: Locked Away

The guard took Patrick out of the hospital. They went down many streets to a large, red-brick mansion. Patrick tried to escape. But the guard was too strong.

Patrick counted twenty windows on the front of the two-story building. The flat roof had a white railing around it.

Maybe I can escape from here, Patrick thought.

The guard knocked on a wooden door.

A tall man with thin, gangly arms and legs opened it. “What do you want?” he asked. His gray vest didn’t match his purple jacket and pants. His lips held a sour frown.

“Got you another worker, Old Willie,” the guard said.

Old Willie looked at Patrick. “He’s on the small side,” he said. He looked around nervously. “Come in before you’re seen.”

The guard pushed Patrick through the doorway and into a courtyard. The brick buildings formed a square around it.

The courtyard was filled with people in ragged clothes. They didn’t look happy.

“I’ve got to get back to work,” the guard said. He held out his hand.

Old Willie tossed him a coin. “Don’t want your hospital cholera here. Get out.”

The guard caught the coin and smiled. Then he went back through the door.

Patrick tried to grab the doorknob before it closed. But he wasn’t quick enough.

Patrick remembered the key from the Imagination Station. He took it out of his pocket.

He jammed the key into the door’s keyhole. It went in easily. But it didn’t unlock the door. The key was too small. He stuffed it back in his pocket.

Old Willie held up a large key. “It only opens with this one,” he said. “You belong to me now.”

“I don’t belong to anyone,” Patrick said. “And I won’t work for you.”

“You’ll work, or you won’t eat,” Old Willie said. “And if you speak back to me again, you’ll regret it.” He made a fist.

Old Willie scared Patrick. He hoped the Imagination Station would come back for him. He didn’t want to live here his whole life.

I have to find the right liquid, he thought.

Old Willie said, “You get porridge for breakfast. Dinner is boiled meat. Supper is bread and tea. We don’t sleep more than three to a bed.”

The people in the courtyard looked hot and tired. Most were older and moved slowly.

Old Willie said, “We turn flax plants into linen thread. You work and you get to eat.”

Patrick watched the people work.

Some crushed a hay-like plant between pieces of wood. Others put the smashed plants on a wall and beat them with paddles. A third group ran the plant through metal combs. The plant changed from being stiff to being soft like hair.

Old Willie pointed to the pile of hay-like plants. “Take the flax to the flax breaks.” He pointed to the wooden pieces crushing the plant.

Patrick walked over to the large pile of flax. He sighed.

“Come here, child,” an older woman said. She walked toward him. “I’ll show you to your room. You can put your things away. Then you can work.”

The woman had long gray hair. Her front teeth were missing, and her skin was wrinkled. But her voice was kind.

Patrick didn’t have anything. But he followed her across the courtyard. They went into the building in back of the workhouse.

“It’s not so bad here,” she said. “You’ll get used to it.” She went up the stairs slowly.

“I don’t want to get used to it,” Patrick said.

“No one does at first,” she said. She stopped and looked at him. “You need money to pay your way out. Do you have any?” Her eyes gleamed.

She leaned forward. Her hands moved toward him. They looked ready to grab his money.

Patrick shook his head. “I don’t have anything,” he said.

Her hands dropped to her sides. She looked upset. “That’s too bad,” she said.

She pointed to the first door in the hallway. “You’ll share with Teddy and Liam,” she said. “You better get back to work.” Her voice was no longer kind. The woman left.

Patrick went into the room.

The room smelled like sweaty socks. There was dirt on the floor. Cobwebs hung in one corner. A small bed rested against a wall. A window was above the bed.

This is a prison for the poor, Patrick thought.

He touched the mattress. It crackled. He bent down. The mattress was stuffed with flax or hay or another plant. It looked too small to hold three people.

Patrick climbed on it and looked out the narrow window. He couldn’t escape through it. This day had gone from bad to worse.

People passed by the building. No one looked up.

Patrick took a double look.

This can’t be, he thought. Patrick rubbed his eyes.