She’s also much friendlier than the other Blanks generally are. Now that Douglas is gone, I think she’s probably the nicest one.
I stand up and walk across the room as William’s noises get louder. I pretend I’m just looking out the window at the frosty fields next to The Heath where the horses are, then I lean closer to him.
‘You need to stop,’ I murmur very quietly under the sound of the TV playing some Stoke-approved kids’ show.
He doesn’t answer. Just makes more noises. I sigh.
‘I know it’s hard,’ I try, ‘but they’re going to keep doing what they’re doing to you until you start doing what they want. There are rules here, and they’ll make you follow them. The corrections will get worse.’
He ignores me, and I roll my eyes. I shouldn’t have bothered. It’s like he’s not even hearing me.
There have been other adults and teens like William over the years. They come and go. Not everyone stays at the Heath for the long haul. Just me, I think, and I’ve never seen anyone here under thirteen. I’ve been here the longest.
I glance at Janet again. She’s glancing between the still completely oblivious Philip and William, but she isn’t doing anything. She hasn’t scolded William, or given out a demerit, or zapped him. I wonder if I should chance talking to her. It’s clear, at least to me, that she isn’t the same as the others. She doesn’t fit the pattern I know.
I look outside again. The horses are playing. I need to get outside at least. I need to run. And I can’t do any more for William. At least, not until I get this place closed down for good, maybe send a letter to his mother detailing what I’ve seen so she never puts him somewhere like this again.
Maybe that would be enough…
I walk back to my seat and doodle some more before taking out a coloring book and slowly beginning to fill it in. My mind rages against this meaningless busywork, especially without the space-out pills, but it’s necessary. Despite being useless, I need to show the Blanks that I’m a good little resident, and then I’ll hopefully get my privileges back.
I hear purposeful footsteps and Crewes saunters into the room, his eyes zeroing in on William, who’s still making noise, and narrowing to slits. He tuts at Janet and Philip.
‘You’re supposed to zap him when he makes too much noise,’ he admonishes, bringing out his buttons and finding the right one.
‘You bloody do it then,’ Philip says without looking up from his phone. ‘I’m busy.’
I watch Janet intently and see her eyes widen a fraction as Crewes separates one of the buttons from the rest.
William lets out a mule-like bray as his body quivers with the shock. He’s then admonished by Crewes for making noises and told to keep quiet. Janet turns and leaves the room slowly, pretending she’s not fleeing.
Maybe she’s horrified like any decent person would be.
After a moment, I follow.
I don’t see her in the hallway and I wonder if she’s gone to the bathroom to compose herself. I step into the ladies’ room, and, sure enough, she’s there, looking at herself in the mirror and muttering something to her reflection. When she sees me, her expression shutters.
‘Are you all right, Marguerite?’ she asks.
I tilt my head at her. Yes, I don’t think she liked what she just saw Crewes do.
‘You don’t belong here,’ I say.
She blanches, then covers it quickly. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘You’re not like the others,’ I say. ‘You’re not really a Blank.’
‘A Blank?’ she asks. ‘An orderly, you mean? Of course I am!’
‘You’re not like the others,’ I say again. ‘I can tell.’
Her lips purse. ‘I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about. Shouldn’t you be in your chair drawing pictures?’
‘Why are you here?’ I ask, ignoring her silly question. ‘You could tell me the truth, you know. No one would believe me anyway, even if I did blab.’
She says nothing, just starts washing her hands, and my eyes narrow.
‘Or maybe,’ I continue, ‘I go tell Stoke that you haven’tbeen doing your job. You haven’t zapped anyone, or given any demerits that I’ve seen. That might be enough for him to look closer and see that you aren’t meant to be here.’
