Wrath. Part 14

Owen sticks his head out of the door. "In you come."

Archie goes through first, and I hang back. I glance around, remembering the room well from the time after the football game. Now, there's a boy of about 13 in one of the beds, his head thrown back, mouth wide open, snoring softly. There are some posters on the wall about not smoking, not taking drugs and treating people with respect. Captive audience, I suppose. Another boy, one I know, lies back in his bed, reading a car magazine. He looks up and smiles at me, putting the magazine down.

"Hi, Ben," I say. "What're you in here for?"

"Nothing much," he says, his hand brus.h.i.+ng unconsciously across his forehead, where there is a blue-green bruise. "Just slipped in the shower and hit my head." I nod. We all know about that one. He's p.i.s.sed somebody off for sure. "Kinda' nice in here, though."

I wander slowly to where Aaron is sitting on his bed, knees crossed, pyjama top undone, gazing listlessly at Archie.

"You'll be out of here soon after me. Just hang on till then."

Aaron shakes his head. "Listen, Arch, I don't want to get out of here. What makes you think it's so great out there?" He stops and frowns. "Why didn't they just leave me alone? They had no right to pump my stomach. It's my life and my decision to end it. None of their business, interfering a.r.s.eholes."

Archie gets up from the chair beside the bed. "I'm not listening to this c.r.a.p," he says and strides off to the door. Neither of us say anything for a minute, and then Aaron shrugs and says, "You know what I mean, don't you?"

I panic for a second. What's the right thing to say? Don't rush. Think. I breathe slowly, and then it comes to me.

"No, I don't, Aaron. I've taken the lives of two people-one I loved-and the thought of another person I think a lot of dying as well is just more than I can take." My voice breaks, and I close my eyes for a moment. Breathe. Just breathe. I feel a grip on my arm. I open my eyes, and Aaron's staring intently at me, his brow furrowed. There's no vagueness in his look now.

"That's heavy."

"Don't try it again, Aaron. Archie's right. You'll get past all of this."

"There's no one out there for me, Luca. My mother has her own life. She never wanted me in the first place. I don't even know who my old man is. Some loser, I guess. The only thing that's ever made me feel good is drugs. Oh yeah," he grins, "and sport." His smile fades, and his eyes go dead again. "I can't do without drugs, and I can't do... I can't do what I have been doing to get them. Not anymore. I'd rather be dead." He grips my arm again. "You get that, don't you?"

I nod. "I get it, but listen; I meant what I said. I can't take another person around me dying. I haven't got anyone out there either. No one. Will you just hang around for a while? For me?"

He smiles sadly. "I'll die without drugs anyway."

"I'll get them for you!" I hiss. "I've only spent a bit of the money in my account. I'll get the word out, and you'll have what you need."

"But there's still the guard. Nothing will stop him from coming into my cell."

"I think I've got a way to stop him."

Alarmed, Aaron sits up. "Don't say anything, Luca, or you're dead meat."

"I know all about that. I can do it without telling them anything they don't already know. Promise me you won't do anything stupid till I speak to you again."

He smiles. "I can't promise you I won't do anything stupid, but I can promise you I won't neck myself just yet." Just for that moment, the old Aaron is back.

Minutes later, I'm outside, where Archie is waiting for me. He's sitting on the bench with his head in his hands. "Luca," he says. "I'm gonna have to stop that guard. I was trying to keep clean till I got out, but what sort of friend am I if I don't help Aaron? He's going to be dead if I don't do something." He laughs hollowly. "Not much point being out there free if I've left a mate to die." He gets heavily to his feet.

"Archie, don't do a thing. I have a way."

He stops and turns. "What way?"

"Just don't do anything yet, okay?"

Archie nods, puzzled.

Owen wanders across. "How's the patient?"

"Not bad. Do you think I could see Mr Khan?"

"Sure. Let's see if he's busy."

We start back up the corridor, but Archie pulls me back. "Don't do it. Don't say nothing."

"I won't, Arch," I say and lope off next to Owen.

Five minutes later, I'm sitting opposite Mr Khan.

"What can I do for you, Luca?" he smiles. "Nothing wrong, I hope?"

"Nothing that you can't help fix, sir," I say confidently, although I'm feeling a bit shaky inside. He waits, and I take a deep breath. "My friend Aaron is in sick bay. I guess he'll be out in a day or two, and I want to stop him from hurting himself again."

He raises his eyebrows, leaning forward slightly in his chair. "Are you going to tell me where he got the drugs from?"

"Sorry; I can't help you with that."

"Then what can you do?" Mr Khan frowns.

"I'd like Aaron to move to my cell, sir. A double bunk can go in there, and then I'd be able to keep an eye on him, keep him off the drugs."

Pursing his lips a little, Mr Khan says, "You could be sure of it if you found out where he was getting the drugs from." I say nothing. "Most boys prefer their own cells. It's very unusual to give up a single cell."

I have to convince him. "I know that, sir, but he's been a good friend to me, and if someone's there with him all the time, he won't get the opportunity to do anything."

Mr Khan sits there for a moment, rolling the pen on his desk back and forth. "Well, if you're sure about this, I can move you both to a shared cell and someone else can have your single ones." I feel a pang. My cell has been my coc.o.o.n-where I've written to you in my journal so often-the only place I could be myself. "That'll be great, sir."

He smiles at me. "Not for too long, though. Your new cellmate gets out soon."

I pack up my few things, and Owen takes me to my new home. It's a bit bigger than a single cell, but I know once Aaron's in here, it'll be pretty squeezy. I set up my desk-my journal on the bottom so Aaron doesn't see it-and my clothes, and I take the top bunk. Later that night, while I'm studying, Aaron wanders in, his arms full of his stuff.

"What's the deal, dude?"

I wait till the guard leaves and closes the door. "No one's going to be coming in here without my knowing it. You're never going to be alone in here. He's not going to do a thing while there's a witness."

Aaron purses his mouth. "I feel like a little kid, though, with you watching me all the time."

"Don't you think you need it?"

He frowns for a second and then slowly nods. "Guess this is my bunk."

"Yep. All you have to do is shut up when I study."

"No big deal." He potters around, sticking posters up over the walls and stacking his clothes away while I finish, and then we both hit the sack. We talk for a while and then say goodnight. I'm just drifting off when Aaron says, "Luca?"

"What?"

"Thanks."

"No worries."

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT.

The day before Archie leaves, we have a bit of a party. The boys on kitchen duty even make him a packet cake and cut it into the shape of a key like they do for people's 21st birthdays. Archie's face is just glowing. That's the only way to describe it.

"I'll see you soon, anyway," he says, and then he frowns and glances at me.

I shrug a little. "We know, Arch."

Next morning at breakfast, everyone whistles and cheers when Archie comes in wearing a checked s.h.i.+rt and jeans, his hair wet and brushed back but with some of his curls pinging back down his neck and above his ears already. He waves like the champion he is, and Tim even gets his breakfast tray for him. We laugh and joke, but breakfast is over too soon, and he'll be gone by lunch time. The boys troop past him, and just Aaron and I hang back. I step up to Archie and hug him.

"Couldn't have lasted without you, mate," I say. He doesn't answer, but I feel his body tremble, and I walk away quickly. No time to brood though; it's straight over to cla.s.s for the last time. What a day of goodbyes.

We're pretty good with our meditating now. If ever there's a good drug, meditation must be it. We're all hooked. I don't just sit there counting now. I start that way to slow my thoughts down, and then I just let my thoughts pa.s.s. After a while, everything's calm. Mr P says to stay with whatever feeling comes up-even if it's a bad feeling, like being agitated; just acknowledge it and feel agitated. Don't think about what's making you that way-just stay with the feeling till it pa.s.ses.

Most often the feeling that comes up in me is sadness. When I used to think about what I did, about Mum and Ray, I'd feel so many thoughts all clattering and banging into each other-guilt, self-loathing, fear, horror, disgust-but now all that's left is sadness, a sadness that I think will be with me forever, but I accept it. Today, though, my mind is full of Archie, and I feel happy, so happy for him. I sit and feel that happiness, and I can't help but smile.

There's only a little group of us doing our exams. The other boys are lying around on the couches or in their rooms, but they join us to wish Mr P a good holiday and to thank him for all he's done for us.

Jason stands up, grinning with embarra.s.sment. "We'd just like to thank you, Mr P, for working with us all this time. We've bought you something to remember us by." He hands Mr P a parcel. I have no idea what it is. I'm not included. All I've done is written him a letter thanking him for all he's done for me. I step forward and put the letter on top of the parcel.

Mr P stands there, a big smile on his face. He scratches the back of his neck and hitches up those awful pants he wears. "Thank you, boys. It's been a privilege and a pleasure."

"Open your present, sir," urges Norbert. The other boys laugh.

"Okay, okay." Mr P rips open the package, and out fall a pair of jeans and a T-s.h.i.+rt.

"Time to get a bit groovy, sir. Hope they fit."

"He won't notice if they don't!" We all laugh, including Mr P, because we all know it's true.

"Well, I've got a little something for each of you; nothing much-nothing as flash as your present to me." He hands us each a parcel, and I can tell mine's a book. Bet it's another Buddhist one! I rip the paper open and look at the back. Yep. On the back cover, it says something about someone called Milarepa, who lived over a thousand years ago. He'd caused the deaths of 35 people, but he changed his life around through meditation and became one of the great heroes of Tibetan Buddhism, achieving enlightenment in one lifetime. Typical Mr P. The allusion's not lost on me. See? I've learnt what an allusion is this year!

Mr P comes over. "Good luck, Luca. I'm proud of what you've done this year. It's been a pleasure to know you." He turns to the boys. "How about we just spend the last few minutes on our cus.h.i.+ons, boys? Just something a bit different to finish off."

Surprised, we sit down again. Whatever Mr P wants to do, that's fine. His funny clothes, his raucous laughter, his mellow, soothing voice-they'll all be gone for good in a little while, so we settle, smiling at him.

"Just close your eyes. I want you to imagine somewhere a long way off, a beautiful valley. There are snow-capped mountains around you, and the valley is green and lush. Slowly, it fills with countless Buddhas, sitting like you." He pauses. "Or, if you prefer, it can be Jesus standing there, smiling down on you. A soft, white light comes from them, joining together in a glowing purity all the way down to you. It surrounds you and then flows gently through the top of your head and into your body, filling it with light and love. Any dark parts in your body- where you hold fear or pain-dissolve in that radiant light until your whole body is filled and surrounded. You are pure. All pain is gone. You are healed."

He stops talking, but I hardly notice. Those dark parts sure are in me-I can feel it in my stomach and chest when I think about that night-but that light fills me, and even though I know it won't last, that feeling is good. I wish I could just sit there forever.

"Well, boys, that's it." We open our eyes and blink at each other. "Stay where you are," Mr P says, getting to his feet. "I'd like to remember you all this way."

Jason says in a husky voice, "You wouldn't have one dark place in you. You're good all the way through."

A tiny flinch contorts Mr P's face for a second. "We all have our dark places, Jason. Knowing that helps us to have compa.s.sion for everyone else." He waves gently to us and is gone.

We sit in silence for a while, and then I say goodbye to them all and thank them for having me, just as did the first time I came. They laugh, and I leave with a smile on my face.

I see Neil that afternoon in the gym.

"Can you get some speed or whatever it is that Aaron takes?" I ask.

Neil screws up his face. "You going to turn into a crack-head too?"

"No, no. I just need to have some for when Aaron needs it."

"Sure. I'll sort it. Go to the shop on Tuesday or Friday and tell Brett-the one who does the book, no one else-how much you need. He'll transfer the money from your account. He'll just give a total to the guy who supplies at the end of the day, and he'll take stuff to that value. Neat, huh?"

"Will he give it to me straight away?"

"h.e.l.l no, but you'll get it soon enough." A couple of guards come into the gym, and we get back to our weights.

I follow Neil's instructions, and the next day, when I'm on duty in the kitchen, Stephen-a skinny little kid I know only by sight-leans on the bench next to me. He talks like we're great mates, and as he turns to go, he slaps me lightly on the chest. I finish wiping down the bench and then step back to check out what happened, scratching my chest near my pocket. Yep, two b.u.mps at the bottom of it. I'm nervous, but I carry on as normal, working and chatting till my duty is over and I'm back in our cell. Aaron's in the rec with Neil. We've agreed that he isn't to be here on his own.

I glue a couple of pages of notes together around the edges, leaving the top open, and then I drop the pills in. I slide the pages into the middle of the rest of my notes and then paper clip them all together. Aaron comes in a few minutes later, and I feel his agitation. Neil must have said something. b.u.g.g.e.r. He should have kept his mouth closed.

"Hi," I say, turning back to my book.

"Luca," he says. I look and see him fidgeting with the edge of his blanket.

"What's up?"

"I know you got some stuff for me."

"I said I would." I hand him the pills, and he looks at them lying in his curled palm like fat white slugs. He licks the corner of his mouth, not taking his eyes off the pills as though they'll disappear if he looks away for an instant. Finally, he raises his eyes to meet mine.

"Here," he says, handing me one back. "Keep this for another time." I take it wordlessly and go back to my books. I hear the creak of Aaron's bunk, and once his breathing slows down, I slide the other pill back in its spot. I don't know what this stuff is, and I don't want to know, but I won't judge him for taking it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE.