Sunday, 11 November 2012

Chapter 2

Early next morning, Dennis was woken from his sleep once again by the ward shook. Unlike many of the other orphans, Dennis did not put any posters onto the walls of his dorm room. He had few possessions and they all fit into a single suitcase he could carry with the strength of one arm. The suitcase lay beside the bed, next to his shoes.
Dennis got up quietly. He slept in his outdoor clothes because the matron had told him to have everything packed in the evening, including his pajamas, he guessed. The ward went out of his room to wait outside as Dennis made his bed for the last time and followed the ward out of his former dorm room. Dennis did not look back before the ward closed and locked the door.
'The matron said you can do without breakfast, so have this.' The ward reached into the depth of his pocket and brought out an orange. He gave the orange to Dennis.
'Thank you, sir.' Dennis said.
'Just thank you is fine, don't call me a sir.' The ward replied.
'Thank you.' Dennis said. He pocketed the orange.
'Good, come along,' the ward led Dennis through the familiar hallways of the orphanage, to the double doors of the front entrance. Outside the front gates, a taxi was waiting right by the curb. 'The taxi’s paid for, it's going to take you to the Central Train Station, you'll have a guide from the academy waiting for you there, make sure you find him, because he has your train ticket.'
'Thank you.' Dennis said again, from his pocket he took out the orange the ward had given him and held it up, Thank you for this too.' He added.
The ward felt rather touched, he gave Dennis a slight pat on the back and ushered him through the double doors of the orphanage.
The early morning breeze rustled the firs and birches lining the street. Except for the taxi parked on the side of the road, there were no other cars on the street yet and the sidewalks were empty. The ward followed Dennis to the tall, iron gates and unlocked them, and Dennis walked out. The ward relocked the gates and stood on the inside of it, watching Dennis get into the taxi and shut the door. Dennis looked towards the ward and raised his hand in a farewell wave. 
The ward did the same, though he couldn't help but focus on Dennis' eyes, even until his face was masked by the light reflections on the taxi's windows, and even after that, until the taxi disappeared around the bend in the street. Only then did he go back into the orphanage to sound the morning wake-up bell.
Dennis ate the orange in the taxi. The taxi's radio was tuned to a jazz station. Hearing nothing but silence from his passenger, and being unaccustomed to this, because orphans all tend to be very talkative when they get adopted, the taxi driver - a middle-aged man with a short beard - turned around in his seat to take a good look at Dennis.
'Hey buddy, you're awfully silent back there, got something on your mind?' The driver asked curiously.
Without looking up, Dennis took out from his pocket the orange and said, 'Do you want to share an orange with me?'
The driver didn't know how to respond to such a strange request, he declined, 'Nah, I ate, but thanks.' He searched for something more to say while Dennis began to peel the orange carefully so not to spill and drops of juice onto the taxi's seat, 'You know, I've drove kids like you from that place plenty of times...to where you're getting adopted to, and I've never met a kid from the orphanage who isn't at least half a chatterbox, you sure are a special case, aren't you?'
Dennis thought about this, he said, 'I'm going to a boarding school, have you drove anyone to a boarding school before?'
'Hoy! No I haven't. Looks like you're a first.' The driver hooted, 'what's school you're getting sent to?'
'It's called the Scholar Academy of the Americas, very prestigious.'
'The Scholar Academy,' the driver exclaimed in surprise, 'Why that's no ordinary school! You need a good load of money to go there, how did you get that amount of money?'
'My mother wrote in her will that she saved some money for me to go there once I come of age at twelve, which I did two years ago, but the matron didn't let me go then, so she's letting me go now.'
The driver's eyes narrowed, 'So you're saying the matron should have sent you there two years ago...'
'Nope, that's only what the matron told me, I don't know what she meant by it.' Dennis replied.
'Well that's what's supposed to have happened!' The driver slammed his hands onto the steering wheel, 'The matron cheated you! You get that?'
Dennis shrugged.
'Don't you see? When your mum's will says you ought to go to this school when you're twelve, that's what ought to have happened! With these schools, you pay your tuition - money - on a yearly basis to the school, so when the matron kept you at the orphanage 'till now she was taking two years worth of tuition from you!'
Dennis nodded. He ate another slice of the orange.
'Tell you what, the matron, that slimy hag, what she did was fraud, you can sue her for that!'
Dennis thought about it, 'I don't think I know anything about suing someone.'
'Yeah, right you are,' the driver sighed, 'maybe someday, eh? Right now, just be glad you're out of that place and going to boarding school, eh?'
'Yeah,' Dennis nodded slowly. He finished the orange and pocketed the peel.
'Well, well, we're here,' the driver stopped the taxi, 'Good to have chatted with you, what's your name?'
'Dennis Raveley.' Dennis said.
'Well goodbye Dennis Raveley, best of luck finding your way.' The driver was about to introduce his name before parting with Dennis when to his surprise, Dennis spoke first. They made eye contact.
'You too. Goodbye, Bruce.' Dennis said. Then, suitcase in hand, he turned towards the endless sea of people moving into the great depot's wide arch entrances and disappeared.
Bruce stayed in a trance until the car behind him honked, snapping him back to awareness. He blinked, shook his head and moved his taxi along.
Inside the enormous station building, Dennis moved with a crowd of people, taking in the grand sight around him. He wondered how he was going to find the guide he was looking for in the midst of so many people.
That's when he noticed a giant white balloon the size of a minivan suddenly inflating some distance away near one of the ticket booth lines. Looking above the heads of other commuters, Dennis spotted the words engraved on the balloon: 'Dennis Raveley, if you see this come over here! –From the Scholar Academy'
Dennis smiled. It was a strange feeling seeing a giant balloon with his name on it, he couldn’t quite place it.

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