Please Don't Make Me Go

by Fenton, John

  Pete Boyle climbed out of his bed and crept quietly back along the corridor. We all listened as he called, ‘Who’s laughing now?’ There was the sound of crashing objects as he was pelted with everything the boys could lay their hands on. He ran back into the dorm laughing and jumped into his bed. ‘Well done, lads,’ he said quietly. ‘We stuffed them.’

  Chapter 10

  ‘I want you to slide in on your left knee and side with your right leg out in front of you. Imagine that you are tackling a fast winger. Your right leg has to connect with the ball.’ Tom Banks had the entire squad lined up on the sidelines of the pitch. ‘Sprint forward across the pitch and when I blow my whistle you slide in with your imaginary tackle.’

  We had been practising the sliding tackle for two solid weeks at training. Tom demanded that everyone in his football squad should be able to tackle hard and fair. I had developed an image in my mind of Jimmy Wilkinson running with the ball and I was more than a little enthusiastic in diving in with my tackle. In my mind I never got the ball. My right foot always crashed into his ankle and he was left on the side of the pitch, crippled and writhing on the ground in agony. Tom liked my enthusiasm and after training called me over to speak to him.

  ‘You’ve really mastered the sliding tackle. Well done. I’m going to give you a game on Saturday in the second team.’

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I stood a chance of breaking into one of the teams. I was lost for words and stood looking at him with an inane grin plastered all over my face.

  ‘I’m going to play you at right back. You’ll be the last line of defence on that side of the pitch and as long as you tackle like I’ve seen you practise, nobody will be going past you.’ He patted me warmly on my shoulder. ‘You deserve your place.’

  I was in a daze when I walked away. I jogged over to Bernie and grabbed him by both his arms. I shook him wildly and screamed. ‘I’m in the team. I’m in the team.’

  Bernie didn’t look happy. ‘How come you got in the team? My ball control is better than yours.’

  I shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I think Tom likes the way I do the sliding tackle. He’s put me at right back.’

  Bernie shook his head. ‘You’re not big enough for right back.’

  ‘Well, that’s where he’s put me and I’ll make sure I don’t let him down.’ I noticed how peeved he seemed at my news. ‘I thought you’d be pleased for me, not jealous.’

  ‘I am pleased for you.’ Bernie looked contrite. ‘I just wish he had given me a chance as well.’

  I put my arm around his shoulder and said, ‘He’s bound to pick you soon, Bernie. You’re too good to be left out.’

  We walked back to the schoolyard in silence. I was thinking about St Gregory’s and the taunts of the children. I wish they could see me play on Saturday in a team that hadn’t been beaten for eighteen months. I idly wondered if the team would win any trophies this year and if we would have our photograph taken and see it hung on the recreation room wall.

  I fell asleep that night with wonderful thoughts going through my mind. I had lulled myself into a false sense of security, which was shattered and smashed to pieces in the early hours of the morning.

  I woke up and wondered why I was awake. I lay quietly with my eyes shut and listened for noises in the dormitory. Slowly I became aware of a cold draught on my right leg. I presumed that the bedclothes had shifted and my leg was exposed to the elements. Without opening my eyes I reached down to adjust the covers. My eyes flew open when my hand encountered an arm. I looked straight into the face of Jimmy Wilkinson, who had his hand underneath my bedclothes. I threw them back and was horrified to see that my penis was hard and Wilkinson was masturbating me. I screamed at the top of my voice in fear and shock. ‘Get the fuck away from me.’

  Wilkinson immediately let go and scrabbled to his feet. He looked across the dormitory and signalled to someone. I spun my head to see who he was signalling to.

  To my horror I saw another fifteen-year-old boy called Tony Birch kneeling by another bed. He was obviously doing the same to that boy as Jimmy Wilkinson had been doing to me. ‘Keep your mouth shut,’ Wilkinson hissed down at me.

  ‘Get the fuck away,’ I screamed even louder. Wilkinson and Birch ran out of the dormitory and disappeared along the corridor. By this time nearly all the boys were awake. My screaming had been loud enough to wake the dead. The door from the Brothers’ quarters was flung open and Brother Francis and Brother Arnold rushed in. They switched on the lights and looked angrily around the room.

  ‘Who was shouting?’ asked Brother Francis.

  I held my arm up and both Brothers came over to my bed and peered down at me. ‘So why were you shouting,

  Fenton? You had better be dying, seeing that you’ve decided to wake up the entire school.’ Brother Francis was not pleased.

  ‘I didn’t mean to wake up the school, Bro. I had a bad dream and screamed in my sleep.’

  ‘What were you dreaming about?’

  ‘I can’t remember, Bro. I just found myself sitting up in bed screaming.’

  Brother Arnold slapped me hard across my right cheek. ‘Maybe that will knock the bad dream out of your mind.’ He glared at me. ‘If you have any more bad dreams we’ll make you sleep in the middle of the sports field.’

  Brother Francis looked around at the dormitory. ‘Go back to sleep. The fun’s all over.’

  The room was plunged into darkness again and the two brothers went back through the door and presumably back to bed.

  I lay quietly looking up at the ceiling, trying to come to terms with what had just happened. How could someone have been masturbating me without me knowing about it? Had it ever happened before and I hadn’t woken up? How the fuck was I ever going to shut my eyes again? I was terrified. Jimmy Wilkinson was my worst nightmare and now I had to worry about Tony Birch as well. How many more queer and perverted bastards were there?

  I toyed with the idea of going to De Montfort and telling him what was going on, but quickly dismissed that idea. To grass on someone was the worst possible offence and could be very dangerous for the boy who did it. I wondered if it would be possible to poison Wilkinson. This thought appealed to me but I knew nothing about poisons and didn’t have a clue what I should use. That didn’t stop me thinking about it and planning how I could put it in his drink. I enjoyed the thought of him dying in agony.

  I was still awake when the school bell chimed six o’clock. I climbed out of bed and went slowly towards the washroom. To my horror Jimmy Wilkinson came out of his dormitory and followed me. He must have been waiting for me to go past his door.

  ‘What the fuck did you think you were doing last night? You could have got me and Birchy in deep trouble.’

  ‘I will never let you come near me again.’ My voice was trembling with fear. ‘If you ever come into my dormitory after lights out I will scream the place down.’

  I didn’t see the blow coming. Suddenly my head hit the tiled wall with a dull thud and Wilkinson was smirking. He had got me hard in the mouth with a right-hand punch. I had the distinctive taste of salty blood in my mouth and I ran my tongue over the inside of my lip. I could feel a swelling and a cut on the inside of my bottom lip which was caused by the punch knocking my teeth into my lip. The second punch hit me high on my cheekbone.

  ‘Don’t ever tell me what I can do. I’ll go where I like and you’ll keep your mouth shut.’ He tried to punch me again but I managed to block it with my arm.

  He was frightening me but I knew that I couldn’t let him think I was an easy target. ‘You can beat me up as much as you like but it won’t stop me screaming if you ever come near my dormitory again.’ For some unknown reason my teeth were chattering. ‘I mean it. I will scream the place down.’

  I only half blocked his next punch and I felt another swelling on my lips. The taste of blood was horrible and I spat a large mixture of spittle and blood onto the floor.

  Wilki
nson grabbed the top of my nightshirt and shoved me against the wall. ‘You’d better stay out of my way, you little wanker. And don’t come near me if you ever want to buy a roll-up. You can go and fuck yourself.’ He shoved me angrily away and went back out of the washroom.

  Though I had been hurt, I was elated with the outcome. Wilkinson wouldn’t dare risk coming into my dormitory. I could go to sleep without the fear of him sneaking in to molest me. I went over and looked in a mirror at my mouth. My teeth were all bloody and nasty looking and I sucked in a mouthful of cold water from the tap and swished it around before spitting it into the sink. I heard footsteps coming towards the washroom door. The door opened and Brother Michael came in.

  ‘Get yourself dressed, Fenton, and get over to the chapel. Father Delaney is over there already and you’re needed to serve a special Mass.’ He stood holding the washroom door open as I rinsed my face. He was impatient. ‘Hurry up,’ he said, ‘they’re waiting for you.’

  He followed me from the washroom and stood at the foot of my bed while I got dressed. ‘We’ll go through the school to the chapel; it’s quicker.’ He held open the door that led through the Brothers’ quarters then led the way via a maze of passages and down a flight of stairs until at last he took out a key and unlocked a door. I was surprised to find myself walking out of a door at the front of the school and only a few yards from the side of the chapel.

  When we entered the chapel I saw nearly every Brother and master kneeling in prayer. They were equally divided on both sides of the chapel and were saying decades of the rosary. Father Delaney was standing by the vestry door and nodded his head approvingly when he saw me. I hurried over and he led me by the arm into the vestry. I looked up at him questioningly.

  ‘Brother Ephraim was taken seriously ill during the night and we are going to say a Mass for his recovery. We will have to use the side aisle when we go to the altar as Brother Ephraim will be lying in his bed at the front of the middle aisle. Now that you have arrived they will have gone to fetch him, so hurry up and put on your serving robes.

  I found it difficult to walk sedately behind Father Delaney and not look over to where Brother Ephraim was lying. I was curious about what was wrong with him and, as I knelt down on the bottom step at the foot of the altar, I had an overwhelming urge to turn around and look at the bed that was behind me. I was so engrossed in fighting it that I nearly missed my first response.

  Father Delaney’s Mass voice brought me out of my curiosity. ‘Introibo ad altare Dei.’ (I will go to the altar of God.)

  I quickly bent my head and said quietly, ‘Ad Deum qui laetificat juventutem meam.’ (To God, the joy of my youth.)

  Father Delaney said, ‘Judica me, Deus, et discerne causam meam de gente non sancta: ab homine iniquo et doloso erue me.’ (Do me justice, O God, and fight my fight against an unholy people, rescue me from the wicked and deceitful man.)

  I replied with a response that could have been written for me. ‘Quia tu es, Deus, fortitude mea: quare me repulisti, et quare tristis incedo, dum affligit me inimicus?’ (For Thou, O God, art my strength, why hast Thou forsaken me? And why do I go about in sadness, while the enemy harasses me?’)

  The Mass took just under an hour before Father Delaney was genuflecting in front of the altar and saying, ‘ET VERBUM CARO FACTUM EST et habitavit in nobis; et vidimus gloriameius gloriam quasi Unigeniti a Patre, plenum gratiae et veritatis.’ (AND THE WORD WAS MADE FLESH, and dwelt among us, and we saw His glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth.)

  I replied, ‘Deo gratias’ (Thanks be to God) and stood up.

  Father Delaney came slowly down the altar steps and went directly to the foot of Brother Ephraim’s bed. I followed him and took up a position on his right. Father Delaney lifted his right arm and elaborately made the sign of the cross over Brother Ephraim saying, ‘Pax, Domini sit, semper vobis, cum’ (May the peace of the Lord be always with you).

  I replied, ‘Et cum spiritu tuo’ (And with thy spirit).

  As Father Delaney turned to walk back to the vestry I took a lingering look at Brother Ephraim. He was definitely very ill. His face was as white as the pillow he was resting on. I tried to detect a movement in his chest to show he was breathing but it didn’t seem to move at all. His eyes were shut and there was not a flicker of movement on his face. I noticed that his nose looked strange; marble in appearance and pinched. I quickly followed Father Delaney into the vestry.

  ‘Father, may I ask you a question?’ He nodded and closed his eyes briefly. ‘Was Brother Ephraim dead? I’ve never seen a dead person, but he looked dead.’

  ‘No, he isn’t dead. But he is very ill.’

  ‘Why isn’t he in hospital, Father?’

  ‘His illness was not unexpected. He has been ill for a very long time.’

  ‘I’d have thought they would have still kept him in hospital.’

  Father Delaney took me by the arm and led me to a chair in the corner of the room. ‘Enough of the questions, John. Take my word for it; Brother Ephraim has been very ill for a long time. He was a very brave man and wanted no fuss over his condition.’ He took out a packet of Senior Service cigarettes from his trouser pocket and lit one. He puffed on it hungrily and blew the smoke out in long blue streams. ‘You did very well this morning. I was surprised at your response when I blessed Brother Ephraim. How did you know the response Et cum spiritu tuo?’

  ‘It’s the same response as when you bless the congregation at Mass. You said the same words so I did the same response. Was it wrong, Father?’

  ‘So you remembered the words without looking at your response sheet.’ He took another cigarette from the packet and dropped it at my feet. ‘The Brothers are keeping a prayer vigil in and outside Brother Ephraim’s room. I must go and join them. Can I rely on you to put everything in order and shut up the front door?’

  ‘You’ve dropped a cigarette, Father.’ I bent forward and picked it up from the floor and held it out for him.

  ‘It’s been on the floor. I’ll trust you to put it in the bin when I’ve gone.’ He looked thoughtful. ‘Fancy you remembering the response. Well done, John. Well done indeed.’ He left the vestry and I felt sure he was smiling as he walked away.

  I waited a short time before lighting the cigarette.

  Brother Ephraim died at midday.

  Jimmy Wilkinson lost all his secreted cigarette money at 2 pm.

  Chapter 11

  I was called out of the bricklaying department just before lunch and ten minutes after Brother Ephraim’s spirit had left his body. Father Delaney sent for me and I was taken by Mr Lawson across the yard to the chapel. The chapel was nearly full, with most of the Brothers kneeling in silent prayer. Father Delaney was removing the stole that was hanging over his shoulders and down his front. He nodded sombrely at me.

  ‘Brother Ephraim has died. I have just come down from giving him the Last Rites.’ He folded the stole up neatly and kissed its hem before putting it away tidily in a cloth pouch. ‘He is being laid out at the moment and we will be accepting his body into the chapel at six o’clock.’ He blessed himself. ‘There will be a lot of coming and going in the next few days and quite a few dignitaries visiting the chapel. I have spoken to Brother De Montfort and he has released you from school duties so that you can be on call in the chapel. You may find yourself serving several masses a day with different priests; Brother Ephraim was a very well-loved brother.’ He peered down at me thoughtfully. ‘You might find yourself alone in the chapel for some periods of time. Just you and the body of Brother Ephraim. Will you be able to cope with that, or will you be frightened?’

  ‘I’ll be fine, Father. The dead can’t hurt me; only the living.’ I didn’t know how I would react but I didn’t want anything to get in the way of me having chapel duties.

  Father Delaney smiled. ‘A very wise saying, John. Where did you hear it?’

  ‘I’ve never heard it. I read it in some book.’ I tried to remember wha
t book I had read it in. My mind was blank. ‘It made a lot of sense to me, Father.’

  ‘You really are an enigma, John. Most boys in this school haven’t got past looking at pictures in comics and yet you are quoting sayings out of books and giving Latin responses out of your head.’ He shook his head. ‘It is such a pity to see a clever boy throw his life away. You could have done so much better.’

  ‘What’s an enigma, Father? I’ve never been called one of them before.’

  Father Delaney gave a throaty chuckle. ‘It means you’re a mystery. Hard to fathom.’

  ‘So, what do you want me to do before this evening, Father?’ I asked.

  ‘I’d like you to tidy up the small chapel cemetery. It’s been recently weeded but the path needs sweeping and the leaves picked up. Take the flowers from the chapel and share them out between the graves. They are bringing fresh flowers from the gardens for the chapel.’ He heaved a sigh and asked, ‘Do you think you can manage all that?’

  I nodded my head. ‘What shall I do after that? It won’t take me all afternoon to sort out a few leaves and twigs.’

  Father Delaney shrugged. ‘When that is done, just hang around the chapel. I’ll be in and out all afternoon.’ He took me to the door that led into the cemetery. ‘There should be a rake and a hard broom in the small shed.’ He pushed me gently out and closed the door behind me.

  I stood perfectly still, looking at the task in front of me. There were about forty headstones spread randomly around the small cemetery. They were all celtic crosses made out of a sort of grey gnarled stone and some of the inscriptions were hard to read as they were faded by wind, rain and age. The majority of the graves were those of boys who had died in the school from various illnesses in pre-war years. The last boy who died in Vincent’s was in 1937. The path that led from the door I had just emerged from curved in a gentle arc until it reached a small gate, which led onto the front lawn of the school. In a niche in the chapel wall was a small wooden shed that had been recently treated and varnished in a dark oak colour. I walked over to the shed and took out a long-handled garden rake and a rather well-worn broom.