Among the Barons (2 page)

Luke just couldn’t see Mr. Hendricks agreeing to let Luke eat somewhere else.

And he didn’t want to.
His
friends would all be eating in the dining hall. What he really wanted was for Smits to be the one set apart, hidden. That is, if he had to be at Hendricks at all.

For perhaps the billionth time since he’d learned about Smits, Luke wondered,
Why in the world would
he
want to come
here?

Luke kept his eyes on the long, curving driveway A dark car turned in at the Hendricks School gates, disappeared behind a clump of trees, reappeared, and sped on toward the school. Luke’s stomach churned.

The car pulled up in front of the school. It seemed about as long as a tractor and a hay wagon combined. The windows—all ten of them—were tinted black, so Luke couldn’t tell if there was a boy inside staring out just as intently as Luke was staring in.

Oh, no. What if Smits’s parents had come, too?

Luke hadn’t thought of that before. Now panic coursed through his veins. He couldn’t meet all three Grants at once. He just couldn’t.

The driver’s door glided open—smoothly, like it was on oiled hinges. Luke held his breath, waiting to see who would appear. A polished boot stepped out, followed by a second one that seemed even shinier. Then a tall, aristocraticlooking man in a dark blue uniform and stiff cap stood up. The uniform had gold braid around the cuffs and collar, and at the rim of the cap. Luke could even have believed it was real gold, pure metal.

The man turned and practically marched, soldierlike, to the other side of the car. He opened a second door, held out his hand, and said, uSir?~~

So this wasn’t Mr. Grant This was a servant. A chauffeur.

Luke could see a very pale hand thrust out of the car and clasp the chauffeur’s. Then a boy stepped out. Luke recognized him from the picture of Smits Grant.

Somehow Luke managed to make his feet maneuver down the stairs, toward the car. Mr. Hendricks had made it quite clear: Luke
had
to act eager to see Smits. He had to rush over to him right away But Luke’s mind was racing faster than his feet.

What am I supposed to do when I get there? Shake his hand? Or—oh, no. What
~f
the Grants are the type offamily who hug one another?

Luke stumbled at the bottom of the stairs but caught his balance again quickly. He didn’t think the chauffeur or Smits even noticed. They weren’t looking toward Luke. Luke planted his feet a mere yard from the younger boy, but he had to clear his throat before Smits turned his head toward Luke.

“Hi, uh, Brother,” Luke said awkwardly.

He lifted his right arm tentatively, to shake hands if that’s what Smits wanted to do. Or if Smits stepped close enough and reached out, Luke could probably force his arms to wrap around Smits in something like a hug. If he had to.

Smits didn’t move.

His cold gray eyes looked straight at Luke— straight through him, it almost seemed. For a horrible second Luke was afraid that Smits was going to refuse to acknowledge him, maybe even yell out, “This boy’s a fraud! He stole my real brother’s name!” Then Smits’s gaze flickered away, and he mumbled, “Hey, Lee.”

Luke exhaled, only barely managing not to let out an audible sigh of relief.

Smits looked at the chauffeur.

“My luggage?” he asked.

“Of course, sir,” the chauffeur said, and walked to the back of the car.

Luke let his half-extended right arm fall back to his side. It was clear that Smits didn’t want Luke to touch him. While Smits was watching the chauffeur, Luke got the nerve to peer past him, into the car. If Mr. and Mrs. Grant were in there, he wanted to be prepared.

“They didn’t come,” Smits said.

Luke jumped. “Huh?”

“Mom and Dad,” Smits said. “They had no interest in accompanying me here.” He sounded so smug saying that, Luke wanted to punch him.

“Oh,” Luke said. “Well, why would they?” He was trying to sound casual, the way he would with his own brothers. His real brothers.

“Because of
me,”
Smits said. “Because they might have wanted to say good-bye to
me.”

CHAPTER 4

By dinnertime the rumors were flying through the school. The new boy had brought four suitcases, his own computer, and a giant TV. The new boy had taken one look at the room he was supposed to share with five other boys, stalked down to the office, and demanded a room of his own. A big one even. The new boy had wandered into the dining hall, gotten one whiff of the evening meal, and instantly ordered that all
his
meals be privately catered, brought in from the city, an hour away.

Luke was willing to believe any of those rumors. But as far as he knew, he was the only boy in the school who had actually met Smits.

“What’s he really like?” They asked as he poked his fork at the tasteless heap of boiled greens on his plate. “Is he truly awful?”

Luke chewed for a minute and swallowed, glad for once that the food was so stringy and tough. It gave him time to think. He shrugged, trying for nonchalance.

“Well, he’s my brother,” Luke said. “Aren’t most brothers awful?”

They snorted. “Your brother—right. So why didn’t
you
bring a computer and a TV? Why don’t
you
have a private room? Why are you eating this slop when you could be having—I don’t know—caviar? Foie gras?”

Luke didn’t have the slightest idea what caviar or foie gras was, but he wasn’t about to admit it. He could feel the whole tableful of boys watching him, waiting for his response. He shrugged again.

“Guess I’m just not as picky as he is,” Luke said. “Guess I’m a nicer person.

Luke was relieved that the other boys had stopped staring at him. Instead, their gaze was trained just beyond him, right over his head.

“Lee,” someone said.

Luke whirled around and saw what the others were looking at It was Smits. Luke felt his face go red. How much had Smits heard?

“Aren’t you going to introduce me?” Smits asked coldly. He slid into a seat beside Luke. The other boys scrambled to make room for him, as if the table actually belonged to Smits and they were just grateful that he wasn’t ordering them away entirely.

“Um, sure,” Luke said. “Everybody, this is my brother, Smits.” He was proud of himself that he could get the words of that colossal lie out of his mouth so smoothly “Uh, Smits, this is They and, um, Robert and Joel and John....”

Smits nodded after each name and reached out his hand for each boy to shake. After some fumbling, Luke’s friends managed to think to stick their hands out as well. Luke wasn’t surprised by his friends’ awkwardness, but he felt strangely ashamed. Why couldn’t They have remembered to put down his fork before he reached out his hand? He’d splashed some of the slimy greens right onto Smits’s shirt And Smits only made it worse, pretending not to notice, just shaking hands right and left, smooth as a politician.

“Nice to meet you,” Smits said again and again. “Nice to meet you.”

Luke remembered what he’d thought when he’d first seen the picture of Smits—that Smits looked like a miniature grown-up. He acted like one, too. Or like a little robot, programmed to say what some stiff, formal grown-up would want a kid to say. Luke had half a mind to yell at him, “Oh, knock it off. Tell us all the truth. Why are you here?”

But of course he didn’t

“So,” Smits said when the introductions were finally over. “Is this a decent place? Lee here hasn’t told me a whole lot Doesn’t write home as much as Mom wants him to.” He gave Luke a playful punch on the arm and sort of winked at the rest of the boys. “I must say, I’ve found the staff quite accommodating.”

Luke figured They was the only one at the table who knew what “accommodating” meant That had to be the reason They actually opened his mouth.

“So they did let you have a private room,” They said. “And get the food you want.”

Smits looked down at the other boys’ meals.

“Sure,” he said. “Nobody could possibly be expected to eat
that.”

Luke saw Joel and John silently put their forks down.

“It’s not so bad,” Luke said. “You should give it a try before you make up your mind.”

Smits laughed.

“No, thanks,” he said. “Mom always did say you had an undiscriminating palate. Dad used to joke, ‘Lee’ll eat anything that doesn’t eat him first’
I’m
not like that”

“Nothing but the best for Smits, right?” Luke said quietly.

Smits clapped him on the back.

“You remembered!” he said. He shoved away from the table. “Well, I’ll be off now. Just wanted to meet Lee’s friends. See you all later.”

And, in total defiance of school rules, he strolled out of the dining hall.

Nobody stopped him. Luke and his friends stared off after him for a full minute.

“What was that all about?” They said finally.

“I haven’t the slightest clue,” Luke said.

CHAPTER 5

They had games after dinner.

This was something that Luke was very proud of. It had been his idea to ask Mr. Hendricks for a time to run and play. Most of his friends, in hiding, had been in small spaces. They’d been trained from birth to be quiet and still, to whisper, not yell, to tiptoe, not run. Their lives had depended on it. Luke didn’t know how many shadow children had ever been discovered because of a poorly timed squeal of joy or a scamper across a creaky floor. He didn’t want to know. But his friends were so good at not moving, at not talking, that they sometimes seemed hidden even now.

“They need a chance to be kids,~ Luke had argued with Mr. Hendricks back at the beginning of the summer. “They need a time to run as fast as they can, to scream at the top of their lungs, to..
.“
Luke hadn’t been able to finish his sentence. He’d been overcome with the memory of all the games he’d played with his brothers—his real brothers.

Football, baseball, kickball, spud. Dodgeball, volleyball, kick the can, tag...

“All right,” Mr. Hendricks had said. “You’re in charge.”

At first Luke’s idea had seemed like a disaster. Boys who had sat still all their lives had no idea how to run. They cowered at the sight of a ball rolling toward them, collapsed in fear to see a football spiraling their way. But Luke had been patient, throwing the balls so slowly they barely seemed to move, applauding anyone who managed even to walk fast And now, after three months, They had a pretty good pitching arm on him, and John was a master at dodgeball, and there was a little kid in the eight-year-old class who could run so fast, he could even beat some of the teachers who occasionally stayed for races.

Luke thought he had every right to be proud. They still mostly played in the dining hall, with all the tables and chairs cleared away, because the idea of going outside was too much for most of the boys. But Luke had hopes. By next summer, he thought, they’d all be outdoors climbing trees, maybe even making up games of their own.

That was what Luke dreamed of, when he wasn’t dreaming of the Population Law being changed.

But tonight, as he began folding up chairs and tables after dinner, Ms. Hawkins, the school secretary, stopped him.

“No games for you tonight, young man,” she said.

Luke gaped at her. Ms. Hawkins never stayed around school until dinnertime, let alone afterward. She was a shadowy figure herself—Luke couldn’t remember her saying

two words to him even once since the first day he’d arrived at school.

Ms. Hawkins went on talking, as if she was used to boys not answering. She probably was.

“You’re to meet your brother in the front hallway instead,” she said. When Luke didn’t move, she snapped, “Now! Get on with you!”

Luke handed her the chair he was holding. She managed to grasp it but looked puzzled, as if she could no longer understand what it was just because it was folded up.

Except for lvft Hendricks, all the staff at the school were a little strange. If Luke hadn’t known better, he would have wondered if they’d all spent their childhood in hiding as well. But the Population Law had been in effect for only fourteen years; Luke was among the oldest kids to come out of hiding. IvW Hendricks had just hired odd people on purpose.

“If Ms. Hawkins ever tried to turn any of you in,” he’d told Luke once, “who would believe her?”

That was true of the teachers, too, and the school nurse. It was even true of the school janitor. Luke understood Mr. Hendricks’s reasoning, but sometimes he longed to be around normal adults. He wasn’t sure now what to believe of Ms. Hawkins’s instructions. What if she was just confused? Shouldn’t Smits be here playing games with the other boys, instead of pulling Luke away, too?

“Didn’t you hear me?” Ms. Hawkins said threateningly.

“Um, sure,” Luke said. “I mean, yes, ma’am.”

He turned and walked toward the door.

“Trey, can you organize the games tonight?” he called to his friend on his way out.

“Wha—how do I do that?” They asked. He sounded as panicked as if Luke had asked him to attack Population Police headquarters.

“Get John to help. And Joel,” Luke said.

Joel and John glanced up from the table they were folding, They looked every bit as stricken as They

Luke had no confidence that they’d manage without him. But he pushed his way out the door anyhow.

The hall outside the dining room was quiet and dimly lit Luke rushed past dark classrooms and offices. He’d just tell Smits to get lost—that’s what he’d do. Smits had no right to order him around.

But when Luke got to the front hallway—an echoey place with ancient-looking portraits on the walls—his resolve vanished. Smits was standing there alone. He had his back to Luke, and for the first time Luke realized what a small boy Smits really was. From behind he looked like the kind of kid you’d pick last for a baseball team.

Then Smits turned around.

“Hey, bro,” he said heartily “I thought you might give me a tour of the school grounds. Let me see what this place is really like.”

“Okay,” Luke said hesitantly

Smits was already pushing open the front door, as if he, not Luke, were the one who knew Hendricks School. They walked down the stairs in silence, then Smits turned