Free The River King by Alice Hoffman Page A

leafy branches overhead.
    There was only one way to avoid initiation and still retain membership with full privileges, and that was to perfect the trick Dr. Howe insisted his wife execute in exchange for her freedom. Who could blame Annie Howe for wanting to dissolve their union, considering those notches on the fireplace and the cruel way she’d been cut off from family and friends? But Dr. Howe was no fool; the only way he would agree to her demands was to set forth a single impossible task. She could leave anytime she wished to, all she need do was take one of her favorite flowers, those icy white roses that grew beside the girls’ dormitory, and there before her husband’s eyes, she must turn the bloom red.
    â€œShe killed herself instead,” the older boys told whoever was not already informed of Annie’s fate. “So we don’t advise you to try it.”
    Instead, it was suggested to the new boys that they look for one of the rabbits found in the meadows and the woods. These small, shy creatures were easily caught with some patience and fishing net. All that was needed was a strong piece of wire to wrap around the front foot, and a bloody little souvenir would allow admittance to the club. The best inductees, however, were considerably more creative than this, forsaking rabbit hunts and playing a game of one-upmanship of who could execute the most original or most illegal act. Who would go down in Chalk history as the most daring was still a title ready to be claimed. One year a joker from Baltimore had used a handsaw on the dean’s chair in the dining room, so that when Bob Thomas sat down to his dinner, he collapsed in a heap of splinters and beef. The previous autumn, Jonathan Walters, a quiet boy from Buffalo, had dipped into the school’s computer files, searching out any college recommendations that weren’t positive and altering critical passages to ensure that each letter afforded a wholehearted endorsement. There had been a wide range of induction activities, from thievery to high jinks; all that was necessary was that the deed performed would get a fellow in serious hot water if it was ever found out. That was the thread that bound them together: they were all guilty of something.
    Some boys, it was true, used the initiation to serve their own twisted purposes. Three years ago Robbie Shaw climbed up the fire escape that led to the room where Carlin now slept; it was a holiday weekend and many of the students were gone, a situation Robbie was well aware of, since he’d planned his mission carefully. He told the fourteen-year-old girl he had targeted if she ever said a word about what he’d done, he’d come back and slit her throat. But as it turned out, there was no need for further coercion; the girl in question transferred to a school in Rhode Island the very next week. Robbie was criticized for going too far with his initiation, but privately his daring and his ability to choose his victim so well were applauded, for although the girl in question knew who her attacker was, she never did tell a soul.
    Unfortunately, the decision to select August Pierce had not been as wise. Throughout the meeting, Gus kept quiet; it was impossible to gauge what he was feeling as he lay sprawled upon the damp grass. Afterward, he walked away without a word, and the other boys watched him carefully. There were those who would not have been surprised had Gus Pierce gone directly to the dean to report them, and still others who would have predicted that he’d hightail it to the police station in town, or maybe he’d simply phone home and beg his daddy to come and retrieve him. But in fact, Gus did none of these things. Perhaps another person with his convictions would have left that very night, simply packed his bags and hitchhiked down Route 17, but Gus was obstinate and he always had been. And perhaps he was prideful, too, because he thought he might just win at this