Survival School [alternate history] (Turn-of-the-Century Toughs)

Chapter Eight

From the Superintendent of the House of Transformation tothe High Master of the Second Landstead:

The most of those who are committed to us have but very little education, if I may except such as they have learned in the streets and alleys or by association with the lowest orders of beings. Their language is slang, and their inclinations in too many instances are bestial with little or no knowledge of the sacred cycle of time, and less, if any, of morality; they seem content with their condition, and have little ambition to improve it either morally, physically, or intellectually.

o—o—o

The beat of six drummers drifted through the window, one off-rhythm. Frowning, Bat glanced through the window of the waiters' serving area. The chapel bell having rung for dinner, six lines of boys were marching from the six family cottages, each led by a boy with a drum slung over his chest, tapping the particular rhythm of his cottage. Family Cottage Trustworthy's rhythm was off. It hadn't been off during the past few months, when Mordecai was their cottage's drummer. But now, as the Dozen Landsteads entered into the cold months of the oyster season, Mordecai had been transferred to the dining room to serve as a waiter. There was talk that he would be assigned duties as a domestic servant to Farmer Bennington and his wife; waiting at tables was preparation for that.

Bat sighed as he slipped on his white gloves. He had requested to be transferred to kitchen and dining-room duties at the same time as Mordecai, though it meant leaving the open skies and Trusty's daily advice. Oddly, he found he missed even more Trusty's quiet company. Bat wasn't sure why he'd asked for a transfer, except that waiting tables was widely considered to be one of the highest-ranked duties on campus, assigned only to well-behaved boys. Instinctively, he felt that Trusty would want him to climb as high as he could on this campus's ladder of service.

He winced as the gloves travelled over his skin. With the tunnel finished, schoolroom classes had finally resumed, though a rumor danced among the inmates that schooling was just temporary, until the inmates were needed to help with the building of a new granary on the farm. In the meantime, the Little Dorm took classes with Family Cottage Honorable, while the Big Dorm crowded the schoolroom of Family Cottage Cleanly. Clearly relieved to be assigned the smaller class, the Teacher of Family Cottage Honorable dealt justly with the boys.

But "justly," for a master, meant punishments if you did your work wrong. Bat's hands were still stinging from six strikes of the Teacher's cane, after he failed to remember the exact year, more than two millennia ago, when the Dozen Landsteads' founding fathers had made landfall in the New World.

Now Bat realized that he had let himself drift away into daydreams, as he so often did in the schoolroom. Mordecai discreetly nudged him, and Bat quickly turned to take a tray from the Cook, who was supervising the distribution of food. Bat had spent the afternoon chopping vegetables in the kitchen; unlike harvesting vegetables, which required a certain amount of thought, chopping vegetables gave him all too much time to dwell in his mind on his past failures. He'd had to be reminded twice by the Cook – the second time with a swat on his seat – to keep his mind on his work.

Now – with an anxious glance at Mordecai, who always had difficulty keeping hold of the heavy trays – Bat walked into the masters' dining room.

It was adjacent to the servants' dining room, so that the Teachers, who had charge over the boys as they ate, could slip into the servants' dining room at their assigned times. Already, all the Teachers had finished their early meal, leaving the remainder of the staff to enjoy their dinner. Bat was surprised to see Farmer Bennington sitting at the table reserved for the Supervisor; Farmer Bennington usually ate at the farmhouse with his wife. Then Bat sighted the other end of the table and understood. Mastress Bennington, dutifully seeking to promote the House of Transformatory, often invited local neighbors to be her guests at the masters' dining room. Today she was hosting a portly man whom Bat recognized as the local veterinarian, as well as his nervous wife, who kept looking around, as though expecting an inmate to pounce upon her.