Longevity- the Wardens of Time

by Caleb Smith

  The rest of the night gave way to fantasizing and creating. He imagined himself the hero, rescuing a fair maiden or dozens of less fortunate souls stuck in the middle of a village ruled by a tyrant. He was the quiet one who emerged from the shadows with a gleaming sword to fend off blood-thirsty heathens who enforced the evil king’s laws. Whereas they found joy in beating and cutting down the innocent and poor, Noah found joy in stepping up to protect them. He pulled his drawing pad out and began to sketch out his character in ink. The detailed lines soon covered the plain, white sheet of paper, slowly giving way to fully-formed creation. This kept his mind occupied.

  As with reading, his favorite drawing position was lying on his stomach upon his bed with his drawing pad in front of him. He flopped his legs back and forth nonchalantly while he sketched and filled his drawing sheet. As the illustrated character visibly came to life, Noah delved further into his imagined quest until he began to nod off. The drawing pad became a resting place for his sunken head; the pen in his hand dropped and laid idle. He entered a wonderful world of dreamy comfort; he was floating. Hovering above his own physical sleeping body, he had a distinct vantage point – he could see himself lying face down on his note pad, snoring and drooling mildly. He couldn’t believe it! Connecting him to his physical body was a silver cord, extended from his head. It seemed his consciousness had transferred from his body to spirit.

  He laughed at his physical, snoring self, while floating up around the ceiling like a stray balloon. He didn’t want to know why or how he was accomplishing this feat; he just wanted to enjoy the moment for what it was. But, just then, his body coughed and jolted, and he was quickly sucked back within it. He rolled over and sat up. Wow! He knew exactly what had just happened, but that thought gave way to the question of why. He was sure the book shop and his recent reading adventures had had an effect on him, but he never imagined that he could be awake while sleeping.

  Chapter 14

  Wendy was her normal self the next day in school as if nothing had happened the night before with her father. She was all smiles and full of spirit, especially in gym class. Kickball was her forte, and she pitched to opponents and threw them out with ease. On the sports field, she seemed to be a real team leader, and she also found enjoyment in it. She was a natural boss.

  Noah, on the other hand, was miserable. He did not like sports. Yet, he knew how to use his agility and small frame to an advantage. When it was his turn to kick, he thought he might be better off kicking it short – sort of like bunting in baseball – and running the play out with his swift speed.

  Ms Richards, the gym teacher, was always fair about breaking up the teams to make an even match, and she didn’t take grief from any complainers. An athlete herself, she enjoyed the competitiveness of kids like Wendy, but she also respected kids like Noah, kids who didn’t have as much to offer in the world of athletics but who embraced a small, competitive knack to use innate gifts.

  When the gym period was nearly finished, the kids were let out a little early so they could change. Noah rarely had any qualms with the other boys in his class because they pretty much ignored him. He was shocked when he saw Dwyer and Nason sitting on the benches in the locker room smiling at him when the other boys in his class came funneling through the hall to change. He decided to ignore them, but others gave them wary side glances. One even asked, “What are you guys doing here?”

  Nasons reply was quick, “It ain’t any of your business.”

  “We’re here for him,” Dwyer said, pointing at Noah.

  Noah knew they were there for him, but he continued to ignore them and quickly got dressed. As he was making his way to the door, however, the two blocked his passage.

  “Leave him alone,” a candidate for Noah’s cause spoke out.

  “Shut up and get lost unless you want to get stuffed into that garbage can over there.”

  Oliver Lake stood firm and didn’t move, but he watched.

  “You owe me for three days,” Nason said, driving his pointer finger into Noah’s chest.

  “I’m not giving you another nickel.” Noah retorted, not knowing where his feisty reply would lead him.

  “Good, because I surely don’t mind beating it out of you,” Nason answered. “Hold his arms,” he commanded his accomplice. Dwyer scurried behind Noah and locked his skinny arms together. Noah didn’t put up a fight. Nason smacked the glasses off his face, and they struck the ground. The right lens cracked.

  Oliver spoke up, “Leave him alone, Mike; he’s had enough. There is no need to beat on him. He’s half your size.”

  “You shut your mouth, Lake, or you’ll get it too. Get lost, or we’ll come after you next.”

  Nason redirected his attention back to Noah, and Oliver walked off shaking his head.

  “You wanna mess with me and my friends? You think you can run your mouth and get away with it? You think you can withhold my money and get away with it?”

  Fortunately for Noah, lunch period was before gym, and he had already spent his money. There was nothing for him to give. Besides, strangely, he really didn’t care anymore one way or the other.

  “Go ahead, beat me up.”

  The two bullies looked unsettled – especially Nason who, as leader, was not used to this type of resistance. Nason was caught in a moment of uncertainty, but he had to try to prove to his buddy that he was still in control. Deep down, he really didn’t want to beat on Noah; now he had no choice.

  “You wanna get beaten? You got it.” He punched Noah in the solar plexus a couple of times, causing Noah to gasp out loud, losing his wind.

  “You gonna give me your money now?”

  Noah reached for a breath of air, but he couldn’t find it and fell forward.

  “Pick him up,” Nason ordered Dwyer, whose grip had been slipping.

  Once Dwyer had a firm hold on Noah, Nason took a deep breath and punched him twice in the face. The sound seemed to echo off the walls.

  The pain hit Noah fiercely, but it was still not as bad as he had thought it would be. The initial shock of the whole situation was worse. Nason let him have it again in the stomach, causing Noah to double-up in pain. Dwyer then let go, allowing the injured boy to fall to the ground in a heap. Noah’s abdomen felt destroyed, and the welts on his face began to tighten up.

  “You gonna give me your money now?” Nason yelled again.

  Noah remained on his hands and knees unresponsive, so Nason booted him in the side with his foot, driving Noah into a fetal position on the floor. His ribs had been the target.

  “C’mon. Let’s get out of here,” Dwyer yelled.

  “I’ll be waiting for my money first thing in the morning, you hear? Four days you owe me. You better bring it, or this will happen all over again.”

  For a while, Noah remained on the cold, tiled floor unresponsive, curled up in a ball. Nason and Dwyer had exited the locker room, leaving him alone. He stayed there until he could muster up enough energy to rouse himself. His body hurt and the welts on his face felt warm to the touch. Grasping his mid-section with one hand, he limped over to the nearest sink to splash some cold water on his face. He looked into the mirror and realized he would soon have a black eye and bruise on his cheek. This latest development was going to bring a whole new world of problems. People would want explanations for his appearance, especially his mother who would most likely come unglued (especially if he told her the truth).

  When he was finally able to gather himself, he picked up his glasses and backpack and walked out of the locker room, slowly limping down the hall as the next class of boys were coming in. Miss Richards noticed him from her office and followed him down the corridor, catching up with Noah before he could enter the classroom. She asked him to slow down for a moment. He turned to her, and she saw the marks on his face. With sadness in her eyes, she sternly asked, “Who did this to you?”

  Noah hung his head, and his throat lumped up.

  “What happened, Noah? Talk to me.”

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nbsp; “I don’t want to get in trouble,” he answered gently, trying to hold tears back.

  “You won’t get in trouble.” She reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, a gesture that made Noah jump as if there would be another strike.

  “Did one of the other boys from class do this to you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You have to talk to me, kid. This is unacceptable.”

  “No, they didn’t do it.”

  “Who did then?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “C’mon. I’ll walk you down to the office, and we’ll figure this out.”

  “I don’t want to get in trouble.” Noah’s tears started to fall.

  She felt awful for him, and she read the situation clearly; he had been a victim of bullying, and she wouldn’t stand for it.

  “Let’s walk, kid. It’s all right. We’re going to get this taken care of so it never happens again.”

  Noah nodded in agreement.

  The assistant principal’s office had been quiet that afternoon until Noah walked in with Miss Richards. Mr. Clarkson had been sitting behind his desk reviewing some paper work when they entered his office.

  He greeted the teacher in a friendly tone. “Miss Richards, how are you? What brings you to my office today?” But then, taking a clear look at Noah’s face, he sighed. “Oh my.”

  “I’m not quite sure what happened, but you can clearly see the result.”

  “Have a seat, son. What’s your name?”

  “Noah Thomas,” Miss Richards answered for him.

  “Well, OK? Wait here for a minute. Can I speak with you for a moment outside my office, Miss Richards?” he asked the phys-ed teacher. They left the office, leaving Noah alone. He could hear them talking outside, but he couldn’t make out the words. After a few minutes, Mr. Clarkson came back into the office and closed his door.

  “Do you want to tell me what happened, Noah?”

  He was hesitant but replied, “Not really.”

  “Well, I won’t be able to do my job to make sure this never happens again if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

  “I – I don’t want to get in trouble, sir” he stumbled on the words.

  “You won’t get into trouble if you’re honest.”

  It took a moment before he could muster up the courage to divulge what had happened, but then Noah choked out, “I was beaten up in the locker room. If I tell you who the culprits were, things won’t be good for me. They will beat me up again – next time even worse – and probably more times after that.”

  “If you tell me, I promise this will never happen again.”

  “That’s a hard promise for you to make, especially when it comes to grounds that are off school property,” he countered.

  “We’re going to take care of this, Noah, but you need to be truthful and tell me everything that happened.”

  “If I tell you, will you promise not to call them down here so I have to face them?”

  “I can’t do that, son. I need to hear both sides of this story. But, this individual or individuals will be dealt with accordingly.”

  Noah issued a painful sigh before quietly answering, “Umm. OK. It was Mike Nason and Joe Dwyer.”

  “That’s good, that’s good. Now what happened?”

  “They have forced me to give them my lunch money all year long. Today, I refused and was beaten.”

  “This has been happening all year?” Mr. Clarkson sounded shocked. “Why have you not said anything?”

  “Because if I had, they would have beaten me up.”

  “Really? OK, you sit tight. I’ll be right back.”

  He walked to the loud speaker in the next room, his blood boiling and face red as he tried to hold back his anger. He had zero tolerance for bullies.

  “Would Mike Nason and Joe Dwyer please report to the office? Mike Nason and Joe Dwyer, report to the main office, thank you.” He clicked the microphone off.

  From Noah’s perspective, the announcement sounded odd – he was used to hearing it over the loud speaker. He knew right then and there that this thing would probably get worse for him, especially off school property where no one could protect him. He wondered why all this was happening to him. He never did anything to hurt or anger anybody. He always kept his head down and stayed to himself. He didn’t want to be the target of harassment anymore. He just wanted all of this to be over.

  Within minutes, the two boys appeared in the office. Mr. Clarkson gave them a stern glare before inviting them into his office where Noah was already seated. He also asked Mrs. Levy, the guidance counselor, to join the discussion.

  Noah sat ahead in his seat keeping his head down without making visual contact with the two boys. Mr. Clarkson brought in a few more chairs to accommodate the group and then took a seat behind his desk.

  “It has come to my attention that you two have been bullying him all year long,” he pointed to Noah. “Taking his lunch away. Today, about a half hour ago, you cornered him in the locker room, you assaulted him, and you left those marks on his face!” He finished off his sentence by yelling.

  Mrs. Levy looked over to Mike and Joe for a response. Mike spoke first, but his words had clearly been planned and calculated.

  “Well, I don’t know what he told you, but I don’t even know this kid. I’ve never seen him before.”

  “Don’t play games with me, Mike,” Mr. Clarkson countered. “I’ll have your butt thrown out of this school so fast it will make your head spin. I have an eyewitness who saw you leave the locker room a few minutes before he did, so let’s cut the crap right now.”

  This was news to Noah. Maybe Clarkson was making it up to get the boys to cooperate.

  “I ain’t lying. I swear, I’ve never seen him before.”

  “You’re lying to me, Mike,” Clarkson was losing his patience. “What about you, Joe? Why would you want to beat on him every day and take his lunch? What did he do to you to deserve this abuse?”

  Dwyer stuck to the plan, playing dumb, too. “Like Joe said, Mr. Clarkson, I’ve never seen him before.”

  Mrs. Levy chimed in, “Noah, would you like to tell us all what happened?”

  This was the worst moment of his life. He was face to face with his enemy, and he could either stick to his own story or lie for them. He wanted to lie to gain the boys’ favor, but what if it didn’t work? Either way he looked at it, he was screwed. He thought for a moment before answering. What would Enoch, the mysterious book shop keeper say? And it suddenly hit him. It would be best to tell the truth because, eventually, the truth would set him free. But then he looked up to all the faces in the room that were awaiting his reply. The glares from Nason and Dwyer were promising death if he ratted them out.

  “I don’t know,” he replied in a whisper.

  Clarkson tried to reassure him and urged him to say what was on his mind, “Tell them what you told me.”

  “I’m not sure what happened; it happened so fast – it could have been them, but I’m not sure.”

  “You see? We’re innocent here,” Nason was quick to point out.

  “You keep your mouth shut until you’re spoken to,” Clarkson retorted. He was fuming. “Then why are we all here, Noah? You said they did it.”

  “Well, my glasses did get knocked off. It’s hard for me to see without them.”

  “You boys go to Mrs. Levy’s office,” He pointed to them. “I’ll be right in.”

  “Let’s go, boys. Follow me, please,” Mrs. Levy directed them in a soft voice.

  “Please close my door on the way out,” Clarkson ordered.

  As soon as the room was clear, Clarkson asked, “Why are you lying to me, son?”

  Noah kept his head down.

  “Why are you lying to me and wasting my time? Look at me.”

  Noah glanced up.

  “It’s not going to make things better. Mike Nason is skating on thin ice as it is. Without your honest testimony, I can’t help much. But, if you tell me
the truth, we can make sure this doesn’t happen again. Now, was there anyone else in the locker room with you who might have seen this happen? Any of the other boys in your class?”

  Noah brightened for a moment. There had been another boy – Oliver Lake had been there at the beginning, and mentioned this to Mr. Clarkson. Within minutes, Oliver was sitting next to Noah.

  “So, what happened in the locker room today, Oliver?”

  He looked over at Noah and his eyes conveyed pity. He could see that Noah’s bruises were starting to turn purple.

  “Yeah. I saw Joe Dwyer and Mike Nason getting ready to beat on him. Dwyer held him back as Nason knocked his glasses to the floor. I told them to leave him alone, but Nason told me I would get the same treatment if I didn’t leave, so I left.

  “And you didn’t go for help? You didn’t tell Mrs. Richards?”

  Oliver replied with a shameful look. “No, sir.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well it’s pretty well-known that Noah gets bullied by these guys. I figured it was nothing new for him, and if he wanted to tell a teacher about it, he would.”

  “Well, Oliver, he’s scared and doesn’t want to tell on those boys in fear of retaliation.”

  “I told you what I saw, and it’s the God’s-honest truth, but I don’t want any part of this.”

  “It’s too late for that; you already are involved.”

  The situation was growing out of control, from Noah’s perspective. Now innocent classmates were getting dragged into this mess, and he was sure that they, too, would become future targets.

  “How do you feel about what Oliver just said, Noah? He was there.”

  “C’mon, Noah. Just tell him the truth so this will be over.”

  After another long pause, Noah replied, “I guess they’re the ones who held me down and punched and kicked me. Joe held me while Mike hit me.”

  “Good. So when I bring them back in here, you will stick to your story, right?”

  “Yes,” he replied painfully.

  “I don’t have to stick around for this, do I?” Oliver asked.