Witherwood Reform School

  The light on top of the pole buzzed on, again exposing the gate. The bulb flickered three times and then snapped off.

  Charlotte shivered. “It doesn’t look very nice. Let’s just wait here.”

  “No way,” Tobias insisted.

  “Let’s walk back down to the highway,” Charlotte suggested. “Dad might be there waiting.”

  “That’s probably what he wants,” Tobias said strongly.

  Charlotte followed her big brother. The outlines of the bars were slightly visible against the black clouds. As they stepped closer, the bars grew taller and taller, the tops of them piercing the sky like knives.

  They reached the gate, and the broken light buzzed on and kept its glow for a few seconds. The edges of the gate were covered in thorny vines, and there were words etched into the stone pillars on the side of the bars. Tobias pulled at the back of his hair as he read aloud, “Witherwood Reform School—Caring, Community, and Character since 1805.”

  “Sounds cheery,” Charlotte observed. “Do you think they didn’t care before 1805?”

  Tobias tried to laugh.

  The light buzzed off. Tobias stepped up to the gate and grabbed two of the thick bars. They were wet and cold and felt imposing in his hands. He shoved hard, but the gate wouldn’t move. He inhaled deeply.

  The death of his mom had affected Tobias in a strange way. Ever since she had died, things in life smelled and tasted different and much stronger.

  “How’s it smell?” Charlotte asked.

  “Dark,” Tobias replied.

  “It looks pretty shut up,” Charlotte observed. “Maybe there’s no one in there.”

  Tobias pushed his face against the bars and stared with his wet blue eyes. Through the dark he saw a cobblestone road, and in the distance, he spotted two little lights on a high wall.

  “Look,” he whispered excitedly.

  Charlotte pushed her face up to the bars and gazed fervently. “I don’t see anything.”

  “Way, way back there,” Tobias insisted. “It’s the top of a building. And look, there are some small rocks glowing on the ground.”

  Charlotte could see small iridescent stones twinkling softly, like dim stars stuck to the ground; the building was too dark to make out. She turned and looked back down the road, wishing her father would return.

  “He’s not there,” Tobias said, realizing what she was doing. “We’ll go inside, and when Dad comes back, we’ll tell him we’re not sure we want to go yet.”

  The thought was so ridiculous it caused Charlotte to smile.

  “Yeah,” she said. “We can tell him we need to check our calendars.”

  “See?” Tobias laughed. “We can do this.”

  “But we can’t even get in,” Charlotte reminded him. “Unless you think you can pick that lock.”

  Before Tobias could answer, a buzzing noise came from the gate. It was followed by a sharp click.

  “I think we were just buzzed in,” Tobias said nervously.

  “Is that good or bad?” Charlotte whispered.

  “I have no idea. I guess somebody can see us on a camera or something.”

  Charlotte waved at the darkness just in case someone was watching. While she waved, Tobias put both hands on the bars and pushed as hard as he could. The iron gate squealed like a pig. He moved it open three feet and then stood back and stared at the opening.

  “Maybe we should wait here,” Charlotte said again.

  “It’s just a school,” Tobias reminded her. “How bad can it be?”

  It was a foolish question. Certainly there are some fantastic schools in the world, places of great learning, fulfillment, and excitement. But none of the schools Tobias and Charlotte had ever been to had been that kind of school.

  “Right,” Tobias corrected himself. “I mean, it’s probably no worse than our school now. Besides, their motto is ‘Caring, Community, and Character,’ remember?”

  “Building character is so painful sometimes,” Charlotte said.

  “Well, do you want to stand out here in the rain all night?”

  Charlotte shook her head.

  Tobias slipped through the opening and back behind the bars. He then reached out his hand. “Come on, Char.”

  Charlotte extended her arm and took Tobias’s hand.

  “You shouldn’t have put those tadpoles in Martha’s gravy.”

  “Enough with that. She shouldn’t have pushed you around. Besides, it’s too late to worry about that now.”

  “Yup,” Charlotte agreed. “I think we have new things to worry about.”

  The gate light flickered twice as a soft wind picked up.

  CHAPTER 5

  ONE-MAN WELCOME PARTY

  There are times in life when a person knows he or she is doing wrong, but for some odd reason, continues doing it. A woman might realize she’s going the wrong way, but she keeps going because she’s too proud to stop and ask for directions. A man might discover that what he’s cooking is horrible, but he keeps cooking it because he believes the woman who won’t stop to ask for directions will be over any moment and she’ll expect something to eat. In the end they’re both going to be disappointed and realize that they should have stopped before they began. Well, it would have been wise for Tobias to stop before he began, but being a bit stubborn, he led Charlotte toward the school.

  “This place is creepy,” Charlotte whispered. “I don’t care for the trees. They look as if they’re going to attack us.”

  The trees she was concerned about were tall cottonwoods and willows that lined the cobblestone road. In the dark, their leafy branches reached out like strands of webbing waiting to ensnare them.

  “I promise the trees won’t attack us,” Tobias assured her.

  “We should probably turn back,” Charlotte said, having a bad case of second and third thoughts. “Dad’s going to be looking for us.”

  “Don’t worry,” Tobias insisted. “When Dad returns and finds we’re gone, he’ll be so sick about it that he’ll beg to be forgiven. I figure us coming in here will erase any punishment those tadpoles might have caused.”

  The cobblestone road was outlined faintly by tiny white pebbles. They followed the road as it turned to the right and then curved to the left. When it straightened out, the dark silhouette of a large three-story building began to appear. The night made it hard to see clearly, but there were at least fifty unlit, arched windows, and bulky square stones framed the far corners. Ivy clung to the bottom of the building like leafy fingers. Witherwood looked a bit like a flattened castle that had forgotten to be enchanted.

  Both Tobias and Charlotte stopped and took a moment to stare.

  “That doesn’t look like a school,” Charlotte whispered. “It’s huge.”

  They followed the cobblestone road up to a circular drive that wrapped around a good-sized statue of a man … or a woman. It was hard to tell for sure because it was so old and weathered. Behind the statue, a path led to the ivy-covered front. Over the doors hung a large copper overhang. A weak yellow light lit up the wide double doors.

  Tobias and Charlotte took the path and then stood under the copper overhang trying to find the courage to enter.

  “Can you hear someone singing?” Charlotte asked.

  “No. Who would be singing here?”

  Above the doors, the word WITHERWOOD was chiseled in stone. The doors themselves were wooden, with smiling eagles carved on the bottom panels. The happy eagles had sticks in their mouths and flags in their talons. Just above the eagles were giant wooden knockers shaped like round moons. Carved at the top of both doors were the words EDUCATION, EDUCATION, EDUCATION. It may have been the wind, but it sounded like the huge school was moaning softly.

  Tobias reached out and grabbed the knob on the left door. He tried to twist the knob, but it wouldn’t budge. He tried the other; it was locked as well. Tobias looked at Charlotte and squeezed a handful of wet hair on the back of his head.

  “Maybe nobody goes to school here anym
ore,” Charlotte suggested. “It’s really quiet.”

  Tobias grabbed one of the knockers. He lifted it and let it fall. A loud, dull bonk echoed from behind the door.

  “Did you hear that?” Charlotte asked.

  “No.”

  “I can hear someone coming!”

  Tobias’s heart began to thump wildly. The hairs on the back of his neck stretched as if trying to scream.

  The noise grew louder.

  Pllumpt. Pllumpt.

  “That doesn’t sound normal,” Charlotte insisted.

  “It’s fine,” Tobias said, attempting to act casual. “It’s just footsteps. Someone must be coming.”

  Pllumpt. Pllumpt.

  “I smell something old,” Tobias said quietly.

  The footsteps ceased, but they were followed by the clank and scrape of what sounded like chains being moved, and then a key being turned and a lock tumbling open.

  Click.

  The left door opened slowly. Tobias and Charlotte held their breath, staring at the widening gap. There it was, the source of the old smell. Through the opening, they saw an extremely short man wearing a white overcoat and peering at them with his left eye. Tobias glanced down. On his small feet, the man had black shoes that were in need of a good polishing. Charlotte looked at the top of him and discovered he was bald and sporting a gray comb-over with no more than four long hairs. The man also had a pointed chin and a nose that was caught between trying to decide whether it should turn up or turn down—one nostril was visible, and the other was not. He looked funny, but not in a good way.

  “Hello?” the short man said nervously, scratching his right forearm.

  “Hello,” Tobias said back.

  “We’re closed for the day,” the man informed them.

  “I know,” Tobias said. “It’s just that—”

  “It’s late,” the little man interrupted. “Very late. Most people are asleep at this time.”

  “Right,” Tobias said. “We’re really sorry about that. It’s just that we were stranded outside your gate and wondered if we could wait here until our father comes back.”

  “Stranded?” the funny little man asked, acting more frightened than they were. “My goodness. Did one of the … did someone bring you here?”

  “We were dropped off,” Charlotte explained. “Our dad—”

  Tobias elbowed Charlotte to shut her up. “What my sister means is that our father dropped us off by accident.”

  “Accident?” the little man asked, opening the door a bit more. “This is a school, not an accident. Our motto is—”

  “Sure,” Tobias interrupted. “We saw the sign. We just need someplace to wait for our dad. Or maybe you have a phone we could use?” It was a silly thing to ask for, since there wasn’t a single person besides his father who Tobias could call for help, and Tobias knew his father didn’t have a phone.

  “I’m curious,” the little man asked. “How’d you get through the gate?”

  “Someone buzzed it open,” Tobias explained. “Was it you?”

  “No, but that’s interesting. And you’re sure you’re not here to harm our school?”

  Tobias looked down at his sister and then back at the man. “We’re sure.”

  The large wood door closed just a bit and then, with one creaking motion, it swung all the way open.

  “Come in,” the man said smoothly. “I’d kick myself in the morning if I didn’t lend a helping hand. And who wants to be kicked?”

  “Not us,” Tobias and Charlotte answered in unison.

  The little man smiled and waved them in.

  This was the third time in the last few hours they had felt things were wrong but just kept on going. They stepped inside Witherwood, and the wood door shut behind them with a piercing snap.

  CHAPTER 6

  THERE’S SOMETHING IN THE TREES

  Inside Witherwood, the darkness of the great outdoors was gone, thanks to long fluorescent lights overhead that flickered slightly. The funny little man limped over to a desk and motioned for them to sit down. Two empty chairs were positioned in the middle of the floor, looking almost as if they had been set up for the children’s arrival.

  “It’s like you knew we were coming,” Tobias joked.

  “We didn’t,” the man replied quickly. “I am told a lot of things, but I didn’t know about you two. Please sit down.”

  Tobias and Charlotte sat. They were dripping wet and appeared smaller than normal. Charlotte glanced around, taking in her surroundings. The room was big and rectangular. The bottom half of the walls was painted blue, and the top was white. The ceiling was made of a brown glossy wood that matched the doors and the trim. There was a poster on one wall of a giraffe attempting to swallow a watermelon. The caption below it read, Some things aren’t worth trying.

  “That’s weird,” Charlotte whispered.

  Next to the giraffe poster was a map of Witherwood. Tobias stared at it. He had been interested in maps since he was a little kid. He loved the makeup of buildings and the mechanics of machines. The map of Witherwood showed that the school was rectangular, with a massive open space in the middle. The four sides of the school were labeled—East Hall, where they now were; Severe Hall, which was the south part of the school; Never Hall, the north; and Weary Hall, the back of the school. There were other buildings and structures drawn on the map, but they were blocked by a tall lamp and hard to see. Overall, the map wasn’t as detailed as Tobias would have liked.

  “Not a very good map,” Tobias whispered to his sister.

  “I knew you’d say that,” she whispered back.

  The room had a large glass trophy case that ran the length of the back wall. There were only five trophies in the case. The floor was white marble with gray specks and had a number of cracks in it. An empty fish tank was pushed up against one of the walls. It was sloppily filled with books and papers. Taped to the front of the fish tank was a single piece of white paper with STUDENT MORALE DAY IS COMING written on it. The room seemed more functional than interesting.

  The little man sat down behind a large wood desk and opened the top drawer. While rummaging through it, he spoke. “My name is Orrin. You can call me Mr. Orrin if you need to, but most people think it’s easier to just say Orrin. It’s my last name. My first name, quite frankly, is none of your business—not to be rude, just honest.”

  Tobias wanted to point out that they didn’t need to know his name or anything about him, since they wouldn’t be there very long.

  “I’m one of the … teachers,” Orrin continued. “Curious story about that. I entered a contest in a magazine called Hard to Explain. The winner got to be a science teacher for a day here at Witherwood. I won, and well, after that day I just couldn’t leave. I’ve been here for years. And it just so happens that it’s my turn to watch the front tonight. We take turns around here. We’re like a big family.”

  Both kids nodded and noticed that Orrin’s eyes didn’t match. One was light blue, while the other looked almost black. He also had a red rash on his right forearm that he kept scratching.

  Orrin found what he was looking for in his drawer. “Aha, just what I needed,” he said, pulling out a small white index card. He slipped a pen from his coat pocket and clicked the top of it. “Your names, please?”

  “I’m Tobias, and my sister’s name is Charlotte.”

  Orrin wrote the names down and then looked up. “Your surname?”

  Tobias was confused. “Um … I’m Sir Tobias?”

  “No, no,” Orrin said, trying not to smile. “Your last name?”

  “Oh, why do you need that? We won’t be here for long. Our dad’s probably coming through the gate right now.”

  “The gate’s locked,” Orrin said. “It’s important to keep things where they belong.”

  “But we left it open,” Tobias told him.

  “Interesting. Well, if you don’t want to give me your last name, so be it.” He put the small white card into a box on his desk that wa
s filled with other small white cards organized alphabetically. “I’d let you use the phone, but this wet weather ruins our phone lines up here on the mesa. Can’t make a single call.”

  “Oh,” Tobias said, staring at the little box Orrin had put the card in.

  “It wouldn’t help anyhow. Our dad doesn’t have a cell phone,” Charlotte said. “And we haven’t got anyone else to—”

  Tobias elbowed Charlotte, and she shut up.

  “Interesting,” Orrin said again. “Well, then maybe you’d like to lie down? I’m sure we could find a spot for you to rest. I find rest to be most comforting.”

  “That’s okay,” Tobias said. “We’ll just rest in these chairs.”

  “Fine,” Orrin replied, leaning back in his own chair and closing his mismatched eyes.

  “You don’t have to stay with us,” Tobias said. “I promise we won’t touch anything.”

  Orrin opened his eyes and smiled—a small dimple appeared on his left cheek. “It’s not the school I’m worried about.”

  Tobias suddenly wished he were standing outside in the dark getting rained on instead of being inside with Orrin. “You know, maybe we should just go.”

  “Yeah,” Charlotte agreed, her face pale.

  “The gate’s locked,” Orrin said, scratching at his arm.

  “I’ll go check,” Tobias told him. “I’m pretty sure we left it open.”

  “It’s locked now. Trust me,” Orrin insisted. “I think it’d be best if you just stayed right here until your father comes. Okay?”

  Tobias and Charlotte looked at him and nodded.

  “You’ve actually arrived at a great time. Student Morale Day is not that far away and—”

  Orrin’s words were cut off by a muffled scream that was coming from someplace in the school. Tobias and Charlotte jumped out of their chairs. Orrin barely flinched.

  “What was that?” Tobias asked.

  “Don’t worry about that. This is such an old building. There are lots of odd noises. It’s probably just someone flushing a toilet, or maybe it’s the foundation settling.”