<<<<Chapter 3>>>>>
Dale dipped the frayed brush into the bucket full of water, pulling it out by the slender handle. He carefully brushed the days food off of his mouth while looking into the distorted image of the mirror. Boys throughout the room were preparing for sleep and dressing into their undergarments. Landon, who also slept in the room, was reading a leather book.
Glancing over to his side, Dale could see Nash stuffing rags in the bottom of the splintered window sill, keeping the creeping fingers of the cold out.
“Its sure getting chilly these days.” Nash muttered.
“I hate fall.” said Kallin lying on his bed, looking up at the ceiling, “Everything rots and the leaves turn ugly. Me uncle, when ee was alive, used to tell me stories about forests covered with golden leaves and bright red maples. I think ee was lying. All I see out there are beautiful trees wasting away by the cruel frost.”
“It makes the spring all the more beautiful, doesn't it?” Dale replied.
“Aye but the winter isn’t worth the wait. If I could ‘ave it my way I would live in the summer all year long, never seeing winter, or spring, or autumn again.” He added with emphasis on the word autumn.
Kallin glanced at the floor noticing the tabby cat rubbing itself on his leg. The cat purred in a type of lullaby which calmed the room. It was a time for contemplation.
Dale slumped his tired body on the bottom bunk of the bed. Burying himself deep in the covers he felt a childlike security which no words could explain. The cold world felt blocked out from view. The warming blankets were like a fortress from which Dale was safe. Nothing could reach him past the walls of fabric and cotton.
Nash popped his head from the upper bunk bed looking down at Dale below.
“Dale.” He whispered loudly, “Dale wake up!”
“I haven't been in bed for a minute, how could I be asleep?” Dale said annoyed.
“Landons making us go to bed earlier than usual. I think somethings bothering him.”
Caretaker Landon looked up for a moment after hearing, then continued reading, ignoring the comment.
“Nash, don’t speak like that.” Dale mumbled.
Landon muttered something inaudible and flipped the page. Both Dale and Nash noticed his perturbed expression and changed the subject at once.
“What the headmaster was saying about the ghettos, it must have been hard for you to hear.”
“Not really.” lied Nash.
Nash felt his scar. It was a large gash, at least four inches across his arm. It was a constant reminder of Bledsworths presence. Dale never asked how he obtained it. Nash seemed to shrivel at the very name of Bledsworth during a conversation.
“Besides Dale, the past is the past.”
“Not always.” muttered Dale.
“What do you mean?”
“Sometimes the past comes back to haunt us, or it define us. My past made me who I am. I would be nothing without it. I’ll never be free of my memories.” Dale said staring at the cat.
The tabby was now begging in front of Kip, the youngest of the orphans, who tried to ignore her loud meows and eager gestures.
“I think you’re wrong, the past only haunts us when we chose to not forgive.” Nash finally spoke after a moment of thinking.
“Can you forgive the past? It does more wrong than good. It leaves us feeling empty and broken. No, I can’t forgive the past, not now.... not ever.”
“I can. Its treated me too well for me to hold a grudge.”
“Nash, you know thats a complete lie. You have had every possible wrong done to you. How can you say that you have been treated right? Look at where you are for goodness sakes. We're in an orphanage!”
Nash grew quiet, his eyes looked to the floor and a slight melancholy struck his face.
“I’m sorry Nash. I don’t mean to talk like that, I’m just frustrated, thats all.”
“Its fine.” He said quietly.
Nash popped his head back into the upper bunk. Leaping from the bed, he landed on his nimble feet. He pulled the cabinet door open. Dale watched as he opened a tiny box of belongings and sorted through the miscellaneous objects. He pulled out a round object covered with delicate cloth. Nash walked back to the bed as if holding a trophy and unwounded the brown fabric. Dales eyes widened as Nash pulled out a a shiny device. It was a pocket watch. On the cover was an ornate design of a flower. The leaves were etched into the gold and silver plating and the flower petals were made of an orange colored metal.
“Nash, where did you get that?” Dale said studying the intricate pattern of silver and gold.
“My dad gave it to me.” Nash replied “The day before he left the bay for good, he told me that one day I would give it to someone who needed and then they would pass it on, and so forth.”
“Its very beautiful.”
“I know. Its one of my most precious belongings.” He looked around the room nervously “Don’t let anyone else know about it.”
“Nash I’m sure that everyone in the room can hear you.”
“Dale is right, everyone can hear you Nash.” Landon said turning a page.
It didn’t matter anyhow, Nash, caretaker Judy, and the Headmaster were the only ones there who cared about money.
Landon blew out his candle and the room was engulfed in darkness. It took Dale a minute to grow accustomed to the moonlight. The watch reflected the moonlight projecting thousands of dots onto the ceiling.
“Dale, they look like stars!” Nash said full of aw.
“Yeah, I guess they do.” Dale said bittersweetly, knowing he could never be among the shining giants.
The other orphans were fascinated by the spectacular array of lights. Even Landon appreciated the change in scenery. The entire room of boys were content watching the spectacle almost expecting to see a shooting star. The ceiling opened into a galaxy in Dales mind. He saw distant stars shining through the canvas of the sky. They danced and spun, mixing stardust among the multiverse. It was cold and dark in the black. His bed was the only thing protecting him from the darkness.
After a few more minutes of watching, Nash put the watch away and climbed back into his very own fortress of fabric. The sound of Landons heavy breathing let them know he was sleeping and that they could talk more freely.
“I had a dream last night, Nash.”
“Oh really.” He replied quietly
“I dreamt I was flying. There was lighting and thunder around me. I was free. Then I started to fall, I couldn’t stop myself. I fell all the way back down to the ground.” Dale said with a pained expression in his voice.
Nash didn’t respond for a moment.
“What do you think it means?” Nash finally asked.
“I’m not sure I want to know, but I think it has to do with the orphanage. I feel like were trapped here.”
“Thats not true Dale. You and I both know that we’re going to be adopted soon. Just think of it, we’ll have new families and new lives.” Nash had hope in his voice, the kind of hope a child has when he has his first premonition.
“Nash we’re the oldest orphans here. I’m fifteen and your fourteen. It doesn’t matter how many times a visitor comes in, you and I are too old to be adopted. I overheard the headmaster talking to Caretaker Judy, they were saying that there are too many mouths to feed. The gardens far too small and there are only more orphans coming in. Lets face it, we only have months before we have to leave.”
“So what do you suppose we do?” Nash said bewildered by his friends comments.
“I’m not sure.”
Nash pondered Dales words. An idea popped into his head which was new and exciting, he liked it. So many times he had only thought of little adventures. This was different. Above all, it was risky. That risk is what made Nash interested.
“I’ve got an idea,” Nash said almost inaudibly. “We could have the greatest adventure of all time. You and I could run away.”
Dale didn't reply, there was something fateful in those words. That solution made sense to him, but said out-loud the words seemed wrong and sinful. His subconscious had been hungering to leave for a long time but now plain and in the open, he was beginning to have second thoughts.
“Where would we go?”
“Who cares? The world has been waiting for a while for people like us, now its our time to do something amazing.”
Dale head was filled with doubt and passion. Was this what was best for him? How would they survive? What about the others at the orphanage? He thought of the caretakers, and of the headmaster, and the children that look up to him.
“No,” he finally said. “At least not now, something doesn’t seem right.”
“Well, at least think about it.”
“Whatever happens, well be in it together.” Dale responded.