by Shane Mason
Lexington said, ‘I'm fine. I think’
‘I'm good,’ Melaleuca said.
Quixote said nothing. He wiggled his feet about realising how much fun he could have. He ran a short way, slid on to his feet, and then on to his backside.
Melaleuca scraped the mud out of her eyes.
‘For a first time! What happens on the second?’
‘Gets worse,’ Mohg said. ‘C’mon. Just a bit o fun. No ones ‘urt. And believes me ‘urts ‘appens ‘ere lots.’
Quixote squealed with delight as he started throwing his body around in the mud.
‘Mud fight!’
Mohg cried out in enjoyment.
‘Dat's it, da little ones got the idea, get right into it. As me old man used to say, don’t do nuffink by ‘alves.’
‘If no one is hurt, then fine,’ Melaleuca said.
‘Comes out and I wills get a nice ‘ot tub of water to cleans ya.’ Mohg and the dim wits trotted back the way they had come.
Lexington wiped the mud off the back of the cavern, exposing soft clay. She started pulling at it, clawing it away, like a rabbit ripping into the ground.
‘What is it Lex?’ Melaleuca asked.
‘I saw something before...and yes...look.’ Her tone suggested another discovery.
Faded colours, like those on a comic left out in the rain, sat on a hard flat surface. They all joined in, ripping the clay away, until they revealed a heavy metal ring, the sort used on old heavy doors.
‘It’s a door,’ Lexington said.
‘OI!’ Mohg’s voice yelled from the tunnel. ‘Urry up. Maybe ya want another hosing. Ah ha ha ha ha.’
‘Dig faster,’ Ari said.
‘Leave it,’ Melaleuca said. ‘Stop before Mohg comes back.’
‘It’s an eagle,’ Quixote said. ‘Look, that’s its head and that’s its body.’
‘Cover it up,’ Melaleuca said. ‘We can come back another day. I bet there are deeper mysteries here than even these people know.’
Above them the grate started to slide shut.
‘Dis will get ja out!’
Darkness engulfed them.
They walked out through the tunnel, finding Mohg waiting for them, holding what could be loosely labelled as towels. His fat, flabby body glistened with perspiration.
‘Ere just to show ya dere’s no ‘ard feelings.’
He led them back through the caves, passing little grottos and all the barbaric instruments they had seen when running through here.
A warm cauldron of water had been prepared for them. Mohg let them strip and wash the mud off. As they did so, he told them it bought back memories of when he was younger. Soon they were mudless and warm, though wet.
Mohg directed them through to another little cave, where a small boulder sat in the middle. Grunting, he shoved it to one side revealing a deep dark hole. Hot air rushed up from it, filling the cave with warm air currents.
‘Don’t falls in. Some boy did and dat was dat.’
‘Where does it lead?’ Lexington asked.
Mohg shrugged his shoulders.
Within minutes their sack-cloth clothes and their undergarments dried. Quixote tried to peer into the hole but the air rushed by too quickly to see anything.
Lexington’s mind raced with ideas, her round eyes filling with questions and possibilities, though she felt frustrated as she needed a pen and paper to start writing things down.
As they headed back upstairs, none the worse for their detention, they saw a familiar figure coming towards them, Harshon. She shook her head and tut-tutted them.
‘Detention so soon. I think we need to chat.’
They followed her at a brisk pace, passing by several notices, hammered onto a large wooden board. A large white piece of paper with blood red letters emblazoned across it, stood out. Quixote paused and read it.
‘All children are hereby warned. Anyone caught being kidnapped will be severely punished. Anyone spotting anyone acting suspiciously near young children must report it or they will be severely punished. Any information provided that leads to the apprehension of the perpetrator will stand that student or students in good stead.’
Quixote motioned to Lexington.
‘Hey, check it out. Let’s use the costumes to solve this?’
Lexington pulled back and ran her eyes over it.
It would need logic and accurate note-taking, though she reminded herself she had lots of other places and things to investigate, and that yesterday’s finds had hardly been collated.
Quixote prodded her.
‘Well?’
They both heard Harshon say, ‘Ahem.’
‘Later,’ Lexington said.
They carried on following her to her office, a rather warm feeling room on the second level. It had some soft chairs and looked like something out of England in the 1800s.
‘Master Saurian told me what happened.’
‘That man is a butcher,’ Ari said
‘He is our top Discipliner.’
‘For what?’ Lexington said. ‘Whipping little boys.’
‘There is much to be done here for the sake of the world,’ Harshon said.
‘The world? How do you mean?’
She ignored the question, gazing out the window.
‘My role here is simple, to make sure all students fit in and know the rules and obey them. I am the first, last and only point of understanding. Beyond me there is nothing.’
‘We have never had such strict rules,’ Ari said.
‘They are simple.’ She rattled them off robot-like, losing her soft human tone. ‘Never speak unless spoken to. Do all that is asked of you. Never complain. Suffer and learn from it. Become morally strong. Stifle emotions.’
‘We made a promise to our mothers, that we would always be ourselves. These rules are rubbish,’ Melaleuca said.
‘Your mothers,’ Harshon said, miles away in thought. ‘I have been wondering.’ She pointed her question at Melaleuca. An uneasy edge crept into Harshon’s tone. ‘Your mother. Where was she from?’
‘From?’
‘Yes. Where was she born and raised?’
‘They never said. Why?’
‘They?’
‘My mother and their mothers were sisters, quadruplets.’
‘You look so much like a girl I used to know,’ Harshon said. ‘One that attended the Vahn.’
She knew Harshon referred to one of their mothers, especially as she was the only cousin to look similar.
‘Was your mother’s name Karena?’ Harshon asked.
Melaleuca shook her head.
‘Anyway,’ Harshon said. ‘You need to obey the rules.’
‘What happened to her? Karena?’ Lexington asked. This could be the key needed to solve everything.
Harshon’s eyes glistened and she appeared to struggle against rising sadness. She rose and looked out the window, hiding her attempts to regain her composure.
‘She did not make it,’ Harshon said.
‘Is she dead?’ Quixote asked.
‘She was sent to the southern wastelands I bet,’ Ari said.
Harshon nodded. ‘Yes. I’ve not seen her since.’
‘And you think she may have escaped to the outside world.’ Lexington added, intrigued, staring at the quill and paper on her desk wanting them.
Harshon shook her entire body, chanted some low words, and then turned. ‘Of course not, besides it was nearly thirty years ago.’
‘We may not understand your ways, but we are not stupid,’ Lexington said in a serene voice. ‘You are hiding something.’
Again the sadness surfaced on Harshon’s face.
‘What is it?’ Melaleuca asked.
The clean soft faces of the cousins possessed of an innocence no longer seen in the children of New Wakefield, beamed at Harshon.
‘You are in danger,’ Harshon said trying to control herself. ‘You threaten them. I can see it now. If this is all it takes to make people feel, then things will be
worse for you than I have imagined.’
‘How are we in danger?’ Melaleuca said.
A look of great reluctance passed over her. After considering her thoughts she leaned forward and said, ‘New Wakefield people are very suspicious, especially of outsiders. A few days ago a local re-disciplining house in the upper valley was raided. Some say it was outsiders.’
‘What did these outsiders look like?’ Lexington asked.
‘Never mind. I am sure it is a coincidence. Just unfortunate that Matron Gertrude cleared the way for you to come to the Vahn at the same time.’
She stood, still struggling to regain her tranquil composure.
‘It was not always like this. New Wakefield has always been strict and enforced moral codes. But not this. It’s like the sun shines, but no heat gets through. My grandparents said it started changing after the outside world had a large, prolonged battle called World War I. But they would say no more til I was older. They died before telling me. It got worse when ─ ’
The horn that had sounded to let all the children in bellowed once again, shaking Harshon out of thinking about the past.
‘It’s break time, out into the Vahn yard. I will talk to you later.’
She crossed her office floor to open the door, and ushered them out.
***
The corridors filled up with children of various ages, and the cousins followed them outside. The throng led them to the far south gap of the Vahn. There the amphitheatre split open into a deep ravine about ten metres across. The ravine ran south for two hundred metres, stopping at a small dam. Beyond it lay a great lake, easily a mile across and a mile in length. A large field with well kept lawns ran beside it, and in the distance sat a three-storey, rundown building that looked like a college from Victorian England. Testifying to its vacant emptiness, smashed windows, missing chunks of roof, broken plaster, faded paint, and crumpled walls adorned it.
The cousins stood on a parapet on the edge of the field watching as the students filed onto the field. The older ones gathered to talk, while some took younger children into small huddles. Some of the groups marched around with an older student yelling at them, while others no older than five got handed small leather straps and were shown how to whack themselves.
‘What are you waiting for? Go down and mix,’ said Master Saurian from behind.
They turned and looked, though were unsure.
‘Afraid,’ Master Saurian asked.
‘I'm not afraid,’ Quixote said bounding off into a crowd of children. ‘There must be someone in here that will play.’
‘I'm not afraid either,’ Ari said, following Quixote.
From behind Master Saurian, Discipliners started appearing. Melaleuca recognized some of them as those that had visited Aunty Gertrude that morning.
‘We have to get down there,’ Melaleuca said.
Ari caught up with Quixote in time to see him talking to a group of older teenagers who were backing away and staring at him. Once the girls joined them, a small ring of students started to close around them, though they kept their distance and just stared. A commotion broke out and a disturbance shoved its way forward through the crowd. Suddenly a male student ejected himself from amidst the crowd and approached them. He looked like a smaller version of Master Saurian, but without the scales on his face.
‘So you are the outsiders,’ he said with a brash, cocky manner.
‘I am Ari and these are my cousins Melaleuca, Lexington and Quixote.’ Ari said.
‘I am Jerkin Bod’armor. I hail from the oldest house here, the House of Steel.’
The crowd cheered him.
Unsure what to say in return, the cousins offered a moments silence.
Jerkin drew in a deep breath.
‘WELLL!’
‘Oh great another person who yells,’ Quixote said.
‘WHAT?’
‘You’re yelling,’ Quixote said. ‘That's all anyone ever does here. Not very intelligent.’.
‘Troublemakers. We know how to take care of your sort,’ Jerkin yelled to the crowd.
‘Take care!’ Lexington said. ‘Take care,’ and trying to use her gentleness on him, added, ‘No one is taking care of us.’
The lilt of her sweet voice puzzled Jerkin, unsure how to respond. But then like the man ripping out flowers, he snarled back and said, ‘We’ll take care of you all right.’
Ari and Quixote tried to form a cordon around Lexington and Melaleuca.
‘Save your breath,’ Melaleuca said. ‘They want our blood.’
Jerkin muscled up to them, folding his scarred and gnarled arms.
‘How did you do in your tests? What was your score in Bramble Spread? Tell me how you mastered Disciples Park, and please tell the whole crowd how well you did in the Unforbidden Forest.’
Jerkin grabbed Quixote’s hands.
‘Look,’ he yelled to the crowd, ‘The hands of a child, white and without blemish.’
A horde of boys rushed forward, knocking the cousins off their feet. Within seconds they lay on the ground with yards of rope wrapped so tight around them they could not move.
‘What shall we do?’ Ari yelled to Melaleuca.
‘Think.’
‘Of what? All the possibilities. A little late isn't it,’ Lexington said.
Ari pushed with all his might against the ropes to no avail, while Quixote rolled over and over and over, bashing in to the legs of some of the onlookers. Melaleuca and Ari started rolling into the crowd as well.
‘Stop them or I will crack skulls,’ Jerkin shouted.
The vast array of boys and girls overwhelmed their valiant effort to escape. The crowd carried them back to Jerkin. Jerkin led them behind the old, run-down building to an area that looked like gallows from an ancient culture. Posts stood erect out of black concrete like decaying crucifixes that had lost their crossbars.
‘Strap them in!’
Still bound tight, they were pushed onto the posts, and strapped against them with large leather belts.
‘Stay calm,’ Melaleuca said. ‘Just relax. Say nothing.’
Jerkin strode up to her, stared her in the eye and said, ‘After the Discipliners, I am in charge. This area all around here is mine. I am in control.’
In her coldest tone Melaleuca spoke back.
‘We know little of these animosities. Let us go now and all will be well with you. I may even spare you future embarrassment.’
The cheering crowd fell silent. No one had spoken to Jerkin like that before; no one ever spoke back to any one older than them. No one dared threaten Jerkin. It was just the rules.
At first Jerkin did not reply; he seemed disturbed by Melaleuca’s words, and then with his rough hand he seized her chin, squeezing it.
‘We shall see how defiant you are after this.’
He snapped his fingers and stood back.
More children came running carrying buckets of water. Carefully they poured the water over the ropes, soaking them fully until they were waterlogged. Large teenage boys with low foreheads and squinty unintelligent eyes stepped forward and yanked hard on the ropes, forcing air out of them.
‘As the sun rises and the ropes dry they will tighten even more,’ Jerkin said. ‘I have seen arms drop off, legs wither away to purple, and even heads explode with this exquisite form of discipline. Pass this, and I shall hate you still of course, but will allow you to step foot on my territory.’
The crowd cheered and hurled abuse after abuse at the cousins before dissipating.
In bleak desolation the ropes hugged them to the poles.
Chapter 23 - Le Resistance
The ropes tightened, millimetre by millimetre squeezing their body at a snail’s pace.
Melaleuca pushed against the ropes and gasped.
‘Don’t give up. Imagine, play, pretend.’
Ari grunted and pushed with all his might, though he ran out of strength for the first time ever.
Lexington let out a desolate cry.
‘Should have gathered facts….run away….searched for parents…fine mess Mel.’
Doubt gnawed at Melaleuca. How could they pretend now? In mild shock, she cast her eyes around, searching for ideas. An empty field of wild grasses lay behind them, leading to the hills of the southern wasteland. Uninviting, eroded and yellowed, and possessing great grey patches of rock, it offered little hope. Even the run down building before them gave off an air of defeat; its empty, broken windows appearing like hollowed out eyes on a skull. And, of course, rearing up behind it stood the Vahn.
Quixote strained his head as far forward as possible, craning to look toward Melaleuca.
‘Hey… Lex, Mel…..guess what I am.’
‘What?’ Lexington asked.
He craned further.
‘Look.’
Melaleuca pushed her head forward, catching sight of his scrawny head jutting out past Ari and Lexington’s head.
Quixote put his head to one side and hung his tongue out.
‘I don't get it,’ Lexington said.
‘A mummy. Get it. A mummy. These ropes are my bandages.’
Lexington broke a weak smile, and Quixote laughed but then gurgled in pain as the ropes tightened more.
‘Hey Lex,’ he said, straining in pain.
‘Oh what!’
‘It's too much, too much, they are stopping me breathing, ahhhhh.’
Quixote screamed.
‘Quixote. Quixote. Mel, Ari, Quixote can't breathe.’ She struggled with her ropes, and they tightened more.
Quixote contorted his face in great pain.
‘Got to…..let some……air out.’
He screamed again. A loud “whoooooommmpping” noise erupted, followed by the sound of air squeezing through a narrow gap. Quixote roared with laughter, gasping for breath, yelling out, ‘We...should....call ....these...fart....machines....’
‘You bloody rotter. I thought you were gone for.’
What an idiot. Yet felt gladdened by his stupidity and for his happiness in the face of adversity.
The ropes tightened more, creaking against the post they were tied too. They tightened across Lexington’s bladder creating a desperate urge to pee. The pressure increased until she could no longer hold it. Instead of running down her legs it spread throughout the ropes, loosening them slightly.
