Author's Note
.｡｡*ﾟi hope you're staying safe and being kind to yourself! .｡｡*ﾟ
Love youuu 💗
𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚
HOUSE OF REFUGE 1897
Jack felt like his arms were going to fall off. His back ached, and he could already feel frostbite stinging the back of his neck. He wiped the cold snowflakes from his forehead with the back of his hand, glaring down at the icy, frozen ground below his boot-clad feet. He and a few others had been given hard labor to make an example for what went on in the canteen the evening prior. And now they had to shovel snow. Frozen-solid, heavy, mounds of snow off the pavement and sidewalks of the entire Refuge estate.
A guard strolled by for about the hundredth time that day, supervising their work and making sure no one was slacking. A few feet away, Whalen sat warmly bundled up on a bench. He was blanketed by a white and green striped quilt, holding a hot drink with a gloved hand. He was reading, holding a book with the other hand. Beside him sat a small table with a thermos of hot tea, a few more folded blankets, a newspaper, and a pair of binoculars. His scowl never changed whenever he glanced at the inmates he was meant to be supervising.
The large ferry boat that transported islanders back to the city remained docked in the cold water. The captain leaned against it in a large coat as he spoke with Mrs. Anderson, who'd brought him a hot beverage.
Jack was brought back to his work when Crazy dropped a shovel-full of snow right next to where he was standing. "Dr. Fuller sure kept his promise about making it easier for us here," he said bitterly.
"This ain't his fault," Jack said.
Crazy scoffed. "Come on. He's one of them," he said, nodding over at Whalen. "In here, there's either them or us."
Calico staggered over, coughing painfully, cold air pouring like smoke from his mouth at each fit. "Fuller doesn't know we're out here," he rasped.
Jack looked toward the captain and Mrs. Anderson again.
"Fuller knows," Tide muttered, joining them. "And he doesn't give a shit,"
They were quiet for a little while, continuing to shovel a clear path.
After Calico moved a particularly heavy patch of ice off the front walk, he froze and put a shaking hand to his own heart, wincing. Almost trance-like, he slowly stumbled over toward Whalen, dragging his shovel behind him.
"Hey, where are you going?" Tide called after him.
"I-I need...sm'water," he muttered, trying to catch his breath. His eyes were half-closing as he staggered over.
"Madonna santa, are you insane? Just eat snow," Lion whispered, watching Calico walk away.
At this point all six of the boys had stopped what they were doing to watch Calico approach Whalen. Before Calico could say anything to the stern man sitting on the bench, a guard walked up to him, blocking his path.
"What are you doing?" He asked, baton in hand. "Get back to work. I didn't call break."
"Please," Calico said, his voice hoarse. "I need water."
"Calico, don't," Jack said, digging his shovel into a pile of snow.
Suddenly, the guard grabbed Calico by his thin shoulders, making him flinch. The guard turned him around and shoved him back toward the other boys. "I said get back to work."
"What's going on?" Whalen interrupted, walking over to the commotion, glaring accusingly at Calico.
The guard frowned. "He says he needs water."
Whalen looked fed up, grabbing Calico's shoulder. He threw the frail boy to the ground. "Back to work. No water 'til lunch," he said. "You had your chance for water last night at dinner, but you boys thought you'd be disruptive. Now you can pay for your antics. You did this to yourselves," he said with a smirk before walking back to the bench.
"Alright!" A guard blew his whistle. "Show's over. Get back to work,"
Jack helped Calico back to his feet, steadying him to keep his balance. "You okay?"
Calico didn't answer. He tried to shovel more snow, his arms shaking. Immediately, Calico broke into another round of coughs.
"Hang in there," Jack said. "It's only a few minutes 'til lunch."
Again, Calico said nothing. His eyes rolled back to his head and he swayed backward. In an instant, he dropped his shovel, watching it fall before he, too, collapsed.
"Hans!" Jack cried out, dropping to the ground next to him. He rolled the older boy over, pushing the sweaty hair out of his flushed face.
Some of the others rushed over. "Shit, he's out cold," Z said, hovering over him.
"Okay, get back," A guard said, rushing over.
"Hans?" Jack checked his pulse desperately, horrified by the notion of Calico being dead. Again.
"Get back. Don't touch him," the guard said, shoving Jack away. "It's the cold."
Whalen appeared next to the guard, apparently irritated. "Get him inside and get him water. The rest of you get back to work or no lunch."
The guard scooped up the tall Calico so easily, Jack would think he weighed nothing. He slung him over his shoulder, carrying the unconscious boy toward the front entrance.
Jack watched as the guard set Calico down on a step and smacked him, bring him around. Calico shook his head in a daze, looking lost as ever. Mrs. Anderson moved to assist, helping him stand, easing him inside the building.
A whistle blew and a guard announced, "Alright, lunch. Line up. Ten minutes,"
A small brown table had been set up, on which was a basket of rolls and cups for hot tea.
The boys lined up eagerly as the guard served them.
Jack wanted to pass out, too. He ignored his growling stomach and scanned the area for anything to take his mind off food. His eyes landed on the ferry boat, then to the front entrance that Mrs. Anderson and Calico had disappeared through.
She'd reemerged from the door, descending the steps with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She noticed Jack staring at her and smiled.
Jack snapped his eyes away, taking the roll and tea offered to him. He sat down against the fence with the others.
"Another hour of this, and I'm going to lose my fingers," River said, observing how red his bare hands were from the cold. "Can't believe I'm saying this, but I miss the fire."
Crazy sighed. "Don't think about it. That's what they want. That's how they break you."
A small, soft whimper was heard from behind Jack. It was high-pitched and quick. Jack turned around to see a tiny cottontail rabbit the size of a teacup shivering in the cold.
"Hey, look," Jack said, cracking a smile through chapped lips. "C'mere," he said to the little rabbit, snapping his fingers. He scooped it up and showed it to the others.
"Damn, it's so cute," Lion said, beaming at it. "Must be a baby."
"I'm surprised it's still alive," Jack said, petting it softly. "It'll freeze out here."
"It's lucky to be free," Tide added.
Jack smiled. "Hey, you think we could keep it?"
"Yeah, like a class pet," Z laughed.
"Snyder don't allow pets," River reminded them. "Remember what happened to Calico's cats?"
"But it'll die out here if we don't feed it," Jack said with a frown, holding the rabbit close.
Crazy elbowed him. "Lose the bunny. Here comes a guard."
Jack quickly tucked the rabbit under his shirt and pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms loosely around himself to conceal the animal. The boys stared off into space as the unsuspecting guard walked briskly by.
Jack then slowly took the rabbit out, and it gave another soft whimper. The others fawned over its droopy dark eyes and fluffy tail, wanting to hold it, momentarily forgetting the hardships of the day.
That night, the outside of the reformatory was empty, save for a few guards strolling the newly paved sidewalks.
Calico sat in his bunk holding the tiny rabbit in his hands as it eagerly ate the leftover bits of bread that Fleet managed to sneak. Most of the others had surrounded the bunk, thinking up names for the newest addition to the dormitory.
"She's yours if you want her, Calico," Jack said with a smile. "She can replace your cats."
Calico beamed. "I think I'll call her Hase," he said as Grim chuckled. "It means bunny."
"You think when that rabbit grows up, it'll catch mice?" Atlas asked.
"Maybe we could train it to be a guard rabbit and go after Whalen," Rails joked, and the others broke into laughter.
Muggs, who had been distant and quiet in his bunk, spoke up suddenly. "Unless Whalen finds out you brought that rodent in here," he said through his teeth.
The boys went quiet. Grim stood up and walked over to Muggs' bunk, leaning against the post. "But Whalen ain't gonna find out, is he, Muggs?"
Muggs jumped down from his bunk and faced Grim. "I ain't taking the fall for having it in here," he growled. "I'm sick of taking beating after beating."
Grim kept a steady expression. "Well, there's going to be more beatings if you snitch about this rabbit. Understand?"
"That a threat, Krause?" Muggs spat, glaring at him.
Grim nodded, maintaining eye contact. "I don't know, Tracey. Do you feel threatened?"
The dormitory doors opened and a shrill whistle sounded. "Line up," Whalen called as he entered.
Quickly, Jack hid the rabbit under Calico's blanket before hurrying to get in line with the others.
Muggs noticed this and stared at the blanket in deep contemplation. Grim shot him a warning glare.
"Alright, roll call," Whalen announced.
As he walked down the line, the boys mumbled their names one by one. When attendance had finished, Whalen walked to the door. "To bed, no talking," he said. "And keep your hands above the blankets, or I'll start tying your wrists again. They only get washed once a month." With that, he shut the door behind him, flooding the room with darkness.
As the boys shuffled sleepily to their bunks, Calico crept over to his blanket and threw it back. He scooped up the tiny rabbit and got in bed, snuggling it against his face.
Calico smiled down at the little creature as it tried to dig under the thin mattress. Its little paws kept getting tangled in the sheets.
Jack couldn't help but smile at how alive Calico looked.
"Hey, Jack," Calico whispered. "Do you think it would be okay if I called her Dolly, instead? That was the name of one of my cats."
Jack nodded. "Of course."
Calico smiled softly and settled back in his bed, cuddling the little rabbit next to him. The tiny creature gave a soft hum as it tried to climb on top of the pillow. The noise echoed throughout the dorm, eliciting chuckles from the other boys.
Snyder stewed in his office, settled in his desk chair, taking a sip from a half-empty cup of coffee.
Whalen sat on the other side of the desk, drinking from a cup of his own.
Dr. Fuller, who had been pacing Snyder's office impatiently, frowned at Whalen from across the room.
Snyder looked at his pocket watch and then back at Fuller. "You've got five minutes," he said to him.
Fuller nodded. "My concerns, Warden Snyder, lie in the medieval torment of inmates at the hands of this man," he said, pointing at Whalen. The dormitory orderly scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Hans Kramer was brought to the infirmary today, suffering from hypothermia. Logan McGurk told me the boy was refused water," he said in disgust, turning to Whalen. "What did you serve the boys for lunch?"
Whalen paused a moment and shook his head. "I don't recall," he said.
Fuller glared at him. "I'll tell you. Bread and tea. And furthermore, those boys were in the cold without proper clothing. No hats, mittens, scarves, coats."
"It was too cold to serve anything else," Whalen insisted with a wave of his hand. "A large meal would've frozen."
"Those boys might've frozen," Fuller hissed.
Whalen shrugged and took another swig of coffee.
Fuller glanced at Snyder. "My God, Warden, open your eyes! This man is conducting a homicide mission at your institution. He is well out of order."
Snyder stood up from his chair. "I believe Mr. Whalen is following orders," he fumed. "My orders."
Whalen sneered. "We can't make the boys, if we can't break the boys first."
Fuller was speechless for a second, focusing on him. "Mr. Whalen," he said in a much calmer voice. "I am very much aware of the importance of penance. What I am worried about, however, is your system of punishment, specifically the boys in your dormitory."
Whalen looked distracted. "I'm simply penalizing those who refuse to seek morality."
"I would hardly call those boys immoral," Fuller thundered. "Whatever hold you have over them, it's most damaging. I don't know what it is, but I've seen that poor boy break down in my office. The one who's medal you destroyed. If I find you've been torturing him or any of these boys, I swear I'll—"
"Enough," Snyder said. "You're wasting my time with your baseless accusations. And you will not make threats here."
"Pardon me. I would hate to waste your time," Fuller snapped. "I'll just file my report to the Board, to Commissioner Roosevelt, and see what they have to say about this!"
Fuller stormed to the door and slammed it closed behind him.
Whalen turned back to the warden. "I knew that quack doctor would be trouble," he barked.
"Don't worry about him," Snyder replied, reclining back in his chair. "That report will never pass my desk. I'll fix it," he said, standing up and walking around to the other side of his desk. "Make sure you take care of that Sullivan boy," he ordered darkly. "He talks too much for his own good."