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The Outcasts
By Cole Parker
Hammil Academy Berkshire, England 1970
Part 2
8
It was in the library two nights later that Liam thought he might try again to learn why Wim had separated himself from everyone else. He knew he had to do it very non-threateningly.
“Wim?”
Wim looked up at him. “Yes?”
“It makes you uncomfortable to talk about yourself, doesn’t it?”
Wim almost grinned. “You figured that out, huh?”
Liam did smile at that. “Yeah. Actually, I’m pretty bright. I’m trying to find a way so you can talk to me about yourself. I think it will help you if you can do it. That’s part of being friends, you know, talking to each other about everything you can’t talk to other people about, and helping each other when they need it. You want to be that kind of friends, don’t you?”
”I don’t know. I think so. I feel so different than I did before the bridge. I haven’t had a friend in a long time. I didn’t want any. Then, at the bridge, I had all these feelings I didn’t understand, and since then. . . .” Wim paused for a moment, obviously not saying everything he was thinking. When he did finally speak again, it was only to say, “Yes, I want to be friends.”
Liam didn’t respond, just looked at him, trying to let Wim see his disappointment. Wim did see it, and felt he had to say more. “I told you on the bridge, I don’t understand what I’m feeling. Any of it. I’m still trying to understand my feelings when I saw you climb up on the bridge railing. It was the strongest feeling I can ever remember having. I knew I couldn’t let you jump. Somehow, I was feeling closer to you right then than I can ever remember feeling about anyone. And I don’t know why. But that feeling, it wasn’t a bad feeling. I kind of liked it, feeling that closeness to you. I can remember that it felt good. It still does feel good to be with you. Yes, I think I want to be really good friends.”
“I want that very badly, Wim. No one else will talk to me, and I need a friend probably more than you do. So thank you, Wim, thank you for letting me be your friend. I hope you don’t change your mind. When other boys see us talking, they’re going to decide you’re gay, too. I mean boys other than just Clive Hogsford. They’ll say things to you that will hurt.”
“I’ll ignore them, just like always. I have for a long time. Their words won’t mean anything to me.”
“And you don’t want to tell me why you ignored them, why you’re that way, do you?”
“I guess I don’t. I’m sorry, Liam. I’m not ready yet. Maybe someday.”
“But it really won’t bother you if people say you’re gay? Most boys would hate that.”
“I don’t think it will bother me. I’ve learned to not pay much attention to anyone else. If what they say is mean, intended to hurt me, I’ll simply ignore it like I’ve been ignoring everything they say to me.”
“And when I looked at you across the dining hall that day, you ignored me, too, but now you don’t. Why?”
“It isn’t because I’m gay, is it? I mean, I am gay. I shouldn’t ask, it’s rude of me, and you can ignore me if you want, but, are you gay too? Does that have anything to do with you wanting to be friends?”
“I haven’t even thought about that. I don’t know. I’m not attracted to boys, or girls. I’m not attracted to anyone.”
“So what do you think about when you, well, you know?”
“When I what?”
“Wim! You must know what I’m talking about!”
Wim frowned at him. “No, I don’t. What is it?”
“When you wank. Gay boys think about hot boys when they wank. Boys they’re attracted to. Straight boys think about girls. Who do you think about when you do that?”
Wim didn’t even blush. He merely said, “I don’t do that.”
Liam’s eyebrows rose and his eyes widened. “Really? You’re 14 years old and you don’t wank? I always thought all boys did. That’s what we learned in our sex education lessons. You don’t? You never have?”
Wim started looking upset. “I don’t think I can talk about this any more, Liam. I don’t do that. And I don’t want to talk about it any more.”
“Okay. I’m sorry. I’m just getting to know you. Please have patience with me as I learn what we can talk about safely and what we can’t.”
“I’ll try. Some things upset me, they just do. I’m sorry. I’ve learned to simply not think about them.”
“Maybe someday we’ll find a way that you can think about them, and we’ll be able to talk about them and maybe then it won’t bother you to think about anything you want. Anyway, we need to be reading.”
9
Wim was watching a house football match, attendance required, a few days later. Afterwards, he headed towards his house, some distance away across the grounds. As usual, he was walking by himself. And then, suddenly, he wasn’t. He looked up from the grass he’d been contemplating and found Clive Hogsford on one side and the other two boys there too, one on his other side, one behind him. His heart begin to race.
“Guess they were right about you, nancy-boy. You are stupid. I told you not to get friendly with Blake. You said you wouldn’t. You did anyway. So you did what I told you not to do, and you lied to me when you said you’d stay away from him. What are we going to do about that?”
Wim looked around. There were other boys, but no one particularly close, and no one looking at the four of them. He thought he could probably yell for help, but it would sound silly as after all, these boys were simply walking with him. If people turned to look when he yelled, what would they see?
He kept walking, and the other three stayed close to him.
“Hey, I asked you a question. What are we going to do about this? What’s you answer, fairy?”
Still Wim didn’t reply. He was pulling back into his shell, the one that had been his residence for so long until Liam had managed to crack it open a bit.
“Okay, if you’re too scared to answer, I’ll tell you. This is what’s going to happen. You’re going to get knocked around, and every day I see you sitting at tea with that homo, you’re going to get it again. We’ll just see how long it takes for you to learn.”
Clive took a quick glance around, then nodded at his friends. They moved closer, screening Wim somewhat with their bulk. Then Clive hit Wim in the stomach, dropping him to his knees. Clive then hit him hard in the shoulder, knocking him over so he lay awkwardly on his back.
“No one saw anything, creep, and if you say anything, it’s your word against ours, and then you’ll really get it. Now stay away from the homo, or you get more.”
The three boys walked off. No one seemed to notice Wim lying on the ground. No one came to help him. He didn’t know if that was because of who he was, or because people had seen who did this to him and didn’t want to get involved in anything involving Clive Hogsford.
When he’d recovered his breath, he rose to his feet and made his way shakily back to his house. He needed to lie down before tea.
10
At tea, Wim was quieter than usual. Liam sensed this immediately and tried his hardest to get Wim to say what was troubling him. Wim wasn’t a brave boy and being resolute in the face of what had happened just wasn’t in him. It didn’t take long before he surrendered to Liam’s questions. He told him what had happened.
Liam was livid. He had withstood Hogsford’s campaign of hatred and abuse because he was one against many, Hogsford was much bigger and tougher than he was, and the other boys in the school seemed to stand with the bully. It appeared there wasn’t much he could do. Now, though, a smaller and defenceless boy had been attacked simply for being nice to him. Liam’s resentment, which had grown as his depression had abated, came full stops. He looked up from his tea and saw Hogsford and his mates looking over at him and Wim.
Liam stood up and walked toward their table. He was so angry he could only focus on Hogsford. His peripheral vision was gone, his hearing was gone, his entire focus was on Hogsford, mayhem in his heart. Hogsford saw him approach, and with a gleeful smile, stood up. He had anticipation in his eyes, and his fists were clenched.
“Hey, the homo boy looks like he’s grown some bollocks. Looks like I’ll get the chance to kick them up inside of him.”
He didn’t get more than that said before Liam was there. He walked up to him and took a swing at him. Hogsford pulled his face back and Liam’s fist passed by. Then Hogsford pushed him, hard, and Liam stumbled backwards, falling to the floor. As he leapt back to his feet, the entire room was on their feet, moving closer to get a better view, ringing the combatants. There were no masters here as they had their tea in a separate room. The prefects didn’t seem eager to step into the fray.
Liam was back up with his fists up and ready. Hogsford leered at the smaller boy and egged him on. Liam needed no encouragement. He was not thinking at all. He was just out for blood. Hogsford’s blood.
He strode forward and as Hogsford pulled back his fist to hit him, Liam drove into him in a perfect rugger tackle, hitting him in the midsection with his shoulder. Hogsford stumbled backward and tripped on a chair. He fell to the floor with Liam on top of him. Liam start to punch, but Hogsford was much bigger and an experienced fighter. He quickly rolled Liam off him, and then he was on top and Liam was on the bottom, his face almost purple with rage and struggling mightily. Hogsford was much heavier, and for all his fury, Liam’s struggles accomplished nothing.
“Okay homo, here it comes, just what I’ve been waiting for. You started this, and I can do anything I want now. It’s all self-defence. I’m going to beat you till you’re nothing but blood and gore.”
Hogsford swung his fist into the side of Liam’s face, stunning the smaller boy. He drew back his fist back to strike again, but that was all he did. At that point, a scream was heard, and then Wim was on Hogsford’s back. Little Wim, inches shorter and stones lighter than Hogsford, the smallest boy in his form and perhaps the meekest, was on Hogsford’s back, screaming wordless noises and scratching, clawing, biting, hitting, doing anything and everything he could to hurt the bigger boy. Wim had gone berserk.
Hogsford tried to reach him but Wim was attached to his back, one hand gouging into his neck, another yanking at his hair. Then that hand dug into the side of his face, his fingernails digging into his flash. All the time screaming incomprehensibly.
“Hey, get him off me. Dammit, get him off me.” Hogsford was swinging his arms useless trying to reach Wim. Then he shrieked as one of Wim’s fingers reached his eye. He stood up and shook himself fiercely and Wim flew off and into the crowd of onlookers.
Hogsford was bleeding from the side of his face, a couple tuffs of hair lay on the ground and his eye was rapidly swelling shut. He stood, looking bewildered.
“Let me go,” Wim bellowed to the boys who had caught him and were now holding him. They released him, and he immediately ran back into the circle, but not to Hogsford. He ignored him and ran to Liam, who was by now sitting up. He still seemed a bit dazed by the blow to the side of his face, but Wim helped him stand. They both then looked around at the boys encircling them, then at Hogsford, who still stood, uncomprehending, blood dripping from the gouges in his face.
Wim put an arm around Liam’s back and let him back to his table. The circle opened for them. When they reached the table, Liam sat back down in his chair.
At that point, three of the masters entered the room, having been summoned from their tea by one of the prefects. They spoke to two of the other prefects who’d been in attendance, and after a bit, one of the masters headed for Liam’s table and the other two toward Hogsford.
Wim was talking in a soft voice to Liam, who by now seemed to have recovered his wits. His head was still buzzing, the side of his face was alternating between numbness and pain, but his thoughts were no longer scrambled. His anger was gone.
The master arrived, he and the two boys spoke briefly, and then they were up and accompanying the man to the headmaster’s house.
11
The headmaster, Dr. Foster-Evans, was a tall, gaunt man of indeterminate age. The perpetually stern expression on his naturally bony face and the dour demeanor he projected when confronting troublesome boys had caused a trembling in the knees of the hundreds of those who’d faced him in his chambers. His reputation was that of a tyrant, a particularly humourless misanthrope who enjoyed nothing more than sacking pitiable young boys and sending them packing on the flightiest of suspicions before enjoying his afternoon tea. His balding head and skeletal build could have been the cause of jokes and caricatures in a less intimidating man. Neither aspect of the man was referred to by the boys in his school. This was the measure of the man and the instinctive reaction to him by his charges.
As so frequently is the case, the reputation belied the man. Dr. Foster-Evans was in reality a caring man and an enlightened professional educator. His position of authority required a certain gravitas, and the adoption of a strict and no-nonsense demeanor was de rigueur for the course, but it was reluctantly he wore both mantles. He did expel some boys when such was the only choice available, but it was always with a feeling his school and indeed he himself had failed them if the need for such a drastic action was acute, that he hadn’t done enough in advance to forestall the expulsion. But this form of discipline was rarely necessary. He was much more likely to find other, more creative and less final punitive means to reach the odd miscreants who came before him and steer their new behavior in more appropriate directions.
Today he was faced with adjudicating a fight in the dining room. Fighting was not permitted at his school, and harsh reprisals were specified in the school procedures manual. It was policy that, should two students come to blows, both combatants be expelled. Dr. Foster-Evans was not a proponent of zero tolerance rules or predetermined sentencing. He did not like his hands tied by rules that allowed for no discretion. He had usually found that if there were a fight, there was a history involved and underlying reasons that led up to it, and that normally one participant was more eager to promulgate it than the other. It was almost always more the fault of one boy than the other, and he had in the past dealt with the situation accordingly. Life was not fair, especially in a boys’ school, but that didn’t stop Dr. Forster-Evans from doing his utmost to approach that end.
There was a quiet tap on his study door, and then his wife opened it and told him three boys, Blake, Tanner and Hogsford, and three masters were waiting for him. He asked her to usher them in.
Blake and Tanner were the first to enter, accompanied by the master who had spoken to them in the dining room. They were followed by a second master, then Hogsford, with the third master bringing up the rear.
The headmaster asked them to draw up chairs, and they did that, assembling six chairs in a semi-circle facing his desk. Then all seven sat.
The headmaster, very much in his authoritarian mode, looked at each boy for a few minutes. Only Hogsford was able to meet his gaze without withdrawing his eyes. In Hogsford’s eyes glinted the light of one who feels his actions were those of the just, and the heartfelt knowledge that what would ensue would for him be exculpation. His expression reflected this thought, too. After all, he’d been attacked, first by one boy he’d defended himself from, then a second boy from behind. He had done nothing wrong. Vindication was surely to be his.
The headmaster noted all three boys’ expressions. Then, as Hogsford looked so eager to give his story and the other two boys looked like they’d rather be anywhere other than here, he asked that boy to tell him what had happened.
“I was sitting, having tea with my chums, and I looked up, and here was Blake coming for me. I could tell by the look on his face he wasn’t coming to ask me the time of day. I stood up, and he swung at me, then charged me and fell on top of me. I’d just managed to get him off me when Tanner jumped on me from behind and started clawing at me. You see these scratches on my face. He did that. I shook him off, and that was the end of it.”
Hogsford finished, looking smug. The headmaster kept him in his gaze for a several seconds, then asked, “And that is entirely what happened? According to that account, you did nothing. A boy swung at you, knocked you down, and your only response was to roll him off of you. Another boy attacked, and you shook him off. That was it, then? You didn’t do anything else?”
Hogsford was not deterred. “I don’t remember anything else. It was something of a brawl and all, and over quickly, but that’s how I remember it.”
Again the headmaster simply stared at him for a few moments, then asked him to stand. Hogsford did so.
“Now, Blake, Tanner, would you two stand as well, please?”
Both boys rose, hesitantly. Dr. Foster-Evans looked at the two boys, then at the one. Clive Hogsford was substantially larger that either, and in fact overmatched them even with their weights combined.
The headmaster asked them all to again take their chairs, then spoke again to the largest boy. “Hogsford, it is quite obvious that neither of these boys is of your stature. Yet they both attacked you. It would seem a silly sort of endeavor, that, taking in your size and then theirs. That leads one to ask, why would either or both these boys do that? I am missing that point, I believe. Can you assist me here? They would certainly not undertake such an action without some motivation, and it is very unlikely you would be unaware of what that was. I will ask these boys the same question, so it would serve you well if you would give me a full and honest answer, even should it not show you in the most favorable of lights.”
Hogsford hadn’t expected this. This was a bit hard. He felt he was on safe ground about the fight itself. About the events leading to the fight he felt less secure. Still, he felt he was on the moral high ground, and had nothing of which to be ashamed.
“This Blake is a homo and no one wants him here, sir. He’s a disgrace to the school, and quite a few of us have let him know that. We all feel that way. Now he’s messing around with this little one, God only knows what they do together but it’s disgusting to think about. I don’t know why the poof came at me today, but maybe his friend decided not to be his friend any more and Blake blamed that on me, sir. I don’t really know the reason he attacked me. He would know the answer to that, sir.”
The headmaster looked at the two smaller boys without saying anything as the silence in the room stretched out after Hogsford had stopped talking. Then he looked at the three masters and asked them to take Hogsford into the hall and stay with him while he interviewed the other two.
When they were alone, and both Blake and Tanner were feeling even more nervous, the headmaster studied both boys for a moment, then asked Blake if he’d tell him his side of the story.
Liam gulped. He couldn’t see any way this was going to end happily for him. If he gave his reasons for attacking Hogsford, that he was a homosexual who had been bullied and preyed upon by Hogsford for weeks on end, and that Hogsford had attacked Wim for being his friend and his own anger had got the better of him because of that, he was pretty sure he’d be expelled before he even finished talking. Homosexuality was in and of itself reason for dismissal at most public schools. If he didn’t tell him this factor, what reason could he suggest that would explain Hogsford’s actions? If he merely said it was schoolboy antagonism between them, or some petty incident, then he would be expelled for starting a fight. Nothing he could say could save him, he saw that only too clearly.
The headmaster watched Blake. He saw the swallow, then the slumping of his shoulders and the paling of the face. He saw a defeated boy in front of him. Still, he didn’t change expression. He waited for what was to come, his face a stony.
It surprised them both, then, when Tanner was the one to speak. “Please, sir, may I speak?”
“Why, certainly. You are William Tanner, I believe?”
“Yes sir.”
“You are the one who keeps to himself, I believe?”
“Yes sir. Till very recently, sir.”
“All right, then, Tanner. What do you have to say?”
“Sir, Liam, uh, I mean Blake, acted in anger today, but it was for me he did it. Uh, that is, he did it for me. Hogsford and two of his friends attacked me after games today. They have been telling me to stay away from Blake. I didn’t do that and they got mad at me. They punched me. When Blake got me to tell him that, he got angry. That’s what caused this. Please, sir, it would be unfair to punish Blake for this. Hogsford had been bullying him for weeks. What happened today was because of what's been happening. Please sir, don't make Blake suffer even more than he already has.”
“And you, Tanner? You attacked Mr. Hogsford as well. Was that justified, too?”
“Why you? If I may say so, you’re not of a size to be entering into a fray with someone the size of Hogsford.”
“No one else was stopping him, sir. And Liam, uh, Blake, is my friend, and I feel a sort of a protective interest in him. Hogsford is too big to be hitting him, and I had to jump in.”
The headmaster’s eyes opened a bit wider at that. He looked at Tanner, then at Blake, then back again.
After a pause, he said, “Boys, I think I have to ask you something here. I’m not good at beating around the bush, so I’ll simply ask it. Hogsford said you, Blake, are homosexual. Now Tanner is suggesting his relationship with you is something more than just as a school friend. Before you answer the question I’m about to ask, I have to tell you something. While I am the headmaster of this school, the fact a boy is homosexual will never be the basis of any official censure. What is not acceptable is homosexual behavior. Just as it is inappropriate at coeducational schools for boys and girls to engage in sexual activities, it is inappropriate for boys to do the same thing here. But the nature of anyone’s sexuality is not an issue. One is what one is, and you might as well punish a Turk for being Turkish as a homosexual for simply being that. So now, after that bit of philosophizing, let me state my question. That said, I can now ask, are you two boys as Hogsford suggests? Homosexuals?”
Liam looked at Wim for a moment, then back to the headmaster. It didn’t make any difference now whether he could believe what the man had just said or not. The truth was the only answer he could give that would make any sense.
“I am, sir. It’s the reason I’ve been having such a bad go of it lately. The boys here found out, and they’ve been giving me a bad time. Actually, it’s mostly Hogsford who’s been doing so, but he commands a certain amount of fear with the other boys, and so no one has been willing to side with me. Accept for Tanner. Without him—well, I’d prefer not to talk about that, sir. But, to answer your question, sir, yes, I am, but Tanner isn’t. He’s simply my friend. Although that word doesn’t do justice to the feelings I have for him and what he’s meant to me.”
The headmaster looked at Wim, who knew what he wanted.
“I don’t know if I’m homosexual, sir, I, I, I really don’t know. I do know I have strong feelings toward Liam. They’ve been growing. What they may become, I don’t know. But I don’t seem to have any sort of sexual feelings for him. For him or anyone else.”
“You’re 14, are you?”
“Just, sir.”
“All right, we’ll leave that. I think I’m getting the picture here. You, Blake, have been going through a rough patch. You have been tolerating Hogsford’s attentions, but when you learned he had attacked Tanner because Tanner was being loyal to you, your bile flared. You, Tanner, on seeing Blake was about to be severely beaten by a larger boy and no one was stepping in to stop it, took it upon yourself to prevent further injury. So you, Blake, fought for Tanner, and you, Tanner, fought for Blake. Does that about sum up the affair?”
Liam wasn’t sure what he was feeling, but amazement was part of it. The headmaster seemed to have merely accepted his homosexuality and moved on. Could that really be? He had been sure if that fact were found out, he’d be expelled. Had he been wrong about that? He found himself looking at the man through newly opened eyes. And wondering if he could believe what he was seeing.
Wim was looking at Liam, and when he didn’t answer
the headmaster’s question, Wim did. “Yes, sir, that’s very much what happened.
Please sir, I know we’re not supposed to fight, but Liam wasn’t thinking
straight, and I had to help him. I had to.”
Liam could answer that quite easily. “Yes sir. More than you could know. I was feeling pretty desperate. Then Wim was there for me, and my whole life changed. He’s has been my salvation, sir.”
“And you, Tanner?”
“Oh yes, sir. I would have flunked for sure, and I had no friends, and things were getting worse and worse, somehow. For some reason I can’t even say, Liam’s been able to get through the wall I’d built up, and it’s like a dark cloud’s been lifted. You won’t expel him, will you sir? He did what he did for me. If someone has to be expelled, make it me, sir. I don’t think I could stay without him anyway. I wouldn’t want to.”
The headmaster didn’t respond directly. He started at Tanner for a moment, then swiveled in his chair so he was facing his desk. He didn’t look directly at, but felt, without looking, the picture sitting to the side of the workspace. It was a framed picture that was on prominent display there, a picture of a 14-year-old boy, a beautiful boy, his Eric. He was always felt a jolt of sadness when he looked at the picture. Unable to restrain himself, his eyes fell to the picture now, and that jolt occurred.
Eventually he turned back to the boys. “Neither of you is to be expelled. I was thinking of something else when I asked about you two helping each other. I was wondering if you two would like to change houses and be put together. Mr. Fitzsimmons has space, he’s a good man, he feels much the same as I do about most things, including the things we were talking of here today, and you two might be comfortable rooming in his house. What do you think?”
12
After two relieved, happy and excited boys had left the headmaster’s house, Hogsford was summoned back into the man’s study.
“Sit down, Hogsford. I have heard what really has been going on. You didn’t tell me what you’ve been doing to Blake. You didn’t tell me of the assault on Tanner. You didn’t give me a very full account of your actions, did you now, Hogsford?”
Hogsford paled. But he wasn’t the timid sort, and he knew he had right on his side. “I’ve done nothing, sir. I was attacked and defended myself. If they said otherwise, there are witnesses to what happened. As for an assault on Tanner, I didn’t do anything of the sort, sir. Does he have proof of that, sir? It may be his word against mine, and I have friends who will back me. Blake will say anything, you can’t trust his kind sir. I’m sure you’ll expel him for attacking me, and for being a queer, and good riddance, I say. We don’t want his kind here, sir.”
“His kind, Hogsford?”
“These friends that will back you. How can they back your claim that you didn’t assault Tanner? That would mean they must have been with you when you didn’t attack him. But when would that have been? Please clear this up for me, Hogsford. I’m a bit in the dark how they can back you on something that didn’t happen.”
Hogsford paused, but this was too complicated for him to figure out with the steely gaze of the headmaster affecting his thinking. Without being able to do anything more than call on his usual bluster, he said, “He was attacked after games, sir, and I was with my friends then. They’ll tell you, I had nothing to do with it. He’s a homosexual, too. Both he and Blake.”
“And does that give you the right to take matters into your own hands, Hogsford? Do you feel it your obligation or responsibility to personally assist us in removing homosexuals from out school? In battering them? Why do you think this is your concern, or in fact that doing this is in any way acceptable behaviour?”
Hogsford's confidence had been high when he had entered the study. Now, looking at the stern and unforgiving expression on the headmaster's face, he realized that what he had done might not be considered proper, and there may be a price to pay for it. He tried quickly to think of a defensive stratagem that would work in his behalf, but the look on the headmaster's face was preventing much useful thinking at all. The only thing he could think of that might save him was adamant denial that he had taken part in any of the things he'd been accused of.
Drawing himself into a more erect posture, making his voice as strong as he could, Hogsford stated, "Sir, I didn't assault Tanner, and I was attacked in the dining hall and was only defending myself. I've done nothing wrong, sir."
The headmaster's glower did nothing to restore Hogsford's confidence. Neither did his ensuing words.
"I don't recall telling you that Tanner had been assaulted after games today, which is what you told me a few moments ago. I merely said he'd been assaulted. As it happened so very recently, it is unlikely you'd have knowledge of it unless you were either a participant or a witness, and you mentioned neither. In any event, if this comes down to your word against his, and his is supported by subsequent actions which included an attack on you by two much smaller boys with seemingly much less experience than you at fighting, the only logical reason for which would have been an angry response by Blake to the attack on Tanner, do you not think the conclusion to be drawn here is rather obvious?”
Hogsford could think of nothing to say to that, and so remained silent.
The headmaster looked at him for a moment, then turned his back on him, swivelling in his chair to face his desk. His eye fell on the picture of the son he missed so terribly. As always, his painful memories caused him the deep and abiding regret that he could not go back and do many, many things differently.
He turned back to the silent boy.
"Hogsford, I will have to consider this matter. I want to take a little time with this, not act hastily. I will decide what the school's appropriate response to this situation must be. In the interim, while this is being decided, you will be on suspension. Your parents will be notifed to collect you immediately. Mr. Wardlowe will accompany you to town where a hotel room will be booked for you during your wait for your parents' arrival. You are not to be on school grounds until this matter is decided. You may go now."
Hogsford rose. He was not the type of boy who normally felt nervousness, but now, he did. This was not how he had expected this to turn out. Hogsford’s face went slack. He was stunned. He started to speak, saying what he didn’t know, but the headmaster held up his hand, then turn in his chair so he was facing his desk. All the time it took Hogsford to stand, and then leave the room, the headmaster sat staring into his desk.
With uncertain steps, Hogsford left the Headmaster's study. Mr. Wardlowe was waiting for him in the hallway.
13
Three weeks later, Wim and Liam were sitting at their desks in their room. It had been an exhilarating three weeks. Without Hogsford’s looming presence, other boys had begun filtering back into Liam’s life. As they had, and as it was seen that he was the same friendly and charismatic boy he had been before they’d known his secret, other boys had begun rallying to him, and the shame they felt at deserting him was quickly forgotten. And so Liam had slowly become whole again. He had also become fiercely protective of Wim, who now that he had a friend, no longer lived with the lonliness he hadn’t even realized was troubling him. He was doing well in his lessons and his outlook was better.
There was still a reserve in him, he still was warm only to Liam, but the warmth of his friendship was enough for him for now; it made all the difference. Liam helped him with the work he had missed and encouraged him, and because Liam was so supportive of him, the snide remarks that had occasionally been directed towards him in the past had now ended. In fact, as they sat at their desks now, there were three other boys in their room, and they were all chatting. As usual, Wim was somewhat withdrawn and rarely spoke, but he was an actual member of the group instead of an outsider and did respond well enough when asked for a direct comment. The fact that Wim was always watching and just as protective of Liam as Liam was of him was not apparent to anyone. Protection was something for which Liam now had no need.
It was usual, Liam being the outgoing boy he was, for boys to gather in Liam’s and Wim’s room. It happened most days. It did wonders for Liam’s mood. But there was a bittersweet quality to it. It troubled Liam that he still could not get Wim to entirely join in with other boys. There was a sadness in Wim that he seemed to keep locked away, and although he was now a happier boy, and occasionally did smile and even laugh, Liam knew the abandon most boys enjoy when with their peers was still absent. Liam wanted so desperately to help him become the carefree, happy boy he felt had to be there, hiding somewhere inside him, but didn’t know how. He wanted to see the smile that sometimes would now appear on Wim’s lips actually reach his eyes. There were many things Wim just would not talk to him about, things that caused him to stiffen up and go silent, and Liam thought if he could get him to discuss these things, perhaps some of his sadness could be erased.
An idea occurred to Liam one morning, and though it scared him, his feelings for Wim had grown to the extent that he would do anything in his power to help. A little fear was nothing to stop him. And so it was that, following morning lessons, he found himself on the headmaster’s doorstep.
After he’d been ushered inside, and then worried through a short wait outside the man’s closed study, the door opened and the headmaster was standing there, looking down at him.
“Ah, Blake. Please come in. Sit down, if you would. I’m delighted you’ve come to pay me a visit. I wish more of the boys would. Why have you come calling? Is there something I can help you with?”
Liam was startled. Never had he expected such warmth and friendliness from this outwardly severe man. He had hoped the man might help him. He’d been greatly impressed with him during his first visit. But friendliness he hadn’t been expecting. Where was the aloof hater of boys he kept hearing about?
“Thank you, sir. I was hoping, well, I was. . . .” He stopped. He really hadn’t prepared himself for this. All his thoughts had been directed to steeling himself to face the man. Now, he realized he had no idea how to proceed.
The headmaster smiled at him. “Come now, Blake. No need for nerves. How is everything going with you? And Tanner? Are you two happy in your new room?”
“Oh, yes sir! It’s wonderful. And it’s so much better now with the boys in the school. It’s just like it was before, and I’m so happy about that. There’s just this one problem, and I, well, I was hoping you could help. You did so much for us, and everything’s been so good since you did what you did, that I thought, maybe, well. . . .”
He stopped again. The headmaster saw him squirming, and tried to help. “You said ‘we’. I would guess then that the reason for your visit today is Tanner?”
“Yes sir.”
“And is he having a problem then?”
This was the moment, Liam realized. He forced himself to look directly into the headmaster’s eyes, then asked, “Can I speak very plainly with you, sir?”
“Please do, Blake. I want to help. I hate to see boys upset, and I found I liked Tanner very much when he was here. Such a small boy, but so brave. Many boys quail in front of me, but I could see, when it came to defending you, he didn’t hesitate. If he was timid, he didn’t show it to me. Even bigger lads hesitate to speak up to me. He didn’t for an instant. He was speaking in your behalf, and he was strong. You have a very good friend indeed in Tanner, Blake. I greatly admire that. If there’s anything I can do to help him, I will.”
“I don’t know if you can, sir, but I hope you might. I didn’t know where else to turn. I have to tell you some things. May I, sir?”
And so Liam did what is so hard for boys to do. His put his trust in an adult, an adult with great power over his life. He told him about the troubles he had been having, and his subsequent meeting with Wim. Then he spoke passionately about Wim. He told him about how the boy had no friends, about how he’d pushed them away, about how he’d built walls around himself, and about how, even with the walls in place, the two of them had come to be friends. How Wim couldn’t study and was failing in his lessons. How Wim’s walls had come down, partially down, when he was with Liam but only with him and neither of them knew why. How Wim still was troubled and Liam couldn’t reach him, but how Liam knew he needed to be reached, and how Liam thought maybe, since the headmaster had worked such magic for him, perhaps he could do the same for Wim. It was the only idea he had, but one he just prayed might work.
The headmaster had had to fight hard to keep tears from his eyes at Liam’s frank admission of his attempt to end his life. He had recovered enough to speak without his voice breaking by the time Liam was finished. At that point, the headmaster had stood and asked Liam to stand, and then had hugged the boy. Liam was surprised, but then hugged the man back, and from that point on, never felt the intimidated awe of the man other boys instinctively felt. He knew then that the image was a sham. This was a man who truly cared about boys, and his attitude towards him was from that time forward was one of respect that bordered on love.
“Blake,” said the headmaster when they were both finally seated again, “you have to promise to come see me if you ever feel that sort of despair again. You have to. Please promise me that now, I beg of you.”
“I promise. I hope I’ll never feel that way again. I look at what I tried to do then, and compare it to how I feel right now, only a short time later, and I realize I wasn’t thinking right. But I’m really good now. Everyone’s talking to me again, and I just can’t imagine ever reaching that point again. But thank you, sir, for caring about me, and I do promise.”
“Good. Now, I will surely do what I can for Tanner. Please have him come to me for tea today. I will talk to him, and we will see what we will see. And as good a friend as he is to you, I think you’re just as good a one to him. I think you boys deserve each other. You both fought for the other against odds you couldn’t possibly overcome. You were totally giving of yourselves for each other. That is very, very rare, even among good friends. I am so glad you two found one another.”
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