Chapter 7: Fjords
July 30, 1938
Saturday
The last week of July was especially hot, causing a steady stream of thunderstorms. The streets were plunged into daytime darkness, and then huge black clouds angrily dropped tons of water onto the streets of London, laying the dust to the ground. I loved it. The air after bad weather was beautiful every time, like the first time I got caught in a downpour, soaked to the skin, but didn't rush to the orphanage because the smell stopped me. Then I stood still, unable to breathe in the freedom and the intoxicating scent of it. And now there was someone who enjoyed those moments as much as I did. Irene threatened every time that she was ready to throw off her sandals and rush into the first puddle she could find and douse me. When I asked her why, the answer was simple: because it was fun. Fortunately, all her heroic speech remained only a threat and never translated into action.
Life got back on track and continued its monotonous run, which was more like a snail's crawl. Once a year, the Wool's Orphanage took all the kids on a field trip or an excursion. Of course, it was all very modest, since very little money was allocated for it, and the activities themselves were short-term. I looked forward to the planned general trip to the sea at the weekend. Irene was categorically denied participation because she had stolen a chess set and was caught after lights out. It was part of the "official" punishment. No one guessed that I knew about everything that happened. I was well aware that what really happened was that the boys and Mrs. Cole were just taking out their anger on her... Unpleasant shivers ran through my body. Who had ever given them the right to touch what was mine?
The long-awaited Saturday morning had come into force, and I had taken a moment to hurry up to the third floor. The familiar worn door, the lax handle mechanism of which obediently clicked under my onslaught, and there was an unpleasant creaking sound. My gaze was immediately drawn to Irene in a light-colored nightie sitting at the table. Without looking back, she spoke:
"Hi, Tom!" She shook her head, and her hair spread out over her light clothing. Only now did I notice how long it was.
"Good morning, Irene!"
She was doing something so enthusiastic and concentrated that she didn't even turn around once. What could be more interesting and important than me? I walked briskly into the room, looking at the small bed, which looked more like a laundry ruin: the blanket was crumpled, the pillow was about to fall to the floor. As soon as I was beside the pillow, I pushed it closer to the wall. Everything around this girl was tended to chaos!
Having eliminated the pillow, ready to take on the role of floor rag and pick up dirt from the floor, I peered quietly over Irene's shoulder. There were yellowed sheets scattered across the table, and one piece of charcoal was crumbled. Yeah, the slightest air movement and all that coal dust would be on the floor. I looked down, where the little feet didn't reach the floor. There was a weak breeze from the ajar window - some of the black crumbs flew swiftly off the table. No one would have guessed why I sighed so heavily. And the reason was that I imagined those same bare feet stomping across the cold tiles, grimy as a street beggar's because of the damn coal. My eye twitched faintly. I took one sheet from the table to quickly make an envelope out of it. With a slight wave of my hand, the scattered charcoal obediently soared upward and flowed smoothly into the paper in my left hand. That's better! I placed the envelope next to Irene, whose expression was still focused. Furrowing her brow, she blew on the loose curl that picked at her eyes. Her pale little fingers were black, because she had painstakingly drawn, blurring the lines with her fingertips.
"I'll come to you after lights out when we get back," I calmly announced my intentions.
Irene didn't seem to care. She didn't pay any attention and continued her work. I couldn't hold back any longer, so I ran my hands through the locks of black hair that were begging to be held, and gently moved them back. My tenacious, pale fingers fiddled with Irene's hair, and finally I did up her hair in a plait that looked as if it had been worn for six months or more. I shrugged. I don't care. I don't know how to do it. She'll braid it herself. I deprived her of endless dissatisfied blows to her forehead.
"Deal," she finally muttered, turned around slowly and looked at me for the first time. Her huge green eyes had a surprising magnetism that I couldn't explain. Perhaps that was why Irene's gaze was always piercing, like cold-arms. It planted mercilessly and so easily beneath my ribs. Without blinking once, she held out her small, grimy hand for a firm handshake. I frowned suspiciously. "I'll draw in the meantime. Even though I'm not very good at it!"
The room was filled with ringing laughter. I couldn't help laughing back, though of course it was a fake. I refused to shake Irene's grimy hand. But I immediately put my arms around her frail body and squeezed it in a tight embrace, which made Irene squeak softly.
"Tom, I have a request," she wheezed, indicating that it was time to loosen the grip. I recoiled. "Bring me a white stone. I'd have two, in case you took one."
"Do you want to throw a stone in someone's eye?" My question sounded sarcastic, but I immediately smiled, picturing it in my head.
"Then it must be a trophy," Irene laughed venomously." I've decided to collect them.
"Well, do you want it as big as Chris's head, or bigger? Just to be sure."
She laughed and leaned forward to pat my hand. I ducked gracefully, for coal-stained clothes were not part of my plan. I took another quick look at her artwork: the drawings had the faint outlines of human faces. Could these be her memories?
On a cheerful note, we said goodbye. I went to the street where a rented yellow bus was waiting for the children from the orphanage. Irene buried in her drawing. There was no thought in her mind that I kept seeing her frail body, studded with scars and bruises. A month passed. I waited meekly, like a predator, hiding, hungry, but all the more focused on the outcome. Even if I'd had to wait six months or a year, my thirst wouldn't have subsided an ounce. It's all right. Let Irene draw. She loves it so much. She deserves a quiet morning, even if it is in this shitty place.
☾
The warm sea breeze hit my face. The children's merry laughter echoed across the deserted, rocky beach. Mrs. Cole and Miss Blair were talking about something of their own, shouting discontentedly that we should not run far away. I even agreed with their discontent, because the kids looked like bugs that had been let go with an open hand and crawled in different directions. However, I also stealthily pulled away from everyone else and walked toward the rocky stretch that was not far away. No one, of course, noticed my absence, and if they did, they probably silently rejoiced.
It felt especially good to be away from everyone else. The wind ruffled my hair cheekily, and I immediately breathed in, enjoying the moment. It felt so good! I wished Irene was here... The cry of a seagull behind me made me turn around. A white bird had landed on a large cobblestone and was nibbling at its prey, which was fluttering in its beak. The fish was still alive. It wriggled frantically and flopped down, landing in a ravine. The bird soared upward, heading for the sea again.
It can fly, it was born with the right to fly. If I could, I would follow it. Into the sky! There must be nothing more beautiful than soaring over endless expanses of water and fjords. Anyway, it was time to end my musings and go back. So I did, and found the boys, as well as both women, scattered. Chris and his friends, to my silent delight, were still there.
"Guys!" Everyone was staring at me right away. "Can I play with you?"
"Why, isn't your girlfriend with you?" Chris grinned, and his friend Tony, the faithful clingy one, immediately began to play along, nodding his head positively. The rest of them were silent, but their faces were still pompous.
What a short memory some human beings have! Have they completely forgotten how a few years ago the conflict situation with me showed who is who?
Chris, apparently, liked to play the role of a bad boy, the bully that made all the children scatter at the sight of him. In fact, no one ever wanted to get involved with him, because he certainly complained to Mrs. Cole when things got more serious. I couldn't stand snitches. My gaze once again slid over the company opposite. They were definitely afraid of me. They remembered well, and the mere shadow in the deserted corridor of Wool's Orphanage always made them hurry to their rooms. And Chris... Oh, that buffoon! It seems that he got caught up and forgot himself. It definitely would play into my hands.
"I don't know, she wasn't allowed to come with us for some reason," I shrugged my shoulders in confusion.
"I'm sure she was," Tony grinned. "She's a thief!" The whole company burst into laughter, maintaining that shaky illusion of dominance. I had no emotion whatsoever, so I just looked at the guys in confusion.
"I didn't know," I was genuinely surprised.
"Yes!" Tony snorted, poking Chris in the side with approval. "She stole the chess set, and then she wandered off after lights out. But I saw her on my way back from extra duty, with those chess sets on the stairs.
The whole company was hooting and laughing at the situation, at Irene... And I got the sickening feeling that they were laughing at me, too. How stupid they were! A couple more minutes and it was pretty obvious that it was Chris and Tony's handiwork. The rest of the guys weren't involved, and didn't find out about the situation until the next day from their buddies.
"I hope she wasn't coming to me, silly baggage. She would have set me up, too!" I exuded bewilderment and disappointment, throwing a cloak of them, rapidly lulling attention. "You know what... let's play? Hide and seek!"
My suggestion took the guys by surprise and they shrugged absentmindedly. It is clear that they did not want to play with me, but Mrs. Cole had strictly forbidden noise and scandals, so they agreed after a while. It was a simple manipulation with a counting rhyme, and the one I wanted was it.
"Well, where to hide here?" Chris muttered, doubting that hide and seek was a good idea.
"I don't know," Tony scratched the back of his head absently.
"I know a place!" I said in a childishly naive and sincere way. "When we first arrived, I took a little walk and saw that there was a very profitable place on that slope! I think we can hide there."
"That's great!" The boys immediately agreed, driven by the counting fast approaching zero.
Two figures of the boys, led by me, hid near the rocks.
"Here!" I pointed to the gorge with a smile. "I told you we could hide here!"
"Well, let's say... But can the three of us fit in?"
"Well, you and I are the first! If Tom doesn't have enough space, let him look for another one," Chris reasoned with a smart-ass look. "That's it."
"Come on, Chris! What about me?" I waved my arms in bewilderment.
"Riddle, you're being silly again, aren't you?" Chris's swaggering nature got out, which I was incredibly glad about. Tony, on the other hand, cast a cautious glance at me, but seeing my reaction, he, being completely unable to suppress his groveling, did not dare to stop his friend.
"The hell with you!" I shrugged my shoulders a little bit resentfully, but agreed.
Of course, Chris felt he was the leader of any pack, and, stuffing a small round medallion to keep it out of the way under his jacket, he was immediately the first to climb into the gorge, into which the failed seagull dinner had recently fallen. Tony disappeared after him. I took a deep breath of sea air and concentrated all my strength. No, not the physical ones, but the ones that gave me a sense of superiority over everyone else. The next moment a huge rock boulder lifted off the ground and slowly levitated to the spot where the boys had just come down.
An angry scream that was almost inaudible. Vague threats that everything would be told to Mrs. Cole, and I'd be thrown out of the orphanage on the street today. My gaze shifted lazily from the cobblestone to the horizon.
"How beautiful it is here, after all!" I said, succumbing to the allure of the moment. I looked under my feet, where were two small white stones: one round, the other with sharp corners. Just what I needed! I picked them up and put them in my pocket. "Oh, yes... You can't touch what belongs to me," I answered the muffled, helpless cries calmly.
I wandered slowly back to where we'd been before. My whole appearance screamed that I was filled with sadness, because I hadn't had time to hide. Which meant that I had lost the very first one in this beautiful game called hide-and-seek.
Soon all the kids were there, and so were Mrs. Cole and Miss Blair. We had to drive back to the orphanage, for the tide would be coming in within a couple of hours. Would all this lovely shore be flooded? I wished for a moment that I could see it and enjoy to the fullest what I had done. We left the place in a hurry and headed for the rental bus, which was about a fifteen-minute walk away. In all the commotion, of course, no one immediately noticed that the two boys were missing. Only when we were on the bus and they started counting us and calling our names, it turned out that they were absent.
A shadow of alarm flashed across the faces of the caretakers. There was no point in going back, for the tide was already coming in, and the shore, where we had recently been playing, was definitely beginning to sink under water. We were all told to sit quietly, not to go to the beach and wait for the boys, because everyone knew where the bus was, and everyone knew how to get there. Besides, Chris and Tony weren't particularly obedient, so they could have done something like that. However, the women informed the coast guard, and a few men in uniform went looking for the boys after all.
However, the boys didn't show up after ten minutes, half an hour, or an hour. Then everyone got really worried.
"Where did you see them last?" Mrs. Cole wheezed in an agitated voice.
"We were playing hide-and-seek," said the kids.
I sat distantly in the last seat of the bus and stared blankly out the window, waiting for us to finally get to that shitty Wool's Orphanage that I hated with every fiber of my being, but that's where she was. These thoughts consumed me completely when someone's stern voice brought me back to reality.
"Riddle!" Mrs. Cole squealed. "You were the last person the children saw Chris and Tony with!"
"Yeah," I nodded indifferently, "except they said I was a weirdo, and they weren't going to hide with me, and I'd better get out of their way," I finished my monologue just as indifferently.
Mrs. Cole glared at me incredulously, and Blair fiddled with a handkerchief in her hands.
Don't worry, dear Mrs. Cole, I'll deal with you later.
"We're going to the orphanage," she finally said. "Drop me off at the police building on the way. I'll file a missing person's report..."
The bus finally moved off, and I shamelessly gave myself up to the anticipation of ten o'clock in the evening, when the long-awaited lights-out would come.
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