after, after everyone died, after everyone leaves, after it is time to go to bed and they are left to their own thoughts, their own ghosts or for some, their own demons. Dying is easy, his pa once told him, all you have to do is lie there, it's surviving that's hard. As he stared up at the ceiling he realized truer words had never been spoken.
As he pulled up the rag that was supposed to be a blanket, he wondered which camp this new kid would fall into.
The next morning came early. The rooster had barely crowed when the sister banged on the door, bringing them food. As each boy sat with their tray, Heyes watched as the kid ate quicker than anyone he'd ever seen. Without a word, he took his roll off the plate and handed the rest over. "You can have mine."
The blue eyes looked up in disbelief, "You ain't hungry?"
He shrugged, "I get full fast." He lied.
Over the top of his book he stared, watching as the food disappeared faster than a sound of a whistle.
"You get enough?"
The boy just shrugged.
A moment passed, an awkward silence in the room. Breaking the quiet, the lock in the door slid out of place as light came through the opening. Sister Mary stood on the other side, her habit tightly fitting her abundant curves. "Heyes, you're free to go."
He stood, confused.
"Little Jimmy showed us the coon dog you've been feedin'. I spoke with Father Mulligan and he agreed that it was very Christian of you to risk bein' in trouble for them. This morning, he found her and the pups a good home in town."
He couldn't help but wonder why it was so easy for them to find a home for a mangy dog and some pups, but not a home for him. Picking up his book, he walked to the door. With a look back towards the blond boy still sitting on the bed, he asked, "What about him?"
"Oh, he's got the rest of the day at least, seems he took up a scuffle with Henry Bogshot."
"Are you sure it wasn't Henry taking up a scuffle with him? Henry likes to pick on the new kids; I bet he was just defending himself. Did anyone see who really started it?"
"Well, no, but this boy broke Henry's nose."
"Sounds like Henry finally tangled with someone that would fight back. You didn't expect him to just cower like Steven O'Leery, did you? It took a week for him to heal up."
The nun thought for a moment. "You know Mother Superior will be awfully angry if I let him out early."
He smiled, "True, but I bet I could hide him till nightfall."
Sister Mary smiled, she always had a soft spot for him and he knew it. "Very well, you keep him out of sight, you hear."
"Yes ma'am." He beamed, turning to the boy, he motioned, "C'mon."
"Why'd you do it?"
"Why'd I do what?" Heyes asked as they sat in a corner of the yard, eating an apple.
"Why'd you get her to let me out?"
He sat back, slightly offended, "You want to go back?"
"No, just wonderin'."
"I dunno. Guess you just looked too pathetic. I was afraid your next roommate wouldn't be so nice to you."
There it was again, that disarming smile.
"Well, thanks."
"How long you been an orphan?"
"A month, you?"
"A year, next week." Heyes took a deep breath. "Look, kid, if you haven't heard, I run quite a few of the boys around here. Nothin' official, but they listen to me. I also got my way with a couple of the nuns."
"What does that mean?"
"It just means I got them thinking I'm a whole lot more honest than I am. If you want to join my group, I'd like to have you. I can promise this place is a whole lot worse without any friends."
"Is that a threat?"
"Will you stop lookin' for a fight? I just mean bein' in here alone will make you wish you died with your folks; especially your first few weeks."
"Was it that way for you?"
Heyes looked him in the eye, Kid saw the sadness, but for just a moment.
"Look, for now just stay out in the yard; Mother Superior doesn't come outside till after dark. I can sneak some food out at lunch and when the sun starts to set, I'll come and get you. Understood?"
Heyes stood and started to walk away.
"Where are you going?"
"School starts in a half an hour. We're reading today. Look, don't worry, no one will bother you."
"I can take care of myself, I'm not scared." He stood, angry at the idea.
"I didn't say you were." Heyes walked back. "Just stay out of trouble, I don't want to have to get you out of detention, again."
Jed watched as he left. As he sat back down, he grabbed the other apple they had picked from the tree and took a large bite. Looking up at the clouds in the sky, he wondered what this new life had in store for him.
That night, Heyes brought him into the boy's room. It wasn't very large, but held eight beds in all. Four sat against each wall, small tables between each. At the end of the room was a single window, bars firmly in place on the outside. The walls were a drab grey; the floor was made of hard concrete. The rooms could pass as prison cells, Jed thought. In the room were five other boys, they were of varying height and build. The tallest had to be a solid year older than the rest and at least a foot taller. His shaggy brown hair covered his blue eyes, his arms were thin as was the rest of him. The smallest of the boys sat in a tight ball on the farthest bed, barely acknowledging anything going on around him. The other three sat on a single bed, playing cards. Two of the boys could have passed as brothers; each had blond hair, blue eyes. The other boy was younger, by at least a year or two; dark hair, light eyes.
"I've talked to Sister Mary. I explained that, you being pitiful and all, that we could keep you out of trouble if you stayed with us."
"Pitiful!"
He smiled that smile, that damned smile that was slowly beginning to get on his last nerve.
"Do you want to join my group or not?" Not waiting for an answer, he spoke to the group, "Everybody, listen up." He waited a moment until he had everyone's attention. "We got a new kid moving in with us. He'll take Sammy's old bed." He motioned to the empty bed in the far corner. "Kid, I want you to meet Frank," he pointed to the tallest boy in the group. "Ian and Johnnie," the two blond boys on the bed nodded. "Charles," the smallest of the three, nervously smiled. "And over there is Ollie." He pointed to the boy still curled in a ball. His dark red hair stuck out in tufts, freckles covered his nose and forehead. His blue eyes stared off into the distance. "He talks, but not much."
Frank laughed as he ran his hand through his hair, pulling the bangs away from his eyes, "Ya gotta treat Ollie like a scared dog. Come up on him too fast and he might bite."
The other boys laughed, that is until Heyes' eyes turned dark. With just a glance, the laughter ceased.
Heyes turned back to the Kid, "We watch out for each other and anyone else that might need it. We don't go lookin' for fights, but we won't back down from one either." He turned back to the boys, "Boys, this is the kid that sent Henry to the nurse with a busted nose."
Each of the boys nodded and smiled. There was a smattering of "Alright," "You're good with me," and "Welcome to the room."
Heyes slapped his hand on Kid's shoulder, "See, you'll fit in just fine."
The rain was coming down, hard. In the distance, he could hear the thunder; the lightning would flash, turning a dark day as bright as the sun. The wind was howling, picking up leaves and swirling them in the air. It was just a thunderstorm, he knew. Yet the clouds were ominous, a sign of bad things to come. It's only the wind; she used to say when the clouds started to rumble. If only he could close his eyes and pretend, if for just a moment, it was only the wind…
"Hannibal." He continued to stare out the window until a ruler came crashing down on his desk, bringing him back to the reality he had mentally left moments before. Above him stood Mother Superior, angry, a vein pulsating in her forehead. He had no idea what she had asked or what answer he was supposed to give. Looking behind her, across the aisle, Frank pointed towards the front of the room, towards the blackboard and then held up four fingers.
On the blackboard was a list of equations, each was numbered. Number four was 1077.375 divided by 25.5.
Heyes thought for a moment, looked up at the sister and stated matter-of-factly, "42.25."
The sister breathed deep and glanced around; searching for any evidence that someone else had given him the answer. He knew she wouldn't find any, even better, she knew none existed as well. She hated him with a passion, she hated that he made good marks without trying. She hated that he could answer her arithmetic faster and more accurately than even she could. She hated him, plain and simple, and made no effort to hide it.
"You think y'er so smart, don't ya?"
He looked up at her, innocently, "Was I wrong?"
The ruler came down hard on his wrist, striking the bone. "I'll 'ave none of that sass from you. Ya can be clean' the 'rasers at lunch for that."
As she stormed away, he rubbed his aching wrist. It would bruise, he knew it. But then, it would just match all the others.
His stomach growled at the thought of waiting until dinner to eat, but it was worth it to not let her get to him; or to be more accurate, to not let her know that she got to him.
Heyes collapsed on his bed after school, his stomach rumbled and ached. He had shared half his breakfast with Charles and, as he calculated how much longer it was till dinner, was now regretting his decision to talk back to the Mother Superior. He knew better, but once again, his mouth worked faster than his brain. Once again, his self-control didn't kick in, and he paid the price for it.
As the boys piled in the room, a weight came down on his bed. Looking up, it was the new kid, a package in hand. Taking it, he opened the cloth napkin. Inside was a roll from lunch. He smiled, "Thanks Kid."
The kid shrugged and went to his own bed. As Heyes devoured the roll, he looked up, each of the other boys, including Ollie, had a package in their hands. One by one, they handed them off. By the end, he had two rolls, two small pieces of ham, and two slivers of brownie. Both his heart and his stomach were full at the kindness that had been extended. In the year he had been in the home, never had he felt so warm.
The sun was beating down as the boys ran free in the yard, Heyes and Kid sat under a tree, Heyes with a pad of paper in hand. For the past week, he had watched as the kid struggled in school. He was smart; he knew that, it was just the basics he needed help with. So, when they were let out in the yard, he would pull him aside. He knew that if he could just get the soft spots taken care of, he could handle the rest on his own.
"Kid, it's something you just gotta remember. Look, the nines are easiest." His declaration was met with an unbelieving stare. "Look, you know your tens, right? Ten times anything is that number with a zero on the end." Kid nodded in understanding. "If you know that, the nines are a cinch. Just multiply it by ten and then subtract it by itself. See, ten times five is what?"
"Fifty." Kid answered.
"And what is fifty minus five?" He looked up, hopeful.
Kid smiled, "Fourty-five."
"There ya go. What's nine times eight?"
"Eight times ten is eighty, so nine times eight is," he thought for a second, "seventy-two."
He handed him the paper, "There, you work on your nines and once you got them down, we'll go to a harder number, like ones."
There it was again, that smile and this time Kid let a laugh escape. "Where'd you get all smart with the numbers?"
Heyes shrugged, "Dunno, my ma was always good at 'em. My pa was a book keeper, but even he'd have ma check his work. Guess I got it from her."
Kid looked out across the yard, "So what is their story?" He nodded towards their friends that were kicking a ball between them.
"Ian and Johnnie are cousins. Their pas both went off to fight. Ian's for the Union, Johnnie's for the Rebs, both died in Tennessee. Their mas never had much money anyways, so they sent them here, figured they'd at least get three squares here. Charles' ma and sister died last winter, lung fever, his pa is still fightin' for the Union, or he's dead. No one knows."
Kid looked over at Ollie as he slowly walked the perimeter of the field, his hand dragging at the fence. Heyes had been right; he did talk, but just barely. During class he was okay, he would do his work and do it well. Kid had a sneaking suspicion it was only when there was nothing else to do, nothing else to think about, that he became quiet. "What about him?"
Heyes looked down at the ground and pulled at the grass. "His story is the same as mine."
Letting a moment pass, Kid asked, "And that is?"
Heyes took a deep breath and stared out towards the school house. "We have a rule, if we want to talk about our stories, we can. If we don't want to, we don't."
An uncomfortable silence settled between the pair.
"Heyes might not tell you his story, but I'll be downright insulted if you don't ask me mine." Above them, Frank stood, leaning against the tree. Plopping down, he shouldered his way between the two boys, crossing his legs at the ankles. "Well, are you gonna ask me?"
"What's your story?"
"See, my pa was secret agent for the Union."
"Frank." An exasperated Heyes looked towards the sky.
"He was on his way to see ole man Lincoln when that good-fer-nothin General Lee caught up to him; hung him in the town square. His last words were, I'd do it again, so help me God." He said with an exaggerated strangle in his voice while reaching for the sky.
"That's funny, the last time you told it, they drug him behind a band of horses, while screaming, long live the Union."
Frank laughed, "Yeah, I wanted to change it up a little, make it sound a little more believable. What do you think? We're supposed to have a dance next month with the girls from St. Rose, think one of them will buy it?"
"No, they won't." Heyes stated matter of fact. "Why don't you tell him the truth?"
"Fine. Ma died the day I was born. After that, my pa spent most of his nights in the saloon, that is, when he wasn't picking the pockets of any passer-bys. Since no one was takin' care me no ways, I left when I was twelve. Law caught me breakin' into a General Store last later. Judge sent me here." He crossed his arms and looked towards Kid. "Alright, your turn."
He shrugged, "Not much to tell; fightin' got too close to our farm. My folks went out to bring in the horses just as both sides came through the fields, a bullet got them both. I don't have no other livin' kin, so here I am."
Frank slapped Kid's knee, "Well, kid, welcome to the best gang in Valparaiso. We might be rough around the edges, but we stick together. Did Heyes give you all the warnings?"
"Yeah, about the little kids and the sisters?"
"Did he tell you about The Room?"
"What room?"
"The Room. If you ever get drug in there, get scared and quick. Its Mother Superior's office, she's got a big ole belt and knows how to use it. See these?" He lifted up the back of his shirt, displaying large welts that were almost healed. "That's from two weeks ago. Once you've been in there, you won't ever want to go back." Frank chuckled, "Unless of course your name is Hannibal Heyes and you like seeing just how angry you can make her."
"I don't like making her angry."
Frank laughed, "You should have seen her last month! Heyes here, Mr. I-Don't-Like-Making-Her-Angry, stood up in the middle of class and told her she got an answer wrong, then proceeded to correct her work on the blackboard. When she drug him out we were sure we was never gonna see him again, alive that is. He spent the rest of the week in detention. But you better believe, she started double checkin' her countin' after that."
All three laughed. Kid asked, "Was it worth it?"
"Yeah, it was." He laughed, and lied. It wasn't worth it, it wasn't worth it all. For a moment, he thought Kid saw it, thought he saw the truth, thought he saw the pain behind the laughter.
Nighttime was always the hardest. It was when they came back; the memories, the demons. It didn't matter how long it had been. It didn't matter how many days had passed, how many boys had come and gone, they remained. The room would grow heavy as each boy would try to sleep; waking constantly throughout the night, each knowing what the others were thinking: families, children playing, parents laughing, dogs barking. Each longed for the chores they had fought so hard against. Each prayed for just one more request to play tag from their annoying little sister or brother. More than anything, they just wanted one more hug, one more kiss to the cheek, one more assurance that everything would be alright; one more day not knowing the evil that lurked in the world.
As Heyes rolled to his back, he again pressed his eyes closed, forcing the images to disappear, instead to be replaced by the white spots that the pressure from his hands would make.
"Ollie?" Charles asked softly.
"He's asleep, just like you need to be." Heyes commanded.
He heard a rustling, "Ollie?" More movement. "Heyes, he's gone!"
All of the boys shot out of the bed. Frank ran to the door, with a single turn, it opened. "The sisters didn't lock it!"
"Damnit!" All the boys ran to the door. Heyes looked around, "Frank and Ian, check the doors to outside, Kid go with Charles and check the kitchen, Johnnie and I will check the classrooms, meet us there if you don't find him."
As each started to make their way down the hall, they heard loud banging and a scream. Rushing towards the sound, they ran hard towards the kitchen. As they barreled through the door, they saw Ollie, slamming his hands against the window. Heyes ran to him, grabbed him around his shoulders just as the window broke and shards of glass rained down; pulling him away just as a large window pane crashed down, just missing their legs.
Ollie thrashed about, "No! We have to get in there, we have to…"
Heyes held tight around his shoulders while pulling him away from the debris. Tears rained down the freckled cheeks, his eyes tightly shut.
The other boys stood back, unsure of what to do or say.
Watching the two struggle, Kid turned to Frank, "What happened?"
"We all have demons kid, some are worse than others. A year ago, a group of townsfolk wanted to start up a guerrilla group, go after any Rebel sympathizers. Their pas were asked to join; they refused, and made a bit of noise in doing so. A few days later, a mob showed up at Ollie's farm while the Heyes were visiting. They rounded them up, men, women, children, even the two babies, and locked them in the barn and set it on fire. Ollie and Heyes came back from the creek, just in time."
"Just in time for what?"
"Just in time to hear the screams; to watch as the barn caved in. Just in time to be too late. Like I said, we all have demons, some are worse than others."
Taking off the make-shift belt, Kid walked over to Ollie who had collapsed to his knees. He handed one end of the rope to Heyes, "We gotta keep him from hurtin' himself. We gotta get his attention; get him out of his own head."
"You know what you're doin'?" Heyes looked up, hopeful. In the background they heard Frank command the other boys to go keep watch.
"My ma's brother went to Florida to fight the Indians. When he came back, he wasn't right, he'd have fits... Same idea, I figure."
Together they tied the rope around the struggling boy. Once secured, Kid looked back towards Frank, "You think you can find some water?"
Ollie continued to fight, continued to scream and to cry, "I hear mamma and Jessie, I gotta… I gotta…"
"This is all I could find." Frank ran back towards them, a bottle of whisky in hand.
"Help me pour it in." Kid commanded to Heyes.
"You're giving him that?"
"The burn will wake him, it'll bring him out."
Following the order he wasn't sure he believed in, he held the bottle to the boy's lips as Kid forced his head back, just long enough for a taste of it to go down. Immediately, he started coughing. "Talk to him!" Kid ordered.
Heyes sat speechless, "What do I say?"
"Anything. Just keep him here, keep him with us."
Breathing heavy, he focused on the eyes that were barely open, "Hey, hey you. It's over. It's just you me. Just like when we were little, remember? You remember playing in old man Franklin's pond; his geese that would come runnin' out of nowhere, bitin' at our heels? That mangy old of dog of yours?" Ollie gave a half-hearted smile and dozily nodded, "She never did like me; always growled when I would come visit."
"Shadow."
"Yeah, Shadow. Terrible name for a dog; a white one at that."
"Susan named her." Ollie whispered.
"Yeah…" His heart lurched at the memory of his older sister, a memory he had denied himself for so long. "She was terrible at names. Always named her dolls after those foreign cities she wanted to see."
"Paris…"
"Yeah, Paris." He had to stop. He couldn't go on, the grief threatening to overwhelm him. On his shoulder, he felt Kid's hand; it tightened, bringing him back to the present, doing for him, what he had to do for Ollie.
"The sisters are coming!" Charles ran back in the room, followed by the other two.
Frank ran to Heyes, pulling him up by the shoulders. "You get out of here; we'll take care of him."
He shrugged him off, "I'm not leaving!"
"Damnit Heyes, that old hag swore she'd whip you to an inch of your life if she ever caught you foolin' with his fits again. The kid and I can take a beatin' from her, you can't!"
Heyes pushed him away and commanded. "Get the other boys back to the room. Now!" He gave him a forceful shove towards the door. Resigned and with a sorrowful glance back, Frank grabbed the other three and ran. Turning back to Ollie, his arm already draped over Kid's shoulders. "You go on too. No point in you getting in trouble with me."
"Heyes, I'm telling you now, I ain't leavin', no matter how hard you push me."
Heyes nodded, gratefully. Taking Ollie's other arm around his shoulders; they guided him towards the back of the kitchen where they could hide, desperate to get him to move faster than his feet would take him. Just as they opened the door they heard the slap of a ruler against a palm,"Hannibal Heyes."
Nervously, they sat in the chairs in front of Father Mulligan's desk. His office was dark, wood paneling surrounded the wall. Behind his desk sat a safe, a safe that Heyes would occasionally open on the nights that he couldn't sleep. The desk was immaculate, neatly stacked papers on one corner. A pad of paper, a pen, and an ink bottle sat in the middle; a ruler within reaching distance on the left side of the desk. A lit lantern hung on the wall, the flame emitting just enough light to casting an eerie glow on the nuns that stood behind them.
The sisters had taken Ollie, took him to the nurse. Took him to be taken care of. Heyes knew what that meant; he'd be tied to a bed and put in a dark room. There he would thrash about, screaming, begging for someone, anyone to help him; the problem was, those that had been tasked with his care wouldn't be troubled to stay. They would go on back to bed, back to the other side of the orphanage, far away from the sound of a boy crying in pain.
When Father Mulligan came in he was upset, of course he was, it was two in the morning and he had just been woken up. Heyes knew that nothing bothered the Father like being woken from a peaceful sleep, especially if he was the cause of it.
He still wore his night robe; it was tied tightly around his waist. As he sat, he leaned against his desk, hands clasped together. "Hannibal. This is the fourth time this month. What you need to understand is that what Ollie is dealing with is beyond your help. Now, I know you feel responsible for him, but this is ending tonight."
"The nurse doesn't help him!" Behind him, he heard Mother Superior slap her ruler on her palm; he could almost feel her excitement as she considered what she would do to him when they got to The Room. The Father raised his hand towards her; she would have her time, but not yet.
From behind, the door opened as the nurse walked in; carrying some papers. Handing them to Father Mulligan, she spoke. "Everything is ready and he is loaded into the stage, I just need your signature."
Dread filled Heyes' stomach as he watched her leave. "Where are they taking him?"
"The situation has become too dire for Ollie, he could have become seriously injured tonight, or he could have hurt someone else, you even. It is my job to protect everyone in this home, even from themselves. As hard as this decision has been, we have decided to send him to the Osawatomie Asylum; the doctors there will take good care of him."
"No!" Heyes stood, Kid leapt to his side with a tight grip on his elbow. "They'll kill him!"
Father Mulligan stood, trying to calm him. "He will be fine; they've seen this before, they…"
"They'll just lock him up. They don't have a ward for kids; he'll be put with the men. They'll…" Losing control, he swept everything off the desk, papers and ink came crashing to the floor. Kid tried to grab his arms, keep him from doing any more damage, keep him from being sent away as well.
From behind, Mother Superior roughly turned him around, raising her hand high in the air, she seethed, "You little..."
Before she could make contact, before Heyes could be hurt further, Kid grabbed her wrist, stopping it mid strike.
"Aye, ye think yer all big and brave, don'cha now?"
He was pushed into the hard wooden chair just as Mother Superior slammed the door behind herself and the Kid. Two of the other nuns stood guard at the door, they were older, they had seen this before and they simply didn't care. Pulling his legs to his chest, he wrapped his arms around his knees, buried his head, and tried to block out the sounds he knew he was about to hear.
The sound of the whip hitting flesh, the following scream, and then the taunt of the nun permeated the air around him. "You should'a thought twice about raisin' yer 'and." "You think I won' send ya on to the good Lord tonight." "Nuthin' but a useless sack o' bones." Then the worst taunt of all, "You should be glad yer parents are dead, they'd be ashamed of ya if still alive." Kid's screams reverberated in the room as Heyes covered his ears, desperate to hear no more, yet knowing that as soon as the sounds ceased, it would be his turn, his turn to scream.
Steeling himself, he pushed his emotions down, the fear, the sadness, the guilt, the shame, everything was pushed so far down that he no longer felt it. He pushed down his thoughts about Ollie, the images he had about what would happen to him, knowing the type of men in the asylum, knowing there was no way he could ever help him again. He pushed it down, everything. It was pushed so far down that when she appeared with a broken Kid by her side, and he was jerked out of the chair, he felt nothing but anger. With each strike of the belt, he made not a sound; with each cut from a word, nothing, not a single tear escaped, he would give her no evidence that she was hurting him. He refused to give her that pleasure, even knowing that his silence only caused her to hit harder.
When she finally stopped and he fell to the ground, he was filled with resolve. Resolve to never see someone else use their power against someone weaker. Resolve to never again be the one it was used against; resolve to never be weak, never again.
As he was thrown in the room, he could barely breathe, the anger overwhelming him, the physical pain secondary. Kid was lying on the bed, curled on his side, silent. The marks on his arms and back still glowed, his shirt and pants barely able to cover the worst of it. Going to the bed, he kicked the end. "Get up."
Kid raised his head and looked back towards his friend. The look in Kid's eyes almost did it, it almost took him down, but instead he let it feed him, it fueled the anger that would not subside. Going to the table between the beds, he pulled the drawer out and placed it on the bed beside Kid. At the rear of the drawer was a false back, behind which hid a set of tools. As he pulled them out, Kid asked, "What are those?"
"They're picks. We're leaving." Going to the door, he used the tools until he heard the lock give way and the door opened. Returning the picks to their rightful place, he put the drawer back in the table. Kid was sitting on the bed, looking at his friend, lost.
Bracing himself, Heyes sat on the other bed. "I'm leaving. I'm leaving and I'm never coming back. You want to stay, that's fine. But what happened tonight is going to happen again. I've been in that room five times before and it just gets worse. She'll hate you for standing up to her. She'll hate you as much as she hates me. But, if you want to stay, then stay. If you want to come with me…" He stood and walked to the door, glancing back and breathing heavy, he spoke softly, "I could use a friend."
Slowly walking up to him, he asked, "Where will we go?"
"Anywhere, anywhere but here."
Through the hallways, they crept. At the outside of the boy's room, Heyes knocked three times, paused and then twice more. He knew that after they found Ollie, the sisters would have checked all the doors, they would all be locked. After a moment, they heard the sound of picks going into the lock, then the door opening slowly. Taking another glance down the hallway, Heyes and Kid quickly entered, closing the door behind them.
Frank was standing at the door, putting away the set of picks, the other boys were in their beds, all were sitting up staring. Charles' eyes were red – he had been crying. Heyes walked over to his bed and grabbed his pillow, removing the thin cloth that covered it.
Frank followed on Heyes' heels. "Sister Mary told us about Ollie. You two alright?"
Heyes shot a hateful glare. "We're fine. You got any money?"
"Two dollars, why?"
"You owe me for when I kept Henry from turning you into pulp. Cost is two dollars."
Frank stepped back, surprised. Heyes didn't mean to sound so angry, but couldn't manage to keep it in either.
"Look, the kid and I are leavin', tonight." He took a deep breath and looked around the room. "We ain't got any money, so if I've ever done anything for you, if you would help us out, just this one time, would be greatly appreciated."
A moment passed, and then slowly, each of the boys in the room started moving. They looked in their drawers, under their beds, in socks. In total, they were able to pull together $7.34, along with a hunting knife in a sheath, an extra pair of socks, and a canteen. Pocketing the money, they threw the other items in the pillow case. As they walked back to the door, Frank pulled on Heyes' arms and thrust something in his hands. Heyes looked down at the cloth kit that held his most prized possession, "Frank, we can't take your picks, these were your Pa's." He tried to hand them back, but the boy refused.
"You need them more than I do. Plus, I can make some more, I've gotten pretty good at it. Just wherever end up, don't forget about us."
Taking another look at the picks, "I won't. Take care of the boys for me. Keep an eye on Henry, he'll try to take over once I'm gone, don't let him. Tell him I told you what he said on his first day here, that'll keep him in line."
"What did he say?"
Heyes shook his head. "Just him thinking you know will be enough. Take care of Charles. I don't care how many beatins' you have to take. Don't let him get one."
"I'll take care of all the boys. You have my word."
He put out his hand and Heyes accepted it. Each of the boys stood and said their goodbyes, little Charles ran up, wrapping his arms around his waist. Once all the good-byes and best wishes were offered, he and the Kid quietly made their way out of the room and down the hall. Their first stop was the kitchen. Using Frank's nice shiny picks, they opened the pantries and filled their sacks with as much as they thought they could carry. Leaving the kitchen, Heyes went down another hall towards the classrooms, testing the knob, the door was unlocked. After telling Kid to keep watch, he ducked in the room only to reappear a moment later.
"What did you get in there?" Kid asked.
"I'll tell you later. Let's go."
As quiet as a mouse, they crept through the halls. At each corner, they would carefully look, verifying that no one was on the other side before they walked around.
As they reached their final destination, Kid stopped. It was The Room. Seeing him stop, Heyes whispered, "C'mon."
"Why in there?"
"It's the only way out. All the other doors go out into the yard; we'd have to climb a fence."
Listening at the door, he heard nothing. Using the picks, he opened the sitting room; it was empty, as was Mother Superior's office. Her office mirrored that of Father Mulligan. Dark wood panels, a heavy desk in the middle. Except on her desk, scratch marks bore evidence of the abuse that took place within the room. On the far wall, the leather belt hung on a single nail. Grabbing it, he stuffed it in the pillow case. Heyes knew it would be replaced, but took it nonetheless.
Crouching at the door that led outside, he again worked with the picks, manipulating the lock. Just as he heard the lock release and he felt the tension give way, he heard a voice from behind, "Heyes!"
With a start, he stood, Kid at his side. Behind them stood Sister Mary wearing her night gown and carrying a lighted candle, she ran up to them. Placing the candle on the desk, she pulled her gown tighter. "What do you boys think you are doing? If Mother Superior were to find you were in here…" She reached down and cupped young Kid's face. A look of sadness passed over her eyes as her hand went over the red welts that had formed on the back of his arms. "You need to go back to detention, now."
Heyes nodded. "No ma'am. We can't."
"What do you mean you can't?" Looking down at his feet, she saw the heavily laden pillow cases as a realization came to her. "You boys weren't planning…?"
"Are planning, Sister." Heyes spoke, shamefully.
"No sir. I am taking you back."
"If you must." She turned to grab the candle. "But if you do, Mother Superior will know and she'll beat me. Afterwards, I'll run again. When I get caught, she'll beat me, again." His voice slightly wavered. "And I'll keep doin' it. Sister Mary, I'm leavin' this home, and if I have to go into the ground to do it, then so be it."
Placing the candle back on the desk, she faced the broken boys. Heyes had never spoken a word that didn't have at least a shade of dishonesty, until now. For the first time since she met him, she knew every word he spoke was true. "Where will you go?"
Heyes shrugged, "Anywhere is better than here."
Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a few bills and placed it in his hands, "Take it."
Both of the boys looked at the money, then back up at the sister. Kid asked, "I didn't think nuns were supposed to have money?"
"We aren't. I confiscated that from some of the older boys tonight, they were playing poker. Our Lord puts us where we need to be. We don't always understand why. The one thing I do understand is that my Lord tells me to protect those around me. I haven't always been able to do that, but tonight I can." She ran her hand through Heyes' dark hair.
"You'll give us time to get away?" Heyes pleaded.
"I want your word that you two will take care of each other. I want your word that you will keep each other safe and out of trouble."
Kid gave a half smile, "You have our word that we will keep each other safe."
"And out of trouble?"
Instead of an answer, Heyes wrapped his arms around the sister, laying his head on her shoulder, trying to convey in that moment what he could not say in words. "Thank you, for everything."
Releasing her, he grabbed his things and with Kid behind him, walked out into the night.
The fire crackled as Heyes sat with a book in hand. His eyes strained as he tried to read the words on the page in the early morning light. "Did you get rid of it?"
"I threw it in the river." Kid had been sent out with two simple instructions; find something for them to eat and get rid of the belt. As he sat, he grabbed the book from Heyes' hands, "The Advanced Reader? This is what you went in to get?"
"Just cause we won't be getting' a formal teachin' doesn't mean we should give up on learnin'. I also grabbed a couple of the arithmetic books; I ain't gonna be runnin' with a fella that can't count to ten."
There was that smile again. "Well, all your readin' and countin' ain't gonna feed us." From his right, he tossed a dead rabbit in Heyes' lap. "You think you're smart enough to skin it so we don't starve?"
"Smarter than that." As he worked, he saw a reflection from the fire to his right, just next to Kid's thigh, "What's that?"
Kid pulled out a shiny revolver. "When I went to get rid of the belt, I saw a town over yonder, I broke into the General Store, figured we could use it. Since you're all fired up about being the smart one, one of us needs to know how to use a gun. Besides, my pa was a pretty fast draw back before the war, for fun he would show me a few tricks. Figured with just a little practice, I could keep us safe."
"Sounds like a plan, a surprisingly good one at that. Comin' from you, that is." For the first time in ages, both boys genuinely laughed.
As the rabbit cooked on the fire, Heyes read, while Kid practiced the fast draw, both unaware of the adventures that lay ahead.