He woke up when windowpanes bounced sunlight into his face. The
book’s pages folded in awkward creases after being underneath his folded arms.
This wasn’t where he usually slept, so it took him a second to gather his
bearings and stretch himself awake.
Ichabod was still asleep, surprisingly. It must have been that
early.
Might as well surprise him.
He slipped out of the house while the sun was floating close to the
skyline with every intention to bring home something special for him. Ichabod
said that he hasn’t had a good biscuit in months, and David knew the best place
to look. By the time he went out onto the streets, he came to know the world within
the market place, the different roads that crisscrossed the huge area like they
were randomly carved into it by a child.
It hadn’t snowed in quite some time, so he was able to walk around
without worrying about freezing his toes off. The sun warmed up the winding
streets with every passing minute, and David was on the move. He knew where the
best biscuits were.
The café looked warm and inviting, with the al fresco tables and
chairs replaced by colorful windows. And the smell of baked goods was still
there. It was too inviting for him to resist. The main question lingered in the
back of his head and pushed itself to the front-
How will we get out afterwards?
…We’ll improvise.
He walked in with another customer, after noticing the “welcoming
bell” hanging from the top of the door. He had to act quickly or he would be
seen.
The whole room was a dining area, with a corner curved off for the
cash register and bakery opening. Next to the counter showed any of the
possible pastries available for purchase, all kinds of pasties, crumpets,
biscuits and tarts lined up and protected by a curved glass that made
everything there seem bigger. Continuing past the glass display was a door that
read “employees only”.
He would have a better chance with sneaking into the bakery, or so
he thought. He snuck in when no one was looking and followed the narrow archway
into the heart of the store. Huge ovens, blazing hot, baked the raw dough into
floury perfection within minutes. He stood there in a mesmerized trance- he’d
never seen anything like it.
Then he saw the tray. Set down on a table too close for him to
fight hunger. While the bakers occupied themselves, he slowly grabbed a
biscuit, then another, then another, until-
“OY! You! Get your paws of those, you greasy prawn!”
They noticed.
Time to go.
And right before he could take a bite of one of them. Just one
bite. But he got so disoriented he ran in the wrong direction. He heard the
clomping of boots get closer down the hallway. He was too scared to eat now, so
he stuffed the treats into his jacket pocket and searched for another door. He
didn’t realize that the hallway was turning to the left, so when he opened it,
he was greeted by scared eyes and screams of “thief”.
He would have gone into full out panic mode if he didn’t get that
calming feeling again, the warm rush that reached even the tips of his hair. Luckily
the counter next to the register was foldable, not solid, so he slipped through
and weaved through the long skirts and baggy pants. He almost made it to the
corner…
But a policeman had come in for his morning coffee. He never caught
an orphan that fast.
“Alright, boy! Who are you?” He held David by the collar in a firm
grip.
“Let me go! I have a home!”
“Yeah, right! Maybe in a gutter somewhere! Your name or you’re dead.”
“D-David… Holton sir.”
“Really? What are your parent’s names?”
“Um, well… Ichabod. No mother.”
“I see. One of his ‘guests’, eh?”
David’s logic got lost at that point as he stared with wide,
hazel-ing eyes. The Policeman grew a small grin.
“Have we got here an orphy?”
He shook his head, as if that was going to help.
“Ha-ha! I don’t believe it! I got an orphy ‘ere! What luck! Paul,
save the usual for me, I’ll be back soon.”
An old man affirmed him back as he started dragging the boy to the
station.
“Say, what were you trying to steal, anyway?”
David was surprisingly calm throughout the whole ordeal.
“Breakfast.”
“You know, it would be nice if you gave me some of what you got.
Maybe you won’t be as badly treated as the others.” Clearly the man needed his
coffee, otherwise he wasn’t thinking straight.
He didn’t want to do it at first, but-
It was for Ichabod… Oh, when will I see him again?
He gave him two of the biscuits.
“That’s all of them.”
“Good little orphy. You know your place.”
David made sure to time his bites with the officer so he wouldn’t
notice.
Even the station didn’t look so bad. The sun reflected off of its
low roof, and it looked small even from so close. But it got much bigger when
he was shoved in.
Yelling. Crying. Typing. White walls and black bars. David hated
the place the moment he was shoved in. His captor left him there in the hands
of another policeman, whose hand gripped his arm so hard his fingers felt
tingly. There was an area where children and grown-ups waited to be processed
where he was forced to sit. Thankfully at some point, the man’s grip was
replaced by rusty handcuffs on his wrists.
Soon enough he was forced in front of the dullest man he’d ever
seen, whose sole job was to write down everything about each convict.
“Name?” He sounded dull and monotonous.
“David, sir.” He sounded chipper than the rest of the culprits,
like he wasn’t serious at all.
“Date of birth?”
David shrugged his shoulders. “Sometime a while ago.”
The man gave him an exasperated look and wrote down “twelve”. They
always looked that age.
“Where are you from?”
He had to think about that. “First the orphanage-”
The man perked up. His job might be easier. All he’d need was the
name of the-
“Then the streets.”
“Oh.” The man turned his head down again. He’d have to fill out
another few entry forms for him if he had been on the streets.
“Hair, eye color?” He said aloud to himself. He was prone to doing
that.
“Oh, um, brown hair and brown eyes.” At least that was what David
thought.
“Uh, boy that’s not brown. Your eyes have a different shade. And
your hair isn’t brown either.”
“What are you talking about-?”
The policeman showed him a dirty mirror, and it didn’t show the way
he thought he looked. There were strands of golden yellow trickling over the
strands of brown, like his hair had been dipped in gold dust. His eyes developed
complete strands of blue and gold in them, turning them completely hazel. It
was spreading to those places, yet he felt fine. In fact, too fine. He
didn’t like the station but it didn’t scare him one bit.
“Put him in cell 3.”
He was freed of the restraints and shoved into a medium-sized
prison cell, filled already with 10 other boys that looked strangely at him. He
was the only one that sat on the cold bench and stared down at all of the
others.
“Well, what is it? What are you looking at?”
Must be about my eyes. He shrugged
away the stares. He was already used to it.
Most of them looked tiny and vulnerable, holding themselves in
tight bundles and protecting themselves with eyes as big as shields.
They just sat in different side of the room. It felt like forever
before one of the bigger boys asked: “Aren’t you scared?”
He turned to him, brushing his dirty blonde bangs away. “Scared of
what?”
“Scared of getting sent to a… an orphanage?”
While the other boys shuttered, a chill ran down his spine. He
didn’t realize the consequences of the situation. Was he getting sent back?!
Yet, he was unnaturally calm about the whole situation. A cool
chill blew in through the window, high above climbing distance. He didn’t mind.
It felt like a calming breeze.
“No. Not really.”
“You’re not?” Another boy
moved towards him in interest.
Another boy peeped in. “Have you been there before?”
“Well… yes.”
The other boys came closer, but not all at once. The braver, bigger
ones –some even bigger than David- sat near the bench, the others curled up at
his feet. He could tell that they wouldn’t hurt him. If they tried, he wouldn’t
hesitate to defend. They were scared.
“What’s it like?”
“Um, well…”
Should I say the truth and scare the wits out of the kids? Or lie? Hmm…
“It feels…safe.”
“Safe? How?” Another boy perked up, his hat covering most of his
head.
“Well, you’re covered by a roof each night. They give you meals.
You can play all you want. All you’d have to do is recite a few silly rules to
get on their good side.”
The boys didn’t stir one bit. They weren’t buying his lie.
“Well, then why did you leave?”
David took his eyes away from the group as he gathered up one more
lie.
“Because…” He drew a grin at the corner of his mouth. He hadn’t
told a story in what felt like forever, let alone one that could be real.
“I was adopted.”
They didn’t expect that.
“You were?”
“Who adopted you?”
“What was it like, living with a family?”
The questions rose up like waves. All he could do was quiet them
down.
“Quiet, you slouches. I’ll answer all of them in time.”
For the next few hours, from midday on, he told the biggest story
he ever improvised. Turns out he had been “adopted” by a rich couple and they
were all driven home in one of those fancy new cars, with plush seats and the smell
of sharp cologne and sweet perfume wafting through the cabin. They arrived at
the wealthiest part of London, with high buildings, bright lights and fancy
green bushes instead of grass. He enjoyed the most scrumptious meals, with pasties
that melted on his tongue, bathed in the warmest water and slept in goose down
pillows and heavy sheets. Even he began to sigh at the fantasy- who wouldn’t?
Then, on the second day, he overheard his “Parents” talk about his
future; where he will go to school; when he will grow up to get a degree; what
job he’ll have, what kind of girl he’ll marry, where he would end up living and
working. Like all of the other boys hearing the story, he never wanted to grow
up. He didn’t want anything to do with that stuff, even with the sweets and
comfy sheets.
“So what did you do?”
“When they came in to tell me, I didn’t want to do any of that.
They didn’t give me much of a choice. So I ran away, down the stairs, past the
guard at the door and out here.”
“Aren’t your parents looking for you?”
“Not really. They could get another boy very easily. Meanwhile, a
Nun actually helped me find a place to stay.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but then that place just happened to be that same orphanage.”
“Oh, how terrible!”
“Yeah. That’s horrible.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” He pushed away the sympathy with a scoff. “I
broke out of there too.”
“You DID?!” “You can DO that?!”
“Shhh! You want the other guards to hear?”
They immediately shut up. The guards had been passing by each of
the six cells. Theirs was the quietest, the others full of yelling, a lot
of screaming, cursing and crying.
“Sorry. What happened?”
“Well, me and some of my mates found a secret passageway, in the
catacombs. We snuck through a whole dark room filled with nothing else but dead
people.”
A hushed silence fell amongst the boys. They feared death too. Soon
the neighboring cells got quiet as they clamored to hear David’s story.
“W-what happened next?”
“Oh, wait until you hear this. The priests heard us coming up from
the other side, and some tried to catch us while we were still in the catacombs.
But we were too fast.”
David could see that one of
the younger policemen leaned against the bars to hear the rest of the story,
his keys dangling loosely from his pocket.
Then David got a crazy idea.
“Well, what happened next?”
“Well, I was the fastest of all of them, so I got away. The other ones,
they weren’t so lucky.”
“They got caught?!”
“No, but they would have been if it wasn’t for me.”
Some of the kids were getting bored. Time to spice it up again.
“What did you do?”
“I… turned back to those grubby men with their claw-like hands,” He
got up to demonstrate, “lowered my head like a bull, and rammed head on into
one of the Priests, sending him head over heels to the ground.”
Those bored kids perked up again and turned as David moved the
action to the other side of the cell, closer towards the bars, closer to that
younger policeman.
“Then I knocked the other one down with my fists.” He moved like he
was dueling with fists, jabbing and thrusting his arms with each step around
the cell. Even the guard was mesmerized.
He turned back to them with another grin. “Then the orphanage’s
guards came to take us away.”
“Oh, guards eh?” What’d ya do?” Now the policeman was interested. David
saw the keys sticking out of his left pocket. He knew just what to do.
“Well, one of them tried to pin me down, like this.” He flattened
himself down right by the guard’s feet.
“He had my arms held, his face leering over me. I was trapped, or
so I thought.”
“Did any of the other boys help you?”
“Well, one tried, but the other forced him to leave me. That
traitor thought I was a lost cause.”
The Guard leaned in closer to see how he would escape. The keys
twinkled in the setting sky.
“So I aimed one steady
kick, and gave him a ‘nutcracker’.” He smiled as he said that. Oliver taught
him that during one of the fights.
They all started to laugh
as David positioned himself against the bars and leaned in with his left arm.
The man was still laughing and David had big enough pockets in his pants.
Weird how there’s only a few keys for all the locks, on such a big
chain.
“There I am, facing this behemoth of a man, and he’s still
whimpering for his Mum. Like a big baby.” They all laugh again.
“He throws two at my head. I twist down, swing to his right and run
around him and straight out into the outside.”
The boys looked extremely awed until the guard piped up: “How did
you get caught again?”
He expected to hear some petty theft, like what David really got
caught for.
David immediately turned around and with a smug smile replied: “I
stole the Judge’s wallet. Then another policeman’s hat. Didn’t see the other one
on the horse, though. As he grabbed me by the collar from so far up, he swept
me clear off my feet.”
The guard looked mighty impressed as David sat back down on the
bench with a grin still on his face. Meanwhile, the policeman left the bars to
ask his colleagues where his key-chain went.
The children wanted to hear
more about David’s crazy life, but he didn’t have much more to say. So he asked
about theirs. Some of them came from the slums of London, others from the
outskirts. They all became groups like David had before, but they didn’t meddle
with the politics; they went wherever they wanted, stole anything, and ate
anything edible. But they wanted to be free again, to be “lost”, out in that
world, even if it meant just surviving.
“What’s the reason why you want that?”
The oldest boy there, only a few years older than him, named Tony
said it first.
“Because you only have yourself and your mates. You might be lost,
but you’re never alone.”
David knew that just as well as them. It was what he wanted to hear.
By the time they became friendlier, joking about the fat policemen
and the stupid “codfishes”, there was a rap on the bars. Night had settled in
by that point.
“Nun’s here. Boys, come say a prayer with the Sister.”
You could feel the rumble of hundreds of boys raced up to the bars.
Tony pulled David up with them as he saw a Nun glide next to each cell. He
heard the first one’s say a special prayer for prisoners, as well as the Nun
bless them.
Then the second cell. Then their cell. And that’s when he realized-
No way.
Sister Agnes?!
He saw her take a longer look at him. He felt her eyes pierce
through his changed eyes and lighter hair. Yet she didn’t say a word as she
moved on to the other seven cells.
Would she recognize him? Would she just leave him there, to be able
to fend for himself? Come to think of it, he would be better off if she left
him here. He still had the keys.
The other boys had returned to their spots. Some other boy had
taken his spot, but immediately moved away as he approached. But before he
could sit, as his back faced the bars, she came back.
“My child- Is that you?”
He wanted to ignore her. He wanted to be left here. He didn’t want
to leave. Yet she was his mother, at least that’s what he always thought of her.
How could he ignore her?
As he turned and replied “Hello, Sister Agnes,” she saw a David
that wasn’t the same little runt that ran away. Through the moonlight she could
see he was taller, with lighter hair and a confident stance.
Before she could get a guard to unlock the door, he slipped the
oldest boy the keys.
“Go out early in the morning, when the guards are sleeping. There
are plenty of places to seek refuge and I’m sure you know them.”
The boy gave a look of shock and awe as he shoved them into his
pants pocket.
“W-who are you?”
After this whole time, they never asked for my name! How weird.
He knew he would never see them again, so as he was beckoned out he
decided to whisper them some hope.
“I’m Peter Pan. I help boys like you get out of places like this.
Good luck.” He gave them a reassuring grin as he walked to the entrance of the
cell, the only boy that left when the cell’s guard was awake and watching the
door.
The two of them were soon far away from the horrible place.
He was soon tended to by the familiar Nun as his confidence began
to drain like the color from his face.
“David, my child! Why did you leave us? Oh, we must get you back to
the orphanage! Look at you- you’re filthy! I guess you’ll have to bathe and be
barbered tonight. Come, we must go before your bedtime.”
Then he remembered all of the feelings of guilt and shame he had
gotten over so long ago. He forgot about the punishments!
“What about my punishment
for leaving?”
She looked down upon his flushed cheeks and bright eyes- the ones
she never saw on him before, like a curse for going outside the orphanage.
“Punishments? My dear, if you come back with me, you won’t have any punishments
to deal with. No paddling, no dungeon, nothing. You’ll be welcomed back with
open arms. Like nothing happened.”
He would be forgiven? Like
nothing Happened?
No. It wouldn’t be the same. Everything did happen, and in that
time he had learned not to trust certain grown-ups. But if he didn’t listen to
her- what she might do still scared him.
He immediately tried to distract himself from the walk back with
memories of the fun he had before. He thought about how he was going to fight
John and maybe chase him far away, so his life could get better. Maybe he would
swing him over the big black fence.
It took too soon to reach the towering citadel of cold, grey stone.
He didn’t want to go back, but he was forced to- he would rather pick this
place than hell.
They arrived at the orphanage late at night, and came in through
the big wooden doors with metal rings in the middle. It felt like he was going
back into an escapable fortress.
She said nothing more than: “Thank you for choosing the right path,
David. You start the Priest’s training as planned tomorrow.” and walked with
him up the stairs, beyond the sleeping quarters, where the boys slept in
tightly packed rows, to the other bathroom at the Nun’s floor.
The other, more disciplinary Nuns forced him to get into a tub of
freezing cold water. As much of a nightmare as that sounds, they also scrubbed
him down with a brown soap bar and a hardened piece of wool. It took one to cut
his hair down to his scalp, even his beloved bangs, and another to rinse his
head of any loose strands. While he wasn’t able to see the results, he felt the
cold air sting the top of his head, like the hair was a sort of shield, as he
put on starched pajamas that didn’t even fit him well. He was shoved out of the
room with a worn-out uniform he was to wear the next day.
His old bed was given to a new boy, a bigger one with as little
amount of hair as he did. Instead, he was moved to the one right next to the
window, the only one bathed in the light of the outside world; it kept him up
at night, as it would to any boy whose nightlight is too strong.
So he looked out again, at the paradise somewhere out there. His
family was out there, and they’ll travel the world together. Maybe he’ll even find
a blaxburt…
Yet the world mocked him now, instead of beckoned him. The light
from the moon covered the roofs and street in a milky white, like a snow that
didn’t build up on the walkways and frost the windowpanes. He wondered what
Ichabod was thinking…
Oh no. Ichabod! He must be worried sick about me…
And what about Willy? And Johnny? And Oliver?
But most of all, as he pulled the rough sheets over his cold,
drained body, he began to wonder what would become of him; whether or not he
could keep his own warmth alive. But sleep overtook him before he could think
too much about it, and next thing he knew, he was on a familiar tower again.