The day seemed to last forever. Hannibal churned the plan over and over again in his mind. If only one thing went wrong, Hannibal stopped himself from following that thought. Nothing would go wrong.
Luckily, Hannibal had stolen some paper just before dinnertime, and Henry quickly caught on to the plan. The young boy seemed excited by the thought of escaping the prison. And as the sun set on another dreadful day in Valparaiso, the boys were led, single-file, into the bunkhouse. A low murmur passed throughout the room as the boys complained about their day or reminisced over a better life. Hannibal, Jed, and Henry all changed into the thin, shabby nightclothes like the other boys, but the smile that played on Jed's lips differed from the others' soured expressions. No one had missed the sun on his face like Jed. He missed riding horses and playing in creek beds with his cousin. He wanted to feel the summer breeze in his hair and watch the crows and hawks bicker over the big oak tree near Red Mud Lake. Jed had a spring in his step, thinking of all the fun they would have once they escaped. But as he sat on the side of his cot, his grin faded.
"Hey, Han?" He ducked his head, bashfully.
Hannibal did not even look up from his worn shoes, "Hmm?"
"I was just wondering," Jed's voice trailed off.
Looking up, Hannibal watched his younger cousin run his fingers over the edge of the cot. "What are you wondering?" He prodded.
Jed shrugged. "Are you sure we're going to make it?"
"Sure, I'm sure." Hannibal furrowed his brow. "We'll be just fine. Why are you so jumpy all of a sudden?"
"I just, well, last night, I dreamed-"
"Time for all the good little boys to be in their beds, fast asleep." Mr. Barlow paced back and forth past the cots, blowing out every candle in the room, save the one in his hand.
A hush fell over the room and Hannibal and Jed quickly tucked themselves into their bunks. From his cot, he could barely make out Henry in the dark bunkhouse. To his chagrin, Hannibal realized Henry's bunk was just about the farthest bed from the door.
"Now, have sweet dreams." Mr. Barlow said as he left the room. "I'll be just outside the door if you need me."
A sense of dread hit Hannibal. He hoped that 'just outside the door' was an expression, or they would be in a lot of trouble. He listened to Mr. Barlow's shoes tapping on the wooden floor as he walked away. Hannibal could hardly contain a relieved sigh.
All was silent for an eternity. Hannibal laid still, carefully watching the sky through the small, eastward window. When the moon passed from his view, he began to count. The way he figured, everyone should be asleep five-hundred seconds after the moon disappeared, so just over eight minutes later, Hannibal slowly crept from his cot. Jed's bunk was adjacent, thus his was the first stop. He gently tapped his cousin's shoulder. "Come on, Jed, wake up." He breathed. The sleeping boy scarcely 007Astirred. "Get up!" Hannibal huffed, thumping his cousin on the knee.
"Huh?" Jed sat bolt upright.
Hannibal threw his hand over Jed's mouth. "Shhh! We have to be quiet. I think they're all asleep." Handing the sock full of bread to his yawning cousin, he slunk towards Henry's bunk with care. Henry looked so much smaller curled up on the cot like a house cat. Hannibal touched Henry's foot and the boy immediately opened his eyes. Hannibal put a finger to his lips and smiled and Henry nodded. The three boys stood in the middle of the room for a moment, giddy with the excitement of sneaking around, but terrified of the thought of getting caught. Hannibal was the first to move. He stepped lightly to the door, opening it ever so slightly. He could see no one in the long, dark hallway. Gradually, he determined that the coast was clear and waved the two into the hall with him.
"Okay, I'll get the stable key from the Headmaster's office, you get Henry to the chow-hall and wait for me." He whispered to his cousin. In the dark, he could only barely make out Jed face, but he looked as scared as Hannibal felt. "It's probably too dark to write to Henry, but take the paper just in case."
Finding the office was easy, but getting to the office was a different story entirely. The headmaster's office sat at the farthest end of a little corridor where the alternative classrooms waited for the disobedient children. Hannibal tiptoed past the half open doors, praying there was no one inside. When he finally reached the office, he released a breath. The door was sturdy oak with a small plaque: Mr. Theodore Maxwell, Headmaster's Office.
Reaching into his sock, Hannibal produced a worn lock pick. He gave a bittersweet smile. His father gave him a few lockpicks for Christmas; he had said, 'Just in case you find yourself in trouble, I want you to be able to find your way out of it.' Hannibal remembered his mother's surprise, and then irritation at the gift. 'Are you trying to raise a criminal?' Hannibal's nose tingled as tears pricked his eyes. He shook the thoughts away; there would be time to ponder the past when they were free. Suddenly, a clamor broke the silence. Hannibal jumped. Then a realization hit them, they were as good as caught. Hannibal sprinted to the chow hall to find a couple tables stacked to reach the high window and one of the chairs lying on the floor.
"I'm sorry!" Jed wailed, "It was an accident!"
There was no time to lose. "Take this." Hannibal pushed the lockpick into his hands. "Go back to your beds. I'll be right behind you."
Jed and Henry disappeared from sight. Hannibal shimmed between the tables and the wall and shoved them away from the window. He had to keep the headmaster from knowing they were trying to escape. Adrenaline roared in his ears as he unceremoniously pulled the upper table from the lower one with another clatter.
"What's going on in there?" A voice bellowed from the other room.
Hannibal figured he had at most twelve seconds to throw them off the trail. He picked up the chair, tossing it towards the kitchen door. It had to be enough diversion; he was out of time. As he turned to the hallway, his saw a dark figure looming at the other end of the chow hall. Hannibal ran, but the tall shadow barreled towards him like a freight train. He barely touched the doorknob as a vice grip caught his wrist, whipping him around. He stared nose to nose with the snarling face of the Mr. Barlow. His yellowed eyes seemed to shine, even in the darkness, and whiskey rolled off his breath.
"Boy, you are in a whole heap of trouble."
