Witherwood Reform School (16 page)

BOOK: Witherwood Reform School
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“I see you've met some of my friends,” Donald said, motioning to the animals on the walls.

“You shoot your friends?” Sam asked with concern.

“Shoot 'em and eat 'em,” Donald answered in a friendly tone. “Hunting is a big part of my life.”

“I just think—” Sam started to protest, but Ralph stopped him by holding his right palm up.

“What Sam is trying to say is thanks for taking the time to talk to me.”

“My pleasure,” Donald said, unfazed by Sam's protest. “I must say, you look a lot different than when I last saw you. For one thing, you're dressed.”

Ralph's face reddened. “About that, I was hoping you might know more as to why I was out there.”

“I wish I did, but I'm sorry to say there's not much more I can tell you. I told the doctors everything. I was out checking on the herd in the far part of my property, there by the interstate. I had just gotten out of my truck and was walking over to the new fences when you came up. You kinda spooked me 'cause you weren't wearing much, and your body was covered with dust so you sort of blended into the dirt. In fact, you might think I'm crazy, but for a split second when I first saw you, I thought you were a ghost.”

“Probably the ghost of one of these animals you shot,” Sam said.

“Who are you?” Donald asked Sam nicely.

“I'm his taxi driver,” Sam answered. “And I'm not too crazy about hunters.”

“Well, Sam,” Donald said kindly, “I figure there're a number of critters that would love to come back and haunt me. But it wasn't one of them. It was him.” Donald pointed at Ralph and smiled.

“What happened then?” Ralph asked.

“Like I told the doc, you were babbling and sort of tearing at your skin as if you were hot. It was a terribly warm day, and you drank about a gallon of water. I asked you your name, and all you said was
Martha
.”

“Martha?” Ralph asked, surprised. “Nobody told me that.”

“Well, whether someone told you or not, it's true,” Donald said. “You said
Martha
and then just went on babbling. I asked you if you'd like a ride into town, and you climbed in my car without saying another word. I drove you straight to the hospital, dropped you off, and then had a meal in the hospital's cafeteria. I wouldn't recommend the meat loaf.”

“Thanks,” Ralph said. “So did I say anything as you were driving?”

“Not really,” Donald replied. “You kept turning on the radio because you thought it was the heater. And you rolled your window down once.”

Ralph was silent in thought.

“I wish I could tell you more,” Donald said sympathetically. “I truly do, but that's all that happened.”

“Can you think of any reason I'd be out there?”

“Not really,” Donald answered, stroking his beard with his hand. “It's pretty desolate. I wondered if you might be some sort of nature freak wanting to be one with the world.”

“I don't think that's it.”

“No, I don't think so either,” Donald agreed. “But there's nothing out there aside from empty land and a hundred head of cattle.”

“Nothing else?” Ralph said.

“Well, there's the river near the old highway and the abandoned rest stop, but nobody travels down that road any longer. The only thing that way is Witherwood.” Donald shivered.

“Who's Witherwood?” Sam questioned.

“Not a who, but a what,” Donald said uneasily. “It's some sort of school on top of the mesa. It's been there forever. I grew up with my parents telling me ghost stories about it. It scared the muck out of me then and still gives me the chills. It's not a good place.”

“Witherwood,” Ralph said slowly. “Maybe I wandered off from there.”

“Does it ring a bell?” Sam asked.

“No,” Ralph replied. “So how do we get there?”

“You go back to the interstate and head south,” Donald explained. “Get off at the ranch road exit, stay to the left, and travel down the old highway. Eventually there will be a road on your right. I can't remember the name of it, but it's the only road. If you pass the abandoned rest stop, you've gone too far. Take that road up to the school. It's a steep drive to the top of the mesa, but eventually you'll reach Witherwood. It's not a place you want to visit at night.”

“It can't be that bad,” Ralph said.

“It is or it isn't,” Donald replied. “I've heard people say it's a place of great scientific learning, and it's only for the most gifted kids, but there are also some nuts who think it's haunted.”

“Really?” Ralph asked. “And you believe that?”

“Whether I do or don't, I'd still stay away from that road at night.”

“So we'll come back in the morning,” Sam said. “I'm not driving around here at night, especially when there are people who might shoot me.”

“I can't afford to pay you to drive me back tomorrow,” Ralph said anxiously. “Maybe we should just go tonight.”

“I've got news for you—you can't afford to even pay me for all of today,” Sam replied. “But that's okay, I wanna see what happens. Of course I prefer to see what happens in the daytime.”

“I'll tell you boys what,” Donald said, standing up. “I know it's late, but I haven't eaten. So if you wanna join me, I'll have my staff cook us some steaks and you can sleep in one of our guest rooms.”

“Really?” Ralph asked, surprised by Donald's generosity.

“I won't take no for an answer.”

“What do you say, Sam?” Ralph asked.

“I've got nothing to drive home to,” Sam replied. “But are the guest rooms filled with more of these animals? Because I'm not sure I could sleep.”

“You're one heck of a taxi driver,” Donald said, laughing.

“Ain't that the truth,” Sam agreed.

Donald laughed, then picked up a bell sitting on a table and rang it.

 

CHAPTER 19

W
INDOW
OF
O
PPORTUNITY

We all have things to do. Most of us need to take out the trash, or empty the dishwasher, or brush our teeth. Some of us need to get to work; a few of us probably have homework; and there are some out there who simply need to get a move on, whatever that means. Our lives are filled with tasks and projects. Today might be the day you need to fix that gate. Or maybe there's a puzzle that has been put away and needs to be pieced together. Now might be a good time to get that puzzle out, put it together, and discover that the finished picture is actually a map that will lead you to great riches—riches so extraordinary that from this point on, you can lie in a hammock and do nothing for the rest of your days.

S
ee? We all have things to do.

Well, Tobias had been doing something. He had gotten to the library, gotten away from Orrin, and found a secret space behind the walls. The space was thin and dark, but Tobias could stand and walk. He held his hand out in front and shuffled his feet forward to feel for anything that might stop or harm him. The passageway seemed to go only in one direction. After a bend, it ran for a long distance and then bent again. Tobias tried to remember each shuffle and step so he could record it. Just past the second bend, it came to a stop. He pushed a latch and was surprised to step out through one of the tall storage lockers near the corner of Weary Hall. Tobias had hoped the passage might lead him outside, but it seemed to just be a connection between an old locker and an unused library.

He closed the locker, noted its number, and made it back to his room without incident. It was past ten, and he was wrestling with himself over going to sleep or trying to make an escape now. Sleep sounded wonderful, but freedom sounded better. He probably would have gone with sleeping if it had not been for what he had overheard Orrin say: “Tomorrow we will begin this semester's extractions.”

Tobias didn't know what Orrin meant, but he had no desire to be extracted.

Inside his room he quickly took out his papers and added the details of the library and hidden passage to his map. He scribbled the word
Gothiks.
Something about the way Orrin had said it made it feel important. After returning the paper to its spot under the floorboard, he walked over to Charlotte. She was in a dead sleep, making him feel almost bad about what he was about to do—almost.

The time had come to inflict a little pain and see if he could get his sister's mind back.

Kneeling next to her bed, he reached out and put one hand on her right shoulder and his other hand over her mouth. Tobias took a deep breath and began to shake her.

Charlotte's brown eyes flashed open, and she tried to scream.

“Quiet,” Tobias whispered. “You need to be quiet.”

“Mffrllllfruup,” she said from beneath his hand.

“If I take it off, you have to be quiet,” Tobias insisted.

Charlotte nodded, and Tobias removed his hand.

“I was sleeping!”

“I know,” Tobias replied. “That's why I woke you. You have to get up—we're leaving.”

Charlotte tried to close her eyes, but Tobias wouldn't stand for it.

“Listen to me. Do you want to just keep doing this forever? Reciting things for hours, doing dishes, and sleeping—that's not a life.”

“It's fine, and I like the sleeping part,” Charlotte insisted.

“This isn't sleeping,” Tobias argued. “We don't even have pillows. You're just so exhausted you don't care.”

“Okay,” Charlotte slurred.

“I didn't want to do this, but it worked for me.”

“You don't want to do—”

Tobias grabbed a tiny bit of the back of Charlotte's upper arm and pinched, while twisting it as hard as he possibly could. It was a move Charlotte herself used to use on him whenever they fought. Now he was doing it in hopes of shocking her back into reality. He tried to remember all the times his sister had been mean to him in hopes of making himself feel better about hurting her.

He put his other hand over Charlotte's mouth as she screamed. She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the cot. When her feet hit the floor, Tobias lifted his right leg and slammed his foot down as hard as he could on her toes. He placed both his hands over her mouth as she drew in breath to scream even louder.

“Shhhh,” Tobias begged. “You have to keep quiet.”

Charlotte sobbed and bit at Tobias's hands, but he kept them in place and smothered her screams. It took a minute or two, but she finally began to calm down.

“I'm sorry,” Tobias whispered, listening for anyone who might have heard the muffled commotion. “I had no choice.”

After a few minutes, Charlotte was still. Tobias asked her once more if she would keep quiet, and she nodded. He slowly removed his hands. She shook her head as if she'd just been swimming and needed to shake the water out of her ears.

“Why'd you do that?” Charlotte whimpered, rubbing her arm.

“Sorry,” Tobias replied. “I really am, but I need you to think straight.”

“I was thinking straight,” she protested, still shaking her head. “Who do you think tried to talk you out of that dumb idea?”

“What dumb idea?” Tobias asked.

“To go up to the second floor and…” Charlotte stopped and looked around, confused. “Wait a second, what day is it?”

Tobias smiled—his pinching and slamming seemed to have worked.

“I'm not sure. I think it's Friday. They don't have clocks or calendars around here, but I've been making marks under the cot.”

Charlotte continued to rub the back of her arm. She reached out and pinched Tobias. “I should smash your toes.”

“I'm so glad that worked,” he said happily. “So do you remember now?”

“Sort of. We were in the gardens,” Charlotte said softly. “And they stopped us, right?”

Tobias nodded.

“We jumped out a window,” she said as memories cleared in her mind. “And you stole some pliers.”

“And pens,” Tobias added. “Then they made us talk to Marvin Withers, and he gummed up our brains.”

“In a square room,” she said almost reverently.

Tobias nodded.

“I think I was mad at you,” Charlotte said. “Really mad.”

“You forgave me,” Tobias lied.

“I don't remember that part. But I do remember the gardens and Lars and … wait! Was there some sort of parade?”

“Kinda. You loved it.”

“Everything's coming back. Orrin, Ms. Gulp…” Charlotte paused and looked at Tobias. “Dad left us, didn't he?”

“He did.” Tobias nodded.

“And Mom's dead,” she said in a whisper.

Tobias ached for all the sadness he had been through, but he ached even more for what it had done to his sister.

“I need to sleep,” Charlotte said sadly. “I want to wake up somewhere more hopeful.”

“If you want to wake up somewhere more hopeful, then we need to move. They're planning something, an extraction, and if they find out our minds are clear, they'll take us back to old man Withers and dumb us up again with his voice. The only hope we have is to escape NOW!”

Tobias stood and reached for his sister. She breathed in deeply and then took his hand.

“We'll visit Fiddle first.”

“Really? He thinks we're made up,” Charlotte reminded him.

“Fiddle knows something, and at this hour he should be in his room. He said there was a door that could lead us off the mesa. I think I can get us out of the building, and if he knows where to go from there, then it should be easy.”

“Easy?”

“Well, less than impossible.” Tobias smiled.

“Plus, I have a surprise for you.”

“It's not another pinch, is it?”

Tobias retrieved something from beneath one of the cots.

BOOK: Witherwood Reform School
4.27Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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