CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

That evening, as I lay in bed with an empty white sheet of paper before me, I tried to begin the letter. Outside, a storm was throwing rain heavily against the house. After a while, without having written a word, I got up from the bed and went out into the hallway. I stopped at Miles' door and put my ear against it to see what I could hear. I listened for any sign that he might be awake. Although I guessed he would not be sleeping, I did not expect what then happened. His voice came to me through the door, "Please, come inside."

I opened the door and found Miles sitting up in bed. He was smiling at me, "What are you doing up at this late hour?" he asked.

I thought to myself that if Mrs Grose had been there, she would have felt that there was no problem between Miles and me.

"What made you guess that I was standing outside of your door?" I asked.

"I could hear you. You thought you were being quiet, but really, you sounded like an army of men walking down the hall."

"So, you've been awake this whole time?"

"Yes, I usually stay up late and think for a while."

I set the candle down at the table next to his bed, and sitting myself on the corner of the bed, asked, "What kind of things do you think about?"

"Of course, I think of you."

"I appreciate your thoughts, but I'd much prefer that you get better sleep."

"But I also think about this trouble between us."

I took his hand into mine, and found that it felt very cold. "What trouble between us?"

"Oh, you know. Troubles about my school and everything."

"Everything?" I said.

"Yes. The things we talked about before."

I did not answer right away, although I felt that the longer I was silent, the more he would feel that I recognize the problem that he had mentioned. "Of course, you will return to school. However, we need to find a better school for you. The one you went to before was not good enough. You never mentioned anything about your school before, so I could not know that it made you so upset."

At that moment, the boy's face looked more like an angel than ever before. And the feeling came over me that I had to do whatever I could to save him.

"Why did you never talk about your school before?"

He sat silent for a moment and then said, "I never did?"

Both his voice and his face seemed to show that he really was surprised to hear this. I could not tell if he was truly trying to remember or if he was trying to think of a lie to explain his behavior.

"Since I met you, you never once said anything about it. I don't know any of the names of your teachers or friends there. I never heard any stories about the place. I know nothing. Up until this morning, I had thought you were happy with the situation here."

Just then, I saw his face turn a little red. With a slow turn of his head, he said, "I'm not happy. I need to leave."

"You don't like this house?"

"Yes, I do."

"What is wrong then?"

"I am a young boy, and you know how young boys are. You know what they need."

Of course, I did not know exactly what young boys needed. "So you want to live with your uncle?"

"It's not that simple. You can't just send me away to him and just continue your work here."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you have done something wrong, and you can't expect not to be punished."

"Punished? I realize that I've made mistakes, but I don't think punishment is necessary."

"But you must tell my uncle exactly what you have done. You must tell him you kept me here instead of sending me back to school. You must write him and ask him to come so that everything can be made clear."

"And don't you think he will have many questions for you, Miles? Isn't there a lot for you to tell him about yourself? And don't you think the result will be sending you away from here?"

"But that is what I want. I want to be sent away from here. What kinds of things do you think I have to tell him about?"

"You should tell him things that you won't tell me. You can't return to your school ... "

"Good! I have no desire to return there. I want to go to a different school!" He said this very happily. It made me feel more sorry for him than ever before. And I immediately took him into my arms, saying, "Oh, poor boy. You poor boy."

He smiled as I kissed him, and seemed to be waiting for me to say something else. "So, dear woman?"

"Don't you want to tell me anything?" I asked.

He looked away from me and held up his hand to examine for a moment. "There is nothing more to say. I said it all today at the church."

"So, you want me to stop looking after you so closely."

He turned back toward me and very softly said, "I want you to leave me alone."

I let go of his hand and rose to my feet. I remained standing next to his bed, for I feared that leaving him now would mean losing him forever. "I've started to write to your uncle," I said.

"Go complete your writing then."

"Miles," I said gently, "Tell me what you did at school."

His eyes met mine and he repeated, "What I did?"

For a moment, I felt that he was surely innocent and that I now had an opportunity to help him. I acted immediately. "My poor Miles, poor poor Miles. You must understand that I'm very worried about you. You need help. It might seem often like I'm spending too much time with you and watching over you too closely, but I must do this. I don't mean to upset or bother you. I'm just trying to help." I then decided to take a chance and go further, "And now, I need you to help me help you!"

Then I realized I made a mistake and said too much. Suddenly, a huge cold wind blew through the room, and I could hear Miles scream very loudly. I could not tell whether his scream was from pleasure or fear. I quickly stood up and, looking about the room, saw that the windows were closed. The room was completely dark now.

"Miles, the candle has been blown out!"

"Yes, I know. I put it out myself!" the boy answered.

(end of section)