The Annihilation of Foreverland (3 page)

“Where are we?”

“Let’s just say we’re plenty isolated.” Mr. Jones shuffled closer to the window. “Now, this isn’t all recess, just so you know. You see over there on the left is the library where you’ll be taking classes, but don’t get nervous. They’re not like high school. You don’t get grades, they’re just fun classes to keep your brain active and strong. And next to the library is the gym to keep your body active and strong.” Mr. Jones flexed his biceps and said with his best Russian accent, “Strong like bull!”

He lifted Danny’s arm, smacked his bicep like he was trying to wake it up.

“Listen, Danny Boy. We just want you of sound body and mind when you’re ready to graduate. Only the best, only the best, my boy.”

The cafeteria, Mr. Jones said, was on the west wing of the dormitory. As long as Danny was here, everything was free. Games, food, classes, all of it paid for. By who, he didn’t say. He might have some limitations on food because, Mr. Jones said with a chuckle, “I don’t want you getting fat on me.”

“They’re all boys,” Danny Boy said.

“Pardon me?”

Danny pointed at the field. “This is a boys’ camp, right?”

“Well, it’s easier that way, Danny Boy. Girls can be a distraction and we want all your attention on improving your body and mind. But just between you and me,” Mr. Jones winked and nudged him with an elbow, “you’ll have plenty of chances to meet girls when you’re ready. Nothing wrong with that, if you ask me. Nothing wrong, indeed. By the way, see those boys down there?”

He pointed at a group sitting at one of the many picnic tables.

“That’s your group. You ready to go meet some of your fellow campers?”

Danny didn’t know what to say. Didn’t seem like he had much of a choice. Mr. Jones walked a little easier to the door this time. He stood a little taller and started to open the door.

“What’s that building over there?”

Mr. Jones answered without looking. “We’ll talk about that later.”

It was past the far end of the field buried in the trees. Its dome-shaped roof was just above the forest canopy. Sunlight reflected off the circular skylights.

“Come along, Danny Boy. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Danny followed him, reluctantly. He was thirteen years old. When an adult says there’s nothing to worry about, there’s usually plenty.

Everyone stared.

Mr. Jones walked damn near zero miles an hour. Danny kept his eyes straight ahead. They cut across the grass. Everyone seemed pretty tan, but the sun bit into Danny’s fair skin. They were aimed at the group at a picnic table near the sun dial. Four of them were playing cards. The fifth was watching. When they got close, the game stopped and they watched the painfully slow approach of Mr. Jones and his sidekick.

“Well, lookie there,” one of them mumbled. “We got ourselves a new poke.”

Mr. Jones leaned one hand on the table.

“Boys.” He took a long breath. “This is your new camper. I’d like you to meet Danny Boy.”

“Hey,
Danny Boy,
” one of them said.

Most gave a head nod. Danny sort of smiled, waiting for Mr. Jones to either leave or die.

“This is your group, or camp,” Mr. Jones finally said. “You’ll be going through your work with them for the next couple months, so you’ll get to know them pretty well.”

“We love pokes,” someone said.

“Now be nice, boys. You remember what it was like when you first got here, extend some courtesy to this young man. I don’t want to hear about any funny business. You remember that, now. I’ve got my eye on you. Anything happens to my Danny Boy I’ll come down here and tan your hides, you understand?”

My Danny Boy?

The card dealer with a shag of black hair waggled his bushy eyebrows and those around the table smirked.

“I’m not kidding, boys. You try me and see how fast I can reach into my pocket.”

Danny wondered what was in the pocket. A notepad or a laser beam?

A golf cart silently pulled up while Mr. Jones eyeballed each of them. The driver was older than Mr. Jones. His gray hair looked wet and parted on the right. The white line of his scalp showed through the part as straight as a razor. He set the brake and made an attempt to get out but his belly was rubbing against the steering wheel. He got it on the second try.

“Mr. Miller,” Mr. Jones said.

Mr. Miller acknowledged Mr. Jones with a nod but ignored the rest of them. He walked to the other side of the table to speak with a gangly kid with an Adam’s apple the size of a walnut. His cheeks were pasty and he stared vacantly at the table while Mr. Miller spoke quietly into his ear, occasionally nodding. The walnut bobbed up and down. Mr. Miller patted him on the back and waddled back to the cart without making eye contact with anyone, again.

“Remember, I’m watching, boys.” Mr. Jones pointed two fingers at his eyes, then at the rest of them. Danny needed him to leave for a whole lot of reasons. If the rest of the Investors were as decrepit as Mr. Jones, they would be as much help as a box of kittens.

And when he thought it couldn’t get any worse.

Mr. Jones waved him over to the cart. He stopped a couple steps away. Mr. Jones pulled him closer and put his hand – soft with lotion – on Danny’s cheek, lovingly. “You call if you need me. All right, my boy?”

He did not.

Do.

That.

Danny jumped back and shook like a wet dog. Mr. Jones looked a little hurt, but then nodded like maybe he realized and understood that you just don’t do that TO A THIRTEEN YEAR OLD BOY!

Unless you wanted him to die of embarrassment, of shame and humiliation.

The entire world would have to be on fire before he called Mr. Jones for help.

The card game was more important than Danny. That was a good thing.

He walked away to get some space. If he was going to hang out with them, he needed to make a new first impression. He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned his back, looked around the Yard. There were maybe a couple dozen boys out there, but they were a mix of race and nationality. He heard someone speaking French. Regardless, they were all boys. Every last one of them.

But you’ll get your chance
.

There was only one loner. He had his shirt over his shoulder. His long hair was dark. He walked slowly, one foot in front of the other, like he was just soaking in the sun with nowhere to go. Even from where Danny was standing – about fifty feet away – he bet he could count the kid’s ribs.

“Hey, I’m Zin.” A kid about Danny’s height stepped next to him. He was plump, brown skinned with a shaved head and a mean looking zit in the middle of his forehead. “You’re Danny Boy, huh right.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Danny peeled off the nametag.

“Ain’t much of a welcome wagon, but that’s the way it goes around here. You’ll figure it out soon enough.”

“How soon is that?”

“It’ll feel like home in a day. Two, tops.”

Danny had transferred to a new school when he was ten (or was it five?). His dad was a teacher (or was he an engineer?) and got transferred to the mountains (or was it the beach?). Danny got in a fight the first day (or did he run away?). The biggest of the bunch got up right in the middle of class and slapped him while the teacher had her back turned. They duked it out after school.

(Or was it lunch?)

“How long you been here?” Danny asked.

“Long enough. I can tell you one thing, I didn’t get a welcome half as warm as you got. As soon as the Investors left they threw me in a trash can.”

Yep, there it is.
This was prison because he was standing in the Yard and there were no girls, just boys. No need for barbed wire when you were surrounde
d by “sharks and ship eating co
ral and the like”.

He remembered a time he got in trouble, something about a computer. Danny knew that if he was right – that this really was some sort of prison enclosed by water – then there had to be rape. He’d watched enough
Locked Up
episodes to know the weak got it good and these guys were going to bust into his room for a little midnight snack and who was going to stop them? Mr. Jones and his team of geriatric superheroes?

“Listen, it’s a little intimidating the first day,” Zin said, picking up on Danny’s expression or the pale color of his cheeks, “but you get used to it in no time. And these guys aren’t going to do anything to you, so don’t worry. We all look out for each other.”

“How’d you end up here?”

“Same way as everyone else.” He shrugged. “Woke up with my Investor staring at me and couldn’t remember a damn thing. I take that back, I remembered too many things and nothing made sense. You?”

Danny wanted to just forget about the dream and the weird feeling in his head and Mr. Jones touching his cheek.

“That’s what I thought. Listen, don’t sweat it.” Zin lightly punched his shoulder. “This place has its ups and downs, but it ain’t so bad… look, that’s the library over there… and the game room is behind the gym…”

Another orientation, but this one felt better coming from Zin without the creepy grin Mr. Jones was wearing when he did it. The buildings were all dome-shaped besides the horseshoe-shaped dormitory. Zin pointed everything out and then named everyone in their camp.

“And if you want to know what time it is, there you go.” He pointed at the sun dial. “It’s never wrong.”

“What’s that?” Danny pointed at the round building across the Yard, the same one he’d seen from his room.

“That’s the Haystack. You’ll find out about that in a few weeks when we start a new round. I don’t want to spoil the surprise.”

“That much fun?”

Zin thought about it. “Yes and no.”

“He looks like he had a blast.” Danny nodded to Mr. Miller’s kid, still staring. Saliva glistened on his lip.

The kid with a mop of black hair dealing the cards had been listening. “Yeah, old Parker here is about to get smoked, ya’ll.” He smacked zombie-Parker on the back and rattled his head. Parker didn’t seem to notice so much. Or care.

“Sid means that Parker’s about to graduate,” Zin said. “We all graduate at some point.”

“From what?”

“From the island. You’re here because you got problems, Danny Boy. You’ll learn that problems start with your mind, that we assign concepts and requirements to life that create friction and chaos. If we want to heal, we start with the mind. Or at least, that’s what the Investors tell us. Who the hell knows.”

Zin’s smile was infectious.

“You believe that?” Danny asked.

“Sure, why not? Don’t you see, Danny Boy, the universe is perfectly imperfect.” Zin wiggled his hands in mysterious-fashion. “There are no problems, you just think there are. And you believe what you think, and that’s why you’re here. We’re going to fix you.”

Zin jabbed at Danny’s forehead.

“And once you’re fixed, you get smoked. And once you’re smoke, you’re out of here.”

Zin pointed at the cylindrical building rising up from behind the dorms. Bands of glass windows alternated with bands of metal. Five floors. One of those glass floors was where Danny woke up and walked down the hall. The top floor was black glass. At the very top was a long chimney.

“That’s right,” Zin added. “Once you go to the Chimney, you leave the island. It’s graduation time, kind of like how they pick a new pope, when someone graduates the Chimney puffs and then it’s sayonara, baby.”

“Where do we go?”

“Home, I guess. Where else?”

The thought of going home wasn’t as comforting as it should’ve been, mainly because Danny couldn’t quite remember it.

“Come on.” Sid slung his arm around Parker’s shoulders. “Let’s have some fun before they smoke you, pal. What’d you say, huh? Old times?”

Parker was glassy-eyed.

“That’s the spirit. Let’s go, ya’ll.” They chucked the cards on the table and left the mess behind. “Zinski, bring the new poke. We’ll need him to take Parker’s spot on the team so let’s get him to the game room. We got a match in an hour.”

Zin pulled Danny along. Sid walked with his arm around Parker. It didn’t look like he was going to make it unless someone kept him propped up. A cold feeling crept into Danny’s stomach. He had a feeling what happened to him.

“What’s a poke?”

“That means you’re a rookie, a virgin that just got popped.” Zin pointed at the round band-aid on Danny’s head. “You got poked, Danny Boy.”

Danny touched the bandage. He felt a little guilty after Mr. Jones told him not to, then he noticed the zit on Zin’s forehead. When he first saw it, it looked like a deep blackhead. It was a little red and puffy around the edges, like maybe he was squeezing it.
Is that a hole?

A cold feeling trickled into his legs.

Danny noticed the loner kid with the shirt over his shoulder. He was hardly a kid, looked like he was nineteen or twenty. Easily the oldest one around. An old man (there seemed to be an endless supply of them) limped toward him. There were a few words exchanged.