by R.G. Strike
The red bus finally came to a stop. All of the kids swarm through a completely different atmosphere. It was no longer raining, the sun hung above perfectly as the sunset fell gently over the new place. The usual rice fields that spread on either side of the road had now turned into an alluring mossy virgin jungle, gnarled and brown-barked willow trees bended over the partial clearing, obscuring the direction.
The thought about the existence of human life here was impossible, too treacherous for anyone to be at. But the place had not appeared like that to the children, who had started rubbing their eyes and looking curiously around. The two of the women, who had not slept nor rested but talked and talked throughout the ride, looked pleased as they glanced over the window.
Lightness bloomed in their faces. Mrs. Melody was at her best trying to control a smile that was rarely seen in the orphanage; Mrs. Marietta, who seemed to emit a dark glow, stretched her arms wearily, as though relieved that the ride was finally over.
“Children,” she called out, her tone fleeted the authority. She calmly stood on the aisle and caressed both of her arms as she faced them. “This place is called Juggernaut, named for some unwanted reasons, and it is here that we shall be staying. You might be wondering how such an odd and catastrophic place to visit, and it just my pleasure to say a meaningful explanation.”
She glanced at Mrs. Melody, who nodded in the outpouring of mirth as she gestured her to continue.
“Yes. Well, Mrs. Melody was supposed to be the one telling you this, but since my partial companionship with you has brought me so much joy, I am honestly and whole-heartedly overwhelmed to take the opportunity. So that, in addition, I could give you the proper senses of our arrival in here.
“So,” she continued, “we are brought here by the grace and glory of the Lord to pray and thank Him for the countless giving that He had imparted unselfishly. In fact, it is essential that we draw great praise for our very own abilities to render different forms of danger as we journeyed on.
“Anyway, I hope that this will not affect anyone of you here to cause emotional blow, but I am afraid this will be our last meeting together. Indeed, I mean what I’m saying about departing you.”
From the kids came a mouthful of solemn murmurs; none of them did not know what Mrs. Marietta was trying to let them know, but they were definitely feeling the same thing they felt back when Mrs. Suzette informed them that she was leaving, but retreated in the end. So they had a massive hope that the same thing could happen again, believing that history repeats itself.
“Er –” said a boy from the back row, his voice sounded almost like a hiss in the distance. “I just – I really don’t get why we should be departing each other, ma’am. I mean – it’s – er – like . . . like – well, I don’t get a grip of a good reason for us to do so. That’s why – er – yeah.”
Mrs. Marietta stared at her through her black pupils, occasionally blinking, and seemed to be remembering something that she knew ages ago. For a few moments, no one spoke as they watched cautiously for Mrs. Marietta’s mouth to part, but it did not; not until after a minute or so, when she remembered that she was explaining.
“Yes, I perfectly believe there are certain reasons you would have to acquire; reasons that are good enough and worth the departing. Certainly, you all have to bear in mind that departure isn’t always the last thing: Just because departing happens doesn’t mean that solace won’t have a place anymore. That is to say, yes, indeed, that we are doomed to fall back from the very beginning. In other words, St. Mayleboune could no longer afford to fairly give you the best that it has; although, in other aspect, we still did the very best decisions we can until the very end of our session.”
“I didn’t find it best, actually,” Fleer muttered in what he thought was a whisper, but his irritating voice had sounded too loud inside the bus, without the engine roaring.
“What were you saying, Denarius?” said Mrs. Melody menacingly as she finally stood beside Mrs. Marietta so that their color was entirely opposite. “Even from the very beginning, you acted that way, always disrespecting and opposing us as well. And when you informed us that you witnessed a crime of Abercrombe –”
“Please,” said Mrs. Marietta, looking displeased, “don’t bring that topic here. What is done is done. Let us focus on the present and future time.”
Mrs. Melody’s lips curled as if gagged.
“Well,” Mrs. Marietta resumed, taking her eyes away from Mrs. Melody’s embarrassed face, “the inability to see things at its best falls upon you, Fleer. We did the best we could; unless you find it not best, it would not be our problem anymore. Let us just consider that you have received balanced treatment over the long times you’ve been at St. Mayleboune; therefore, there is no reason for you, I think, to rebel against our process of raising you into wellness.”
“Reasons . . . they always tell a lie,” said the same girl who had disappointed Alex back when he sat in front of her. Her spiky blond bangs appeared like needles around her pale face.
“I admire your efforts, Melody,” said Mrs. Marietta. “You’ve done a good job raising these children of God, teaching them the proper way to respect when someone’s talking. Your efforts were indeed illuminating.”
“Oh, directress, you’re such a good joker. You made me easily carried away,” said Mrs. Melody, leering. “Well, of course the kids are respectful, aren’t you, children?”
There was a sudden chorus of boring ‘yes’ as the orphans spotted Mrs. Melody’s big eyes.
“There you go,” she continued.
“Yes, so whether you have a great idea to rebel, you should probably delay it. Now,” – she gazed at Mrs. Melody, indicating her to continue – “Melody would lead us on our way to the church.”
“Of course, I will,” Mrs. Melody agreed.
“Okay, then. Children, children! Carry over your things and bring them with you. Never ever leave valuable items inside the bus, you just don’t know; when it’s gone, you cannot call it back.”
There was a clamoring noise of excitement, and the orphans immediately stepped out of the bus into the dusk. The steam of the red bus, the martin birds swooping around the sky, and the willow trees had sank into the empty cavity of the darkness. What they could only make out were the silhouettes of the trees, which seemed to be forming weird and odd shapes.
Mrs. Melody hushed them to keep quiet, and they easily obeyed. Then she pivoted around and rummaged her bag for what seemed to be a few seconds, and came out holding an elongated cone that could not be easily described.
In the darkness, all of the orphans settled themselves standing amidst the coldness as they waited about a minute for Mrs. Melody to do something. Then, drawing the cone closer to her eyes, as though this would make any clear change to her sight, there was a clicking sound and silver light erupted from the other end of the spherical figure.
The first time that the orphans looked at it, they jolted backwards because it appeared painful for them to see the light. Mrs. Melody started walking, her foot rumbling with the low-growing grass, and was holding the flashlight at her right hand.
“Follow me,” she chided callously. “It’s okay, there’s nothing out there for you to fear. The Lord is with us, take note of that, huh. The Lord is with us, no matter what happens.”
The driver grunted behind and gestured the orphans to start tailing Mrs. Melody, and they scrambled obediently to their feet, rustling heavily in the middle of the silent forest night, with nothing to grip on but with their own sleeping bags and backpacks. Mrs. Marietta, however, had gone to a separate way to sever ties with a person with whom she borrowed cash.
They curved into a denser portion. They thought they were lucky because the path was not grown with any old trees that looked so much creepy. The girls gathered as one flock then they tightly squeezed themselves towards the boys, as though they could save them had any attack happened. From the back, the driver had sniggered at as he noticed the orphans.
&nbs
p; “There you go,” said Mrs. Melody happily.
They reached a giant structure of an aged church constructed out of giant stones so that thin gnarls were visibly creeping. Around it grew massive oak and willow trees, their branches evidently spreading along the rusty old-fashioned roofs. There was no trace of life inside, not even light.
Mrs. Melody advanced towards an enormous door and knocked for a long time, but there was no one answering from the inside and that fact was fazing the orphans.
“It’s bad that electricity connection was unable to reach this part of the village,” she had tried to convince them that it was not a white house or a haunted house. “The caretaker might have slept, but don’t worry. I’ll keep on knocking and he will soon wake up.”
Once again, Mrs. Melody resumed knocking, rather hardly this time, making out the knocking sound horrible.
Alex stood waiting at the back with John Tanner. He seemed to be bored of such thing, and when John spoke, he was taken aback.
“Do you believe monsters and ghosts?”
“Not really,” Alex said bravely. “The thing is: there’s nothing fearful about that. I mean – yes, I would never believe on ghosts unless I see one myself. You know – firsthand account would sound cool and awesome.”
“Well, I don’t know what made you crazy to think about that,” said John. “You see, all of us here believe in ghosts, and so why not join the faith? You know, it would be cooler if you stay with the ‘in’.”
“Not really,” said Alex brilliantly, “because I’ve read the Bible and have known that when a person dies, his soul was programmed to settle into a deep sleep – meaning, the souls could not come back and do scary things on us.”
“That’s what you think?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I don’t believe you,” said John challengingly.
“Then don’t. I always have things to prove my belief is right.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can prove it to you.”
John’s eyes felt satisfied that he had led the conversation just on the right track.
“Let’s see. . . .” John pretended to be thinking or something, and then he continued, “Well, it’s good that the door wouldn’t open. Let’s just say – let’s find another door around the church! I’m sure old churches do have a backdoor or a side-door.”
“That sounds easy,” Alex said, sighing. “I thought you’re gonna challenge me into a worse one, but, that’s just okay for me. I can take this ‘searching for the backdoor’ thing easy. Now, where do we go, then?”
“Ahm,” said John, looking around. “This way!”
Alex followed John, walking as brave as he could get himself managed. Then, as the knocking and the noise of their fellow orphans disappeared in the distance, Alex was sure they headed the wrong way.
“Are you really sure this is the way to the back door?” he asked John, who was walking so quickly, jumping over fallen branches in the darkness; Alex tried to think how John was able to do it.
“Yes, just a moment,” John replied, still brushing his feet on the ground. He quickly ran for a few meters then stopped; Alex could only make out his shadow.
“Did you find the backdoor already?” he asked.
“Oh, yes,” John replied. “I found it just right. You’re a fool! I’m taking revenge, Alex Abercrombe! I’m giving you worse thing than your kick. I was so pained when you attacked me –”
“It’s because you were accusing me!” Alex exclaimed moving beside John. His nerves seemed to reawake now. He was sure John could not do any worse thing to him; Alex believed that he was far stronger than John.
“No, you’re wrong! All the while, you were Mrs. Melody’s favorite –”
“No, I’m not!”
“Yes, indeed! But I’m going to end it now for you to finally rest. Do you think I was not aware that you’re making decisions with her? That she wanted to keep you with her while we, the other orphans, will get abandoned here in this ugly church institution? I know what’s happening, Alex Abercrombe! And I’m not going to let that happen –”
“Shut up!” Alex snapped.
“I won’t shut up!” John barked back. “Don’t you want to hear my last curses before you finally settle into a deep sleep?” He guffawed, but Alex was sure none of their voice could reach the other people.
“Settle?”
“Yes! I’m not going to permit your shit to luxuriate in a whole new life! Hey – don’t you know that you are the reason why Mrs. Marietta and Mrs. Melody are doing this? It’s because they saw good opportunities waiting on your future basing from your excellence at school, that’s why they wanted to educate you! They want to devote all of their money on you! And I’m hurt about that – that we have to sacrifice for you further! Now, perhaps when you already died, we might not as well be left in that old church! We’re going back to St. Mayleboune and Mrs. Melody would have to repeat the same cycle searching for a new favorite – and I’m making it sure that I’ll be having that chance!”
Alex tried to respond, to shout back at John, but it was too late. He was balancing himself on the edge of what seemed to be a cliff when he felt John’s hands grab his shoulders with incredible power, and then he dragged him off the darkness. Alex felt too numb to fight back as he fell back into the nothingness, John’s chuckle was echoing from the top as he felt deeper, lighter, and regretfully.
CHAPTER NINE:
THE EYE AND THE SKULL