The Three Thorns

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The Three Thorns Page 7

by Michael Gibney


  Bravely, the sick boy walked along the last stretch of hallway, nearing a small dip in front of him. Three carpet-covered steps led to a short landing that joined another three identical steps leading upward toward a door, slightly ajar. A beam of light shone through the gap in the doorway and widened as the door began to creak open.

  The rabbit hunter stepped into the smaller landing below, blocking the glow from the doorway that silhouetted him. He looked up at the terrified boy standing three steps above him, then walked closer to reveal his face half covered in the shade. His face was round and colorful and welcoming in the clear light, which made Benjamin feel less afraid of him.

  “How are you feeling, son?” O’Malley asked in a deep voice as coarse as his cough.

  Benjamin noticed the man’s large red scar along his right cheek again, but this time he could see it in all of its grotesque detail. The scar started on the side of his forehead and ran all the way down his cheek and ended next to his chin. It was a very severe and wide scar, which was unfitting on such a handsome and kind face.

  “I-I feel sick,” Benjamin muttered honestly. O’Malley immediately turned and opened the door behind him fully to reveal a brightly lit kitchen.

  “Well then,” replied O’Malley, “you’d best come in and have some food.”

  Benjamin slowly took a step down until he peered behind O’Malley’s shoulder and saw Tommy Joel. Tommy sat comfortably at the large oak table in the kitchen, sipping steaming tomato soup from a big bowl. An older boy sat near Tommy, shoving big chunks of bread into his mouth using one hand.

  “He’s like a pig,” Benjamin accidentally said aloud.

  O’Malley chuckled. “Please, have a seat,” he said, attending to a small burning pot under a stone fireplace. “You boys are a long way from home, huh?”

  “Oh, we don’t have—.” Benjamin began to speak when he was interrupted by a clout across his scalp by Tommy.

  “Yes…you could say that, we’re here to visit a relative…of sorts,” Tommy tittered nervously as he forced a smile at O’Malley.

  “I can’t remember how I got here?” asked Benjamin curiously, keeping a suspicious eye on the rabbit hunter.

  “You fainted due to the cold. You both did,” muttered O’Malley, pouring thick, steaming tomato soup from the boiling pot into a spare bowl.

  The kitchen was even richer than the hallway and a lot cosier. Dried flowers and herbs hung from the wooden ceiling. A small fireplace built into the wall warmed the room. A black teapot hung directly over the glowing coal and slowly began to boil and whistle.

  “Mind your plate, son. It’s rather hot,” O’Malley warned, setting the steaming bowl of soup in front of Benjamin. He then rushed to lift the whistling pot of tea away from the fire.

  “Thanks for the, you know, shelter and everything,” Benjamin mumbled awkwardly.

  “You mean for saving your life? You’re welcome. You boys would’ve frozen out there if I hadn’t found you.”

  “Well, we don’t want to take up any more of your time, Sir,” Tommy added, motioning to Benjamin to eat quickly.

  Benjamin tried one full mouthful of soup, which was so hot that he spat it out.

  “Look who’s eating like a pig now,” Tommy teased.

  Shaking his head at Benjamin, the rabbit hunter gave a long sigh. “I told you the soup was hot.”

  “We need to get moving, Brannon. I’ve checked the map, this Jacob fellow can’t be far from here,” Tommy whispered, unaware that the older boy was eavesdropping beside them. “And I don’t trust this guy.”

  “Eat up, son, you need to keep up your strength,” O’Malley interrupted as he took to his seat at the end of the table. After O’Malley sipped his cup of tea he put on his reading glasses then rustled through pages of a recent newspaper. Benjamin noticed the front-page headlines:

  “TITANIC INQUIRY:

  HUNDREDS PERISHED.”

  “That’s a big ship,” Benjamin slurred with a mouthful of bread.

  O’Malley slowly peeked from behind the newspaper, revealing only his eyes and the tip of his scar.

  “She was,” he sighed.

  Benjamin was about to finish his last spoonful of soup the second he noticed the stamp mark on the front of the newspaper.

  His eyes widened as he read the name Jacob O’Malley.

  “Jacob?” Benjamin gasped the same time Tommy did.

  “I was wondering how long it would take for you both to notice that,” Jacob said softly, lowering the newspaper.

  “You? You’re Peter’s friend?” Tommy asked, crumpling the map in his hands before Jacob motioned to take it from him.

  “Forgive me, young Masters. I was supposed to meet with you when you arrived at Warwickshire Station. I’ve been travelling to that platform every day for over a month just to make sure I wouldn’t miss your arrival. My carriage was frozen the evening you both arrived…so I went by foot,” he continued. “I was expecting three of you.”

  “Peter stayed behind,” Tommy said, handing Jacob the crumpled map.

  Jacob gently unfolded the map on top of his newspaper.

  “Peter is not the third. He was supposed to bring three of you here, for safety.”

  “We lost George at the train station,” Tommy explained anxiously.

  “Is George the boy from the theater?” Jacob asked intently, pointing to the Royal Opera House on the map.

  Tommy and Benjamin looked bemused to one another and hesitantly shook their heads. “Theater?” asked Tommy.

  “George was from the orphanage too I’m guessing, right?” Jacob asked patiently. “Never mind.”

  Benjamin and Tommy quickly shrugged their shoulders at one another.

  “A boy who was brought into great wealth will complete The Three That Are One,” Jacob whispered, returning a glance to the older boy across the table. Jacob didn’t need to say anything; Benjamin and Tommy realized that the older boy knew exactly what the rabbit hunter was talking about.

  “Three what?” Tommy demanded.

  “You’ll know…in time,” Jacob replied, leaning back on his chair.

  “So, does this mean we can stay here?” Benjamin asked.

  “If you work, yes. I am in need of extra hands to run this farm. You can start tonight by helping Luther chop logs for the fire. As long as you work, you can stay.” Yawning, Jacob lifted the newspaper and unfolded it in front of his face again, blocking his eager houseguests who looked to him for more answers.

  “What about Peter?” Benjamin asked suspiciously.

  “He’ll be back,” Jacob said confidently. “First thing is first, Masters; we need to get your living arrangements sorted. Benjamin’s the smallest, so he can take the attic space. Don’t worry boys, Peter will return.”

  ***

  When evening drew to a close, Jacob sat among the boys inside the large living room and lit a fire. Benjamin got to know all about Jacob and the massive farm he owned. He learned a lot about the older boy named Luther too. Years ago, Jacob discovered the frail and frightened boy sleeping beside his animals to keep warm. Luther was a mute since the day Jacob met him and welcomed him into his home. No one knew where he came from or how he had found Jacob…apart from Jacob.

  When O’Malley’s family died, they had left him all their wealth, including the farmland his father and grandfather had in their family for generations. Once his family passed away, Jacob took care of Luther and had him work on the farm in return for food and shelter.

  Without much persuasion, Jacob told Benjamin and Tommy more about life on the farm.

  In return, the boys shared their stories of Gatesville and, of course, the horrible and frightening Mr. Jennings.

  After they had settled down near the toasty fire, loud neighing resounded through an open window in the hallway.

  “What on earth was that?” Benjamin demanded while cautiously shifting closer to the fireplace.

  “There are
some scarves and long jackets on the hanger in the hall. Get your shoes on. I want to show you something,” Jacob said quietly.

  Handing the keys to Jacob while the man re-lit his portable lamp, Luther opened the main door to the farmhouse.

  Outside, the massive top door of one stable had been blown open by the brisk winds of the harsh winter’s night. Benjamin felt nervous once he heard the loud distressing neighing of a young steed up close. Jacob chuckled at Benjamin’s fearful reaction and, with a reassuring hand, patted the boy on his shoulder.

  “It’s okay Benjamin…she won’t hurt you,” assured Jacob as he unlocked the bottom hatch of the stable door. “See for yourself.”

  Benjamin clapped his eyes upon the most sorrowful sight lying in the corner of the stable after Jacob’s lamp reflected off the fresh, golden stacks of hay.

  Other horses peered down at her from their stable dividers. Her deep auburn color was instantaneously eye-catching, along with her thick lengthy tail and heavy white hooves. Her beautiful eyes were full of fear that gripped Benjamin with compassion. Neighing louder in fright, the young horse tried to stand upon her feet to no avail. Stumbling down on the haystacks, the poor beast breathed heavily from exhaustion.

  “Not so fast,” Jacob whispered, reaching a hand out to slow Benjamin down, who was by her side in seconds. Soaking the moment in, Benjamin gently lifted his right hand to stroke her matted mane of hair.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Tommy asked curiously.

  “She’s caught a bad fever this winter…it hasn’t shifted. It started a few weeks ago and just recently she’s lost her appetite.”

  Jacob sighed, pausing for a moment to stare back down into the horse’s glazed eyes. “But given the right amount of attention and care…I’d say she’ll be right as rain,” he added assuredly. “Any of you lads up for the job?”

  It only took a second until Benjamin spoke up fervently. “I am.”

  “I thought as much,” Jacob said, showing a proud smile. “What do you think of her?”

  “She’s the greatest thing I’ve ever seen,” Benjamin gasped, revealing a huge smile of joy he could no longer contain. “What does she need?”

  “A friend,” Jacob said finally.

  “What’s her name?” Tommy asked.

  “I haven’t gotten round to naming her yet. Maybe Benjamin could give her a name, since he’s her caretaker now,” Jacob smiled.

  “Alright,” Benjamin said happily.

  “Good, you can start tomorrow. She needs company…and could do with a good groom. Who knows, maybe a little bit of extra attention is all she needs to get her appetite back.”

  Jacob and Tommy made their way toward the entrance of the stable door while Benjamin rested his head gently on the horse’s body to hear her large heart beat.

  “I’ll get you on your feet again girl…I promise,” Benjamin whispered.

  The horse turned her head round to look at him face to face as if thanking him. Jacob dimmed the lamp.

  “Time to show you how to lock these stable doors properly then, Benjamin,” Jacob said.

  ***

  Winter passed into a glorious spring. Benjamin assisted Jacob and taught Tommy how to read the great works of William Shakespeare and Oliver Cromwell by day. In the evenings, after working on the farm digging crops and planting seeds, Jacob would take the three boys horse riding to explore the countryside.

  That was one of Benjamin’s favorite activities. He took charge of cleaning the stables and tended to the horses, which gave Luther a break from his everyday duties. Horses rapidly became Benjamin’s beloved type of animal, especially his very own horse he named Poppy after she had recovered in time for the poppy season. Jacob gave Poppy to Benjamin as a reward for the months of care and hard grafting he’d put into helping her and for the great job he did fixing up the stables.

  Benjamin mostly helped Luther with indoor work while Tommy assisted Jacob in the open fields.

  Jacob often taught the boys the old English sport of cricket, but Tommy’s much-loved day was always a Saturday, for this was soccer day. With a group of only four, the games would last all afternoon, sometimes having to exclude goalkeepers so they could split into proper teams of two. Once summer had approached, activities such as fishing, hiking and camping were introduced to the boys for the first time.

  They didn’t want it to end, especially every time the thought of capture by Mr. Jennings crossed their worried minds.

  12

  The Disappearing Act

  After Sebastian’s methodical nightly search of the opera house balcony, he went back to bed. For months he had routinely checked the same spot where he had first seen the ghostly face of the white haired boy. But now Sebastian was beginning to believe he had imagined the whole thing. His eyes felt heavy once he moved his worn fingers over the golden embroidery on the maroon blanket he’d had since he was a baby. Before he could put the cloth back in his pocket he slipped into a deep sleep.

  It didn’t take long for Sebastian to dream. He quickly found himself standing on a luxuriously warm carpet upon a marble balcony. Judging from the height of the marble balcony and the architecture decorated with gargoyles before him, he was on the top level of some enormous castle. The timid whistling of soft wind was soon drowned out by an arrival of several screeching monsters that flew onto the balcony a few meters ahead of him.

  Sebastian tried to back away the moment he saw the leader of the pack adorned in a tall white cloak. As the white hooded figure approached him through the gathering of monsters, a steel hand suddenly grabbed at Sebastian’s neck from behind him. The touch was ice cold and began pushing him toward the monsters. Sebastian then saw two unfamiliar boys his age being forced to kneel in front of the hooded figure, whose face was concealed by a bronze mask.

  In a split second, Sebastian witnessed the white-cloaked man strike at the necks of the two boys from a mighty and large needle-like sword. The two victims reached toward Sebastian for help until their bodies abruptly turned to burnt charcoal. Sebastian was forced to stand in front of the boys as their faces disintegrated into ash.

  At that moment, the white-cloaked villain appeared through the ashy residue of the dead children, raising his deathly sword high over his shoulders as he prepared to strike Sebastian down.

  “Sebastian!”

  Greta’s voice pierced through his little eardrums and echoed through the grounds of his nightmare. Fumbling out of his springy bed as he woke, Sebastian reached the sink in his quarters to splash a few handfuls of cold water over his sweaty face.

  “Only a dream. Not real,” he whispered to himself, staring at his reflection.

  Greta’s shrieks sent tension across his shoulders. Preparations for the early summer show remained unfinished, putting the Cain family under pressure. The props department and costume designers had been working night and day for the better part of two months now and the signs of exhaustion were beginning to show.

  Viktor was grouchier than ever, intimidating his employees when given the opportunity. Sebastian knew the one thing that made his father even madder than a taunted bull was anyone who caused upset to his wife. And Sebastian was about to do just that.

  “Sebastian Cain, you get here this instant!” Greta screeched.

  Her relentless requests that afternoon irritated Sebastian as much as they exhausted him. Mop this mess! Clean those windows! Dust these rows! Wash these clothes! Paint these props!

  The scrawny woman stood at the entrance to the theater’s backstage door, tapping her long fingernails on each side of the doorframe.

  “One of the main lights blew out near the top balcony. The props department needs someone small enough to climb up there and fix it,” she said casually with a sarcastic smirk, knowing that Sebastian had a phobia of heights.

  “B-but I’m supposed to help Father tighten up the loose seats in the auditorium,” he pleaded to her. Greta raised one finger to silence him and
headed back toward her dressing room, leaving a trail of smoke behind her.

  “You heard her, boy,” his father bellowed.

  The familiar foreign voice always spoke after Greta’s chastising. It was like a chain re-action. Viktor had a bad habit of sneaking up behind folk without making the slightest sound. His stealth baffled Sebastian and many of the other workers in the theater as to how such a large and loud person could be as quiet and indiscernible as a house mouse.

  “Yes, Sir,” Sebastian mumbled. Viktor handed him the new light bulb.

  The heavy light proved very awkward for the puny boy to carry. Walking with the equipment was hard enough without having to climb scaffolding in the process. But Sebastian had no choice. It was either conquer his fear of heights on the spot or face a vicious thrashing from Viktor.

  The props men and costume designers watched in anticipation. Even the orchestra stopped their rehearsal to look on when Sebastian started to climb. The conductor’s jaw dropped in shock after he gazed up from his rehearsed notes.

  The unstable scaffolding swerved a few inches back and forth. At one point, it swerved so far to one side it looked ready to topple. Carrying the ceiling bulb over his shoulder, Sebastian clung on tightly to the last bar above him. One last pull helped him reach the top.

  But the weight of the bulb wires proved too heavy, dragging him backward until his body tilted over the side of the scaffolding. He flapped out his arms in all directions, trying to grab a hold of anything. The floor staff gasped in horror at the sight of Sebastian’s near fall.

  Viktor swiftly cried out for somebody to get his son away from the ceiling lights. Greta stood helplessly in shock.

  No matter what Sebastian tried, he couldn’t balance himself, until something caught hold of his arm just when he was about to fall. Sebastian looked down and yelped when he saw how high he dangled from the theater floor.

 

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