Chapter 2

Martin fumed all the way to the Suspension Room.  Anybody that has ever had suspension at the Carlton Academy for Boys will know that the walk to the suspension room is one of the longest walks of your life.  Having walked that particular walk multiple times myself, I can assure you that when you walk through the door, it feels like you are crossing the threshold to a new and terrible world.

I am sure that Martin felt this same phenomenon as he walked up to the desk of the short, bald man in charge.  “Martin Chatsworth reporting for out of school suspension, sir.”

The man crankily turned around in his chair.  “Welcome to hell, son. My name is Sergeant Ramey.  You may call me Sergeant Ramey.  Please find a seat and read over the following rules and procedures of OSS.” 

Retired Sergeant Jim Ramey was an intense man.  Nobody was ever quite sure of which war he fought in, exactly, but he frequently grumbled about it to himself.  In fact, aside from barking his ‘welcome to hell’ speech, muffled grumbles about the war were the only thing to ever leave his mouth. 

As Martin took his seat, he flipped through the pages of the rule book he had been given. 

 

THE RULES OF SUSPENSION

1.  While in suspension, there will be no talking to anyone.  For any reason.  Whatsoever.  This includes in the dormitories and cafeteria.

2.  If you need to use the restroom, get water, or have a special request, you may raise your hand and ask Sergeant Ramey when he acknowledges you.

3.  While in Out of School Suspension, you will wake up at 6am and report to the suspension room. 

4.  You will not make eye contact with, or in any way acknowledge the existence of your fellow classmates in suspension.

 

The list went on and on until rule 37b (During the 30 minute recreation period, you may not interact with anyone.  This includes team sports).  I have long suspected that Sergeant Ramey made this comprehensive list himself, for he seemed to know every one of the rules verbatim from memory.

The first night in suspension is a particularly bleak one.  Martin had never been in suspension, so he felt particularly alone.  The silence of the Suspension Room is enough to make your ears hurt.  But Martin pushed through it.

At 8:30, Sergeant Ramey led the seven boys in suspension in a single file line to the dining hall.  The last stragglers that were still eating quickly exited the hall, fearing the old superstition that eating with suspension kids was bad luck.

Most of the good food was already gone, so Martin walked out of the kitchen with a particularly chewy piece of roast beef, a small helping of mashed potatoes that had long since turned cold, and a generous helping of peas that tasted as though the cooks had never been introduced to seasoning.

As he walked into the main dining hall, Sergeant Ramey gave him a gruff reminder about Rule 19 (Students in suspension must eat alone at their own table).  Martin ate his food in silence, unable to shake the thought of the library from his mind.  It was too real to have been imagined, and yet it couldn’t have just disappeared.

At 10:07, after Martin had finished eating and cleaning the dining hall, the snake of a line wound its way all the way back to the dormitories.  Martin climbed into his bed silently, and went straight to sleep.  He had violent dreams that night.  Dreams of battles and betrayal.  But as soon as dawn came, they slipped back into the shadows of his subconscious. 

He reported for breakfast the next morning and drifted through the rest of the morning routine.  The monotony of a suspension morning is broken up pleasantly by a thirty minute recreation break.  It is pleasant, of course, for those people who enjoy walking in a circle around a basketball court, or trying to kick a ball without interacting with anyone else.

After this, came more waiting.  More sitting.  More silence.  Until suddenly, Martin Chatsworth raised his hand.  You could feel the tension shoot up with his hand, because for a few seconds, there would be noise in the suspension room. 

“Mr. Chatsworth.”

“I have to go to the bathroom, Sergeant Ramey.”

“Is there anyone currently occupying the lavatory, Mr. Chatsworth?”

“Not to my knowledge, Sergeant Ramey.”

“Then you may proceed.”

And that was it.  For thirteen and a half seconds, the boys in the suspension room were reminded what a human voice sounded like.  And then it was over.  As Martin stood up from his narrow desk and crossed in front of the room to the bathroom, he could feel the envious stares of the other inhabitants on him, jealous that he was afforded the opportunity to leave the room. 

For the second time in as many days, Martin made the mistake of assuming.  This time, he assumed that the bathroom would be a brightly lit room with tile floors, three stalls, two sinks, and a small mirror that seemed to always be fogged, no matter how hard you scrubbed it.

Instead, he found himself once more overwhelmed by the smell of dusty books and leather.  His eyes adjusted to the colored light cascading in, and he saw the old man standing before him.

“Welcome back, Mr. Chatsworth.”

Martin’s lips snarled downwards as he glared at the old man.  “Why are you here now?  Why weren’t you in the boathouse when the Headmaster walked in?”

“My dear boy,” the Librarian said.  “This library is where it is needed to be, when it is needed to be there.”

“I needed you to be there when I was showing the Headmaster.  I got suspension because you weren’t there!” he was nearly shouting, which is never a good idea in a library.  The Librarian never got a chance to respond, because suddenly there was a loud knock on the library door.

“Mr. Chatsworth, Rule 6b clearly states that bathroom trips must be limited to 7 minutes.  It has been 8.  Please exit the bathroom at this time.”

The librarian nodded.  “It’s time for you to go.  But don’t worry.  I’ll be expecting you again.”

Martin looked back and forth between the door and the old man, inwardly debating what to do next.  But finally fear of Sergeant Ramey won out.  He didn’t say goodbye to the old man as he exited the library, but he did take one last look.  For a split second, Martin thought he saw a tear on the cheek of the old man, but then he was gone, as was the entire library, and Martin was standing alone in the Suspension Room.  

The rest of Martin’s week in suspension passed with little excitement.  In fact, it passed with no excitement at all.  On the day he was allowed to return to school, Martin was forced to write a formal apology to Headmaster Sutton and start the arduous task of catching up in his classes. 

There was one good thing that Martin immediately missed about suspension.  There are no bullies in suspension.  But if you’ve ever been to the Carlton Academy for Boys, then you will know that bullies are as unavoidable as Mr. Bartholomew’s Economics class.  You may be able to escape its wrath for a little while, but eventually it always finds you and brings you to tears.

By second period, the whispers had started behind him.  Every time he went into a room, the kids would stare at him as if he had just interrupted a very interesting conversation.  All morning, Martin barely caught the faint end of hushed discussions, frequently catching the words “crazy,” and “library.” 

When he sat down in the dining hall, at his usual table with his usual friends, they were staring at him too.  Markus Tenzyk, a young man from out of the country patted him on the back and sat down next to him.

“It’s ok, mate.  They all just think you’re crazy because of some rumor going around.  They say you went into an imaginary library.  What a load of tosh.  It’ll pass.”

Martin shook his head.  “Markus, I did go into the library.  It’s real.”

Markus’ eyes widened in amazement.  “Don’t tell me you’re serious.  You actually believe you went into a magical library that disappeared when the headmaster looked in?”

Martin knew the idea sounded crazy, and yet he knew it was real.  By the end of the day, the other kids had stopped ending their conversations when Martin walked in the door.  They would just talk about him as if he were a bug on the wall, interesting to look at from afar, but easily squashed if it flew too close.  By the end of the week, Martin felt as alone as he had in suspension.