The Wisherman

by Danielle

Oliver’s hand began to shake so violently that he almost dropped the receiver. “No. No one told me that!” He felt like his stomach had turned inside out.

  “Well, your mother is very sick. She has asked that all callers leave messages, instead. We are in the process of transferring her to a facility better equipped to treat her.” The nurse said, apologetically.

  Oliver couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Everything was white noise. His mother’s voice would be the only frequency he understood.

  “Put my mother on the phone, right now.” He said, with every ounce of strength he could muster. The other end went silent again, and Oliver’s heart began beating rapidly. Distant shuffling began, and he clutched the phone closer so that he could hear every last sound. Low, muffled voices came through, and Oliver strained his ears listening for one that sounded like his mother. Finally, the receiver clicked again, and the voice that came on next was one that he knew intimately.

  “Hello?” She said.

  It was his mother alright, but her voice sounded dazed and far away.

  “Mom? Mom? You sound like you’re in a wind tunnel right now.” Oliver laughed weakly. A cough came in response. At first it was soft, like the kind of fake cough he used to do to get out of class. But then it continued, a hacking, then a rattling, and then silence. Oliver was going to ask her why she hadn’t called, but he suspected he now knew the answer.

  “Mom?”

  “I’m here.” She said, faintly, and Oliver felt, if possible, his stomach squirm even more. “How are you?”

  Oliver felt there something a bit perverse about that, his mother asking how he was. “I’m---Did he tell her the truth, that he’d been sent to a school that had no good intentions for him in the future? No. “I’m fine.” He said, finally.

  “Good, good.” She coughed again. “Are you doing well in your classes?”

  “Yes, yes, fine.” Oliver said hurriedly. He didn’t want to talk about Delafontaine at all. “But how are you? His mother coughed yet again for several seconds.

  When she finished, she inhaled deeply into the phone. “I’m doing fine, considering.” She squeaked.

  “Considering what?”

  “I’ve been very sick, Oliver, for the past few months.”

  “With what?” Oliver nearly screamed into the phone. The phone went silent again, and he immediately regretted his anger. He heard what sounded like a chair scraping in the background.

  “The doctors don’t know what it is. Stress, they say.” His mother returned to the phone, her voice sounding slightly stronger. “I have a live in nurse for now. She’s taking great care of me. I’ll be moving soon, up near you, Meadows Treatment Center in New Hampshire.”

  Oliver supposed the comment was intended to make him feel better, but it didn’t. “You didn’t call, because you were sick.” He said, feeling simultaneously childish for caring so much. “What are you stressed about?”

  His mother sighed for a long time. “I have been wrecked with guilt, I’m afraid.” She said in a voice that was barely audible. Oliver pressed closer to the receiver. “I not sure I should share this with you. I want you to do your best at school, and not worry.” It took Oliver all he could do from laughing out loud and he thought about telling her what was really going on. But before he could open his mouth again, strange shuffling noises came from the other end of the line.

  “Oliver. I think that’ll be all for now. Your mother needs to get her rest. You’ll have to continue your conversation on another day. Alright?” The nurse came on the phone. Oliver slammed the phone down. A piece of plastic from the bottom of the receiver broke off and fell to the floor. A boy on the outside of the phone booth banged on the glass and threw his hands up. Oliver shot him a murderous glance and stormed from the phone booth.

  He had only been in his room for about thirty minutes, seething from a stew of emotions that he had never felt in such intensity before Robert flew into the room as if he were propelled by the wind itself.

  “If you have anything, hide it.” The words had barely come out of Robert’s mouth before Matron Charlie walked in behind him. Behind her, two burly security guards wearing glasses walked in and surveyed the room.

  “I want every inch of this room turned over. I want to make sure that everything---everything---is accounted for.” Matron Charlie said.

  “What is going on?” Oliver snapped, still irritated from his phone call. Without answering, the two guards descended upon the room. One guard took the left side and immediately flipped Robert’s mattress over, while the second took the right and pulled open every one of Oliver’s drawers. Oliver cringed when he began thumbing through his underwear drawer.

  “What is going on?” Oliver asked again, through clenched teeth.

  Matron Charlie turned to him, as if she were suddenly hearing him for the first time. “Impromptu room checks.”

  “For what reason?” Oliver countered.

  “For safety.” Charlie said, simply. The security guard pulled everything out of Oliver’s drawers and scattered it on the floor. Five minutes later, every drawer was empty, every closet and bed bare. The contents of the entire room were piled on the floor in the center. Matron Charlie walked up to the pile, and then around it. Her hands were behind her back and then she tutted. “All clear. Curfew is now. Have a restful night, boys.” She said shortly before leaving.

  “What in the hell was that about?” Oliver looked from his ransacked bed, to the closet, and then to Robert. Robert shrugged and sat down on his bare mattress, looking particularly pitiful.

  "They’re doing it to everybody. Somebody drew a circle on Dean Tenbrook’s door.” He said.

  Oliver’ eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “On her door?”

  Robert nodded somberly.

  “What did she do, were you there?”

  “No, everybody was talking about it. I heard it maybe five minutes before I got to you. They’re doing freshman dorms first.” Robert said.

  “So that would mean senior dorms last.” Oliver said.

  “Owen’s room.” Robert added, voicing aloud the fear that both boys had suddenly realized. Robert and Oliver scrambled from their room and into the common room, only to find that a security guard was standing at the front door, and another standing at the door to the basement. At the same time, Matron Charlie marched back around the corner and skidded to a stop when she saw Oliver and Robert. “Back to your rooms, or else there will be punishment!” She screeched, and they raced back to their rooms.

  ~

  The next day at breakfast, Oliver looked around furtively before setting his tray down at the center table. Shortly thereafter, he was joined by his friends. Keeping his voice low, he leaned forward, and whispered: “Don’t look now, but she’s watching us.” Malachi turned around slowly, as if he were getting something out of his backpack and cast a quick glance at the balcony above. Sure enough, Dean Tenbrook stood there, arms folded.

  Robert joined the table, his skin looking even paler than usual. “Did she find it?” He whispered, urgently. Owen shook his head and patted his chest pocket slowly. Oliver leaned forward and squinted his eyes. He could just barely see the faint outline of a folded note in Owen’s breast pocket. A wave of relief rushed over him.

  “Did they search you too?” Owen asked.

  Robert nodded. “Completely destroyed---

  At that moment, a sudden high pitched sound rang through the dining hall, like that of a microphone being adjusted. Oliver looked up at Dean Tenbrook, who was still standing in the same spot.

  “Attention all students.” Boys at every table craned their necks every which way to see who or what was speaking.

  “As it is Thanksgiving Break, and classes are out, there will be a number of changes in policy that the administration will be instituting, effective immediately. Dorm checks will now be twice a day, once in the morning, and once in the evening. Students are to report for dorm checks on time, as they are mandatory. Secondly, fraternizing b
etween years will only be allowed in public spaces such as the dining hall, the library, when classes are in session, and at school sponsored events. No student may be present in a dorm that is not of his year. Thirdly, random searches will be instituted to encourage safety and rule following here at Delafontaine. Thank you.”

  The microphone screeched again before fading out. Oliver looked around the table at his friends, and he didn’t even have to ask what they were thinking.

  ~

  “I’ve never been in here before.” Oliver said, looking up at the circled atrium of the library.

  Malachi laughed. “Yeah, your history papers could have told me that.” They joined Owen, Gabriel, Alex, and Robert at a study table in the far corner of the room.

  “So, if no one else is going to say it, I will.” Alex started. “We’re screwed.”

  “No, we’re not.” Robert said softly, and then he jumped up. “No, we’re not!” He took off towards the stacks, and Oliver had no choice but to follow.

  Robert wandered through the stacks, looking at the spine of each book. “No, that’s not it!” Oliver looked back at a confused Owen who’d joined in following Robert. After losing sight of him for a few minutes, Oliver rounded another stack and found Robert staring open mouthed at a book on the shelf.

  “What is it?” He asked.

  Robert pointed at the spine of the book with his index finger.

  “When did Damien disappear?”

  Owen squinted. “2009. He was a year older than us.” Robert pointed again at the book, and then air circled the call number. Oliver peered at it and almost fell back in shock. It read “200.9 HeLP”. Robert withdrew the book from the shelf while the rest of the boys crowded around him, not certain whether or not their eyes were deceiving them.

  “How…?” Oliver started, but he couldn’t even finish the sentence as it seemed the words had vanished from his vocabulary. Robert shook his head and cracked open the book, while Owen stood on his tiptoes, peering over his shoulder. The book was well kept, leather bound, and over two thousand pages, it seemed. It was either brand new or very well preserved. The title page read “18th Century Gothic Architecture” and Robert squinted in confusion.

  “Keep going.” Owen urged. Robert continued flipping the pages, and soon enough he reached a hollowed out section of the book. Around page five hundred, a deep square had been cut from the remaining pages to create a small box. Within that lay a piece of paper that was folded, wrinkled and fraying. Robert lifted the paper and unfolded it.

  “What is it?” Malachi asked. Oliver peered closer, looking at the strange markings. He felt something nudging him at the edge of his consciousness and he stared blankly at the paper for several more seconds before bursting out. “It’s a map!” The heads of several students nearby swiveled in his direction and Owen glared at him.

  “Of World War II battles!” Oliver added, quickly, and Malachi rolled his eyes.

  They retreated to the far corner table, with Malachi standing as sentry at the nearest stack while the rest of the boys poured over Damien’s map in hushed whispers.

  “So, these are the trees.” Owen pointed to images that looked like stick figures with six pairs of arms. “And this is Delafontaine.” He pointed to a square box with windows at the top of the paper. “Damien wasn’t much of an artist.” Owen said apologetically.

  “Here, what’s this?” Oliver pointed to a small circle with what looked like three tally marks through it. The circle with tally marks was surrounded by the trees. One of the trees had an x across it.

  “And there’s town.” Robert pointed at a cluster of square boxes and scratched his head. “Whatever it is, it’s in the middle of the forest. Do you think it’s a sewage tunnel?”

  “It’s probably by the tree.” Owen said, excitedly. “I think I know where it is.” Oliver said, realizing the truth of his words as they fell out of his mouth.

  Robert exchanged places with Malachi and Oliver launched into his account of initiation night. When he had finished, Owen looked proud, and Malachi looked skeptical. Alex muttered something about needing another joint, and Gabriel sat with his fists balled up, sending looks of muted rage in Owen’s direction.

  “You guys held initiation in the forest for years, and you never found it? What makes you think Oliver did?” Malachi asked. Oliver cringed. As usual, Malachi made good points. But he knew what he’d seen, or felt actually.

  “I trust Oliver.” Gabriel said, looking pointedly at Owen.

  “Guys.” Robert interrupted with an urgent whisper. “Guards walking over now. Do something.” Without a second thought, as Oliver was sitting closest to the bookshelf, he grabbed a handful of books and dropped them on the table. Each boy grabbed one.

  “Alex. Your book is upside down.” Oliver hissed, and Alex turned it upright just as the guard turned the corner.

  The guard walked around the table slowly. Oliver’s heart fluttered and everything in him was focused on keeping his hand from trembling. He shifted his gaze sideways to Owen, who could not have been staring more intently at his book. Alex flipped a page, convincingly and picked up a pencil and nibbled on the eraser. Nice touch, Oliver thought. The guard rounded the table again, before setting off towards the main room. Oliver waited until he could no longer hear the guard’s footsteps before setting his book down, and the rest of the boys followed suit.

  “Did you pick these on purpose?” Alex asked.

  Oliver frowned. “No, why?”

  Alex looked sideways at Gabriel for a minute before chuckling. “Nothing. It just wasn’t the worst way to spend five minutes. That’s all.” He set down his book, The School of Venus, and smiled.

  “The escape.” Owen said, seriously. “How?”

  “I say we do two groups. Seniors first. Everybody else second.” Robert said, shrugging.

  “When?” The table fell silent. This was, of course, the only flaw in an otherwise brilliant plan. The actual execution. Oliver wanted to laugh, but a voice came crackling over the intercom. “Students. Mandatory room check will be in fifteen minutes. Students are expected to stay in their dormitories for the night following room check. Please be prepared for extensive room searches.”

  Malachi returned to the table. “Who’s keeping the map?” Oliver looked around the table at suddenly blank faces.

  “I’ll do it.” Gabriel said after some time.

  “What if they find it?” Robert looked worried. Gabriel folded up the map and waved his hand.

  “They won’t.” He slid it into his boxers and smiled.

  ~

  Oliver and Robert sat across from each other, awaiting room check.

  “What if they find it?” Robert asked, again.

  Oliver rolled his eyes to cover the fact that his heart was nearly leaping from his chest. “We’ll tell them it’s an art project.”

  “We don’t have art, here.” Robert pointed out. The room door swung open at that moment, and Matron Charlie entered with two guards.

  “I want full body pat downs.” She said, eyes gleaming. Fear seized Oliver like it never had before. The guards descended onto him and Robert.

  “Face me, and place your arms out parallel to the ground. Spread your legs.” The second guard repeated the same to Robert, and both boys stood with their arms and legs apart. Oliver’s guard bent down and placed his hand firmly on Oliver’s right boot and worked his way up his leg, patting hard and fast. The guard reached his rear and torso and patted his pants pockets with extra vigor before finishing at his shoulders. Shame welled up inside of Oliver, and he looked over to Robert, whose pale face was very, very pink.

  “I found something!” Robert’s guard said, triumphantly.

  “No!” Robert burst out and he swiped at something the security guard dangled from his hand.

  “What is it?” Matron Charlie looked as if she would start frothing at the mouth. “What is this?” Matron Charlie took the item from the guard and dangled it in front of Robert. He cast his ey
es towards the floor as if he were suddenly mute.

  “WHAT is this?” Matron Charlie stepped closer to him, until they were nearly touching noses. “What is this?”

  “It’s knitting. It’s knitting!” Robert wailed. Oliver blinked, at first not sure what he was looking at. From Matron Charlie’s hand hung a tiny black cloth square. In the center was a tiny, almost undetectable white dot.

  “Did you do this as a part of a class assignment?” Matron Charlie boomed.

  “I---maybe---I don’t know.” Robert looked like he was going to crack into a million little pieces. Tears welled up in his eyes.

  “What class is this for?” Matron Charlie pressed.

  “It’s not. It’s just a hobby!” Robert cried.

  Matron Charlie turned to Oliver, as if she were expecting him to say something. When he did not, she turned back to Robert. “Guards, please perform a strip search.” Robert’s facial expression morphed into one of pure terror.

  Matron Charlie crossed her arms and smiled, grimly. “Turn around and remove all of your clothing. Put your hands on the wall and bend over.” The guard barked, and Oliver did as he was told. He bent over, and through his legs he could see Robert, now enveloped in a full body tremble, doing the same. Oliver felt the guard circle his body before gruffly commenting

  “Put your clothes back on.” Oliver did so readily, and then stood with his hands behind his back before the guard. Oliver held his breath, waiting for the anticipated all clear, but it did not come.

  “Robert. Come with me.” Matron Charlie said, shortly, casting a single glance back at Oliver before sweeping from the room, Robert in tow. As soon as the door shut behind them, Oliver collapsed on the bed as if the only thing that had been supporting him was pure fear. He stared at Robert’s empty bed, and a new wave of uncertainty curled up inside of him, lapping at his conscious.

  He waited up for several hours for Robert to return, wiping sleep from his eyes and staring determinedly at his bad as if it could will him back. When his watch struck midnight, and Robert had yet to return, Oliver felt sleep approach him hard and fast. Soon enough, his nightmares took him.