Count On Me ➵ Newt [1]

THIRTEEN | chuck

▬A loud, ringing sound resonated through the air, making the ground tremble slightly, the grass blades vibrating along with the motion. 

I rushed out of the Homestead and towards the metal doors in ground, where other Gladers were running towards as well, and joined the idling crowd as we waited for the Box to come up. I wondered what the new Greenie would look like.

Newt pushed through the crowd and joined my side, and we gave each other small smiles in greeting. We held hands as we waited, shoulders brushing against each other as the wind ruffled our hair and shirts. A few minutes passed and finally, the obnoxious ringing stopped. Alby and Nick pulled open the metal doors in the ground with grunts and peered into it.

Nick jumped into the Box and a moment later, I heard him yell out: "It's a kid!"

Mummurs went up from the crowd immediately - I heard snippets of stuff like:

"A kid? What the klunk?"

"You're the klunk, you klunk-face."

"I pity which slinthead Keeper's gonna get the green bean."

"A kid?" Newt echoed in obvious disbelief beside me. He went forward to see and I followed him, curiousity egging me on.

We looked into the Box, and sure enough, a short, chubby boy who looked to be around thirteen years old was staring up at us with wide, terrified eyes. His brown, curly locks of hair bounched around as his head swivelled left and right to take in our faces and expressions.

"W-Who are you people?" He stammered, his voice a mere squeak.

"We call ourselves the Gladers," Nick responded. "Don't worry, we'll explain everything to you later. What's your name, Greenie?"

"Charles," the boy said. "But you can call me Chuck," he added quickly. "What's a 'Greenie'?"

Nick ignored his question and held out a colloused hand. Chuck hesitated a mere second before letting him pull him out the Box. The poor boy struggled to bring his stubby legs over, his short arms shaking, and the other Gladers snickered and nudged each other as malicious smirks slithered into their faces. I glared pointedly at them, but they didn't seemed to notice or care.

Chuck dusted his shirt and when he straightened, his eyes widened as stared around him in awe, not seemingly realizing that everyone was smirking at him. His gaze landed on the Homestead, the Bloodhouse, the Maze walls and his mouth started to open-

"Not so fast, Greenie," Alby interrupted him sharply. "Like Nick over there said, we'll explain everything to you during the tour. So shut your mouth and don't ask anything unless we allow you to, alright?"

Chuck pouted, making his already puffy cheeks puffier, but nodded.

"Good that. Everybody else, get back to work! Those vegetables aren't going to grow themselves! And those toilets are looking mightily dirty - someone oughta clean them!"

The crowd slowly dissipated, a few Gladers shaking their heads and muttering among themselves. Some of them even looked disappointed with the new arrival. I went back to the Homestead with the other Med-jacks, sure that Chuck would be fine in Nick and Alby's hands.

That night, I attended the small meeting that Alby held. It was short and brief - Alby basically just informed us that Chuck was to start his working experience with us the next day after the tour, starting with Frypan, then Zart, then me, and so on.

When I went out the Homestead, I spotted Chuck huddling in a corner of the Glade near the forest, looking scared and lonely. All the other Gladers either ignored him or sneered at him, and the poor boy's face was wrinkled with misery as he rocked back and forth.