From the moment Jerome woke up that Friday morning he could feel that something strange was going to happen. He did everything the same way he always did. He rolled out of bed, went to the bathrooms at the end of the wing, showered, brushed his teeth and with his towel around his waist walked back to his room to change. Then he went down to breakfast. The cafeteria was noisy as usual and school was boring, as usual. When he returned to the orphanage after school nothing unusual had happened yet and Jerome was beginning to get a little nervous. So he picked up his book and tried to settle down to some good reading.
“Jerome, can you come down here?” Miss Claire called up the stairs, just fifteen minutes later. “There’s someone here to see you.”
“No one ever comes to see me,” Jerome called back. The butterflies in his stomach grew and fluttered, causing his chest to tighten. He picked up his novel, but he knew that Miss Claire was coming up the stairs because they creaked and he could hear the clip clop of her heels on the tile floor of the first boys’ wing. Miss Claire was the senior mistress of the orphanage, and although she was quite young, St. Patrick’s Orphanage was always run to perfection. The rules, once laid down, were followed to the letter. Friday was Jerome’s favourite day because after school the orphans were free to do as they pleased.
“Come on, Jerome,” she said softly as she reached the door of the room he was supposed to share but was lucky enough not to. “You’ve been so mopey since Jessie said she would not go out with you. And by the way you are behaving I can see why she refused.”
“How did you find out about that?” Jerome said putting down the book he had been pretending to read.
“Oh, everyone knew that you liked her, and I know everything, Jerome.”
“Mm,” Jerome said blushing slightly. “Well it wasn’t supposed to be a public announcement.”
“Don’t worry about it, she’s the one missing out. Now are you coming down or not?” As Miss Claire turned to leave she called over her shoulder, “He’s waiting in the hallway.”
Jerome ran his hand through his hair and looked at himself in the mirror. His brown skin made his almond shaped, light brown eyes look weird and out of place. Jerome was one of the few orphans who had actually known his parents and his origins. Well, at least he had known his father but could not remember his mother. Jerome always remembered his father saying that he had her eyes. Beautiful eyes, he often said. Jerome however thought they were strange and mismatched with his hair that was a mass of thick, tight curls that tended to grow fast, falling lazily across his face or sticking up at wild angles. Jerome sighed. He was beginning to have the feeling that whatever was going to happen that day, was going to change everything. He took a deep breath then let it go explosively. Bracing himself for the unexpected, he opened the door of his room. The main wing was empty but when he got to the open hallway it was packed with kids running this way and that. At the end of the hallway there were stairs that led down to the entrance hall. There was a bald man sitting there. He wore round glasses and was carrying a briefcase.
“You must be Jerome, “ he said standing up. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”
Jerome did not reply but led the man to an empty study room off the main hallway. He pulled out a chair and indicated for the man to do the same.
“Who are you?”
“Well my name is Jason Parks and I’m a private investigator. I have been hired by a company that wishes to remain anonymous.” He peered at Jerome. “Are you sure that you are Jerome Andrews? I have a photo here of you.” He took out two photos. One of them was the orphanage annual photo from some years back. The other showed a young boy riding on his father’s shoulders a huge smile across his face.
“Where did you get the photos?” Jerome asked, pulling the one of him and his dad closer. “I mean this one.”
“Orphanage files on you.”
“Okay. What…what do you want from me? I mean, why are you looking for me?”
“Well Jerome, the company that hired me keeps things like documents and money hidden safely and discreetly for its clients. It’s been in business longer than the Swiss banks but very few people know about it because it is only accessible to the very rich. It is very discreet…sometimes even the people who use it don’t know its name, and even so the name changes.”
“Well, what do they want with me?”
“That’s none of my business. I was paid to find you and deliver this.” He removes a package from his briefcase. Jerome noted that it wasn’t very big and would slip into his pocket easily. It was wrapped in brown paper and there was no name or indication of whom it belonged to.
‘Who’s it from? I don’t have any family.”
Mr. Parks handed the package to Jerome. “I don’t know. Like I said, I was paid to find you.”
“And umm, Mr Parks, how did you find me?” Jerome asked, looking up from the package that was now in his hands.
Mr Parks reached into his briefcase again. “Everything is written in this letter,” he said as he slid the letter across the table and stood up. “I’ll see myself out. Good luck, Jerome Andrews.” Mr Parks turned and left the study room, closing the door quietly behind him. Jerome waited until he could no longer hear the echo of footsteps in the entrance hall. Then he pulled the letter towards him and opened it, his hand on the package in front of him.
Dear Mr Jerome Andrews,
I hope that we find you in good health and spirits. With that said, I think it is in our best interests to get straight to the point. I am the CEO of a company that keeps documents and money discreetly. Our company is well hidden and only the wealthiest clients know about us or make use of our services. Which brings me to this particular package that has been in our possession for the last five hundred years.
According to our records, it was given to us in April 1506. The gentleman who brought it to us did not leave his name; indeed it is not our business to ask. Instead, he left the name of his first daughter, Julie Hathrow, and detailed instructions that we were to deliver this package to the first male of her line. At first we assumed that this would be in a few years. However, every child born to the first of Julie’s line since then has been a girl and when years dragged into decades we lost touch with the family.
But the gentleman who left this package had a contingency plan. When payment for keeping the package failed to come we would know it was time. When the money did indeed stop coming, we began to look into your family history trying to locate you. We hired a private detective to make sure that everything was done right and that the package was delivered to the proper descendent.
Yours sincerely
There was no name at the end of the letter and no address either. Jerome ran his hands through his hair, his head full of questions. He pulled the package closer and felt it. Whatever was inside was not very big. He carefully began to peal back the first layer of brown paper when the door of the library was suddenly pushed open. A boy named James swaggered into the room slamming the door behind him. Jerome’s muscles tensed but he leaned coolly back in his chair.
“What do you want, James?” he said putting the package back into his pocket.
“You know what, Andrews? Troy sent me to teach you a lesson,” James said between clenched teeth. “You think you’re all that, don’t you? Well….” He took a swipe at Jerome but Jerome had been ready. He let the chair tip all the way over, rolled onto the floor and stood up easily.
“You punch like a girl, James. You can do better than that. I mean, Troy’s puppies should do better than that.”
James pushed the table aside and tried to punch Jerome again. Jerome neatly stepped away and, now from behind, kicked James hard in the base of the spine. James fell, crashing into the upturned chair. Jerome turned around, ran out of the library and out of the orphanage. He knew he couldn’t hang around there, at least not until Troy had calmed down about Jerome beating up his best friend.
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When Jerome arrived back at the orphanage it was dark. He knew he shouldn’t have been away so long but he needed time to think and he could never do that around the chattering and noise of the dorm. As he entered the main hallway he noticed a young boy sitting on the waiting bench, his cheeks streaked with dry tears. He was clutching a small, brown bag. Jerome sighed. He looked very young and was probably totally new to the idea of being an orphan. Jerome smiled encouragingly as he walked by. He remembered how hard it was for him too during his first few years.
When he finally got to his room he collapsed in a heap on the lower bunk, but he had little time to rest. His mind was already on the package he received that morning. He had just reached under his pillow to get it when there was a light knock on the door and Miss Claire came in. Jerome could also see the young boy trailing behind her.
“Jerome, “ she said in her ‘no nonsense’ voice. “Where have you been all day? You missed Friday curfew and no one knew where you had gone. You missed supper. Where were you, young man?”
“I’m sorry,” Jerome mumbled. “I was…uh…nowhere. I was nowhere.”
“And where is nowhere supposed to be, young man? I understand you’re a very mature boy, but to sneak off without telling anyone…” She let that hang in the air for a while. Jerome squirmed uncomfortably, then Miss Claire sighed as if to say, ‘boys whatever will I do with you.’
“Jerome, this is Aaron,” she said pointing at the young boy. “He is your new room mate.”
Jerome looked at her, startled. “Why can’t he stay with one of the younger boys? He looks about seven!”
“He’s ten and I chose you to look after him. You need something to keep you away from whatever occupies your head all the time.”
Jerome sighed. “Come on in then,” he said to Aaron. Miss Claire turned and walked away, but not before she gave Jerome her ‘I’m watching you, young man’ eyes.
“I sleep on the top bunk,” Jerome explained to Aaron. “Do you want me to put your stuff in your cupboard?”
Aaron mumbled a quiet ‘yes’.
Jerome turned his back on him, opened up the bag and removed Aaron’s clothes and some personal possessions. He placed these on an empty shelf and put the boy’s spare trainers on the floor next to his. He was dying to open his package but he knew that he would have to wait.
There was a knock at the door and a young girl peered her head around. “Jerome, Miss Claire says she wants to see you.”
Jerome sighed. This was turning out to be a day full of distractions. “I’m coming.” He turned to Aaron and said, “When I get back we’ll get some food, OK?” He smiled at him and left the room.
Miss Claire’s office was a sparse room lined only with a few books. Jerome entered. “Sit down, “she said. “Do you know why I chose you to look after Aaron?”
“No,” Jerome said as he sat down. “Possibly to disturb me?”
“No, Jerome. It’s because I think you have a great personality, a big brother personality. Aaron has suffered a tragic loss. He recently lost his mum in a car accident. He got out literally unscathed but his mother died, his only living relative. I want you to look after him, OK?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s all, Jerome and please don’t go wandering off again. Oh, tomorrow is Saturday. Why don’t you take Aaron to see a movie?”
Jerome stood up. “Ok, good night.” He walked slowly back to his room and found Aaron sitting on his bed exactly as he had left him.
“Hey, Aaron,” he said softly. “You hungry?”
Aaron nodded.
“Let’s go get some food then.”
Jerome led him through the packed common room and into the cafeteria. It would be open from six to seven. He pointed Aaron to a back corner. “I’ll get your food, OK?”
Jerome piled rice and chicken on to a plate for himself and a little less for Aaron. He then sat down and began to eat slowly and silently, his mind on the package upstairs.
“How old are you?” Aaron asked, disturbing Jerome’s thoughts. His voice was high and sweet.
“Seventeen,” Jerome said looking at Aaron for the first time. His blond hair was lank and cut quite close. His eyes were green and his features were smooth. He appeared very small for his age.
“How long have you been here?”
“Since I was seven.”
Aaron nodded. His small eyes welled with tears.
“What’s wrong man? Don’t cry,” Jerome said. Aaron took a deep breath. “You’ve got to be a man now, OK?”
Jerome saw a group of girls walk into the cafeteria and his attention was distracted by the fact that Jessie was with them. He watched her move to get her food and flick her hair pretentiously when one of her friends pointed out that he was watching. Then her boyfriend Troy came in. Troy and Jerome had never got along; the only time they managed to stay civil to each other was when they were on the same side of a rugby or soccer team. Noticing Jerome, Troy slouched over, his crowd following closely behind.
“Why you looking at my girl?” he demanded aggressively.
“I wasn’t,” Jerome replied, standing up. He was taller than Troy but not by much. Troy was definitely bigger but Jerome was stronger from all the sports he loved to play.
“Yeah you were.”
“Look I don’t need a fight, OK.” He turned his back on Troy. “You done, Aaron?” Aaron nodded and they began to walk away. At that moment, Troy grabbed Aaron, lifted his body easily, and dropped him heavily on the table. Jerome reacted instantly. He rammed into Troy and knocked him over. Jerome rolled up quickly as Troy stood, a little winded and very angry. He charged at Jerome, who stepped to the side and brought his elbow down with a crash on Troy’s exposed back pushing him to the floor.
“I’ve had enough,” he said as he pulled Aaron off the table and walked away. Jessie watched as he passed by but he refused to meet her eyes.
When they got back to their room, Jerome helped Aaron make his bed and pointed him in the direction of the bathroom.
After Aaron had left, Jessie came to his room. “Hey, Jerome.”
“It’s almost curfew you know,” he said refusing to look into her eyes.
“Come on, Jerome,” she said entering the room. “You know me and Troy, we aren’t serious.”
“Oh right, so what are you? Just get out OK, I got stuff to do.” Jerome turned away, waiting for Jessie to leave.
When Aaron came back he didn’t say much, he just collapsed in a heap under his duvet and fell asleep. Jerome watched his chest rise and fall and remembered when he first arrived at the orphanage. He had been so scared he hadn’t known what to expect.
Jerome’s thoughts strayed back to the package under his pillow. Finally, he was alone. He took the package out and placed it on the desk. Jerome slowly peeled off the brown paper and discovered a simple drawstring bag inside. It was made of leather and dyed white. Jerome pulled open the strings and reached inside. His fingers came into contact with what felt like a chain. He pulled his hand out of the bag and turned it upside down. There was a clatter as the object hit the table. Moving the bag aside Jerome looked at the object. His initial instinct was right. It was a slim gold chain with some kind of pendant at the end. Jerome turned it over and saw that it was in the shape of a teardrop, not very big and amber in colour. As he lifted the chain up a hundred questions ran through his head. Slowly, he put the chain around his neck and groping a little, he managed to close the clasp. Then he collapsed, crashing to the floor.
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