The Wisherman (21 page)

~

Everyone piled into the gymnasium. Oliver, Malachi, Owen, Gabriel and Alex slid into seats at the back and looked nervously at one another. As soon as the gym rafters were full, Dean Tenbrook cleared her throat. She smoothed her suit with her hands and looked out into the disgruntled sea of students before her.

“It has come to the attention of the Delafontaine Administration that a group of young men here are intent on committing acts of mischief. To be clear, we will not tolerate this behavior from our young men. It is our goal here at Delafontaine to enforce order, form, and grace. Vandalism does not represent any of our young men here at Delafontaine, and we would hate for this behavior to continue.”
Dean Tenbrook paused and smiled before continuing. “With that being said, we understand that young men need constant opportunities to form communities. We consider this vandalism a cry for help, and as always Delafontaine administration will answer the calls of our young men. On Friday night, we will be holding our end of semester annual Fall Festival on the school grounds. There will be contests, prizes, and lots of good food. I hope you all enjoy.” Dean Tenbrook stepped down from the podium to scattered, confused applause. As the crowd of students rose and flooded from the auditorium, Oliver grew nauseous and afraid. He looked to Owen, and was shocked to see him smiling wide.

~

“This is the opportunity we’ve been looking for.” Owen was more animated than he’d been in weeks, and his hope was infectious. Gabriel broke into his easy grin.

“Feels like Christmas already, doesn’t it boys?”
Alex remarked. Even Malachi’s lips turned slightly upright, and that was good enough for Oliver.

“Ssh.” Malachi remind
ed all, and he went to the bookcase to stand sentry. The library was fairly quiet today. Gabriel removed Damien’s map from his boxers and slapped it down on the table. Alex eyed him critically, to which Gabriel responded “It hasn’t been in there the whole time.”

“What’s the plan?” Oliver asked.

Owen looked at the map again, and rotated it on the table so that its right side up was facing Oliver. “We use the festival as a cover. We have room check in the morning and at night so that shouldn’t be a problem. The festival is going to be on the quad nearest the forest. Should be easy to get in.”

“Guards?” Alex asked. “They can’t cover the whole forest
line. There will be a way in.” Owen said, firmly.

“Seniors first?” Gabriel said. “Yeah.
I’ll spread the word to everyone.”

“What do we bring?”
Alex asked.

“Whatever free people wear.” Owen leaned back on his chair and smiled.

“And the rest of us? We can’t all leave at the same time during the festival. It would be too suspicious.” Oliver wanted to add
And Robert?
But the words got stuck in his throat.

Owen’s smile turned to a frown. “You said you would have no trouble getting out.” Oliver swallowed hard. He had indeed said that, but he was worried more than he let on. “Never
mind. It’s fine.” Owen’s face relaxed and soon he, Alex, and Gabriel were discussing what they were going to do when they got out.

“I want
to find out where Damien went.” Gabriel said, and he looked to the ceiling, his eyes starry and full of hope.

“I want to
catch up with the kids in my neighborhood.” Alex said.

“What will you do, Oliver?” Owen turned to him.

Oliver had no doubt what he planned to do. “See my mother.” The words were but a whisper, but he said them with every bit of conviction he could muster. Owen nodded and turned back to the seniors.

The next few days dragged like no other. Oliver found himself looking up at the
newly replaced clock in Ms. Latham’s class at least four times in an hour, but it never moved. “That’s right, everyone. Finals are coming up.” Ms. Latham stood in front of her desk. Her hair was piled up in a bun on her head, and she crossed her arms. “I’ll wait after class for a few minutes for any who have questions.” The bell rang shortly thereafter, and as quickly as it had, Paul rushed to the front of the room and opened up his copy of
Paradise Lost
. Oliver passed him, feeling strangely guilty.

Oliver walked down the hallway toward Dr. Heinz’s office.

“Hey, Oliver!” A voice rang out behind him. He turned, and to his surprise Paul was running after him, his backpack flying in the wind behind him. “I was wondering if you wanted to study for Latham’s final. It’s been a while.”

Oliver raised his eyebrows in utter surprise. “Oh no, thank you.” He turned and began walking again, but he felt a pressure on his shoulder. “

You know, I asked Ms. Latham what happens if you fail. She said you have to take the class over, next year.” Oliver shrugged slightly, afraid that if he looked too casual he might give something away.

“I think I’ll be okay. I’ll read it this weekend.” Paul’s expression changed from open to icy with breathtaking speed and Oliver felt
incredibly uncomfortable. “Have it your way, then.” He said, and he turned on his heels.

Still reeling from his encounter with Paul, Oliver sat down on Dr. Heinz’s yellow couch. Dr. Heinz smiled warmly at him. “How are things, Oliver?”

“Fine. About to get a lot better.”

“Oh?” Dr. Heinz wrote something down on his notepad and crossed his legs.

“I took your advice.”

“About?”

“The fear.”
Oliver said.

“And what did you do?” Oliver toyed with the idea of telling him everything, but something---perhaps common sense---told him not to.

“I decided that it is better to take action than to live in fear.”

“Good, good. And how does that feel?”

“Scary. I sometimes feel like I am doing the wrong thing because it seems so hard.”

Dr. Heinz uncrossed his legs again. “That may well be fear taking its last stand. You see, if fear has had a stronghold on you for some time, it is not going to let go willingly. I like to call fear the great imitator.  It can mimic any feeling, see. Guilt, anger, shame. And it does all of this to prevent you from reaching your true potential, I think. Just like many things in our world, you have to see it for what it really is. Undress it, and realize that beneath it all, there’s nothing to be afraid of. Nothing at all.”
Oliver stood up to leave, but Dr. Heinz cleared his throat. “The semester is ending soon, Oliver. I just wanted to say that I enjoyed getting to know you, and I want to thank you for being so open with me.”

Oliver swallowed hard. “I’m not going anywhere.” He babbled, rather unconvincingly, he suspected. Dr. Heinz smiled, but did not say another word on the matter. “Study hard on your finals.” He said, before closing the door behind Oliver as he left.

~

On the eve of the festival, there was a lightness about the s
tudent body. The prospect of freedom carried boys from class to class on a wave of hope and wonder.

In
History class, the energy level reached its pinnacle. Boys clamored into the classroom as if the only thing they ever wanted to do in life was take a history final. Mr. Johnson looked around the classroom. His long hair was tied up in a top knot and he held a stack of papers in his hand. “Everyone must remain in class until the period is over, even if you have finished.” The class groaned loudly at this and the mumbles continued well into the first five minutes of the test until Mr. Johnson clapped his hands sharply, putting an end to the chatter.

Oliver wrote an impressive amount on his test, though he was reminded as he saw Paul racing through his, that it was not really impressive at all. But, he thought as he looked over his final answers, it was an appropriate ending to his semester at Delafontaine. He looked slowly over his shoulder, and to his surprise, every boy in class was done. Except for Paul, who continued scribbling
away. Mr. Johnson sat on the edge of his desk in disbelief.

“Everyone is finished already?” Affirmative mutters rose from the class.

“Alright, well. Turn them in then. Make sure you pick up the winter break assignment on your way out.” There was an immediate stampede out of the classroom, forcing Mr. Johnson to duck out of the way. The stack of vacation assignments lay thick and untouched, until Paul walked by and grabbed a lone sheet before stomping from the room.

Owen had certainly done his part in spreading the word, and by English class, the secret smiles had begun again. Only, they were not so secretive this time. Rather, they were bold, happy, and proud. The class chattered freely, prompting Ms. Latham to demand recitation of the class motto. Oliver tensed, wondering if she would simply be ignored, but to his surprise every
voice rang out like a group of cheery Christmas carolers. Even Ms. Latham looked astonished, and she muttered something that sounded like, “Never seen kids this excited for finals…”

Dinner time was no different. The dining hall was bursting with laughter and joking. One junior boy started a game of catch with apples and orange
s for several minutes before a matron stepped in and scolded him. As soon as she left, the game started up again.

“Oliver, catch.” An apple came barreling in his direction and he caught it smoothly and bit into it, eliciting laughter from the rest of the table.

“We’ll leave messages for you.” Owen promised. Gabriel nodded. “Just like Damien.” Oliver smiled, and he found himself, out of habit looking up to the balcony above. With a start, he realized that Dean Tenbrook was not there. In her place, stood a burly security guard.

“She’s gone.” He said.

Owen looked up, his smile fading only slightly. “She’s probably setting up for the festival.” He turned back to Gabriel and Alex. “Do you think we can get a funnel cake to go?” Alex and Gabriel roared with laughter. Malachi pursed his lips. Oliver had an inkling of what was going through his mind as they watched the older boys revel in the joy of their impending escape. He hadn’t mentioned anything to Malachi yet, but as bright as Malachi was, Oliver didn’t feel he needed to. Neither wanted to say what they both knew: Their escape was going to be much more difficult.

And to top it off, there was the matter of Robert. Malachi vehemently denied the possibility of finding him, but Oliver couldn’t say he was surprised by that.

“We should focus on getting ourselves out.” Malachi said, as he carefully cut his lasagna into squares. “We don’t know what he may have told them, and we don’t even know where he is. For all we know, he could have told them our plans, in detail. When we find him---if we did---they could be waiting for us. It could be a trap. This is war, Oliver. There will always be causalities.” He said, breezily. Oliver winced, uncomfortable with the ease at which Malachi reduced Robert’s life to collateral damage.

“Oh, come on.” Malachi shook his fork at Oliver. “If we even knew where he was, how would we get him out? You don’t think they have five guards on him at all times?” Anger rushed through Oliver like hot lava through Pompeii. “He didn’t do anything. He doesn’t deserve this.” Owen, Alex, and Gabriel fell quiet.
They faced one another, but it was obvious that they were keenly listening to his exchange with Malachi.

“I didn’t say he deserved it. I’m just pointing out that we also don’t deserve this.” He gestured wildly towards everyone at the table. “It’s not about whether or not you deserve something. It’s about what you’re willing to do to take
it
. If you want to risk your already slim chance at freedom by going on a wild goose chase, be my guest. I’m not going to do it.” Malachi finished, and he started shaking pepper over his lasagna with unnecessary ferocity. A silence settled over the table for just a moment before the upperclassmen gradually began their conversation once more, starting with Alex proclaiming “I’ll never have to eat this
food
again. What would it be like to have lasagna made with real cheese and not cheese whiz?”

Oliver poked at his food for the remainder of dinner, his thoughts drifting back and forth between what Malachi said and what he knew in his heart to be true. To his utter disgust, the two did not differ greatly.

Night came soon thereafter, and anticipation filled the cold air like an unmistakable draft. The night was starrier than ever. The stars, it seemed, had come out to watch the show as well. Oliver stepped onto the south quad, and his jaw dropped. Before him, under as starry a night as the most talented artist could conceive, was the Delafontaine End of Semester Festival. A Ferris wheel whirled about in the center of the quad, like a giant spaceship. Around it, rides of all types threw Delafontaine boys up down and around into the dark night. It was truly a great work of art, and in that moment Oliver felt a crushing sadness, because what made it so great was the tragedy from which it was born.

"
Tenbrook knows how to have a good time. Don’t mind me. Just getting food to go." Alex appeared by his shoulder and before Oliver could turn to respond, he had bounded off into the crowd towards a fried dough stand with Gabriel in tow. Oliver followed, though more slowly, and he found himself joined by Owen who had emerged from the nearby lemonade line. His skin, illuminated by the bright red and yellow lights of the carnival looked like it was on fire. It looked as if his skin was not simply reflecting the light, but that it was coming from within.