The Escapist (9 page)

“George… George Lesker, Sir.” Piggy answered with military like precision.

“Hmm, a bit portly aren’t we George?” The man said poking Piggy’s gut with the end of his cane.

“I suppose so, Sir.”

“Turn out your hands then.” The man inspected him to see rather clean hands, reasonably strong. “And your teeth” Piggy grinned wide. “All fine, good.” The man went on to look under his eyelids; all clear.

“Tell me George, can you read or write?” The man did not expect confirmation as few orphans could do either and those who could were severely limited.

“A little of both Sir, though I’m better at reading.” Piggy answered with an air of pride.

The man stood mulling over the boy before him, as Cid sidled up next to him.  Tapping his boss’s elbow he murmured. “Mr Rigby?”  The man turned his ear to the foreman who murmured a few words in addition.  Oscar faintly made out something about it being ‘healthy for a boy to maintain such a weight in a place like this’.  Turning away the foreman gave a sly wink to Piggy, who just about caught the gesture.

Without sign of acknowledgement, Mr Rigby continued his inspection. Oscar stood three boys along from Piggy’s right waiting anxiously for his turn.  He knew that being a proficient reader and writer would certainly not harm his chances of success.

“You’re not going anywhere.” Edmund murmured low through his teeth, standing to the right of Oscar as he tried to bait the boy. “You’re staying here with me” he taunted.

As Mr Rigby approached the boy to his left, Oscar became nervous.  A rush of emotions assaulted him as he remembered his stay in adoption with the Appleby family.  And though a place with Mr Rigby would not be a conventional home, at least it offered a fresh start; a way to escape the wearing life of the Institute.  Lost in the memories of his bygone life and new promises, Oscar was caught unawares as he received a sly shove to his hip.  The shock knocked him off balance and he staggered into the tall gentleman to his left.

“Sorry Sir, I overbalanced.  I’m terribly sorry.” Oscar tried to sound as humble and apologetic as he could manage but the man just stood grumbling to himself whilst brushing down his jacket.

“Oscar, step out…” Matron Clarke started from the edge of the room, but before she could finish the Master interrupted from where he stood next to her.

“No. I think Edmund should be the one to step outside.” The Master had been watching every detail of the inspection and the authority in his tone was unmistakeable.  “Shouldn’t you, Edmund?”  His eyes glared from beneath bushy eyebrows, but the rest of his face remained calm.  With a slight grunt, Edmund paced out of the dorm and before Matron Clarke could argue with the Master, he had raised his hand to seal the matter.

Somewhat distressed by the inconvenience, Mr Rigby turned to Oscar to continue.  The annoyance he clearly felt was written all over his face and in it Oscar could see his chances of adoption rapidly diminishing.  Mr Rigby remained disgruntled, examining the boy in silence.  Oscar did everything he could to be useful, even pre-empting the man by baring his teeth but Mr Rigby showed no sign of being impressed.  After a cursory look under his eyelids the man turned to continue along the parade.  Even as the foreman attempted to whisper to Mr Rigby, he was simply dismissed with a wave of the hand.

“I… I can read and write, Sir, if it helps?” Oscar made a desperate attempt to regain some favour.

“Quiet, Oscar.  Speak only when you are spoken to.  Sorry Mr Rigby, he can be quite the troublemaker.”  And with that single line, Matron Clarke slew Oscar’s hopes beyond repair.  In that instant he knew he would not be leaving the Institute today.  His shoulders slumped and his once stiffly maintained composure collapsed under the matron’s triumphant gaze.

“Hmm!” The tall man exclaimed, barely turning to observe Oscar’s plea and dismissing him with a flick of the chin.  Piggy struggled to contain the mixture of pain, annoyance and sympathy he felt on Oscar’s behalf and all Oscar could return by way of reassurance was a wry smile with a shrug of the shoulder.  Further down, the Master’s expression was sorrowful, his brow wrinkled in defeat.  After the final boy had been scrutinised Mr Rigby and his foreman, Cid, crossed to where the Master and Matron Clarke stood.  As a group they swept to the end of the dorm out of earshot from the boys, while Mr Rigby informed the Master of his decision.

It was difficult to tell what was being said, not least because the boys were still frozen in their assigned formation and the conversation seemed to fill more time than one might think it would warrant.  At times sharp words were exchanged between the Master and Matron Clarke, each trying to make up for the knocks they had sustained on the day’s battleground.  Eventually the matter appeared to be resolved and Mr Rigby and Cid left the dorms, escorted by the matron.  Slowly the Master returned to the boys to announce the decision.

“Well done all of you. You acted with good conduct and maintained a suitable level of discipline.”  The old man’s eyes were still aggrieved.  “If I call your name you are to pack your belongings and be waiting in the front drive in exactly twenty minutes.”

Oscar listened distractedly, not expecting to hear his name.  Yet despite his attempted nonchalance it was a blow every time another boy’s name was called.  The final bitter sweet consolation came at the end when surprisingly he heard “George Lesker” read aloud.  At least Piggy had made it - and maybe this new life would treat him a little fairer.

A communal sigh was released as the Master departed the dorm.  Six boys trying to grasp the shocking yet welcome news that had fallen upon them just moments before; five others contended with their disappointment as slowly the anxiety seeped away. 

As Oscar helped him to pack his meagre belongings, Piggy’s triumphant expression began to waver. Attempting to reconcile the flurry of excitement with the impending departure from his friend, his resolve began to break.

“I… what, what will I do without you Osc? How are you gonna cope here by yourself?”  His eyes had developed a glassy sheen.

“It’s okay George. I’ll be fine.” In a way Oscar knew this to be true: he would always find a way to get by, but it would be harder on his own.  Worse still, now that he had let Piggy past his barriers it would be much more difficult to revert back to his solitary team of one.  “Just remember what I taught you George.  If you ever need to come and find me..”  Reaching under his mattress, Oscar subtly placed the makeshift tension rod and pick into those chubby hands.  “…you know where I am.  Now get lost and take care”.

Turning his back, Oscar was thrown off balance by a sudden crushing impact.  Readying himself to fight, he suddenly began to laugh.  Piggy had launched himself at Oscar and bestowed upon him a rib-crushing bear hug.  But it was a welcome one.  Finally drawing away Oscar turned sadly around for the second time.  Waving over his shoulder at Piggy as he left the dormitory, he couldn’t help but wonder just how slim a chance it was that they really would see each other again.

Chapter 8

With the departure of Piggy, time dragged like never before; not that it had passed particularly quickly to begin with.  Lacking a social companion, Oscar reverted to his former self but where once this was his stronghold, he now felt vulnerable in this solitary state.  Gathering his resolve he threw himself into planning afresh his escape.  He would soon possess the means to leave the Institute again, for he was already re-stocking his tool set with makeshift picks, gathered from the detritus of the workshops.  More pressing now was the issue of where he could go.  This would probably be his last chance, as the street wardens were sure to have highlighted him as a problem case and the Matron Clarke would insist upon a more severe punishment should he fail in this attempt.

Although Oscar had at one point considered enacting revenge upon Edmund, he could not in all honesty bring himself to pursue such a malicious act.  Since the other boys had been adopted, Edmund had changed very little.  He had merely become an even bigger fish in a smaller pond.  His crimes had become more frequent and all the more sinister as he relished the power he had acquired.  As the scale of disruption escalated one might have thought the matrons would be forced to step in, yet their unspoken pact with the devil was mutually beneficial.  The children were subdued and lacked the energy to misbehave and it was clear that the matrons were not prepared to surrender this perk just yet.

Sunday had finally arrived after a long, slow week and, as he once again sat on the lichen marbled bench, Oscar counted the seconds of his life.  Occasional rays of sunshine speared the ground as breaks in the clouds formed overhead.  The seasonal change would bring on more temperate conditions.  To be outside was gentler, more forgiving than the sombre inside of the Institute, so children could be found roaming the grounds on a Sunday. 

With little or no toys, the children were adept at forming their own games, handed on through generations of youths who passed through the Institute. A young girl and boy raced along lines in the dirt, using sticks to trace a path on a long gouged track.  The two ran wildly around the grounds frantically trying to follow the intricate pattern.  Lost in thought watching the two dirt racers skid about the grounds, Oscar failed to notice a small form approaching until a gentle hand nudged his shoulder.

“’Ello, do you mind if I sit ‘ere?” The girl who now looked expectantly at him was perhaps three years Oscar’s junior yet did not seem the slightest bit phased to be confronting someone so much bigger than her.  A petite little girl with fiery red hair, she reminded Oscar of a sprite-like creature out one of the story books he used to read back when he was with the Appleby family.  Oscar nodded and the girl hopped up on the bench next to him.

“My name’s Josie.  Josie Pickerell.  What’s your name?”
she said in a brave manner, only the wobble of her voice betraying a slight uncertainty.  Oscar admired her courage to approach an older child in this place, especially being a newcomer as she so evidently was.  Her clothes seemed clean and new and she had yet to acquire the tidemarks of dirt around her face and hands that all the other children had.

“Hello Josie, I'm Oscar.” Oscar courteously replied.

“Are you new too?” Josie asked, beaming at him.  Her eyes were a vivid green, strangely haunting against the bright red hair.  She was a startling contrast to the dreary children that inhabited the Institute day in, day out.  Oscar merely shook his head in response.

“Then why are you all alone?” Her small nose wrinkled in confusion.

“I just choose to be alone. That's all.”

Seeing nothing strange in this response, Josie nodded.  Minutes passed as they sat there in silence, both looking out at the other children playing.  Oscar couldn’t help wonder whether Josie actually wanted to be there or whether she was being charitable to keep him company.  Her legs swung under the bench and she fidgeted as if discontent with her current location.  Eventually Josie broke the silence.

“So when do we get to go back home?”

It took a while for Oscar to process the question; presumably no one had told her where she was. “This is an Institute Josie, it is our home.”

“But what about Aunt Aggie?  They said she would be alright.” Her eyes shimmered with hope and naivety.

“Maybe Josie, but you might have to stay here a while first.”  Oscar said.  He decided against expanding upon that answer.  He wouldn’t be the one to inform the child that her Aunt could very well be dead and it was unlikely she would ever return home.  No, that was not his responsibility.  He would be damned if it was going to fall upon him to assassinate the little hope that still existed in the Institute.  Sure, it would be gradually bled out of her like the rest, but the longer she could hold on to it the better.

“Ok, I suppose I can wait.  Do you wanna play?” Josie chirped up.

“No thank you Josie, but by all means go on ahead if you wish.  I think I’ll just stay here.”  Oscar smiled, trying to reflect the shining optimism he was confronted with but it felt hollow, a fake smile.  For him it would only ever be an act.

As Josie skipped off in pursuit of entertainment, a black shadow rounded the corner of the building.  Edmund.  Spotting the new child his eyes lit up and his jutting jaw grinned wide.  He called after her. “Hey, newbie come here”. The friendly tone sounded all the more sinister to Oscar’s ears, but Josie took it on face value, lacking any experience to ward her away.  With an ‘Okay’ Josie skipped in Edmund’s direction.

Looking on, Oscar knew the outcome was not going to swing in Josie’s favour, yet apathy held him back, effectively chaining him to the bench.  Futility sat like a weight upon him; he had been through all this once with Piggy, could he really face doing it again?  As Josie ventured within reach of Edmund his arm swung out from behind his back, brandishing a dead rat.  Holding onto the tail he flicked it towards her, rotten flesh rippling with the motion.  Luckily, Josie reacted just in time and somehow managed to avoid contact with the incoming corpse missile.  Yet upon noticing the state of the limp form being swung a second time she let loose a deafening shriek and ran away distraught.

Edmund’s laugh echoed around the grounds, as though to alert the other children to his presence.  His gaze alighted on Oscar, sitting on the bench watching yet without any sign of intervention.  Edmund shouted over;

“Hey Osscar, lost your bottle these days?”  But Oscar did not respond.  Bowing his head he tried to divert the attention and waited for the boy-giant to leave.  “Huh, at least before you were a challenge.”  With that, Edmund hurled the dead rat in Oscar’s direction.  Oscar didn't flinch; the distance was too far and it landed yards from the bench tumbling limply as it rolled to a stop.  Looking at Oscar in disgust, Edmund finally gave up.  He spat once on the floor in a gesture of disdain and then turned away to go and aggravate a group of girls playing a jumping game at the far side of the grounds.  Oscar turned his attention back to the corpse which now rested before him.

Lifeless, the rat lay awkwardly twisted from the throw, its limbs splayed out on the grass.  The mangy form had long been dead and left to rot; tufts of fur were missing and one eyeball was entirely absent.  It was almost incredible that Edmund had actually handled the thing in the first place, though it wouldn’t surprise Oscar if he had been a conspirator in its death.  As Oscar watched, a stray cat cautiously approached the hapless form.  Crouching low the cat slowly inched closer, readying itself as though to pounce.  When the rat showed no sign of movement, the cat hesitantly approached the dead body.  Creeping within reach it pawed the rat, running basic checks as to the lifelessness of the creature.

Satisfied eventually with the deceased state of its prey, the cat wrapped her mouth round the decaying creature and made to snatch it up.  However, before she could make off with her prize she twitched, letting out a yowl.  Something had startled her and dropping the corpse she darted towards the bushes, meowing all the way.

Sighing, Oscar got to his feet.  He could not leave the rotten husk just lying around and so he sought to discard the dead rat amongst the bushes.  Unknowingly he began mimicking the cat.  He too inched forward, a sickening feeling growing in his stomach the nearer he came.  Looking away for a moment to check no one was witnessing his hesitation, Oscar started.  Out of the corner of his eye he could have sworn the rat’s tail twitched.  But no, it was just as still as ever.  Probably just maggots getting to work on it Oscar thought, though wished he hadn't.  Moving closer still he stared harder at the vacant expression of the rat.  And then, in the blink of an eye, the pointed head twitched round to stare Oscar in the face.

Yellow teeth on full display the rat looked him straight in the eyes, the creature’s single eye reading Oscar as though possessing an underlying intelligence.  Oscar froze, petrified.  He found himself rooted to the ground; after all he was absolutely certain the creature had been dead.  Even now, looking at the weeping socket and the mangled body all lacerated and decayed, there was no way that form could be a living, breathing creature. Yet the face still considered him.  The boy and the rat stayed there, eyes locked on one another, frozen.  The face fixed upon him for a while, unmoving, save for the single blood soaked eyeball that flickered about the socket looking him over.  Holding his breath Oscar tried not to draw any further attention to himself, vainly hoping –ironically- that the creature might think him to be dead.  Then, as suddenly as the rodent face had turned to him, the eyelids closed and the head slumped back to the ground.  The rat had returned to its previous and seemingly lifeless state.

Blood drained from Oscar’s face and with his breath still held he stood rooted to the spot, the tickling grass around his ankles the only reminder that he was still on this worldly plane.  Finally he became aware of the struggle to continue holding his breath and expelled it with force.  Drawing in a huge mouthful of air, Oscar slumped to his knees.  Stars swam through his head and for a second, as he slouched on the ground, Oscar wondered whether he had just witnessed the bizarre occurrence.  Yet looking up to see the rat before him it did not seem likely that it was an imagining.  Composing himself and trying to cage the torrent of nerves still writhing inside, Oscar approached the decomposed form.  He tried to kid himself of his foolishness and remember that it was just a dead rat, but his apprehension was defiant and he was ever wary of the rat turning to face him again.

He nudged the form with his shoe; the light body tumbled forward showing no sign of life.  If anything his action only confirmed the death of the creature, as a patch of fur peeled off the skeletal frame.  With a shudder Oscar threw off the remains of his anxiety, now keen only to remove himself from the rat’s vicinity.  He considered moving the body to a bush again, but changed his mind when considering just how messy the job might be.  Hopefully the stray might return later on with more courage than he could muster.

Keen as he was to get away from the garden, Oscar arrived early to the canteen, surprised to find he even had an appetite.  He sat on the edge of one of the wooden tables and waited for the supper to be dished out.  The tables were again caked in food and Oscar thought back to the futile hours he had endured chipping off dried stew.  His memories of Piggy arose unbidden, greedily devouring the leftovers.  In that moment Oscar couldn’t help but feel alone.  And after all, he was alone, never understanding why the only family he had ever had gave him up, nor why he struggled to form lasting friendships with the other children.  All he knew was that he would have to struggle on his own and that, once again, the future was less than optimistic.

A gentle voice to his left interrupted his self doubt, quietly asking him a question.

“Do you mind if I sit next to you?”  It was Josie.  Her eyes were red from crying and she managed only a weak smile.  It seemed her first encounter with Edmund had made a lasting impression.

“Sure, sit down.”  The two of them sat together, a sorry pair, silently watching as the rest of the children filed into the dining hall and the staff threw down steaming bowls of grey slop in front of each setting. 

“Urgh!  This again?” Josie whispered.  Oscar merely chuckled.  He had an appetite and for once didn’t mind the sight of the lumpy concoction.

“You’ll get used it, everyone does.  This place has a lot of bad points to get used to.”

“Like Edmund?”  Josie said her eyes down turned.

“Something like that.”

The two finished their meal -at least Oscar did- in silence.  Oscar found he had little to say and even less desire to attempt another friendship.  He didn’t want another person to care about.  And anyway, he was sure Josie would be fine on her own.  She seemed a fiery little thing.  She just needed to get used to the place.  With this resolve in mind they parted ways after supper, Oscar managing a lame goodbye before turning swiftly and heading back to the boy's dorm.

It wasn’t that Oscar didn’t like Josie; in fact it was refreshing to see such vibrancy and optimism.  He just couldn’t bear to witness the inevitable trampling of her spirit that would occur despite any attempts to the contrary on his part.  Being close to her would just make it hurt him further.  Plodding towards his bunk and dragging himself up, Oscar let loose an enormous sigh before closing his eyes.  Unfortunately his subconscious mind had other things in store and Oscar could not escape the petrifying image of the one eyed rat glaring at him.  Eventually though, mental fatigue eventually overwhelmed him and he slipped toward the blessed relief of unconsciousness.