Crowam 281 (17 page)

I saw a metal tray on the floor. The guard must have slid it through the slot on the door. It was hard to see what was on the tray until I grabbed it. It was several pieces of bread and some jam. It felt like I hadn’t eaten in days. I scarfed the food down. I almost choked because I ate it too fast, the food got lodged in my throat. I drank the cup of water that was provided, which failed to quench my thirst.

Although the food helped sooth my nerves, I still felt tired. The boredom of just sitting there made time go by slowly. Being down there in that cell gave me plenty of time to think. Sometimes too much thinking is not a good thing. Your imagination gets the best of you.

Being alone was the worst. I complained about never having any privacy when constantly surrounded by my fellow comrades, but I would have given anything to be in the company of Charles, Thomas, Hannah, Felix… hell, anybody. I would have even appreciated a guard coming into my cell and giving me a beating. Just a sign of civilization. That somebody actually gave a shit about me to come down and give me a good rough housing.

It seemed like I was in another world where there was no life or death. No good or bad, just darkness and silence. I wondered if this is what hell was like. Just darkness and silence. Was death like this? Just nothingness? Or were their pearly gates that when opened brought you to heaven? I just didn’t know. Nobody new, except the dead, and they were no good asking about it.

I hated being in that cell. I felt the anger brew inside. I punched the hard floor again, ignoring the sting in my fists. I wanted to cry. I really did. I fought back the tears. I refused to cry, to let Crowam get the best of me. I hated myself for feeling like a victim, for feeling sorry for myself.

I got up and walked around the cell. I thought about talking to Joshua again. I didn’t know what good that would do. I feared becoming like Joshua, stuck in this cell for eternity, losing my mind.

I slept some more, afraid of nightmares and of what horrors my imagination could concoct. I wrestled on the floor, fidgeting, trying to get comfortable. “Trouble sleeping, Jake?” Joshua asked.

“What makes you think that?”

“I can hear you fighting with it.”

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“That’s the one thing you get to do a lot of here. Sleep. I’ve done enough of that.”

“Will they ever let us out?”

“That is the question. Will they let us out? They haven’t let me out. Perhaps Mr. Hugo will have a change of heart.”

“For some reason I sincerely doubt that,” I said.

“Mr. Hugo is a tortured soul. You could see it in his eyes.”

“You think he was always like this, even as a boy?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps some men are just born evil.”

I heard footsteps and the clinging of keys outside the cell door. I was blinded by the light that pierced through the cell. I squinted, covering the light with my hand, only seeing a figure that stood in front of the door.

“Come on, Hudson. Let’s go.” the voice said.

I got up from the floor.

“Farewell Jake.” Joshua said solemnly.

The guard grabbed me by the arm and shut the cell door.

The guard escorted me outside for recess where the rest of the boys were playing soccer or standing around and shooting the breeze. I stood alone, watching the soccer game. I saw Felix, Charles, and Thomas on the other side of the courtyard. Petey was running around, playing, probably in some far off fantasy world. Maybe children knew something adults didn’t. Something about a better place where anything was still possible.

Thomas saw me from across the courtyard. He came to me, cutting through the soccer game, agitating some of the players. “Jake! Are you ok?”

“I’m alright.”

“You look good, considering. Have you eaten?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Not hungry? You must eat something.”

“I’m sure my appetite will come back. How long was I down there?”

“Two weeks.”

“Did I miss anything?”

“Not really. The usual pomp and circumstance.”

“Where is Owen?”

“”He’s still in solitary.”

“Shit.”

“What was it like down there? “

“It was dark. Lonely, too.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through such a thing. But you are here now. Let us meet with the rest of the chaps.” This time, Thomas bypassed the soccer game as I followed him to the other side of the courtyard. “Well boys, look who has come back from the dead”

Nobody appreciated Thomas’s joke. “Why did you bring him here?” Felix asked.

“Oh, come on,” Charles said. “He’s been through a hell of an ordeal.”

“That was his doing.” Felix said.

“You know, I’m standing right here. Something tells me you don’t appreciate my being here.”

“I told you when you first came here what would happen if you tried to escape,” Felix said. “You put everyone here at risk. Now there are boys suffering in that damn dungeon because of you.”

“You think we’re less at risk by just standing around and keeping our heads down, hoping nobody notices us? Well I got news for you. Mr. Hugo has his own agenda. Playing by the rules won’t help our chances getting out of this place.”

“Since when do you care about the rest of us?” Felix asked. “You care about yourself, and frankly, your selfishness is endangering everyone here.”

“I’m the one being selfish? At least I’m not some scared naïve fool who pretends the world’s problems will go away by sticking your head in the ground and hope they go away.”

“Typical naive American. They should have left you in that cell where you belong,” Felix said.

“Gentleman, please. Stop this,” Thomas said.

“This doesn’t concern you, Thomas,” I said.

“This concerns all of us, don’t you see. Look at what this place is doing to us. It’s turning us against one another. The only way to make it through this is if we all stick together. Arguing won’t get us anywhere.”

“Why don’t you preach to Jake, not to the rest of us. You act like you’re holier than the Pope himself,” Felix said.

“Please, don’t misunderstand what I’m saying. I’m not judging,” Thomas retorted.

“Perhaps Thomas is right. Fighting won’t get us anywhere,” Charles said.

“Oh, would you shut your trap, fatty? No one is talking to you,” I said to Charles.

Charles shoved me with all his weight, knocking me to the ground. “Listen here, you. I’m tired of you calling me fat. I’m sick and tired of it. That goes for all of you. You think I’m just a fat bastard, a little piggy who just eats until he’s unconscious. But have you ever thought for a moment how I feel when you call me such horrible things? Like I’m some sort joke, here for your amusement. We’ll I’m not a joke. I like who I am. You hear me? I like who I am! To hell with you.” Charles marched off, crossing through the soccer game like Thomas did.

“I think I’ve overstayed my welcome.” As I left, Petey ran up to me, tugging on my pants.

“Come play with me!” he yelled.

“Not now, kid,” I said.

He kept tugging on my pants. He annoyed the hell out of me.

“I said knock it off kid, quit it.”

“Come on, Jake. We can play cowboys and Indians. The game you told me you used to play.”

“Listen, kid. What part of no don’t you understand? Leave me alone.” I left Petey alone; he kicked the dirt in disappointment. I didn’t care, the world could have been on fire and I would not have given a sliver of concern. To me, the world was a freak show and I had the front row seat.

I had pots and pans duty again. The dishes were dirtier than before. The smell of sour meat and rotten food filled the air. I dropped the dishes in the water, rinsing them and tossing them aside, not caring if I removed any of the leftover grime. Thomas was diligent, meticulously making sure the pots and pans were spotless. He took pride in it, I think. It was his way of somehow purifying Crowam.

“Jake?”

“Yea.”

“What are your intentions?”

“What are you talking about?”

“What do you plan to do? Are you going to try to escape again?”

“What gives you that idea?”

“I just, well, you seem to not have any regrets about your previous attempt.”

“I don’t have any regrets.”

“And what of Owen? He’s still down in that hell hole.”

I slammed the dish in the water. The frothy water splashed all over us. “Why don’t you just say it?”

“Say what Jake?”

“Don’t play stupid with me. You think it’s my fault Owen and those other boys are down there.”

“I never said that.”

“Well that’s what you’re implying.”

“Jake. I see something in you that I don’t see in the rest of us, something unique and strong. A strength few people possess. The strength of a leader. There is a reason why you’re here and it’s not solely to escape alone into the wilderness.”

“Strength? Look Thomas, I’m not interested in being a leader. To be honest, I’m scared out of my damn mind.”

“It’s ok to be scared.”

“Maybe for you. For me, I’ve never been afraid of anything my whole life. My Dad taught me to be tough. Not to fear anything. Christ, if only he saw me now. Just a scared kid.”

“Jake. Fear can be useful if you use it correctly. But I have my own fears, terrible fears.”

“Of what?”

“I think of my parents. What they went through in prison. I fear I will end up like them, where I never leave this place. I’m afraid I’m going to die here.”

Joshua’s story kept swirling in my mind. The screams coming from beyond the air vents. I tried listening for them. I heard nothing. Maybe Joshua was full of it. Some crazy bastard with a few screws loose. What did he know? “Thomas, you’re not going to die here.”

“How can you be so certain?”

“I’m not sure. Sometimes you just have to believe.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Listen. Why don’t you come with me?”

“What?”

“Let’s get the hell out of here. You and me.”

“Escape?”

“No, take a cold shower together…yea, escape. I have an escape route. It’s not entirely foolproof, but I think it’s worth a shot. Better than waiting around here to find out what else Mr. Hugo has in store for us.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes, damn it. It’s an easy proposition to agree to.”

“Yes, for most people it would be.”

“I suppose you’re an exception?”

“I would want nothing more than to leave this place.”

“Then what the hell is the problem?”

“I feel, in a way, I can help these boys somehow. Guide them, give them something to think about, to stir up that curiosity that’s inside all of us, just how I got you interested in Dickens. I could make a difference here.”

“You could make more of a difference out there in the real world. Not here.”

“I just don’t think I have the stomach to escape.”

“But you said you were afraid.”

“Yes, but fear is a normal thing.”

“What the hell is it with you people not wanting to leave this place?” I said to myself.

We finished pots and pans duty and retired for the evening. I stared up at the ceiling while Thomas read. You should have seen him, reading like his life depended on it. His eyes absorbed the words and sentences that made up each page. Reading was his way of escape, I guess. His mind buzzed with new ideas that could create a new world outside the walls of Crowam. I thought of the possibilities as I went to sleep.

At breakfast, I sat by myself as Charles and Felix sat at the table several rows away from me. I played with my eggs only taking a bite here and there. I still wasn’t hungry, even after my incarceration. Nerves hit your stomach like a bombshell. I couldn’t hold my food down, ready to regurgitate those powdered eggs at any moment. Thomas came and sat beside me. “Thought I’d keep you company.”

“Thanks. I don’t think the rest of the gang thinks too highly of me.”

“Give it time. We’re all a bit on the edge.”

“Sure…but…”

The drone of conversation stopped abruptly. I felt sick to my stomach. Owen looked just as pale and worn out as I did when I returned from the dungeons of Crowam. He grabbed the tray of food from the lunch counter, hobbling to the empty table next to ours. He didn’t bother to look around at his surroundings; instead he just stared at the plate of food. He didn’t touch it, not even playing around with his fork. He just stared at it.

Thomas and I walked over to him. Felix and Charles stood over us. “Hey Owen, you ok?” I asked.

Owen kept staring, unresponsive. “How are you feeling Owen?” Charles asked.

“That’s a mighty fine breakfast you got there, Thomas said. “You shouldn’t let it go to waste.”

Owen said nothing.

“What’s the matter with him?” Charles asked.

“He must be in shock,” Thomas said. “He needs a nurse.

Felix smacked Owen playfully on the back. “Cheer up, old boy. Say, I’m planning a little get together tonight in your honor. We’ll drink vodka and swoon over women. Wouldn’t you like that?”

Owen nodded his head slightly, acknowledging Felix’s invitation. Owen looked up at me. He had bags under his eyes, looking exhausted. “I’m sorry, Jake. I really am sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” I said.

His head began to wobble and his eyes rolled back; he fell over, falling in my arms, unconscious. “Owen!” The crowd of boys gathered around him.

“Would you get back and let him breathe.” Thomas rushed to one of the guards. “Please, this boy needs a doctor.”

Captain Longwood shoved aside the guard. “What in bloody hell is going on here?”

“This boy needs medical attention,” Thomas said.

Captain Longwood parted the crowd of boys. He grabbed Owen’s chin, examining his head. “Why, there’s nothing wrong with this boy. Nothing some eggs, toast and jam won’t solve.”

“Are you being serious? This boy is ill,” I said.