Witherwood Reform School

by Obert Skye

  “Wait,” Charlotte whispered. “Someone’s coming.”

  Tobias closed the door so there was only a small crack to peek out of. The hallway was dark, but someone was pushing something squeaky and getting closer. As it passed the door the Eggers kids were hiding behind, they saw a man in a yellow lab coat pushing a wheelchair with a person in it. He was singing softly:

  There is no up, and there’s no down.

  The world may stop from spinning round.

  Tomorrow there’ll be light, they say,

  So rest up now, and we will see.

  Tobias and Charlotte held their breath as the singing man continued down the hall and into the dark.

  “Did you hear that?” Tobias asked in disbelief.

  The song was one that Mrs. Eggers had sung to her children almost every night before they went to bed. The night before she died, she had sung it to both of them. Charlotte had dozed off as she did. Tobias had complained about being too old for lullabies.

  “I want out,” Charlotte said nervously. “I hear too many sounds, and I’m so tired I can’t think straight. We need—”

  Charlotte was interrupted by the sound of an intercom snapping to life in the hallway. The crackling filled the air. They both put their hands up over their ears.

  “Attention, participants.” It was Orrin. “It seems as if we are missing a couple of new wards. The boy and the girl have mistakenly stepped from their room. If seen, they should be directed to where they belong. Thank you.”

  The intercom snapped off. Tobias and Charlotte stared at each other.

  “Not good,” Tobias whispered.

  He took his sister’s hand, and they walked back out into the hallway. They could hear doors opening in the distance.

  “The window,” Tobias said.

  They climbed behind the empty desk, and Tobias grabbed the latch on the window. It slid open easily, and the smells and sounds of the courtyard gardens drifted in. Tobias pushed out the screen and leaned over the windowsill. There were trees and some bushes directly below.

  “We have to jump,” he insisted.

  Charlotte was already climbing out the window. She twisted and hung down from the windowsill. She then kicked out and tumbled to the tall hedge, making it look easy.

  “Great,” Tobias said, wishing he was as coordinated as his sister.

  He carefully climbed out and slowly lowered himself until he was hanging from the windowsill. His fingers burned as he struggled to hold on.

  There were voices coming from inside.

  Tobias did his best to push out, but his legs couldn’t kick hard enough, and as he let go, his right arm scratched up against the stone wall. He bounced backward and landed on his bent knees in a bush that was more abrasive than soft. He might have stayed stuck there forever if not for Charlotte. She was right next to him, yanking him out.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Fine,” Tobias said, embarrassed. “Let’s go.”

  They crouched low and moved along a thin dirt trail toward the center of the gardens. The area was dark; waves of light were drifting out from the metal lampposts like sparks from a lazy wand. The light illuminated pockets of trees and created menacing shadows.

  Charlotte gasped.

  “What are those?” she asked nervously.

  Above them in the branches were twelve sets of glowing eyes. The eyes were big and were attached to round bodies the size of basketballs. One set of eyes jiggled as a mouth opened beneath, revealing two rows of jagged teeth.

  Charlotte started to scream, and Tobias covered her mouth with his hand. “Quiet,” he whispered. “Those probably aren’t even real. Remember, they’re trying to trick us. Look how fake they—”

  All at once, the twelve sets of glowing eyes leapt down toward them. Tobias could feel teeth digging into his right shoulder as claws tore through his left arm. He grabbed Charlotte and charged directly through the middle of the trees and across the gardens. He swatted one of the creatures from his head as Charlotte shook one off that was attempting to bite her leg.

  “Hurry!” he yelled.

  As they ran, the gardens seemed to come alive. Screams and wailing like they had never heard before filled their ears. Animals emerged from the foliage and jumped down from the trees above and behind them.

  “Well?” Charlotte yelled.

  “Well, what?” Tobias asked, breathing at least twice as hard as his sister.

  “Don’t try to tell me those aren’t real animals or that they’re just adults dressed up in costumes.”

  “No,” Tobias heaved. “Those are real.”

  “That means whatever chased us last night was probably real too!”

  Tobias jumped into a short tunnel that ran beneath a massive stone. He popped out the other side and kept running alongside Charlotte. They stumbled through a Student Morale Day banner hanging from the side of a lamppost and fell to the ground. Picking themselves up, they continued to run until Tobias could run no more. He slipped behind a horseshoe-shaped boulder and ducked as low as he could. Charlotte crouched next to him as something about the size of an orange landed on Tobias’s head and began to tear at his hair. With one strong nod, he threw his head to the side and smacked the creature against the boulder. The animal bellowed and fell to the ground.

  “Look,” Charlotte whispered. “It’s so little.”

  The creature shook and cried.

  “I think you broke its … wing?”

  “It was tearing at my head,” Tobias whispered back.

  The wounded creature sputtered and rolled on its side. Without thinking, Charlotte reached out and picked it up. The animal was covered in stringy feathers that resembled miniature dreadlocks. It was round and had droopy ears and large bulging eyes perched on top of an olive-sized nose. It opened its mouth and squawked.

  Tobias looked at his sister. “You can’t keep it.”

  “We can’t leave it,” she whispered.

  “I could give you about a hundred reasons why we should, but I know you won’t listen.”

  “Good. Don’t tell me then,” Charlotte said. “We should keep going. I can hear people coming.”

  “I don’t know where to go,” Tobias admitted. “We’re trapped in these gardens.”

  “Well then, let’s find somewhere better to hide.”

  They moved quickly away from the horseshoe-shaped boulder and toward the middle of the gardens. Charlotte held the small creature against her chest. Eyes flashed open around them as they ran, but no animals attacked.

  “Maybe it’s good you kept that thing,” Tobias said. “And could you please run slower? I can’t breathe.”

  Charlotte slowed just a bit.

  In the center of the gardens was a building covered in ivy. Charlotte would have run right into it while weaving through the trees if the animal in her hands hadn’t squawked. She came to a skidding stop and braced herself for Tobias to slam into her. This was unnecessary—Tobias was still a good twenty feet behind and having a hard time. He caught up and attempted to catch his breath.

  “What is that?” he huffed, staring at the ivy-covered structure. “I don’t remember seeing a building in the gardens on the school map.”

  “I think this is what Fiddle was talking about. But that doesn’t matter, because I hear people.”

  The siblings ran around the square building, but the only door they found was locked tight. Sounds of more and more voices and footsteps were around them.

  The speakers announced, “The missing students are in the gardens.”

  Charlotte took her brother’s hand and headed toward East Hall. They wound through bushes and down a narrow dirt path that zigged across the overgrown ground. Tobias tripped, and Charlotte helped him up while still holding the animal. A stone trail led them to one of the main paths heading directly to East Hall. They could see the glass double doors.

  “I have an idea,” Tobias said confidently.

  Searchlights snapped on and began sweeping the garde
ns. A large beam of light brushed past them as they pushed themselves into the bushes.

  Tobias spotted a metal ladder attached to East Hall near the corner of the gardens. From where he was, it looked like the ladder went all the way to the top of the school.

  “Wait, I have a new idea,” Tobias said.

  “Is it better than the first one?”

  “Definitely. Follow me.”

  Tobias and Charlotte stayed beneath the cover of trees as voices and searchlights drifted over the landscape. The animal Charlotte was holding clicked and sniffed in her hands. When the lights were far enough away, they dashed quickly to where the corners of East Hall and Severe Hall met up. It was a difficult run. Twice they had to drop to the ground to hide as people in yellow lab coats passed them.

  “Over there,” Tobias whispered, indicating the ladder. “We’ll climb to the roof. Then we can find a way down or over to the other side, or make a signal fire, or at least hide on the roof.”

  “Good,” Charlotte said.

  They crept slowly through some leafy bushes to where the ladder was attached to the wall. There was a small metal gate around the base of the ladder, and a fat padlock hung from the latch.

  “Here,” Charlotte said, handing Tobias the animal in her hands. “Hold Lars.”

  “Lars?”

  “What? I like that name.”

  Tobias took Lars and placed him in the pocket of his hoodie as his sister jumped and grabbed the top of the metal gate. She pulled herself up and onto the ladder. Turning around, she reached down for Tobias. He took her hand and, with a little help, climbed over the metal gate and onto the ladder below Charlotte.

  “Climb,” he said. “Before we’re spotted.”

  Charlotte ascended the ladder, with Tobias close behind her. They passed the second-story windows, which were dark. A few feet later, Tobias could see into one of the third-story windows. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw a face.

  One of the giant searchlights locked onto both of them, causing them to freeze. They clung to the ladder.

  “Keep going!” Tobias insisted.

  Charlotte would have, but above her, staring from the top of the ladder, were a couple of gruff-looking orderlies. One actually had a net. They glanced down, and Orrin was standing on the ground below with another group of orderlies.

  Tobias tried to see into one of the other third-story windows. There was another face, and he heard someone moaning.

  “Do you see—?”

  Tobias’s question was cut short as Orrin yelled up at them. “Come off that, please!”

  Tobias and Charlotte stared at him.

  “Quickly,” Orrin said. “I don’t like ladders.”

  “You’re not on it,” Tobias hollered down. “We are.” He was exhausted and having a difficult time hanging on.

  “Still, just the thought of it,” Orrin pleaded.

  They could see more people with flashlights gathering below. Some pointed their lights at them on the ladder as others questioned Orrin about what to do next. Tobias looked up at his sister as she looked down at him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  Charlotte was quiet.

  Once more, Orrin begged them to climb down. This time they obeyed. As Tobias descended, he secretly tossed his homemade key into some tall bushes. He wasn’t about to give up any of his secrets.

  The metal gate around the bottom of the ladder had been unlocked, and as soon as Tobias stepped off the lowest rung, someone yanked him away. Another pulled Charlotte off. Lars squawked loudly. An orderly took the small creature from Tobias.

  “Thank goodness you’re down,” Orrin said, relieved, his bald head looking ghostly in the dark. “Death by ladder would be horrible. That said, we’re going to need to take you to visit someone now. Someone who’s great at straightening things out.”

  “Things like us?” Tobias asked, trying to sound tough.

  “Things exactly like you,” Orrin said, smiling. “We’ve given you a beautiful opportunity, and it seems like you’re taking advantage of us. It just breaks my heart when children don’t understand what a wonderful gift they’ve been given.”

  “It breaks our hearts to be kept here,” Charlotte quipped.

  “Well then, I guess we all know how one another feels,” Orrin said nicely. “Let the straightening begin.”

  CHAPTER 13

  ERASING ONE’S MIND

  Late is a sad little word. It can mean so many things, but rarely is it used for good. If you show up late, you’re tardy. If you turn in late, you’re tired. If your work’s late, you may be fired. If you come home late, you’re grounded, and if you’re the late Mr. or Ms. So-and-So, that means you’ve expired, kicked the bucket, gone to bunk with the dirt fairy. You’ve died. Late can affect time as well. It can be growing late, late enough, or if you’re into silly wordplay, late o’clock. I feel, however, that the worst form of late is the dreaded too late. It leaves little room for hope. How can you feel good about anything when you know it’s too late?

  Well, it was too late for Tobias and Charlotte to feel good about anything. As they were pushed through the dark gardens toward the square building, they felt as if it was not only too late, it was too heavy. Their knees buckled under the weight of each step.

  “You’ll be straightened out soon enough,” Orrin repeated, as if it were something they should be happy about.

  For the record, no kid likes hearing those words, and no kid is happy about it when he or she does.

  When they reached the square building, Orrin unlocked the door, and the two orderlies escorting the siblings shoved them through it.

  Inside, yellow light washed the room in shades of autumn. The back wall was a giant mirror. In the center of the room, there was a thick gold ring on the floor that appeared to be a handle to a trapdoor. Aside from two plastic folding chairs, the room was vacant. On the long wall opposite the mirror there were some large backward-printed words. Looking in the mirror, they read

  TIME IS A TRICK OF THE MIND.

  “Stay here,” Orrin said. “Marvin will be with you soon.” He locked the door behind them.

  Alone, Tobias and Charlotte stared at the mirror, barely recognizing the scratched-up, ragged kids they saw staring back at them.

  “Is that really us?” Charlotte asked.

  “I think so.”

  Tobias’s hair was sticking out in numerous directions. His arms were covered in dirt, and his hoodie was ripped in two places. The freckles beneath his blue eyes looked as if they were dripping. Charlotte’s jeans were torn at the ends, and the left sleeve of her green HOPE shirt was shredded.

  “We look awful,” Tobias added.

  Charlotte’s knees gave out, and she fell to the ground crying. Tobias knelt and put his arm around his sister.

  “This is your fault,” she whispered. “You’re the older one. Aren’t you supposed to know better? Now look at us.”

  They both stared in the mirror. It wasn’t pretty.

  “Dad would never have left me here if it weren’t for you.”

  “Be careful what you say,” Tobias said, growing angry.

  “Or what?” Charlotte hollered. “You’ll throw me into a strange school and lock me up?”

  “I can’t—”

  Tobias stopped arguing as the yellow light above them began to dim. The mirrored wall was beginning to glow.

  “Don’t be afraid,” a low, almost hypnotic voice told them.

  The two glanced around, searching for speakers or a person.

  “Who said that?” Tobias asked.

  “Have a seat,” the voice said. “I know how I hate to stand.”

  “We’re not standing,” Tobias pointed out as he knelt next to Charlotte.

  “Quite right,” the voice replied. “But a chair will be much more comfortable.”

  Tobias looked at the two folding chairs and then back at the glowing mirror.

  “Where are we?”

  “As I said, have a seat
.”

  “Where are we?” Tobias asked the air again.

  “Sit,” the voice insisted.

  Tobias stood and walked to the folding chairs. He picked them both up and shuffled back to Charlotte. Without warning, he spun and threw the chairs toward the mirrored wall, screaming, “Ahhhhhhhhh!”

  The two chairs slammed up against the mirror and bounced off, causing no visible damage.

  “Have a seat,” the voice said once more.

  Tobias didn’t want to. He walked over to the trapdoor on the floor and pulled on the gold ring. There was no budge or wiggle.

  “Are you ready to sit?” the voice said.

  Beaten, Tobias retrieved the chairs and set them facing the mirror. He reached down to help Charlotte, but his sister refused the offer. She stood up by herself, and they both sat down dejectedly. Facing the glowing mirror from the sitting position, they could see just how banged up their knees were from all their climbing and running.

  “We’re sitting,” Tobias reported.

  “Perfect,” the voice purred deeply. “Do you know where you are?”

  They both shook their heads.

  “You are in the square room,” the voice informed them. “It’s where I greet visitors. It’s also the second structure that was built on top of the mesa. The first was a small outhouse at the back of the mesa near the spring. It would be awkward to greet visitors there.”

  Charlotte was trying to keep her eyes open. Something about the man’s voice made her head feel heavy and pleasantly foggy.

  “Keep talking,” Charlotte said softly.

  “My pleasure,” the voice replied. “My pleasure.”

  Tobias’s mind began to muddle up as well. “Something’s going on here at Witherwood,” he mumbled.

  “I don’t know what you are speaking of,” the voice said. “Something goes on almost everywhere.”

  “Not something like this,” Tobias said in a daze. “This isn’t a real school, is it? It’s like a secret. I saw some old people in the window. They were—”