The Magi

The photograph was captivating. Hypnotizing. Was it possible his uncle and father once walked these same halls? It certainly seemed like it. The more Elijah thought about it, the more it made sense. They were orphans, after all. So was it by coincidence Elijah ended up here, or by design? Could Elijah’s parents have wanted him to come here if something happened to Uncle Stan?

Elijah was so hungry for answers he almost overlooked one glaring question. Why all the secrecy? If his parents wanted it, why didn’t Detective Scott simply say so? Things still didn’t add up.

He looked closely at the picture. His father and uncle were younger, maybe seventeen, but it was definitely them. Even then, Uncle Stan looked rough. His smile looked reckless and daring. Elijah’s father was taller and more distinguished-looking. They both looked happy, which surprised Elijah. Maybe he had misjudged Saint Phillip’s Academy. If they could be happy here, maybe he could too.

Elijah had to force himself to leave. He wanted to look longer, but he also didn’t want to be late meeting Master Roddick. Roddick was just closing the classroom door as Elijah sped around the corner.

“Hey, Elijah!”

“Sorry I’m late, sir,” Elijah said panting.

“Oh, you’re not late,” said Roddick. “I finished just now. I’m afraid if you get me talking about Charles Dickens, I lose track of time. I hope my students found it as fascinating as I did. My guess is no.” Roddick chuckled at his own joke. “So, let’s say I take you on a tour of the grounds. I’m a great tour guide.”

“That sounds okay,” Elijah stated. “As long as we don’t see Chancellor Hawthorne.”

“I don’t want to run into him either,” kidded Roddick. “If we see him, we’ll run in a different direction.”

Master Roddick guided Elijah through the two long halls on the first floor and showed him the different classrooms, the library, and the cafeteria. Roddick explained how to check out books, when the best time was to eat meals, which food was good, and which to steer clear of.

Most of the rooms on the second floor were science laboratories and study rooms. There were a few other classrooms scattered about, which Roddick explained were for upper division students working on a final project.

The third floor held most of the teachers’ offices. They walked down the hall into the next to last office. “This is my office,” Roddick stated. “Many teachers won’t see you without an appointment, but if you ever want to see me, you don’t need one. My door’s always open.”

“Thanks,” Elijah said.

“Have a seat,” said Roddick.

From his office decorations, Elijah figured Roddick loved water. Pictures of the ocean hung on the walls. Smaller pictures of rivers and lakes were propped on his desk. Roddick even had glass containers filled with water from all different parts of the world. They were labeled “DEAD SEA”, “ATLANTIC OCEAN”, “NILE RIVER”, and it went on and on.

Roddick noticed Elijah’s fascination. “I used to travel. Lots of people collect dirt from different places. I collect water.”

“How do you keep it from growing stuff?” asked Elijah.

“Great question!” Roddick said. “Let’s just say I take good care of it. So, what’s your story? Why are you here at Saint Phillip’s?”

Elijah had just been asked this question the other day in Hawthorne’s office, but this felt different. Less intimidating. Comfortable.

Elijah was direct. “My parents were murdered.”

“That’s awful,” said Master Roddick. “I had no idea.”

“It’s not something I like to talk about,” said Elijah.

“No doubt. This may be a bit personal, but where’s the rest of your family?”

“I have the same question,” Elijah answered. “I lived with my uncle—” He shook his head. “—but that didn’t work out. I guess this is it for me. I have no family anymore.”

Roddick took a very long breath. “I’m so sorry, Elijah. I don’t know what to say. No one should ever have to go through something like that. Especially at your age.”

Elijah lowered his eyes.

“Elijah,” Roddick spoke after a moment. “Can I talk with you more after today? You know, like a mentor. You’re a good kid. I sensed that immediately about you. I want to help you if I can. That is, if you’re open to it.”

“I guess,” said Elijah. “What would I have to do?”

“Talk. Open up. Be honest. Does that sound too hard?” Elijah shook his head. “Okay. How about seeing me again on Saturday? Are you willing to come in on your weekend?” Roddick asked.

“Sure,” said Elijah.

“It’s settled then. Well, I’d better let you get going. I’m sure you’ve got work to do.”

“Thanks,” said Elijah. “See you tomorrow.”

Elijah left feeling comforted. He ran down the stairs of the main building with a little extra skip. When he reached his hall, he rounded the corner and almost ran directly into Chancellor Hawthorne. Elijah had to catch his breath. Something about the way Hawthorne looked at him told him he was in trouble.

Hawthorne said, “It’s so good to see you. Come with me.” He walked Elijah into the bathroom. “Look at the floor.” Elijah was puzzled. There wasn’t a piece of trash lying around. Hawthorne bent down and ran his finger along the floor. “You didn’t clean the bathrooms today.” He held up his finger with the smallest amount of dirt on it.

“I didn’t have time to—”

Before Elijah could finish his sentence, Hawthorne stretched back his hand and unloaded it on Elijah’s face. The force knocked him down. It felt like he’d been hit by a baseball bat at full speed. Elijah held his cheek as Hawthorne got very close to him. He spoke in a low voice—very slow and soft. “Never… argue…with me.”

It took everything in Elijah not to let his anger get the best of him. The weather must have sensed his anger because thunder roared in the distance. Elijah took a deep breath. He bowed his head and clenched his teeth. “Yes, sir.”

“Now,” said Hawthorne as calmly as ever, “you shall do your chores.”

Elijah started toward the cleaning closet when Hawthorne stopped him. “Where are you going?”

“To clean the bathroom,” Elijah said.

“You will have time to clean…after your punishment,” said Hawthorne.

“But…”

Hawthorne stepped aside and a pale-faced man with long, dark hair, emerged. Elijah hadn’t even noticed him. The man pulled out a flat stick with half-inch thorns sticking out one side.

“Hold out your hands,” commanded the man in a high, whisper-like voice, quite like a child trying to suppress his excitement. Elijah did so unwillingly. Hawthorne stood behind Elijah.

Elijah let out a small whimper as the stick slammed into the back of his hands. The thorns dug deep into his tissue. The pale-faced man giggled. He raised the stick again and slammed it down. Elijah bit his lip, but this time, he didn’t make a sound. He didn’t look at his hands, but he saw the thorns dripping with his blood. Once more, the stick pierced Elijah, but this time, the pale-faced man left it in and wiggled it around. The pain was almost unbearable, but Elijah wouldn’t let out a sound. He only glared defiantly.

“Now, have we learned our lesson?” Hawthorne said.

Elijah shook with anger. He nodded.

“Good. I trust I’ve made myself clear. Let’s not let this happen again.” Hawthorne and the pale-faced man turned and disappeared down the hall.

Elijah spent the rest of the evening scrubbing the bathrooms until the floors shined and his hands throbbed. He wanted to cry, but he forced himself to stay composed.

When he was finally done, he entered his room with his hands behind his back. Samuel looked up. “Hey.” When Elijah didn’t respond, Samuel said, “You don’t need to hide your hands. I got the Thorn Stick my first week too. It seems my shirt wasn’t tucked in quite right, and I ran right into Hawthorne. See?” Samuel held out his hands and showed Elijah a few red scabs and wounds beginning to heal. He threw Elijah a bandage from his desk. “Here. I keep these just in case.”

“It shouldn’t be allowed for them to do that,” Elijah said as he wrapped his hands.

“It probably isn’t,” Samuel said. “But who’s going to stop them? What can we do?”

“You could have warned me,” Elijah snapped.

“I’m sorry,” said Samuel. “I don’t really like to talk about it. It makes me hate my parents even more than I do.”

Elijah nodded. “I suppose. I wish my uncle was here. He’d knock that guy out.”

Samuel looked at Elijah directly in the eyes. “What was your family like?”

The question took Elijah by surprise. “What do you mean?”

Samuel shrugged. “I was just curious. You seem like you really loved them.”

Elijah said, “I dunno. They were cool. They loved each other. They loved me.”

“How do you know?” asked Samuel. “Did you ever get into trouble?”

Elijah laughed. “Lots.”

“Did they ever hit you?”

“Not like here,” said Elijah rubbing his throbbing hands.

“Did they ever do anything with you?”

Elijah could sense Samuel’s questions were more than just curiosity. “What do you mean, like play with us or go out?”

“Yeah.”

“My parents pretty much made time for us whenever they could. My dad threw the ball around with me. My mom would let us lick the cookie batter when she made cookies.” Elijah smiled. “She even started a food fight in the kitchen one time that ended very badly. There was batter everywhere.” Samuel laughed. “Didn’t you ever do anything like that with your family?”

“No,” said Samuel, “I was lucky to see my parents. If they said anything to me, it was ‘goodnight’, or ‘go to bed’.”

Elijah frowned. He had a hard time picturing a life without love. No acceptance. He never realized how lucky he was to have a family like his. He wished he could tell them how much he missed them right then.

“I guess—” Elijah continued, feeling suddenly detached from his surroundings. “—I guess I know they loved me because I always knew I was important to them. It’s never something I thought about. I just felt it—like a bond or a connection to them. I knew they would do anything to take care of me. Did you know my dad died saving my life?”

“Really?”

The two boys talked well into the night, even after lights were supposed to be out.

When Elijah went to bed, he tossed and turned all night. He continued thinking about his family. About how unfair it was that they were dead.

As the hours ticked by, Elijah began to feel an obligation to find out what happened to his family. To do that, he needed to uncover his past. Somehow, he knew the truth lied there. His family died for a reason. No—they were murdered for a reason. The answers were close. He would have to dig. Deep. It would be difficult. Dangerous. It would take time and it could take his life. But he owed it to his family. He owed it to himself.

The remainder of term crawled by. Elijah started waking up early in the morning with Samuel to get his chores done on time. When Samuel went off to work in the kitchen, Elijah cleaned the bathrooms. He would return to inspect them again as soon as his classes were finished. It didn’t seem to impress Hawthorne when inspections came three times a week, but at least Elijah didn’t have to suffer through another beating with the Thorn Stick.

Day by day, the air grew colder and colder. The ground seemed to change its mind whether it wanted to be covered in snow or not. Elijah slipped more than once on the walkway to class. He was thankful for Samuel’s extra bandages.

Elijah soon got in the swing of his classes and enjoyed most of them—except science. He thought science should really be called “Sit and Read your Book.” It was rare for Master Corgan to even address a student. He mostly just paced around the classroom with his hands in his pockets making sure students were reading.

One day, Master Corgan was in the middle of his fourteenth lap around the room when he noticed a young man staring off into space. As soon as Corgan’s eyes fixated on the boy, Elijah only pretended to read so he could eavesdrop. Corgan walked over to the boy’s desk and talked in his low, mystical voice.

“If you have something better to do in my class, by all means enlighten me.”

The student ignored Corgan and gave a very disrespectful gesture. Elijah thought for sure the boy was done for, but to Elijah’s surprise, Master Corgan smiled just slightly. “Come with me.” The student slammed his science book down, picked up his stuff and walked outside with Master Corgan. He never returned to class. In fact, Elijah found out the student didn’t come back to school at all. When he asked other students about the incident, Elijah learned there had been other outbursts in Corgan’s class. Each student met the same fate—being ushered out and never seen again. To make matters more curious, with each dismissal, Master Corgan would miss the next day’s class. Since then, Elijah never made a sound in Corgan’s class.

Easily, the highlight of Elijah’s week was meeting with Master Roddick. Many sessions, they just talked about nonsense. Elijah would sometimes tell him how his day was and what he learned in his classes, and occasionally Roddick would help him with his homework. Some conversations, however, were very serious. Elijah often talked about his parents and uncle and how much he missed them all. Roddick seemed like he genuinely cared about each session, regardless of the topic.

During one meeting, Elijah mentioned the large book he found with his parents’ things. He told Roddick about looking up the strange words like “Magi” and “Tibirus.” Roddick immediately straightened up.

“What did the book say about the Magi?”

“It said they were possessed by evil spirits or something like that,” Elijah recalled. “It really didn’t say much about it, only something about the Magi leaving for protection.”

“Fascinating,” said Roddick. “And what do you think about all that?”

Elijah snorted. “I have no idea. I’ve never heard of the Magi, but if they’re evil, I don’t care to.”

Roddick nodded. He absentmindedly started polishing a snow globe on his desk. “So what do you want to do with your life, Elijah? If you could do anything.”

“Fly,” Elijah joked. “I haven’t really thought about it. I’d like to help people.”

“How would you help them?”

“I dunno.”

“What if you knew exactly how to help people, but it meant sacrificing yourself. Would you do it?”

Elijah paused. “What do you mean?” He was sure Roddick was getting at something, but he didn’t know what.

Roddick smiled. “Think about it.”

Roddick liked to challenge Elijah. He would often ask difficult questions that made him think. Elijah loved the questions. They added an extra element to their meetings. He often thought of Kyria when he talked with Master Roddick. She would have loved him.

Just before the Christmas holiday, a man by the name of Pennington walked in to Master Roddick’s class. He wasn’t unlike Roddick in appearance with his causal clothes and longer hair. He seemed very friendly, but his first words to the class made Elijah melt in his seat.

“I’m to inform you,” he said, “that Master Roddick will not be teaching for the remainder of term. I will take his place until he returns. Now let’s open up to page 272.”

Elijah couldn’t concentrate the entire lesson. He felt like the entire world was against him having a normal life. Just when he found someone to talk to, he was abandoned again. Was everyone he grew to care about going to leave?

After class, Master Pennington called him over.

“Mister Hawk?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Can you stay a minute?”

Elijah put down his books. Pennington waited until the other students left. He talked softly. “Master Roddick wanted me to relay a message to you. He told me to tell you he is sorry for the abrupt ending to your meetings this term, and he hopes you’ll understand.”

“Where is he?”

“I can’t answer that, Elijah. But he did ask me to give you this.” Pennington handed Elijah a folded piece of paper then walked out the door, leaving Elijah alone. Elijah immediately read the paper.

“I’m sorry to leave on such short notice. I will explain when I see you next. After our last conversation, I think you’re ready for the truth. If you are, meet me by the fountain at midnight on the last day of term. I can teach you much more than you can even imagine.

-R-

P.S. The Magi are real!”