Page 5 of The Taskmaster
Twenty-Four Years Ago...
“You’re going to love it here, Isaiah. Clivesdon House is a superb children’s home. One of the best. The staff are so helpful. In fact, they’re not like staff at all, more like second parents,” the social worker, Mr. Tolley, said. He’d told me to call him Gabe, but Mum always said I should address adults with respect. He was Mr. Tolley.
He led me up the path towards the large white house with big windows. It didn’t look like a children’s home; I couldn’t see any children playing outside like I used to see from my window in my old house. I always liked watching the kids in the street. I’d hoped that one day I might be able to join them, but Mum told me I wasn’t allowed to go outside. I wasn’t allowed to be seen. I don’t know why.
When Mr. Tolley opened the door, the inside of the house seemed pretty quiet. I held his hand because I didn’t know what else to do. There was an ache in the pit of my stomach, and I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened to me to bring me here.
Since I’d hidden in my cubby hole, like Mum told me to, and watched my dad do what he did, everything went bad. The bed in the hospital was comfier than my mattress at home, but I couldn’t sleep. Different adults kept trying to get me to talk about what I’d seen, but I didn’t want to. Talking meant thinking about it, and I didn’t want to remember.
On my first night at the hospital, one of the nurses made me have a bath. I told her it wasn’t the right day for it, but she scolded me and then made me take my clothes off and get into the bath. I thought nurses were supposed to look after you. The ones I saw on TV were nice, but not this one. She just sat at the side of the bath, staring weirdly at me and asking questions.
What had my dad done?
What did I see?
Why did my parents keep me locked away?
Did I know I didn’t have a birth certificate?
I had no idea what that was, but I stayed quiet. Mum always told me to stay quiet. I didn’t want to upset Mum, and she might come back for me soon. She would come back for me. I knew she would. Dad always hurt her, and there was a lot of red stuff, but she told me she’d never leave me. She didn’t tell lies.
The water in the bath got colder and colder. I asked the nurse if I could get out, but she said no. I asked her if she’d add more hot water, and she said she would... if I talked to her or the police and answered their questions. I wouldn’t do that. So, I shook my head and lifted my knees, wrapping my arms around them to try and get warm. I would stay silent. I was good at those kinds of games. I could sit in this freezing cold bath all day if I had to. This was a better task than the ones my dad set for me.
A young nurse put her head around the door and then gestured for the older nurse to talk to her outside. They left the door open a little, and I could hear the younger nurse pleading with the older one to stop what she was doing. She told her that it was inhumane. Whatever that meant.
“He needs to talk. This will get him to do it,” she barked back. She didn’t know me very well. I was the master at doing tasks. The Taskmaster, Mum used to call me.
“Don’t you think he’s been through enough?” the younger nurse scolded, and the older one huffed.
“He might know where the others are. If we can help the police in any way, we have to do this. Whatever it takes, Georgie.”
I let my head fall onto my knees as I sat huddled in the bath, listening.
“I’m having no part in this,” the kinder, younger nurse said. “Shame on you.” And then the nasty one came back into the room, slamming the door behind her, making me flinch and sit up.
I don’t know how long I stayed in that bath, but it was dark again when I got out. I didn’t speak to any of the doctors, nurses, or the police who came to see me at the hospital and ask about my mum. I didn’t want to talk about it. Adult after adult tried, but I wasn’t going to fall for their tricks. Mum would come soon, and then it’d all be sorted out.
They tried to be nice to me, but it didn’t feel real. No one had put their arms around me or held me since the warm man had crawled into my space in the cubby hole. I liked him. He smelt clean, like soap, and he knew about Thomas and trains. I wished he’d come back again, but he didn’t. And then one day, Mr. Tolley showed up and told me I had a new home. I didn’t want a new home. I wanted to go back to my old one. But I didn’t argue. This would be like another task for me to master. I could go with him and visit this home. Maybe Mum would be there?
I had asked Mr. Tolley when I’d see her, and he’d smiled and told me to ‘hang in there’. Then he said moving to Clivesdon House would be my first step to a new life. That’s why I guessed Mum would be there too. She’d told me we were running away to start a new life on the night she and Dad had the big fight. Maybe this was what she meant.
But she wasn’t there. Not yet, anyway.
Mr. Tolley led me into the white house and down the hall. Then he stopped outside a door and knocked on it.
A voice behind the door said, “Come in,” and Mr. Tolley pushed the door open, and we both walked inside.
There was a desk in the middle of the room, but no one was sitting at it. In the corner, slumped into an armchair was a man with ruddy cheeks and a large smile.
“Here he is,” Mr. Tolley announced cheerfully. “Another one for you.” Then he let go of my hand as he crouched down to my level. “This is Mr. Anders, but now you’re living here, you can call him Kevin. He’s the night manager at Clivesdon. That means he’s like the nighttime dad for the boys that live here. Boys like you.”
Mr. Anders wasn’t my dad. I didn’t want him to be. But I stood still and stared at him as he held a white paper bag filled with something and munched as he grinned back at me.
“We’ll be fine, Gabe,” Mr. Anders said through a mouthful of food. “You can go. I’ll get Isaiah settled in.” He leaned forward and grinned wider, and the red stains on his teeth made me screw my face up. He looked gross.
“Thanks, Kev,” Mr. Tolley said, then he ruffled my hair, and stepped back towards the door. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” He sighed and then added, “Good luck, little buddy,” before closing the door and leaving me alone with Mr. Anders. I never saw Mr. Tolley again.
I stood silently in the middle of the room, staring at the swirly carpet. Mr. Anders slapped his knee and said, “Come here, boy. Take a seat on your daddy’s lap and I can tell you all about your new home.”
