Chapter Twenty-One

 

 

Dean lay on his back on his bed in the boys' dorm, his hands clasped behind his head. On the top bunk, he was almost lifted from the general hubbub from his roommates, and from the din oozing in from the hallway and the other rooms on that floor of the building.

 

He focused on a fly clinging to the ceiling. Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad to have been born a fly. And flies, Dean noted, seemed to be happiest when they were face deep in a pile of shit, which was exactly where he figured he was.

 

A heavy step trod on the wooden floor of the dorm, causing boards to creak.

 

"Uh-oh," someone said, signaling a mad dash that got all of them cleaning up their bunks. Paper swished as it was put away, and books made leaden thunks dropping into footlockers in front of the beds.

 

Dean didn't move. There wasn't any way he could get into more trouble.

 

"Boys," Nicholas Brody's deep voice rumbled, "I'd like to pass a few moments with Mr. Cawdor if I may."

 

Dean sat up on the bed, his bare feet dangling over the edge. He'd showered that morning, and his hair was still damp. He wore only the school-designated T-shirt and his underwear.

 

His three roommates moved back to their beds, looking at Brody but trying desperately not to meet the man's glance.

 

"Alone," Brody said.

 

Immediately the three boys jumped up and herded out into the hallway, relief evident in the way they carried themselves.

 

Brody closed the door behind them, then reached into Dean's footlocker and brought out a pair of pants. He tossed them to Dean. "In proper decorum, if you please, Mr. Cawdor." He turned to face the window, hands locked behind his back as he stared out into the courtyard where the flag waved in the breeze from the pole.

 

"Didn't know you were coming," Dean said as he shoved one leg into the trousers, "or I'd have been ready." As much trouble as he was in, not getting dressed as asked would have been the least of his problems. But he had respect for Nicholas Brody.

 

"I really wish you had not ventured up onto that building, Mr. Cawdor," the headmaster said tiredly. "Really, I wish you had not."

 

"What's going to happen to me, sir? For what I did."

 

The headmaster grimaced. "That remains to be seen, lad. I am faced with a most difficult situation. Mr. Ventnor was summarily excused from the rest of his classes this year, over his father's insistent arguments and hostilities. He'll not be returning to this school without due attention in regards to this situation, nor without an official apology to this institution and to Miss Lemon. But that was due in part to his own licentious behavior and how he handled the whole affair, as well as his father's bullheadedness."

 

"Is that what's going to happen to me?" Dean felt his stomach lurch. He didn't realize how much he was going to miss the school, or how much the idea that he could get kicked out sickened him.

 

"I find myself in quite a quandary in regards to you." Brody's gaze was bright, direct. "You lied to me by omission, telling me you knew not what led you to stray to that building this morning. Surely the response of an irresponsible and churlish boy. Yet you stepped forward when Miss Lemon's integrity was in danger of becoming forfeit. An act of a young gentleman who knows there must be a recompense for actions foolishly taken, as well as the primacy of innocence being protected and a sense of fair play. Neither Mr. Ventnor nor his progenitor handled the situation with even a fraction of the courage you exhibited."

 

"Will I be allowed to stay?"

 

Brody shook his head. "I don't know, lad. I'll have to think on it. Punishment in these regards must be strictly adhered to, else the student body at this institution will run amok and even more stringent measures will need be applied to bring them into line once more. I set those standards, and I don't mean to see them broken."

 

"Yes, sir." Dean wished he could break eye contact, but found he couldn't.

 

"Keep your chin up, Mr. Cawdor. However it turns out, you've kept at least a portion of my respect today. A most important portion, I might add. And maybe earned self-respect in your own eyes that you will see once we are days past this present encumbrance. I shall try to get word to your father by the means I have open to me, and we shall see what must be done. Until then, you'll be confined to your quarters."

 

"Yes, sir."

 

Brody left.

 

As soon as the door closed, Dean tossed himself back onto his bed. He felt like crying, something he hadn't allowed himself to do in a long time. At the same time he felt like kicking down the walls of his room. Instead, he lay on his back and threw a forearm across his eyes to block out his vision.

 

"Cawdor."

 

For a moment Dean was unsure if he'd actually heard the voice or if it was his imagination.

 

"Dean Cawdor."

 

Dean unwrapped his arm from his eyes. He craned his head around and looked at the doorway.

 

Ethan Perry, tall and muscled, a blue-black undercoating of beard and mustache still showing through fresh-shaved chin, stood looking in at him.

 

"What do you want?" Dean asked.

 

Perry smiled. He had the easy confidence of the natural athlete. Some few months short of eighteen, Perry was the most gifted of those in the phys-ed class at the school. Whenever a game was playedfootball, baseball or dodge balleveryone wanted to be on Perry's side.

 

"Heard about what happened this morning," Perry said. "I know Ventnor's too gutless to do something like that, so I figure it was you who put together the raid on the girls' dorm. Pretty clever."

 

Dean just looked at the other boy, hardly breathing. He and Perry had shared some differences out on the playing field. Perry had a group of ten boys that he ran roughshod over. They were the best the school had to offer when it came to sports. They ate together, slept in the same dorms and did their studying together. When one of them scored low on a test, the others pitched in to help him study harder so the group remained unbroken. No other team the school fielded was ever able to defeat Perry's team.

 

The reason Perry didn't like Dean was that in individual effort, Dean bested several if not all of the ten boys. Sometimes that included Perry himself.

 

Perry leaned against the door and stuck a toothpick in his mouth. The other boys who belonged in the room stayed out in the hallway. "Me and my buddies are doing some exercises tonight with Mr. Solomon. Thought mebbe you'd like to join us."

 

Solomon was the new phys-ed teacher. At least, he was new by the school's standards. Payton Solomon had only been with Nicholas Brody's staff for the past seventeen months. During that time, the phys-ed teacher had helped mold Perry's group into the unit it was.

 

"Why me?" Dean asked.

 

Perry shrugged. "Mr. Solomon thought it might be a good idea. Me, I don't think we need you, but he was pretty insistent. Conover busted a rib this morning during one of our martial-arts sessions, and Mr. Solomon wanted you to fill in tonight."

 

"Doing what?"

 

Perry shrugged again. "Does it matter?"

 

Dean was silent. Really it didn't. It was a chance to get out and do something. "Does Mr. Solomon know I've been told to stay in my quarters?"

 

"Probably." Perry made a show of looking around. "Doesn't appear to be anybody gonna make sure that's what you do. So I guess whether you stay or go is mostly up to you."

 

A well of resentment opened up in Dean. He'd been more or less abandoned at the school by his dad, even after he'd voiced an objection to coming there. He'd minded most of the bigger rules, his mostly minor infractions more inconsiderate than rebellious. It wasn't until he'd gone to see Phaedra Lemon that things seemed to come apart.

 

And Phaedra hadn't appeared all that angry about his coming to see her.

 

So he couldn't understand how Brody had a real bone to pick with him.

 

"If I get caught, will Mr. Solomon talk to Mr. Brody for me?" Dean asked.

 

"Fuck that," Perry said. "None of us are gonna get caught." He smiled. "We'll even teach you to be more sly than you were this morning."

 

Listening to the other boy made Dean feel better. Maybe something good had come out of getting caught sneaking around after all. Of all the student body, Perry and his group seemed to be the most like Dean. They were fierce, hard, rough and feared throughout the school. They weren't pampered kids at all.

 

Used to being a loner, Dean hadn't tried overly hard to take up with the group. But he wouldn't have objected to an offer of friendship or interest on their behalf. Mr. Solomon had never before tried to pair any of Perry's group with him.

 

"So what's it gonna be?" Perry asked. "If you don't want to do it, I gotta ask somebody else."

 

"What time am I supposed to be there?" Dean asked.

 

Perry smiled. "I'll come get you when it's time. Mr. Solomon said it'd be after dark, and to try to sleep this afternoon if you could because we're gonna be out most all night."

 

"Okay," Dean said.

 

Perry left without another word.

 

Dean lay back on the bed, excited and scared at the same time, and wondering what Mr. Solomon had in mind. Skulking around in the dark, though, sounded good to him no matter what the excuse. He closed his eyes and, after a time, slept.