A Time And Place

Chapter 1

As if I were escaping the unimaginable holocaust that had been my life to this point, I should've felt a sense of joy to be getting away from life with my thrashing father, his wife, Sue, and my brother, who'd abused and bullied me all my life. But, instead, I was filled with intense apprehension and uncertainty. The emotional dread that my life was going to once again get worse, which it consistently had in the thirteen years I'd been alive, coupled with the fact that, as a typical human being, I was a creature of familiarity made the long ride from Long Island to Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania seem like an endless trek into hell.

This, being forced out of my comfort zone, no matter how uncomfortable that comfort zone actually was, was cruel and unusual in my eyes. Though it was only one hundred and sixty miles away, which is far, they'd sent me halfway around the world the way I saw it. And yes, as I said, I should've been, at the very least, elated at the prospect of being out of the house I'd suffered in for so long. But the prospect of having to start a new life in a boarding school was, and would still be, a bit much for any kid to come to terms with. So, naturally, when we crossed the little bridge at the entrance, and drove up and saw Jackie Hall, one of the dorm staff standing in the doorway, waiting for me, immediately, "Hotel California" began going through my mind. Then, I was alone there.

As quickly as they could, driving away as if they were the New York Yankees, celebrating on a championship parade route, my father and Sue just upped and left. There were mutually no tearful goodbyes or well wishes, only the sight of Sue, seemingly jumping for joy as their car disappeared down the hill from the dormitory. So what could I do, other than unpack, wondering where the other students were, hoping that maybe it wouldn't be as bad as I'd already made up my mind it was going to be?

As it would turn out, the "Brandywine Campus" of "The Devereux Foundation" had only come together a couple of weeks earlier. Students from two separate campuses, "The Academy," and "Gateway" had been paired on this campus so that the Gateway property could be sold. That meant there was a little advantage for me.

With the student body having been together for only a couple of weeks I wasn't the only new face. In fact, at least half the students were all new to each other, like fish thrown in a new aquarium, establishing territory. At that, they'd actually taken all but two of the students out on field trips that day as a form of stress relief from the status jockeying that had apparently been going on. So, as each group returned, I wasn't going to suddenly face everyone all at once, but rather a few at a time, which was nice, as I suffer from social anxiety. Then came the time that I met my roommates.

My dorm room had four beds. Right next to me there was Chris, a long-haired, blond fifteen-year-old who looked exactly like "Leif Garrett. I mean, even the dorm staff wondered out loud if they'd been identical twins, separated at birth, which Chris hated, flying into violent rages anytime anyone mentioned it. So, right off the bat, I respected that boundary. Next to him was Eddie, a four-foot nothing, lite-skinned black kid with a severe as fuck Napolean complex. He reminded me of "Tanner," from "The Bad News Bears," and made me laugh like I'd never really laughed before. So, right away, I liked him. Then there was Tony, who was from West Philadelphia and swore, "Sugar Ray Leonard '' was his cousin. The only problem with that was, the first night I'm there he gets in a fist fight with Rob, who was from the rivaled South Philadelphia, and he gets his face bashed in. And right away, everyone, with the exception of me and maybe a couple of kids, is busting the guy's balls about it.

Personally, I had empathy for the guy, knowing what it's like to take a beating and have to get teased about it. So, I never once so much as looked at the melon-sized welt over his left eye, even when he got mad because, in his opinion, I was racist. But what was I going to say, that I wouldn't look him in the eye to keep me from laughing about the colossal beating he'd taken?