Lost & Found: Witherwood Reform School

  “Ready?” Tobias asked.

  “Nope.”

  Tobias moved into the hole anyway.

  CHAPTER 10

  THE UNDERGROUND POOL

  Most people have five senses—seeing, hearing, touching, tasting, and smelling. I know a man who sells hats who claims to have a sixth sense he calls fitting. He has the ability to guess anyone’s hat size. Now, whether or not he really does have some superhero fitting power, it doesn’t change the fact that there are at least five senses.

  Tobias could see the path that led down below the rolling stone. He could hear the quiet and knew that Marvin’s wagon was nowhere near. He could touch the walls of the tunnel and feel the cool wet surface. He couldn’t taste anything, which was sad because he was hungry, but he could smell something delicious, like cinnamon rolls being pulled from the oven. The smell made his hungry stomach even more so.

  “Do you smell that?” Keith asked quietly.

  It was a silly question; Tobias smelled almost everything.

  “Does this lead to some sort of top secret underground bakery? I hope so,” Keith said, answering his own question.

  The concrete path was narrow. After the initial slope, it had leveled out and the tunnel was twisting in a horseshoe pattern, turning them in the other direction. There were tiny lights on the tunnel walls every dozen steps. The bulbs were as small as mushrooms, but they lit things up enough to easily see the way.

  “Seriously,” Keith said. “That’s the best smell I’ve ever smelled. And I’ve smelled some pretty amazing things in my life.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, I once smelled a chocolate orange.”

  “That’s amazing,” Tobias said sarcastically.

  “What? You don’t think a chocolate orange would smell good?”

  “Shhhh,” Tobias whispered.

  The tunnel looped again, and they could hear Marvin’s voice. The two of them pressed their backs to the wall and inched closer. As the path turned, it opened up to a large white room lit with bright white bulbs. Two big planted ferns near the boys made the perfect spot to hide and witness what was happening.

  They slipped behind the ferns.

  A few of the walls in the room were painted with murals. One mural showed a field with a rainbow over it. Another mural had cows eating grass near a red barn. The entire room looked out of place. It seemed like a happy spot that had not yet been ruined by Witherwood. The room was rectangular, and in the middle of it there was a large swimming pool. On the far end, there was an elevator. Marvin was at the edge of the pool, still sitting on his wagon and talking to Archie. The thin bag on his head made him even more sinister-looking.

  “We are quite happy that the Protector didn’t kill you when it carried you off,” Marvin said. “You’re valuable—worth much more to us alive than dead.”

  “Thanks,” Archie said, standing next to Marvin and staring down into the pool. “What’s that down there?”

  Archie pointed toward the water.

  “You should know better than to ask questions,” Marvin chided. His voice was stern now, and he sounded like an adult who wanted everyone to know he was serious.

  “Sorry about the question,” Archie apologized.

  “Don’t worry,” Marvin cooed. “This is the moment. The water looks inviting, doesn’t it?”

  Archie nodded enthusiastically.

  “Take a dip. I believe you’re ready for it.”

  Tobias was stumped. Archie seemed fine, and the only thing that Marvin was doing was offering him a chance to go swimming—something most kids wanted to do—something Tobias himself wouldn’t have minded doing.

  “Do we stop him?” Keith whispered.

  “I’m not sure.”

  Archie took off his shirt, and after waiting no more than half a second, he dove into the water. There was a tremendous splash and Marvin laughed as if he were a kindly old grandfather who was enjoying the happiness his grandchild was experiencing.

  “Swim around,” Marvin said. “Take your time. You’ve earned it.”

  Archie splashed happily as he swam back and forth.

  “Are we trying to save Archie from having fun?” Keith whispered.

  “I don’t know what’s happening,” Tobias admitted. “I never expected to find a cinnamon-roll-smelling swimming pool. I’m really confused.”

  “It’s weird, but we should get back,” Keith said. “If we leave now, we might have a chance to slip into our rooms without being noticed. Of course, if the punishment is getting to spend time in a swimming pool, I’m not sure I don’t want to get caught.”

  Tobias began to inch away from the tall potted ferns and back into the tunnel. As soon as they were far enough, they picked up their pace and ran all the way to the rolling rock.

  “What time is it?” Keith asked as they ran.

  “It’s two thirty.”

  “That’s the best time to go to the dentist,” Keith said. “Get it? Tooth hurty.”

  “That’s not funny.”

  They made it out of the hole and Tobias pulled the chain in the tree and closed the rolling stone. The garden wasn’t as still as it had been when they went into the tunnel. Tobias could see a few pairs of eyes reflecting off the light from a nearby lamppost and hear leaves rustling.

  “I think we should run.”

  They ran through the bushes and trees and met up with the bit of wall that opened. Both of them slipped inside the wall, and Tobias shut the vent and slid the wooden peg back into place.

  “That was really weird, right?” Tobias asked.

  “Very,” Keith said. “But it smelled good. Now I’m hungry.”

  “I just hope Archie’s okay.”

  “Are any of us really okay?” Keith asked.

  It was a very good point.

  “Can you make it back to your room?”

  “Of course,” Tobias said, sounding slightly insulted.

  “Sorry, I forgot you probably know your way around this place as well as me. So we’ll meet up beneath the stairs near your room tomorrow night at eleven thirty. Until then, act dumb.”

  “I will,” Tobias said.

  The two of them split off where the space forked.

  Tobias quickly worked his way back to his room. When he got to his door, he unlocked it with the black key and slipped inside. He flipped on the lights and turned around to discover he was not alone.

  “Hello, Tobias.”

  CHAPTER 11

  OCD

  Tobias blinked and rubbed his eyes. He looked at the visitor sitting on his cot and rubbed his eyes some more.

  “Fiddle.”

  Tobias didn’t know whether he should hug his friend or keep away. It was nearly impossible to tell who could be trusted at Witherwood. Also, it wasn’t like Fiddle ever showered.

  Fiddle stood up. His long dark hair was still long and stringy, and it hung in his face like wet noodles. He had on a white T-shirt and black jeans. His eyes jumped and darted as he studied Tobias.

  “You look different,” Fiddle said.

  “I’m the same person,” Tobias replied.

  “I can see that; you just look different. Maybe it’s because you’re not standing in a cement tunnel with your sister, trying to escape.”

  “That could be it,” Tobias said, smiling. “That was the last place you saw me.”

  “Where’s your sister?”

  “She’s been moved to a different room.”

  “Oh. I used to think you two were just my imagination. But my uncle told me you aren’t. He also said I should stay far away from you.”

  “So why are you here, then?”

  “Sometimes my uncle’s a jerk,” Fiddle said, tapping his pointer finger against his leg as he spoke. “He’s also really hard to look at. Don’t tell anyone, but sometimes I’m embarrassed to be related.”

  “I won’t tell anyone.”

  Fiddle looked around the room. “I think this is the first time I’ve been behind door number se
ven. It’s not that great.”

  “I agree.”

  “So what happened?” Fiddle asked. “I thought you and your sister were leaving.”

  Tobias sat down on the cot Charlotte had last used.

  “Oh, this is a sit-down conversation,” Fiddle said seriously, sitting back down on another cot.

  “We got caught,” Tobias said. “Sheriff Pidge brought us back.”

  “He’s a horse’s behind,” Fiddle said. “Although he usually gives me gum.”

  “You know him?”

  “I get to know everyone who comes around here,” Fiddle said. “Remember, Marvin’s my uncle.”

  “So what’s your story?” Tobias asked.

  “I wasn’t breathing when I was born. I guess the lack of oxygen left me a little touched in the head.”

  “No,” Tobias said. “What happened to you after we left you in the tunnel?”

  “Right. Well, I held on to the hatch, keeping it closed as long as I could. Once the Protector left, I stepped out into the stream. There were a bunch of orderlies waiting for me there. They were pretty mad that you guys got away. They brought me back to my room. That’s when I gave you my pillows. Then my uncle decided to put me in a different room where I wouldn’t be so alone. He also told me what a big disappointment I am and how I’ll never be anything but an embarrassment to my family name.”

  Fiddle stopped talking to breathe deeply.

  “I’m sorry,” Tobias said. “We shouldn’t have asked you to help us. Thank you for doing what you did for us.”

  “I’m glad I did. It was the most fun I’ve had in a while. I wish that girl was here.”

  “Charlotte?”

  “Yeah, she was interesting. Remember how she kept saying I couldn’t get you off the mesa?”

  “I do.”

  “She was wrong.”

  “That’s true. We might have gotten caught, but we did get off the mesa. Where’s your room now?”

  “I don’t really remember,” Fiddle admitted. “Down some hall, up another. There’s always music playing. I can’t stand it. It’s kind of small, and I’d been in my old room so long that now I feel lost.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I’m supposed to stay put, but once I step out of my room, it takes me a while to find my way back. Usually that angry rat lady has to point me in the right direction.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re all right.”

  “That’s funny. Why would someone be glad about that?” Fiddle asked.

  “Um, because we’re friends.”

  “Interesting,” Fiddle said seriously. “That’s a first. So do you still want to get out of Witherwood?”

  “Yes, but not without my sister.”

  “It must be nice to have someone you care about. Can I tell you something?”

  Tobias nodded.

  “They locked up that hatch we entered in the stream last time. So if you do get out, don’t try to go that way. Also the Protectors are out of control.”

  “I’ve noticed.”

  “My uncle plans to kill them all,” Fiddle said. “They are the results of some bad experiments and they used to protect the school. Now things are different. My uncle wants all of them dead. I guess one of them almost accidentally lit the barn on fire while tearing things up behind the school. That barn would have burned for hours, and he says he can’t have that. So my uncle is calling in some people to take care of it.”

  “What people?”

  “I don’t know, but if you’re wandering around outside, I’d be careful. I’d hate to see you get hurt or shot.”

  “Thanks.”

  Fiddle stood up. “Well, I should try to find my way back. Will you tell Charlotte I was right?”

  “The moment I see her again.”

  “There was something else,” Fiddle said, thinking. “Something important. Oh yeah, I heard my uncle tell Orrin that they were expecting all new students this next semester.”

  “Really? So Witherwood will be super crowded?”

  “No,” Fiddle said in a friendly tone. “He said all the old ones will be gone.”

  Tobias didn’t move. The words had taken his breath away. He tried to blink but his mind was too busy processing what Fiddle had said.

  “Well, have a good sleep.” Fiddle patted Tobias on the shoulder as he walked past him. He slipped out the door and into the hall.

  “Wait,” Tobias whispered.

  Fiddle stuck his head back in.

  “What’s happening to us, the old students?”

  “I’m not sure, but I think it’s bad.”

  “This isn’t good.”

  “Right,” Fiddle said, confused. “That’s why I said it was bad.”

  “This is probably more important than you telling me the hatch was locked up.”

  “I know,” Fiddle said apologetically. “I never know if I should give people the bad news or the worst news first.”

  CHAPTER 12

  GARAGE SALE

  Ralph Eggers was not the kind of person they would ever put on the front of a coin or a postage stamp. Not that he wasn’t kindhearted or deserving in some way, but he just wasn’t a success. I suppose if they designed a coin to honor people who were unlucky in life, Ralph might have a shot at making it onto the halfpenny. Maybe. Even before he lost his memory, he had lost dozens of jobs and ruined many opportunities. Now he had no car or home or family that he knew of. Hope was a hard thing for him to find. He wanted to be the kind of person who found possibility in everything, but he was more like the kind of person who would possibly mess up everything. His life was a mess of nothing: no job, no family, no memories.

  Ralph closed his eyes and tried to remember anything.

  “Are you asleep?” Sam asked. “I know it’s early, but you’re not going to recognize anything with your eyes closed.”

  “I know,” Ralph answered. “I don’t think I’m ever going to figure stuff out. My mind’s blank, and it feels like it might always be that way.”

  It was early morning, and Sam and Ralph were driving along the outskirts of town trying to see if any landmark or landscape might trigger Ralph’s memory. They had been driving through neighborhoods and parks and downtown for the last two days, just hoping something would seem familiar.

  “Don’t lose hope,” Sam urged. “It’s best not to give up until you’re beat.”

  “I think I’m beat.”

  “Not completely. You got one of the finest drivers in the world personally toting you around. We haven’t covered the whole city, so we can’t quit yet. I know this city better than anyone,” Sam bragged. “I mean, that makes sense, seeing as how I’m a taxi driver. I take great pride in knowing where to go.”

  “You must be very proud.”

  “Thank you. I’ve met other drivers who just follow maps and GPS coordinates. That ain’t driving. It’s cheating.”

  “You’re right.”

  “Ahh, you’re probably just agreeing with me. But that’s okay. It makes sense that you would agree, seeing as how I’m right.”

  “I don’t want to be ungrateful,” Ralph said. “But it seems to me that you aren’t making any money by driving me around all day.”

  “I’ve got savings,” Sam boasted. “I want to see this through. Plus, I feel a little sorry for you. No offense.”

  “None taken.”

  “I mean, I’m my own man. That’s why I do this job. If I wanna tell the world to go take a flying leap, I can. It’s a comforting feeling.”

  “Well, I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”

  “That’s probably true. Just remember me one day when you discover you’re a rich king or billionaire business guy and give me a good tip.”

  “For sure.”

  As they drove around, nothing triggered Ralph’s memories. Everything just looked like houses in a city that had no connection to him whatsoever. Before lunch, Sam pulled over at a garage sale.

  “Mind if I rummage through things a bit? I like
garage sales. I once bought a lamp for a couple of bucks and found out later it was worth three thousand dollars.”

  Ralph couldn’t argue with that.

  The two men got out and walked up to the driveway. There was junk lying everywhere. Old mattresses, workout equipment, books, tools, records, etc.… Sam went directly for the lamps.

  The house that the garage belonged to was weathered and old, with a Victorian roofline and gold-painted rain gutters. There was a big porch, and the front yard was covered in deep-green grass. Ralph didn’t really need anything, but he wanted to make sure Sam didn’t feel rushed. So he flipped through the records and tried the exercise bike in an effort to look interested.

  There was a lot of junk for sale. There were also a few other people milling around, all of them with stuff in their arms. Near the garage door, there was a man wearing a floral shirt and black shorts. He had a poorly grown beard and a baseball cap with a tiger on the front. The man was sitting on a lawn chair next to a metal box that was filled with money.

  “See anything you like?” the man asked Ralph as he looked at a ceramic vase.

  “Not yet,” Ralph said kindly. “There’s a lot of stuff. Are you moving?”

  “No,” the man said casually. “I do this for a living. I collect stuff from other antique shops, garage sales, estate sales, you name it. Then I bring it home, mark it up a little, and sell it. I’m not the richest guy around, but I’ve been to Hawaii on vacation, and I have a boat.”

  “Wow.”

  “Wanna see it? I’ve got it back behind the house.”

  “That’s okay.”

  “It’s a thirty-footer.”

  “Neat,” Ralph said, still looking at vases.

  “That’s entirely not true. It’s actually a twenty-footer. But that’s still a real boat. I don’t care what the local boating chapter says. It’s seaworthy.”

  “Great.”

  “And I bought it all with the money from my garage sales.” The man took a long drink from the big cup he was holding. “So, are you gonna buy one of those vases or just look at them?”

  “I’m only looking. My friend might buy.”

  “Just so you know, I’ve got a Ping-Pong table inside the house that’s for sale. It doesn’t have a super-level surface, but it still plays okay. Interested?”