Into The WICKED Maze | A Maze Runner Story (English Version)

38. The little boy

A few minutes later we made our way to Fry Pan. Only now did I remember that I hadn't even seen the Greenie. When we got near the kitchen, however, his presence was unmistakable. Loud laughter could be heard and I could recognise Gally's voice.
At first I didn't understand what exactly was going on there, but when we reached the cluster of gladers that had formed and a few of them made way for us, we were treated to an incredible sight.
I couldn't help but put my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing out loud immediately and I could hear Newt giving a stifled snort. In front of us, a rotund boy who couldn't have been older than 12 sat in the middle of a pile of plates and food that had obviously still been meant to be eaten. Fry Pan stood there with his mouth open, staring at the boy in complete bewilderment. Gally seemed to be the one laughing the loudest of all, as he stood leaning forward with his hands on his knees, turning bright red. His all stupid builders stood with him and seemed to be laughing only because their keeper was laughing, for nothing but blankness could be read on their faces.
Are they really as stupid as they always look?
When no one even made an effort to do anything, I decided to help the boy, who would burst into tears in a few seconds, that much was certain. I knelt down next to him and, still amidst the laughter of the builders - the others who had a bit more gumption had pulled themselves together by now - tried to save as much as I could. Fry Pan started to help too, but I could see from the look on his face that we wouldn't be able to eat this anymore.
It wasn't long before Newt was also picking up plates and trying to salvage the mess that had been our dinner just a few minutes ago. The little boy was excitedly trying to help us with shaking hands. Minho and Ben, who had apparently returned from the forest, crouched down next to me and helped, too, and soon Clint and Jeff were with us as well. Gally still hadn't calmed down and the other gladers still standing around us were ones I hardly ever talked to. I couldn't see Nick, Alby, Winston or even Zart at all and our runners weren't there either.
"Leave it, we can't save this," Fry Pan said after a few minutes, resignedly dropping a plate into the slurry of food. I could well imagine how he felt, after all, he had prepared the whole thing and was guaranteed to put in the effort.
"So that's for sure, kid, you have no business in the kitchen." Gally was still snorting and slowly enough was enough.
"It's slow enough, don't you think, Gally? He certainly didn't do it on purpose."
"Well, that would be even better." He just wouldn't stop laughing at the boy, in whose eyes I could now see tears.
I didn't think twice, but stood up, cleared my things of food remnants as best as I could, and then held out a hand to help him up. He took it and looked at me gratefully. I gave Newt a prompting look and he too patted his food before we disappeared with the boy. As we walked past Gally I gave him an angry look that silenced him.
"Think nothing of it, Gally sometimes doesn't think before he says things. And his builders have nothing but straw in their heads. Come on, let's get cleaned up first, what do you say?" I asked, smiling at him.
He beamed up at me admiringly and nodded with shining eyes.
"Thank you for helping me." His voice sounded childlike and confused me for a moment; after all, I hadn't heard anything but boys at or after voice change in the last three years.
It was then that I suddenly realised that Minho and I had been here for three years to the day today. I wondered if he had thought about it today too, but there was no time to think philosophically about it now.
We reached the lake and I started to take off my top and trousers to wash them before entering the water myself. Newt did the same and we didn't worry about it, after all, the whole thing was routine for us, even if we didn't usually have to wash any leftover food off us.
As I was already washing my hair, I noticed the little boy standing indecisively on the shore watching us.
"What are you waiting for?" I called out and he seemed to come out of some kind of trance as he looked around sheepishly.
"No one's looking, don't worry," Newt said and the boy now started to clean the dirt off his clothes and himself, too.
"I'm Anna, by the way."
We had laid down on the grass to dry off and looked up at the now almost dark sky where the first stars were rising.
"I know, Alby told me. You are the keeper of the runners, just like Minho, the Asian boy. I don't think I'd like to be a runner. The maze looks dangerous."
He sounded admiring, but also afraid. I couldn't help but think he was cute. My protective instinct had been aroused since he had sat there in the middle of the meal and been laughed at by the boys around Gally. I still felt angry with my best friend when I thought about how scared the little boy had squatted there.
"You don't have to be. Maybe you can help at the fields, or Clint and Jeff..."
"I sure don't. I don't think I'm good at that sort of thing..." He sounded sad.
"I'm sure you are. Just because the kitchen might not be for you doesn't mean you're not good at anything else, besides, Fry Pan prefers to work alone anyway, right, Newt?"
My friend grunted beside me in agreement.
"You don't have to be a slicer, it's really not a nice job. But I'm sure you can take good care of the animals or something."
The boy didn't look convinced. "Alby said today that I might just be able to help out all over the place, carrying stuff and all. A slopper, he called it. You don't have someone like that yet and I think I can do that best. Unfortunately I can't remember anything, but I'm certainly not a good builder."
I turned on my side and smiled at him. "We'll see about that. I'm sure you'll find the right thing to do that you'll enjoy."
He nodded, more or less convinced. We just lay there for a while longer, looking at the sky, which now had thousands of stars in it. At some point, when our clothes were already dry again and the boy had fallen asleep, snoring softly, Newt and I decided it was time to go to bed. We got dressed, even though we were about to change again anyway, and I gently woke the little boy.
Together we made our way to the hammocks, where no one was asleep yet. Only now did I remember the monthly feast that always took place when a newbie arrived. Distantly, by the campfire you could see the silhouettes of the gladers and I could make out Gally fighting some other boy as usual.
Newt once again showed the boy his hammock, which he couldn't find again on his own, before we wished him a good night and disappeared into Newt's hut.
"I'm really worried he's going down here. He's the youngest by far..." I began worriedly as I put on my sleeping clothes.
Newt was already sitting on his bed, shirtless, watching me. I could tell that was the last thing on his mind right now, but I just had to get my thoughts out, I couldn't concentrate on anything else before that.
"He'll find his place. Alby's right, we always need a helper everywhere. As long as he doesn't get much to do with Gally, I guarantee he'll be happy with it."
"But he's still so young. Much younger than we were before we got here."
"Steve, for example, wasn't older than 15 either, you said so yourself, just like Stan was then. And Jack isn't sixteen yet either, I'm sure." Newt shrugged and spread his arms so I could finally get over to him.
"No one's ever been that young, Newt. You know that. And I'm really worried that he won't make a connection here..." I sat down next to him and leaned against him.
He wrapped his arms around me.
"Well, he still has you then, right?"
And when I looked at him piercingly, he added: "And me, of course, when you're not here. We'll look after him all right. Gally will be careful not to say anything about him again after the look on your face today."
He grinned and winked at me.
The look he was giving me now achieved exactly what it was supposed to, as I finally pushed aside thoughts of the still nameless boy and put my arms around his neck before kissing him.
36 months.