Midnight for Charlie Bone

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Midnight for Charlie Bone Page 10

by Jenny Nimmo


  The boy was older than Charlie, maybe twelve or thirteen. He had round startled eyes and his yellow hair stood up stiffly as though an electric current had passed through it. Charlie frowned, hoping the boy would look away but he didn't. In fact Charlie's fierce expression only seemed to intrigue him. In the end it was Charlie who had to look away Instead of starting his homework, his gaze slid up to the wall behind the yellow-haired boy And there he was, the Red King. He stared out from a gold-framed painting, which must have been very old. The paint had cracked and faded so badly that the features on the long, dark face were blurred and misty except for the eyes - black and magnetic. The cloak he wore was a rich, velvety red and the slim crown on his dark hair had a mysterious golden sparkle.

  "Charlie Bone!"Manfred's voice made Charlie start. "Why aren't you working?"

  "I was looking at the Red King," said Charlie, avoiding Manfred's gaze.

  "It is the Red King, isn't it?"

  "Of course! Get back to work!"

  Manfred kept his eyes on Charlie, until Charlie opened his English book. For the next two hours no one spoke. There were sighs and grunts, coughs and sneezes, all around Charlie, but no words. In a dark corner a clock ticked and chimed every quarter hour. Pages turned, pens squeaked, and Charlie was in danger of falling asleep.

  At last the clock chimed eight o'clock and Manfred stood up. "You may go!" he said, and he walked out of the room with Asa loping behind him. Charlie gathered his books together and went over to Billy Raven. "Who's the boy with the yellow hair?" he whispered.

  The boy in question had just left the room with his green cape flying around him, as though caught by a mysterious breeze.

  "Oh, that's Tancred," said Billy. “He can be a bit stormy Come on, I'll show you the way to the dormitories."

  Their journey took them up so many staircases and along so many passages, Charlie began to wonder if he'd ever find his own way back for breakfast. At last they arrived in a bleak, low-beamed room with bare floors and a single, dim light.

  There were six beds, placed uncomfortably close to one another, on both sides of the long room. The beds were narrow and covered with woolen blankets. There was a chair at the end of each one and a small cabinet against the wall between them. Charlie was relieved to see Fidelio sitting on a bed at the end of the room.

  "Over here, Charlie!" Fidelio sang out. "You're next to me." He pointed to a bed.

  Charlie went over and dumped his bag on a chair.

  "Capes on the hooks beside us, the rest of your stuff in the drawers." Fidelio lowered his voice. "And look who's on your other side. You'll be able to get a look at his cape."

  Charlie saw Gabriel Silk pushing clothes into a bedside cabinet. He didn't remove the cape, however, even when he went into the bathroom.

  "Very suspicious," said Fidelio. "Have you got a flashlight?" Charlie hadn't been thinking about flashlights when he packed his bag.

  “A flashlight is an essential item," Fidelio told him. “You can read after lights out and find your way around. It's so dark in here at night, you can't see a thing." He took a slim blue flashlight from a drawer and handed it to Charlie. "You'll need that to see the cape," he said. "Put it under your pillow"

  Charlie was the last boy to get ready for bed. It took him some time to unpack his bag and find everything he needed for the night. He was embarrassed about the bears on his pajamas, but when he saw that somebody had squirrels on theirs, bears didn't seem so bad. He had just hopped into bed when a hand came in the door and switched off the light. "Silence!" said a harsh female voice. The hand retreated, the door closed, and the dormitory was plunged into darkness.

  There was something familiar about the voice, but Charlie couldn't quite place it.

  "Who was that?" he whispered to Fidelio.

  "Matron," said Fidelio, "the nearest thing a woman can get to a dragon." There was a great deal of snuffling and rustling as the boys tried to get comfortable in their hard, narrow beds. Charlie waited until the noises had died down. In the bed beside him, Gabriel Silk was breathing deeply He seemed to be asleep.

  Charlie took out the flashlight and swung his feet to the floor. Making sure the flashlight was trained on the wall, he switched it on. The blue cape was right in front of him. He lifted it down from Gabriel's hook and saw the initials sewn inside the collar.

  "It's mine," Charlie whispered.

  Fidelio was sitting up in bed. "Take it," he said softly. “Quickly." Charlie took Gabriel's tattered cape and replaced it with his own. He was about to hang the old cape on Gabriel's hook when there was a howl of panic.

  "No!" cried Gabriel, leaping up and tearing at the cape. "You can't do this. Please! Please take it!" He flung the cape with the slashed corner on Charlie's bed.

  Charlie laid the flashlight on his pillow where it cast a soft glow around his bed. "That one is yours," said Charlie. "I don't want it."

  "You don't understand. I can't wear it, I can't. It's full of... of horror. Its fear drags me down." Gabriel sank onto his bed and covered his face with his hands.

  "What are you talking about, Gabriel Silk?" Fidelio asked in a harsh whisper. "Why should Charlie give you his cape?"

  "Because I can't wear that one." Gabriel nodded at the older cape.

  "Something dreadful happened to the person who wore it before me. I can feel it, you see. It's like wearing a nightmare."

  Charlie began to understand. "Is that your endowment, Gabriel?You can feel things that have happened?"

  Gabriel nodded. "I get it from the things people have worn. It's horrible. If my clothes aren't brand-new I get all these feelings that don't belong to me.

  Other people's worries. Sometimes I get happiness, but even that's no good because it's not true happiness and it doesn't last. At the beginning of the semester I had a brand-new cape, but my gerbils attacked it and Mom had to get me another one."

  Charlie couldn't help being curious. "How many gerbils do you have?" he asked.

  "Fifty-three," said Gabriel miserably. “They ate almost all of it. We haven't got much money so Mom asked the academy if they could give me a secondhand cape. They gave me that one."

  By now the whole dormitory was wide awake. One of the boys at the end of the row said, "I bet it belonged to that girl who was lost in the ruin. She must have been pretty terrified."

  "I think we should be quiet or Matron will come in and we'll all get detention," said another voice.

  Charlie didn't know what to do. How could he make Gabriel wear someone else's nightmare?

  "I'll do anything for you, anything," Gabriel whispered. "But please don't make me wear that cape."

  Charlie took down his new cape and handed it to Gabriel.

  "Thanks! Thanks, Charlie!" Gabriel hugged it gratefully.

  "There is something you can do for me," Charlie said softly He opened one of his drawers and took out the tie his mother had given him. "Can you tell me anything about the person who wore this?" He passed the tie to Gabriel.

  Gabriel didn't ask any questions. He wound the tie around his neck and closed his eyes. He ran his fingers down the length of the blue silk and touched the small gold "Y" at the end of the tie. A shadow crossed his long face. "It's very strange," he murmured. "Whoever wore this tie was happy once, but now he's lost." He took the tie from his neck and ran it through his fingers. "I've never felt anything like this before. It's as if the person doesn't know who he is." He passed the tie back to Charlie. At least his father had been happy once. Charlie assumed that "lost" meant dead. He put the tie in his drawer. He hadn't learned very much.

  He was about to turn off the flashlight when a small figure appeared at the foot of Gabriel's bed; his white hair was a pale blur in the darkness.

  "Can you tell me about this person?" Billy whispered. He put a long blue scarf on Gabriel's blanket.

  Gabriel sighed but he didn't object. He draped the scarf around his neck and once more closed his eyes. "Well, this person was always in a hurry,” he said. "
Here, there, everywhere. He just couldn't stop," he paused, "and now, I'm afraid, he's dead." He took off the scarf.

  "Nothing else?" Billy Raven begged. "Didn't he say anything?"

  "I'm sorry it doesn't work like that," Gabriel said regretfully. “I don't hear voices. And when people die the messages get much weaker."

  "I see. Thank you." Billy's sad voice echoed in the darkness as he tiptoed away.

  Charlie turned off the flashlight, leaned over, and tucked it under Fidelio's pillow. Fidelio had fallen asleep. His quiet breathing made Charlie yawn and then, suddenly he was wide awake. Something Gabriel had said didn't make sense.

  "Gabriel," he whispered. "My father wore that tie. He died when I was two. Why did you say he was lost?"

  "Because he is," said Gabriel's sleepy voice.

  "Do you mean dead?"

  "No, I mean lost. Definitely not dead."

  Charlie stared into the darkness. He listened to the soft breathing that filled the unseen spaces all around him, knowing that he would be lying there, listening, for hours to come. "Not dead?" he whispered. "Gabriel, are you sure?"

  "Quite sure," Gabriel murmured with a yawn. "Good night, Charlie!"

  CHAPTER 10

  SKELETONS IN THE CLOSET

  Charlie woke up with a dry throat and sore eyes. He had only slept for an hour. He resigned himself to wearing Gabriel's tattered cloak. After all, it wasn't going to give him nightmares.

  Gabriel and Fidelio waited while Charlie tried to untangle his hedge of hair, but after five minutes they all agreed that Charlie's combing wasn't having much effect.

  "If we don't go soon, you'll only get the burned pieces of bacon," Fidelio warned.

  Charlie was starving. He threw down his comb and hurried down to breakfast with the others. He was | glad of their company for he'd never have found his way down to the bottom floor without them. Gabriel was so happy wearing Charlie's cloak, he looked like a different person. In fact, he was all smiles. He even walked faster, now that he had cast off those horrible, frightening feelings.

  Breakfast was oatmeal, burned bacon, and a mug of tea.

  "Do we get this every day?" Charlie asked, trying to swallow a lump of oatmeal.

  "Every day,” said Fidelio.

  Charlie tried not to think about Maisie's big breakfasts. His second day at the academy was not as bad as his first. With Fidelio's help and sometimes Gabriel's, Charlie managed to find all his classes. On the third day he even found his way to the garden by himself. Friday arrived. The day Charlie had been dreading. When classes were over he sat on his bed and watched Fidelio pack.

  "What happens in here," Charlie asked, "when everyone else has gone home?"

  "You're pretty much left to yourself," said Fidelio. "There's nothing to worry about. Manfred will be about, of course, but you won't be alone. Olivia's got detention too, remember, and Billy Raven never goes home, because he hasn't got one. I'll go and see Benjamin and collect the case you want me to hide and at, let's see, half past eleven on Saturday I'll come and wave to you. I'll give you the thumbs up if we've managed to move the case."

  Charlie was tempted to tell Fidelio about the baby but now wasn't the time. "How will I see you?" he asked glumly.

  "Go to the music tower. Olivia will show you. I'll wave at the window facing the street on the second floor, and then you'll only have four hours to go before you're out."

  Charlie sighed.

  "Cheer up!" Fidelio patted Charlie's shoulder and picked up his bag. Charlie followed his friend downstairs and watched him swing his bag toward the tall oak doors. They were open now, and children rushed through them, eager for a weekend of freedom.

  Fidelio turned and gave a quick wave. He was almost the last to leave. Charlie had a desperate urge to rush through the doors before they closed. He took a few paces forward, glanced quickly around him, and increased his pace.

  "Give up, Bone!"

  Charlie whirled around. Manfred Bloor was standing in a shadowy recess halfway down the hall.

  "Did you think no one was watching you, eh?"

  "I didn't think anything," Charlie said.

  "Take your homework to the King's room and stay there until you hear the dinner bell." As Manfred spoke, the two massive doors closed and his voice echoed across the empty hall.

  "OK," Charlie muttered.

  "Say ‘Yes, Manfred,’ none of this 'OK' stuff."

  "Yes, Manfred."

  Charlie found Olivia and Billy chatting in the library.

  "We don't have to be silent when Manfred's not here," Billy said happily Charlie wondered how Billy survived, imprisoned in Bloor's week after week, all alone in the dark dormitory when everyone else had gone home.

  "Do you ever get out of here?" he asked Billy.

  “I’ve got an aunt who lives by the sea, so I go there for the holidays,” said Billy, “and I’m not lonely because there are . . .” he hesitated and said, almost under his breath, “there are always the animals."

  “What animals?” asked Olivia. “I don’t see any animals.”

  "Cook has a dog," said Billy. “It's very old, but it's friendly and there are - mice - and things."

  "You can hardly talk to a mouse," said Charlie. Billy was silent. He looked down at his book and began to read. The round lenses in his reading glasses made his eyes look like two huge red lamps. All at once he muttered, “Actually I can."

  "Can what?" asked Olivia.

  Billy cleared his throat. "Talk to mice."

  "Really?" Olivia closed her book. "That's fantastic. Is it your thing? You know, your endowment."

  Billy nodded.

  "Does that mean you can understand them as well?" asked Charlie. Slowly and solemnly Billy nodded again.

  Charlie gave a low whistle. Benjamin had often said he wished he knew what Runner Bean was saying. "Could you come and talk to my friend's dog?" he asked Billy.

  Billy didn't reply He stared at Charlie with a bewildered expression.

  "Perhaps that would be frivolous," said Charlie. "Sorry I shouldn't have asked."

  "Please don't tell anyone. I can't talk to everybody's pet. Animals have so many languages. It's very tiring listening to them." Charlie and Olivia swore not to tell a soul. They returned to their books, but after a while Charlie became aware that Billy was neither working nor reading, he was just gazing into space.

  "Can I tell you something?" Billy asked.

  Olivia and Charlie both said, "Yes."

  "It happened a week ago. I was on my way to the garden after tea. Manfred had been talking to someone. I don't know who it was, but I heard a girl crying in the prefects' room."

  "Not me," said Olivia.

  "Not you," Billy agreed. "But like I said, it was a girl, and she was crying, so I knew someone was in bad trouble. I suppose I'd slowed down a bit to listen, because Manfred suddenly stormed out and knocked me over. He told me I was blind and stupid and other horrible things, and that I was to go into the garden at once."

  "So did you?" Olivia asked eagerly.

  "My leg hurt," said Billy. “So I was a bit slow I was limping down a passage when I heard the cats. There were three of them. “Let us in,” they said. “Quickly Billy Come to the door in the tower.'"

  "Which tower?" asked Charlie. "There are two."

  "I guessed it would be the music tower. The other one hasn't got a door. I was afraid Manfred would see me but I couldn't ignore those cat voices. I limped and ran until I got to the tower. I crossed the empty room at the bottom and when I got to the door, I just unbolted it and let them in."

  Charlie knew what Billy was going to say next, but he didn't interrupt.

  "They were mighty strange cats." Billy's large ruby-colored eyes grew even wider. "They were like flames, red and orange and yellow They thanked me, very politely and then they told me the Red King had sent them."

  "But he's been dead for hundreds of years," said Olivia.

  "I asked the cats about that, but they just gave me a funn
y look and said, ‘Of course,’ and then they ran toward the stairs. Just before they vanished, the red one said, ‘Leave the door, Billy!’ so I did. I went into the garden as quickly as I could, but I'd only been there a few minutes when the fire bell rang. Manfred's room was on fire, and Manfred was in it."

  "So it was the cats," breathed Charlie.

  "They must have knocked a candle over," said Olivia. "Manfred's always got candles in his room. You can see them flickering from outside."

  "Did they find out who let the cats in?" asked Charlie.

  "They thought it was Mr. Pilgrim," said Billy, “because he's always in the music tower."

  "So he got blamed!" said Olivia.

  "Teachers don't get blamed," muttered Billy. “Do they?" Before anyone could answer him, a voice outside the door said, "Silence in the King's room."

  Olivia made a rude face at the door and Charlie tried not to laugh. Billy gave an anxious frown and went back to his homework. When the dinner bell rang, at last, Charlie's stomach was rumbling. He always seemed to be hungry these days.

  They made their way to the dining hall, but just before they went in, Olivia warned Charlie that they would be sitting at a table with Manfred. Charlie's heart sank. He'd been looking forward to dinner, but how could he enjoy it when he was trying to avoid Manfred's stare all the time?

  "Has he ever - hypnotized you?" Charlie asked Olivia.

  "Not yet. I'm not worth bothering with. I mean, I'm not endowed so I'm not a threat. I'm just a nuisance."

  "He can't hypnotize me," Billy told them solemnly.

  "It's my eyes. He can't get past them." He smiled with satisfaction. The dining hall was vast and echoey and their footsteps rang out in the eerie silence as they made their way past empty benches to a table where Manfred sat, staring into a candle. Two places had been laid on his right side, one on his left. Charlie made sure he sat on the right, farthest away from Manfred.

  Some of the teachers had gone home but Dr. Bloor was there, and so was Dr. Saltweather. Mr. Pilgrim sat slightly apart from the others; a small frown crossed his face when the children came closer, and yet he hardly seemed to see them.

 

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