Chapter 1--But VERY VERY ROUGH DRAFT

To keep him safe


A heavy fog had laid itself over a wet street in Pittsburg. Because of the smoke, fog and rain made the already filthy night sky look a shade of green. Two silhouettes appeared in the haze. They came to a clearing in the fog in front of a red brick building. One of them you could tell was a woman and the other a man. The woman was carrying a bundle and the man was holding what looked like a package. Then slowly they made their way up the slippery porch stairs of the building.
“Is this the right thing to do?” asked the woman. “I hope so.” Replied the man. “But can’t we put him in a safer place?” protested the woman. “Won’t they find him?” The man shook his head sadly. “We cannot know, darling. We were not given that kind of power. Now we must leave him.” The woman shook her head angrily. “Can’t he come with us?” she sobbed. “We don’t have much time; we have to set the protective enchantment over this building. “They could be watching” he replied in whisper and cautiously looked over his shoulder. The lady shakily put the small bundle on the top step and so did the man with the p he two walked down the moldy porch. As the lady looked over the dilapidated building the man pulled out a small stick out of his cloak. He mumbled a hushed chant under his breath, and cloud of brilliant blue came from the tip of the stick began to circle itself around the aged building. When the spiral of smoke had faded, the man made a knocking gesture toward the door of the house with the stick and tap-tapping echoed off the moldy building walls. And then the couple ran off into the fog. 1


Post


I stared out my cracked bedroom window at the foggy Pittsburg sunset. This had always been my favorite time of day. Nothing had happened at this time of my life. It might have been the time my parents had left me on the door step of this moldy orphanage. But in the light? It didn’t make sense
Then my thoughts were interrupted by a thump and muffled cries. Probably LaRoy Qubet and Eel. LaRoy Qubet was the “King” and the bully of the orphanage. His room was directly above mine on the fourth floor, and a land mark of terror for the inhabitants of the building, plus one sniff of his lair would make anyone nauseated. Eel was a sickly, thin, pale boy who had a twisted foot and was usually jumped by LaRoy when limping up the stairs, and when ever irritated, which was easily done you would wake up with a dead mouse in your bed.

My door flew open and as I had expected the big red blob of skin in second hand clothing which was LaRoy, and a chalk white, hopping boy with a puffy right eye walked in. “Listen, Rearum” LaRoy began. “It’s Hearum” I corrected, scowling at my redickules name. “Whatever, but you saw what happened, so tell Mr. Mouse here, that I happened to be walking down the hallway when he was walking up the stairs and I tripped and fell on him” he said pointing at Eel. “But eez odd zat it happen all time” Eel replied accusingly in his broken English. I looked at both of them. What side would I choose. Eel’s probably had the most truth in it, but if I did chose Eel then I would get the hitting of my life but if I didn’t I’d wake up with a mouse’s corpse on my pillow. So I said, “Well, I didn’t see what happened so…..” “That’s really to bad.” LaRoy interrupted flexing his fist. I swallowed hard. I remembered the time when I had been once beaten by LaRoy. It had been the most painful experience I’d ever gone through. In the end I chose LaRoy’s side (against my will). Eel slouched out of the room. “You be sorry Earum” he cursed. I didn’t bother to correct him incase I woke up with a live weasel. LaRoy sniggered and heavily skipped out of the room. Then I heard another loud thump. Would he ever learn? Then LaRoy poked his head back into my room. “Oh yes, Mr. Gorgan says he’s waiting for the mail.
Mr. Gorgan was the owner of the orphanage and was also a drunk. Because I had once gotten the mail he thought I was the permanent mail boy.
So I started down the hallway to the stair well. This also was a land mark of terror for all the boys here because whenever you put your foot on a rotted step, it would screech like an angry cat and made it hard to sneak food up to your room.
When I reached the bottom, I walked down the last hallway to the entry hall. The only objects in it were, a grey threadbare rug, and a wooden shelf that held a few un paid bills, and empty Gin bottles.
The mail as usual was lying comfortably on the rug. I bent over and picked up the mail. They were all bills in white envelopes with the small clear, plastic window. I squeezed my eyes shut as I saw what it stated inside:

FINALE NOTICE!
MR. ALEXANDER GORGAN
GORGAN’S HOME FOR BOYS, 127 ENVEROE WAY, PITTSBURG
134890



I sometimes thought that any place was better than here but if the orphanage was taken where would we go? To a foster home? I wouldn’t want to have to go to a home, I like to belong some where, even if it meant living here. I looked out the flapless mail slot. A couple bugs were flying around the bulbs of the pole The flap had been knocked off due to many decades of mail being pushed through it but made it easer to look out to the street outside.
The street had only one lamp which was right in front of the orphanage. There were benefits in this and there were losses included, the benefit was you could see if anyone was lurking around, the loss was the light which shone in almost every window on the second and third floor.
I almost forgot why I had come down to this dingy entry hall. I scooped up the mail and headed for the stairs.