The Girl who was a Gentleman (Victorian Romance, History)

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The Girl who was a Gentleman (Victorian Romance, History) Page 10

by Anna Jane Greenville


  Terry, by this time, was shivering but tried to look brave. Larry showed fewer signs of fear. He was much calmer than his friend. If it weren't for his eyes that were bulging quite unnaturally, he might have fooled me into believing he was unaffected. I grabbed both their hands, and squeezed them. When they looked at me, I gave the two boys a reassuring nod. Nothing brought the courage into one’s chest like friends who needed encouragement. Terry's face formed into a grimace that must have been intended for a smile.

  The glass-breaking cry of wild animals broke out all around us. The younger boys pushed closer together. All lights went out abruptly. The cries only gained in volume. I clasped my ears shut unable to bear them.

  Shuffling movements echoed in the hall with a disorienting effect. Somebody grabbed my arm and pulled me away from Terry and Larry whose hands slipped from mine despite my efforts to fight it. Whoever it was wound a cloth around my head. My own heartbeat hammered loudly in my ears. The small amount of light coming through the fabric let me know the lamps had been lit once more. I wanted to yank the cloth from my head.

  'Leave it,' commanded Greenfield and slapped my hands away. The fact that it was he, who was beside me, provided a little bit of solace, but not enough to calm my nerves. My trust in him was deeply shaken, if I found out he had anything to do with the night I had been splashed with water on the school green, I would strangle him with my own hands.

  'Now, gentlemen,' chuckled William Chester, 'would the pledges be so kind as to step forward.'

  The pledges were shoved forward. Not all of them as lightly as I, and I heard them sprawl on the floor and scramble to their feet. Distasteful laughter followed, and I began to curse this night.

  'No word must pass from your lips about what you see or hear in this sacred night, and henceforth all events linked to it. Ever. To Anyone,' proclaimed Chester and the crowd started moving.

  Greenfield guided me through another tunnel way. Some of the blindfolded boys seemed to have more trouble with their guides, stumbling into one another and the wall, to the older boys' great amusement.

  The acoustics of my surroundings changed. The many footsteps echoed into a much narrower tunnel above our heads. The smell of fresh fog reached my senses and with it a cold draft. Greenfield made me halt. Finally, he took the cloth from my face. Shining down on us through a dried well was the spotted light of the full moon. A circle formed and Chester entered its centre. With his face hidden in the shadow and his back illuminated by the silver giant in the sky, he paraded past his victims and accomplices.

  'All that separates you from becoming one of us is this very short climb,' he said. 'For you must prove yourselves worthy!'

  While he waved up his hands into the light of the moon, I estimated that 'short climb' to be a good six metres. I was entirely certain he was joking in order to continually scare the younger boys, which he had so far successfully managed. But suddenly he turned to Terry, Larry, and me.

  'Should we begin with the second-years?'

  The suggestion was met with encouragement from everyone but the three of us.

  'How about you, Terrence Barclay? Are you man enough, or would you prefer to hide behind,' his eyes turned to mine, 'a girl!'

  My blood ran cold. Time stood still for a moment. Was he merely trying to insult me, or did he actually know?

  'I am not a girl,' I growled through gritted teeth.

  'Prove it!' he came closer.

  I glared at him with hatred emitting from my every cell.

  'Climb the well, and I will take my words back,' he hissed with his face only inches from mine.

  I shoved him hard against the shoulders. He stumbled back but made no attempt to come at me, coward that he was. Greenfield stepped between us. Silence lay thicker than fog. William Chester adjusted his collar and regained his composure. Under the protection of Greenfield's broad back, he smiled.

  'I think Ryde is a girl, a weak and scared girl!' he announced.

  The boys around us stirred. With the heat flushing my cheeks, I made a step forth. William Chester drew back ever so slightly. Rajesh Greenfield's hand on my shoulder stopped me. This time I slapped it away, and pushed past the two boys.

  'I do hope I fall, William Chester,' I said loudly, 'and bury you underneath me!'

  He glared at me with his small, rat-like eyes. He too, hoped I would fall.

  Cheers went about as I put my hands flat on the stonewall. I could not help but feel elevated by the encouragement. To Elizabeth's great vexation I had spent nearly my entire my childhood in trees.

  Blood, rich with adrenaline, pumped through my veins, and my mind was as alert as ever. I grabbed one big stone sticking out from its neighbours, and positioned my foot in a crack. A branch hung low growing from the soil behind the wall of the well, and I tested it with my other hand, and entrusted it with some of my body weight. Searching for more cracks, and more protruding stones to positioned my hands and feet in. I gradually moved up. The higher I went, the quieter the boys on the ground became – well aware of the consequences a fall could have.

  The well was deep, and my arms began to feel the weight of my body keenly. When the rim was within a meter of my reach, my breath was heavy and my fingers sore. That was when, the boys resumed cheering. Particularly, the younger boys grew very loud. It raised my spirits and my confidence, as I threw my leg over the edge of the well. I came out in the backyard of the church which I had looked at so many times from the windows of the classrooms in the Academic Building. It looked deserted and eerie in the blurry moonlight. The sensation of a chilly fog on my hot skin was my reward, as well as the respect in the faces of the first and second years. Only William Chester clapped his hands half-heartedly with annoyance vivid in his features, while Rajesh Greenfield did not betray any emotions at all. In his face there was neither relief, nor disappointment.

  'Say it!' I shouted down at Chester from my superior position.

  'Well done, Ryde. You proved you are a man,' Chester admitted grudgingly. But then he smiled, 'you are now a worthy member of our society.'

  That very moment I was much in doubt if he had ever climbed that well himself or done anything to prove he was worthy of anything other than empty words. It did not keep him from making more of his exaggerated proclamations at the other boys.

  'May the next man be put to the test,' he shouted with tasteless drama like a carny at a fair.

  How stupid of me to have been provoked by someone like him. But then, he had very much shocked me by voicing what I feared most. I almost believed he meant it.

  William Chester paced past the boys in night-gowns who clung to each other like puppies. Again, he addressed Terry. His followers supported him in his efforts to hurt the chubby boy's pride.

  The poor creature looked up with his big reddening eyes, and I hoped he would not do it, I told him to leave it. But he ignored me. Terry would probably do anything to establish his position among his peers. And who was I to judge him after having been easily manipulated, myself? The other voices were louder than mine, and my opinion was not a popular one. Thus, Terry grabbed the first pair of stones. His feet tried to find space in the cracks, but he slipped and fell on his bottom. Hysterical laughter filled the well to the rim.

  By grabbing the stones for a second time with his round hands, he made me understand he was not likely to give up. Without further ado, I flung my legs over the edge of the well, and went down. Terry, not having come very far in his second attempt, stepped back, and allowed me to descend. Murmur went about the spectators.

  'Don't listen to them Terry. This is silly. We should never have come in the first place. Anybody willing to follow Chester is a fool. They can keep their stupid games. Let us go back.'

  Throughout my speech he stared at his feet with a grim and resolute face, while the other boys murmured and mumbled disapprovingly – but not one of them dared to speak up and address me directly. Chester clenched his fist, but he too kept a distance. I had left an impression on
them all. It made me self-conscious.

  'No, Jo,' he said fiercely as a flashing pair of black eyes met mine, 'if you can do it twice then surely I can climb the well at least once!'

  I could see how the fear in him fought the determination he tried to build up.

  'In that case, we shall climb together. I will show you how.'

  A spark rose his eyes to mine. Heartfelt gratitude evaporated from his lips no louder than a whisper. He was relieved – I, far from it. My limbs were already fatigued. But I could not leave Terry to be the target of ridicule and self-depreciation.

  'Be careful,' I begged of him.

  He nodded a great deal more cheerful.

  The wolves, seeing our boring discussion had finally come to an end, howled their encouragements with newly found enthusiasm.

  Every move of mine I checked several times over to make sure Terry would be able to follow. Although his breath became more laborious with every further climb, he smiled every time I looked down at him. With two metres to go, I felt my arms become very heavy, indeed. The strain became unbearable. My legs weakened. Regardless I pushed my weight upwards.

  Then it happened. I heard a gasp beneath me, and many more that followed. Then a thud. A sound so dull, it made my blood run cold. Seconds later a devilish cry ripped through the air.

  Chapter 12

  LESSONS IN LOYALTY

  My body trembled with such ferocity that I dared not look down. Hastily, all my fatigue forgotten, I descended the stone wall. My feet slipped as I tried to be faster than the circumstances allowed and was thus forced to jump from higher up than I would have wished, but I did not feel the impact quite so keenly because on the bottom of the well lay Terry. The pain yelled brutally from his lungs. One of his legs was twisted in a way in which legs normally would not bend.

  'Bring Dr Hanson,' I shouted at the others trying hard for my voice to be carried further than Terry's screams but there was only Larry to receive it. Everyone else had disappeared. I struggled to believe it. Certainly, Greenfield could only have left in order to inform Dr Hanson. He was our friend still – or had he never been one?

  'Larry,' I hissed at the ghostly white boy, 'we have to place him under Hanson's care.'

  Instead of answering, he stared with round eyes at the terrible sight before us.

  'Larry!' I hissed angrier, more desperate. One injured boy who might go into shock any minute was bad enough but two was unsupportable.

  'Sorry,' Larry whispered and I was glad he had come back to us. 'I cannot.'

  'Of course, you can. We will carry him together.'

  'No, Jo,' he said and I would not have thought possible but his face turned even whiter. 'I cannot be involved. If I am expelled my father will murder me. He will murder me with his own hands.'

  Larry began crying. And then he was gone. He disappeared faster than I had time to understand what he had said; what it meant. With despair manipulating my senses and Terry's cries piercing my ears and soul, I felt the panic stir within me. How could Larry and Greenfield leave us? I hoped, I begged, somebody must come to rescue Terry. I did not care if it meant I would be expelled, I should never have put him in such danger. If only I had never climbed that wretched well, I certainly could have persuaded him to turn his back on such a foolish dare. My selfish pride had gotten us in this mess.

  'Please, forgive me,' I breathed. But I doubted he could hear me. The agony spread through his body. His breast heaved violently. I knelt down next to him.

  'Terry, listen to me. I shall go back to find Hanson. I won't be long,' my voice trembled.

  'No,' he grabbed my shirt with white hands, 'don't leave me.'

  The sensation of his injury had made the boy's pupils as tiny as pin pricks. His pale, sweaty face made my body numb with guilt.

  'But I must bring help!'

  'Don't leave me,' he screamed at the of his lungs. Cruel sobs deprived him of air.

  I pictured him dying of shock. With a shaking hand I lifted a lamp from the ground. The glass was cracked but it lit up anyway.

  'You must stand up, Terry,' I whispered hoarsely. 'Can you stand?'

  His chubby hands slid around my neck, and I hugged him by the chest. His weight was too much for me. My own bones started to make worrisome noises. But I did not allow myself to let go. His broken leg dangled strangely from below his knee. The movement claimed another devastating scream. His skin became transparent. A fever heated his body. Sweat soaked him wet. Almost all of his weight rested on me. My knees were shaking from the terrible exertion.

  Terry tried his best but every jump he had to make for us to move forward tormented his fractured bone.

  The tunnel before us led to an intersection of two more tunnels. I chose the one with the weakly draft, yet soon there was another intersection. We walked on and on but the exit did not show. So this was why they had blindfolded us. Without knowing the way back, the only way out was through the well. I started yelling for help but soon had to stop. There was not much air in the tunnel and I became dizzy from the effort and the panic. In my arms Terry started shivering ferociously.

  But then, very lightly and far away, I heard something.

  'Help! We are here-'

  The noise became louder, it was footsteps and suddenly, Redford stood before me. We stared at each other for a long moment of anguish. Then he spoke.

  'Give him to me.'

  'Are you one of the wolves?'

  'I am Terry's cousin, you insolent piece of...' instead of finishing he clenched his fist. 'And I will kill Greenfield. When he came back to our room with a flustered expression, I knew instantly that something had happened. And I knew only Terry was stupid enough to-'

  'Greenfield? It was Chester's fault.'

  'Chester is Greenfield's minion, you numbnut. Just like all of them other spineless bastards. I had warned Terry not to get involved with them but he would not listen. I am surprised you haven't run away with them.'

  I was completely and utterly dumbstruck. Redford came about and supported Terry from the other side and lifted most of his weight from me. He led the way and we arrived quickly at the stairs leading up to the trapdoor. My heart sunk when I saw them.

  'We can make it,' Terry mumbled.

  Looking up at the stairs, I counted eleven. Each with a slippery shine to it. We climbed them with great suffering on Terry's and my part. Redford, on the other hand, did not even wince.

  We were still far from the Academic Building. Not only did we have to walk all around the fencing hall, which had never seemed bigger to me, but also across the entire green. The distance we left behind took its toll on Terry's senses. The screams turned to groans, then mere whimpers. When the tall wooden door of the Academic Building rose like the gate of salvation before us, Terry's grip around me weakened. Under great strain, we sat the invalid down.

  'Leave the rest to me, Redford.'

  'I won't leave his side until he is taken care of.'

  'There is no reason for both of us to be expelled. I deserve it, therefore I will stay with him.'

  He contemplated for a moment, then nodded, but did not leave without elaborating on the misfortunes that would befall me if anything else happened to his cousin.

  As fast as I could manage I ran up the stairs. My own weak feet stumbled several times unable to rise as high as the stairs required. I hammered at his door. He opened after a long time. Fury fought itself through his still sleeping features. Before he could put his disapproval into words, I grabbed him by the arm.

  'Sir, quickly,' I gasped. 'He broke his leg!'

  Hanson's face was momentarily awake. We were outside within an instant. In an experienced routine, Hanson touched Terry's forehead, observed his leg, and then, lifted him up, and carried him into his chamber. I followed closely. He commanded me to take away the blanket, which had been flung aside as a response to my waking him in the middle of the night, and lay him down on the bed.

  Hanson rushed in and out of the room preparing all uten
sils he would need. There was the dreaded box, bandages, a bowl with warm water, white cloths, and a set of freshly washed linen as the sheets Terry lay on were already drenched in blood. From the box he took a bottle, which read 'Chloroform' on the label, dipped it on a cloth and held it to Terry's nose. The boy's head nodded twice, and fell limply into the pillow. Deep, steady breaths followed. With a pair of scissors the doctor cut off the bloodied trousers. The skin underneath was several shades of blue that ranged as far as black. A bone stuck out in the middle of Terry's shin. I fought the urge to vomit. Hanson bathed his hands in phenol, then called me to himself and washed my hands with it. There was so much of that chemical in the air that it stung inside my nose. Untouched by it, the doctor cleaned the boy's leg and applied phenol to it as well. I flinched knowing that it would burn immensely, but no reaction came from Terry. His breaths continued in a steady manner.

  With a concentrated frown Hanson told me to hold the leg by the knee, as firmly as I could, while he would pull towards him the lower part and set the bone. When he commenced, it took all my strength to oblige him. Hanson groaned under the strain of his own task. Terry's muscles worked against the man's efforts to stretch them. The noise from the open wound was impossible to listen to. With a last push, the leg went back to its natural position. Again, Hanson applied phenol to the wound and his hands, and cleaned the high amount of blood the exertion had claimed. His entire apron and night gown were red. He looked like a butcher. Wiping his hands and tacking off the apron, he said it was lucky the bone had not shattered but was a clean fracture. The tissue, however had suffered, since the patient had limped a long way. To avoid further blood loss, Hanson stitched the wound. The way the thread ran through Terry's skin and pulled it together was both disgusting and fascinating in equal measure. I had not known skin was so durable.

  Standing beside Hanson and watching his actions in a daze, I suddenly felt Terry's blood dripping slowly from my fingers. I was covered in it to my elbows.

 

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