Saturday: View From The Top

The fire was roaring in the hearth, which I’m sure hadn’t seen anyaction for over a decade. The threadbare carpet had been thoroughly cleaned, although the stench of overcooked Korean noodles remained. While the entire Hayward dorm sat in our rundown common room, I couldn’t help but go over the raid disaster in my head.

We watched as two of our boys were carried away by the night guard, straight to the Headmaster’s residence. While I was able to slip back into my room, I couldn’t fall asleep that night. My fears were reconfirmed the next morning when I didn’t see CJ Kim or Thomas Carter at morning assembly. I really started to freak out when the Headmaster himself asked all Hayward boys to meet him the next evening, at 5 p.m. sharp.

I felt sick when I caught the twinkling eye of Haymish Blake amongthe crowd.

Not only had Hayward boys been caught out of bed at night, but theParker kids had somehow managed to blame the whole ordeal on us. The vomit and urine covered staircase, the mass amounts of girls out of bed, and the damage done to the hallways in the dorm itself. It was certainly no joke.

Waiting for the Big Cheese, I couldn’t lie to myself: Haymish had got us. He got us good. And now it would be near to impossible to do anything more, once the administration got involved.

The common room felt quiet, although the dull roar of conversationwas in full swing. It did become deathly silent, however, when ourHeadmaster walked into the room.

At an appalling five foot four, Matthew Healy was an oppressive force. His twinkling green eyes had a way of mesmerizing you, a lookso deep that it pierced your very soul. His left leg had a limp toit, which made you wonder what had caused it in the first place. He was an older man, but you wouldn’t ever guess it if his hair wasdifferent from the stark gray that it was. I had heard from othersthat when he was angry, his skin took on a blotchy red tinge and spit foamed on the corner of his mouth. I had hoped to never see itmyself, but the Headmaster looked directly at me when he began to speak.

“Now, let’s not play pretend, boys. I know what you are up to, and though I can’t say who is in charge of this pathetic excuse of ‘school spirit’, I am no fool.” His voice was quiet but it shook my ears all the same.

He shifted off his bad leg before he continued. “Cabin fever. It sure makes you feel so big and brave, doesn’t it? In the next two weeks, before you all leave this dormitory for wherever you call home, you will learn to deal with restlessness. I would hate to send you home early for an never-ending Spring Break.”

And with that, his green eyes swiveled over the room one last time. Everyone heard the Headmaster’s slight shuffle in our hall as hewalked out into the cold night.

I didn’t listen as our dorm head told us of our punishment and restrictions for the next two weeks. I couldn’t believe that after everything, after months of petty tricks and pranks, that Haymish Blake would have the last laugh.

But, as the boys around me walked off towards their rooms, I thought again. Just because he won the battle doesn’t mean he had won this war.

Back to the drawing board.

Always Watching,

Twitter: @nymoves
Instagram: @nymovesmagazine

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