KNOWING

Drena Hills

“It ain’t what they call you, it’s what you answer to.”

- Will Rogers

My first thought was he has Hawkin’s eyes.

He was young, perhaps 13, but as it is difficult to judge the age of children grown in time of war I could not be sure.

His eyes were older, but then they would be. But there was something more there, an assurance, a boldness, a natural canniness that refused to acknowledge the pain I knew the cane breaking across his back was creating.

There was pride too, he stared straight ahead and would not lower his eyes or close them as he endured the beating.

I felt an odd kinship with him as the sound of wood connecting with bones and flesh greeted my ears and made me recoil from memories now 40 years removed.

I had once stood where he stood and when our eyes met, I knew he knew that.

“What is the meaning….”

The man inflicting the punishment turned angrily at my unannounced entrance. His eye was beginning to turn black and I realized the boy had not accepted his fate without a fight, which explained why he was being held by a second man.

No this young man would never go quietly, he was too alive.

“Sir they did not tell me…” the man sputtered moving to block my view of the boy, who managed to squirm interested and keep eye contact with me. He was trying to find a way to use me to free himself. It didn’t show, but I knew. I had known Hawkins after all.

I am rather pleased at being old and renown. It gives me a certain power that almost makes up for my youth. I am also told I look distinguished and I suppose in my Bond Street London tailoring, standing there giving my best impression of being dignified I was rather daunting. It was a moment I savored, as my past swirled around me and I knew I had come full circle.

I decided I owed the boy if for no other reason than that.

“Headmaster,” I greeted removing my top hat.

My handlers had objected to these little tours. The homes, the hospitals for the insane, the prisons, the reform schools, but humored me in the hope it might translate into an idea that would bring them their percentage in due time.

“I was told you would be here this afternoon,” the headmaster said pulling on his jacket and running a hand across what hair was left.

“I am an early riser,” I smiled and let the headman introduce himself and his flunkey.

“And you young man, what is your name?” I said taking the seat I was offered.

“Hannibal Heyes sir,” the boy said and pulled free of the grasp still holding him as he did.

I swallowed a smile, “And are you as your namesake?”

He gave me a faint smile back and I found myself liking him. He would allow that, but not pity. We understood each other.

“I like to think so sir,” he answered and this time he did smile and I was startled at how it transformed him. This one had charm, I wondered if he would survive it.

The headmaster twitched to other man to indicate the boy should be removed.

I rose as he passed and offered my hand, “A pleasure to meet you Mr. Heyes.”

He took it and this time I was able to read his eyes and the gratitude there touched me.

******************************

They hate that I prefer to walk the grounds alone. Oh they follow, or hover, as I prefer to call it, but I refuse to be directed and maneuvered. I will see how things are, as they really are. La, it does drive them mad though.

I had for the moment alluded my shadows and come to rest in a small hallway where to my surprise and interest I was in time to see a young man climb up the laundry shoot.

He was fair, perhaps 10 or 11, the baby face made it difficult to judge and when he saw me the blue eyes were as innocent as angels, but I knew in an instant where I had seen them before.

“Mr. Heyes’s brother?” I queried politely.

He blinked surprised. “No sir cousin.”

‘Ah yes that would explain the extreme difference in coloring, eyes are the same.”

He looked at me like I was mad.

“Checking on him?” I asked.

He studied me, cocking his head slightly at my British accent.

“You’re that fella all the fuss is about,” he said.

“Oh dear caused a fuss did I?”

“Yea, me and my cousin was gonna leave and they did a surprise bed check and caught us.”

“And why would my arrival demand you stay? It has always been my observation such places as these prefer to lose children rather than hold them.”

“Count, they get $50 a year to feed us. Wanted all the bodies they could so that they got the full allowance for the next year.”

“Well then I do apologize. Did you see your cousin?”

“No I guess they caught on we would visit each other down the chute.”

“Happens a lot?”

“Mostly to me,” the boy confessed. He had an easy likeable disposition and a confidence without airs I found appealing.

He should have come across vulnerable considering his coloring and circumstances, but he had the same pride and assurance of his kin and I found myself talking to him as a contemporary.

“I got a temper, Heyes usually can talk his way out of punishment, but he covered for me and they only caught him.”

I could tell how much this bothered him, but could also hear the pride in his voice when he discussed his friend. They were close and I guessed all each other had.

“I saw him in the office,” I explained introducing myself and learning his name was Jedediah Curry.

“Did they…” he swallowed.

“Unable to finish due to my arrival,” I comforted.

“Means I gotta get to him, he ain’t ate since yesterday and a beating or even half a beating ain’t gonna help it.”

I could see he counted not being fed as something that even surpassed the cane.

“Well since my arrival was the cause of all this Jedediah let us see what I can due to rectify the situation. Which way is the kitchen?”

He looked at me as if deciding whether to trust me and then nodded, “Thank you sir.”

As I expected my staff was waiting there and quickly rose to their feet on my order to bring the lunch basket.

“Sir the dining room…” the house cook said trying to steer me out of the kitchen.

“Is lovely I am certain, but I prefer something with a little more interesting company. Jedediah where exactly is this cellar?”

Grinning at their faces, and I confess I had to swallow the smile I was fighting, Jedediah led me down the steps where I instructed the man following behind us to unlock the door.

He was babbling horribly so I merely shooed him away and taking the basket I ushered Jed into the room and shut the door in his face.

The smell of coal and dampness wrapped around me and drew me back to another world where I had been the child huddled in the corner attempting to ignore my pain and my hunger.

“Jed!” Hannibal said. The sight of his cousin brought him to life. It was clear the younger boy supplied his will to survive and keep going and I was touched at the tender greeting and jealous I had never had someone care so for me.

“Got food, how bad you hurt?” Jedediah said checking him over and I sensed the younger boy was just as protective as his older cousin.

“Not bad, this gentleman interrupted them,” Hannibal smiled. “Thank you sir.”

“My pleasure, I spent many a time being so inflicted and it warms my heart to rescue a fellow sufferer.”

“You sure talk funny,” Jedediah said forcing his cousin sit and pouring him a drink of water. It was clear he presumed Hannibal would lie to him on how bad he was hurt and they both accepted the subtle way he found out for certain how hurt he was.

Talk just like his books,” Hannibal smiled.

“Oh you have read my books?” I said amused and interested.

“Heyes reads everything,” Jedediah said and it was clear he didn’t understand his friend’s fascination.

I tucked this bit of information away touched, “Now supper I think,” I smiled pulling out the contents of the basket and improvising a picnic in the gloom.

The two boy’s eyes grew wide as I unwrapped the huge ham sandwiches.

“I died and went to heaven,” Jedediah said. “This whole sandwich is for me?”

“If you can eat it all,” I smiled.

“He can,” Hannibal said dryly and took his with equal wonder.

Laughing I watched them devour the contents of the basket. It did my heart joy to see their enthusiasm and gratefulness, which they showed with a dignity I admired.

I think I healed a little bit that day just watching them.

“So how come?” Hannibal said finally sated. “Why here?”

“This is my second visit to your country,” I smiled. “I came before your civil war.”

“No, I mean why the school for waywards?” Hannibal pressed, my actions confused him and he didn’t like being confused.

“Like most travelers, I prefer to meet people like me when I go abroad.”

The two of them took this in thoughtfully.

“Orphan?” Jedediah asked.

“Eventually. I lived in a debtor’s prison until I was 12 and then was sold into indenture at a factory to help pay my father’s debts.”

“Must have been rough,” Jedediah said and he did not offer me pity, but his friendship for the trust I had shown in sharing with him. I had the feeling that could be a most valuable thing to possess coming from a man like him.

“Just like your books, all that stuff you wrote about, happened to you?” Hannibal asked.

“Some.”

“The rest you get from people you meet,” Heyes said understanding. “Hey maybe you can put me and Jed in a book, how you like that Jed, make you famous!”

“Me?” Jedediah said rolling his eyes. “I’ll settle for us getting out of this lunch without a beating.”

“I could speak to the headmaster?” I said.

“Thanks, but were in for it after you leave any which way you look at it,” Hannibal sighed.

“It was worth if for the apple dumpling,” Jedediah said dreamily and I laughed with his cousin.

“So where were you and your cousin running away to?” I asked liking them both. They made me think of a time when I too thought anything was possible.

“West, gonna make our fortunes,” Hannibal said and I believed him.

“How old are you two?”

“Just turned 15. Jed is 13.”

“Rather young.”

“Won’t keep me much longer either ways,” Hannibal said matter of factly.

“And you won’t leave your cousin,” I finished for him.

“We’re partners,” Jedediah said proudly.

“All the family we got left,” Hannibal said brushing the sentiment from it as he said it.

“Isn’t the quantity, it’s the quality,” I replied. “I wish I could do something to help you boys, I hate to think when I leave you will be worse off.”

Hannibal Heyes smiled at me. It was then I realized he was more than Hawkins would ever have been. This was a mind quick and sharp and imaginative. To this young man nothing would be impossible.

“Well sir maybe you can…”

**********************************

I am always amused at how relieved people are to see me leave from such places. I was practically pushed into my private stage by the headmaster eager to see the back of me and I knew by my valet’s glance Mr. Heyes’s plan was proceeding.

I did not linger on the goodbye, but bid my driver leave at all haste. I wanted to be gone before the alarm went up.

“Jedediah? Hannibal?” I called after we were safely away and was rewarded with two heads peering down at me from the roof.

Laughing I invited them in and they were soon seated across from me their faces bright with hope.

“Are you sure I cannot take you further than the train station?” I asked.

“No sir, we can hop a boxcar and be on our way west by morning,” Hannibal said and all ready his mind was working out the details.

“If you are certain,” I said. “But we have time till we arrive, why don’t you rest.”

“Jed’s way ahead of you,” Hannibal grinned and I realized his cousin was asleep against the side of the carriage.

“You take good care of him,” I said.

“We take care of each other,” he corrected. “Jed says I dream to much, forget to watch my back. I guess it’s the way our folks died,” he added softly. “He can’t get the fear out of him someone will do the same to me.”

“You both will do fine,” I said and prayed I was telling the truth.

“I hope so. Headmaster said I was born to trouble, just a no good and would never be anything worthwhile.”

“Ah but he doesn’t know.”

He looked at me, “Know?”

“A man once told me he had survived poverty and pain because of the knowing who he really was. You know who you are Hannibal Heyes, nobody can take that away from you.”

He straightened a bit and smiled, “Yea, I do.” And then impishly added. “So you working on a new book?”

“I am, a mystery.”

“Can I read some of it?”

“Hannibal I have not even shown my publisher the first chapter.”

“Yea, but I ain’t your publisher, I’m one of the public, one of your readers,” he said haughtily. “Without me where would you be?”

I laughed heartily, “You are a hard man to refuse Mr. Heyes,” I said and turned a stack of paper over to him. “I would value your opinion.”

When he looked up a while later I could tell I had hooked him.

“So how does it end?”

“How do you think it ends?”

He told me and I nodded impressed.

“So how does it really end?”

“You just told me,” I laughed. “But we shall keep the mystery of Mr. Drood our secret eh?”

He grinned and leaning back slowly drifted off too sleep.

********************************

“Sir,” Jedediah said offering his hand as I heard the train whistle its approach.

“A pleasure Mr. Curry,” I said.

“I’m gonna try and read one of your books,” he promised and then glared at his cousin when he laughed.

“Thank you,” Hannibal said offering his hand as Jedediah moved down to the track to catch the train headed west that would slow for the curve.

“A pleasure, here something for your journey,” I said attempting to hand him the money in my hand.

“No thank you sir, couldn’t, not after all you’ve done.”

“Pride is for fools, not people like us, your cousin will be hungry later,” I said using the one thing I knew would break him.

He grinned at my treachery and took the money.

“Good luck Hannibal, don’t ever forget who you really are no matter what happens.”

“I’ll remember, good luck with your story Mr. Dickens.”

And flashing that grin once more, he was gone.

Historical Note:

Charles Dickens visited the United States twice, once in the 1840’s and again in 1867. He made it a point to visit hospitals for the insane, reform schools and orphanages. His crusade for the poor and oppressed through his writing and personal support was legendary. He never forgot his years living as a child in debtor’s prison and being alone in the world at 12 years old.

His last book ‘The Mystery of Edwin Drood’ was not completed before he died in 1870. It would seem now; at least one person knew how it ended though!