probably mud.
He quickly crawled out of the way so that Jamison would not land on him, snapping his spine. There wouldn’t be much of a victory in saving the sisters if he became a quadriplegic who required their constant care.
Jamison landed in the mud next to him. “Such a stench!” he declared, sitting up and wiping his face. “Good God! Who
Nathan and Jamison crawled out of the muck. There was a light glow to the left, so they decided to walk over there instead of in a direction that did not have a light glow, and Nathan pulled aside a ratty curtain.
The room, lit by the candlelight of a very inexpensive candle, was filled with forty or fifty people, even though it seemed to have space for only twelve. Such a tragic sight! The children in the orphanage had not exactly sparkled with good health, but these people were covered with filth of every sort, their faces hollow, their chests sunken. Bugs crawled over everything and everyone, and Nathan saw that at least three of them had actual weeds growing out of the dirt on their bodies.
“Forgive me,” he whispered. “I never meant for this to happen.”
Whoever had screamed before, screamed again.
There was a doorway—just the doorway, not the door, since doors were far too expensive—on the other side of the room. Somebody over there needed help, desperately.
“Are any of you Penny or Mary?” Nathan asked, quickly scanning the crowd. He wasn’t sure he’d recognize them even if he saw them.
The residents were all too weak to speak or shake their heads, so nobody answered. After gazing at each grim face, Nathan decided that none of them belonged to the sisters. “Pardon me,” he said to the group. “I have to get to that doorway!”
The condition of these people was a sight that would haunt Nathan for the rest of his days, but from a “glass is half full” perspective, at least it was easy to push past them. Nathan and Jamison passed through the doorway and entered another room, where a deranged looking man with wild hair stood, holding a baseball bat over his head. A woman cowered on the floor, hands shielding her face.
“Stop!” shouted Nathan. “Leave her alone!”
“I’ll leave her alone all right,” said the man with a snarl. “Leave her alone after I bash her head in!” He chuckled as if this were a terribly witty comment, though it obviously was not.
Nathan wasn’t sure what to do. Since the woman had been screaming for a while and there were no visible signs of her having already been struck by the baseball bat, he assumed that the man was in no rush to complete the job, but would he lollygag for much longer?
Nathan didn’t hesitate. He had been beaten so many times in his life, not to mention getting shot and having his arm dunked in boiling oil, that the idea of a baseball bat cracking across his forehead wasn’t intimidating. He was so used to injury that he’d even forgotten about the bullet that had nicked his ear, which was something that most little boys would have thought about a great deal.
The crack of the baseball bat across his forehead did hurt when it happened, though. He fell to the ground.
“You bastard!” Jamison screamed. “His mind is only seven years old!”
Jamison rushed forward, received his own attention from the bat, and fell to the ground next to Nathan, unconscious.
Nathan crawled over to the man and grabbed his leg. Nobody would fault him for using his teeth to save an innocent woman, would they? At this point, what did it matter if Officer Danbury wanted to send him to jail again? He opened his mouth wide and chomped down on the man’s leg.
Pain shot through his mouth, and two of his loose teeth came free. And with that, all three of the conscious people in the room were screaming.
The man raised his baseball bat, preparing to deliver a blow that Nathan thought might knock his head straight down the center of his body until he was peering through his own navel. Nathan bit him again. This time only one tooth popped out, though the pain was still noteworthy. The man yelped, dropped his baseball bat, and ran back into the room with the dirty withered people.
“Are you okay?” Nathan asked the woman, gently pulling her hands away from her face. She wasn’t a woman, really, more like a girl, around Jamison’s new age.
She looked familiar.
“Beverly?” he asked.
“Nathan? Is it really you?” Her eyes glistened. “I haven’t seen you since I beat you up in school those four different times! I heard you’d gone off to make your fortune!”
“I had, sort of, but not as voluntarily as I would have liked.” He tapped Jamison’s shoulder. Jamison waved him away and rolled over on his side, gently snoring. Nathan quickly gathered up his teeth and shoved them into his pockets. “How did you end up living in the Poor House? I’d have thought you could punch your way into a good job, easily.”
“I volunteer here on weekends. They are too poor to afford water, so I was bringing them a barrel of imitation water when this man came after me and chased me right down into the pit. I’m not as brutal as I once was, Nathan. I’m afraid the years have turned me soft and feminine. I’ve kissed two boys in the past year alone.”
Nathan found himself growing mildly jealous, even though he didn’t like Beverly or girls in general.
“Not that I’m helpless and delicate,” Beverly assured him. “I’m just not as well equipped to handle madmen with bats as I once was.” She tilted her head to the side as she stared at him. “You look exactly the same except for your missing teeth. How is that possible?”
He told her the story, leaving out the parts that might cast him in a negative light. He wasn’t sure why he cared what she thought of him, since she was mean, but though he didn’t lie about anything, he did feel compelled to paint himself in a more heroic manner.
“What a tale!” Beverly said. “I’d thought that almost getting hit with the baseball bat was the worst moment of my life, but you’ve far eclipsed me. Forced to eat spiders? How awful!”
“Penny and Mary, the sisters who cared for me. Do you know where they are?”
“Oh, Nathan, hadn’t you heard?”
“Heard what?”
“It’s most dreadful news indeed!”
“What is it?”
“Oh, I’m not sure I can be the one to tell you!”
“Are they dead?”
“No, not both of them but…”
“Even one of them dead is far too many!”
“Actually, I don’t think either of them are dead. But it’s worse! Much worse! Of course, it all depends on your point of view. Some would think that it wasn’t as bad.”
“What happened to them?”
“They were banished.”
“Banished? From the Poor House?”
“No, from the entire town, never to return under threat of being buried alive! And not the good kind of buried alive, where you’re given a flashlight and reading material, but the horrible kind of buried alive, where you’re given a gun with which to end your own life if you’re so inclined, but when you press it to your head and work up the courage to pull the trigger you hear only a click and discover that the gun had no bullets, and so you’re forced to beat yourself to death with it in order to avoid a slow death by suffocation!”
“What could they have done to deserve such a thing?”
Beverly lowered her eyes. “You won’t like the answer.”
“Well, I mean, we
“Not in a direct cause/effect fashion, but there was a great deal of anger related to your existence. Officer Danbury had apparently been given a small pouch of coins upon your release from jail, and discovered that they were worthless imitations. He tried to purchase a refreshing treat, and the ice cream vendor told him that the coins
