Boy's Home by Michael McDonald

The house was a sprawling two story with dormers. Two large bedrooms with bunk beds housed the boys. A large kitchen produced breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the dozen, orphaned boys, who were deemed 'difficult to handle' by the school district. They were a motley crew, ranging from 8 to 11 years of age. Bobby was the self-proclaimed leader of the pack, while Jordan was the youngest and smallest.

The counselors at the home were college students who provided guidance, with mild reprimands when called for. They provided the boys with recreation, sometimes taking them spelunking in nice weather, or to play in the snow (or attempt to ski) at the nearest ski lodge. Large recreation rooms at the home contained TVs, pool and shuffle board tables, an array of board games, and a few musical instruments for their entertainment (Greg wholeheartedly despised the school boards decision to provide the home with a set of drums). Several second hand sofas and overstuffed chairs provided comfortable seating, if you could ever get this group to sit!

When needed, the counselors held impromptu group discussions for the boys, as well as private talks if one of the boys was especially distraught. Teachers aides and student teachers kept the boys educated. The boys were never going to win a Nobel prize, but at least they'd be able read, write, and do basic math.

Bobby wasn't above cheating on his tests. The counselors heard some of the other boys complain about Bobby bullying them at night for homework answers.

One afternoon, the counselors gathered the boys together for a group discussion, with the intent of hopefully persuading Bobby to stop picking on the other boys.

Greg Lake, the senior counselor, started the session. "I can't begin to tell all of you how much I enjoy watching each and every one of you mature and grow into men. For all of us, each day brings a new adventure, or even a problem, that needs to be dealt with. And having to deal with those situations challenges each of us counselors to resolve each one in the best way possible. With that said, I want each of you to test yourself by doing your own homework. It's not fair to the other boys to steal their answers, or threaten them," as he looks directly at Bobby.

Greg scanned the entire group. "Okay, we're a team. Let's fight the good fight!"

As the group filed out, little Jordan lagged behind. "Mr. Lake," Jordan said timidly.

"Hey Jordan, what's up?" Greg asked.

Jordan had a long, sad face with lovable puppy dog eyes. "Bobby got mad at me last night when I called him stupid and pushed me down."

"Jordan are you okay? He didn't hurt you, did he?" Greg wanted to know.

"No, but I don't like it when he gets mean like that," Jordan mumbled.

"Why did you call him stupid Jordan?" Greg asked.

"I told him he's stupid cause he doesn't know the homework answers. He's mean, Mr. Lake. He says he'll beat up the others if they don't give him the answers."

"Okay Jordan, I'll take care of it. Now go play with the other kids and I'll talk with Bobby," Greg said.

Bobby was standing out of sight just on the other side of the door and heard the whole conversation.

The dining room table was the size of two picnic tables end-to-end. Six boys sat on each side. Bobby was holding court at his end of the table. Snatches of his statements, i.e., "snitch," "get him," "be sorry," made their way around the table, and eventually down to Jordan. Other boys around Jordan discreetly scooted away, making him feel ostracized. His appetite quickly faded. He almost peed his pants before getting out of there.

"Lights out" bellowed from the small loudspeaker system throughout the house and signaled the 8:30 p.m. bedtime. An hour after the boys were bedded down, Bobby and 3 of his cronies quietly made their way to Jordan's room and bed. One boy made his way to the head of Jordan's bed and clapped his hand over Jordan's mouth. The other stronger boys grabbed his small body and made their way to the front of the house. Opening the small storage door beneath the stairs, they roughly shoved Jordan into the space, closed and locked the door, and made their way back to their beds.

Breakfasts were usually fairly jovial around the table, but the following morning's mood was unusually subdued. The counselor's ate in a smaller room next to the dining room and kept an eye on the boy's behavior as they ate. They mentioned to each other it was awfully quiet in there.

"I'm gonna check it out," Greg said. "That's strange!" Greg walked into the boy's dining room, scanned the table where they sat, and immediately noticed Jordan wasn't there.

"Where's Jordan?" he asked. All the boys hung their heads in silence.

Greg asked, a little more forcefully, "Where's Jordan?"

One of Bobby's cronies spoke up and said, "He's not here," which brought about a few giggles and laughter.

Greg walked behind Bobby and placed his hands on Bobby's shoulders. "Bobby, do you know where Jordan is?"

"I dunno," Bobby replied, "maybe he went for a walk." That elicited more snickers and giggles around the table.

Greg choked back his negative feelings. "Bobby, I know you and Jordan have had your differences, if you can call them that. And I know you pushed him down in the study room the other night when he called you stupid." Many in the group drew a sharp breath at that. "Now, I'm gonna ask you one more time, where is Jordan?"

"Well Mr. Lake, Jordan was having a hard time sleeping last night so me and some of my friends decided we'd help him sleep." Subdued snickers and giggles at this.

Greg was desperately trying not to show the panic that was building inside of him. "Bobby, I am responsible for all of you boys. We have to answer to our boss. And if anything bad were to happen to one of you, there'd be a big investigation and police would be swarming all over the place. Now please, I'm begging you, where is Jordan?" At the mention of the word 'police,' most of the wide-eyed boys gasped, and low murmurs were heard.

Bobby, also shocked and scared by the mention of police, said, "Mr. Lake, we didn't hurt him. We were just playing a joke on him."

"Bobby, where is he?" Greg implored.

"Well, we put him in that little room under the stairs Mr. Lake, but I swear we didn't hurt him."

"Bobby, when did you put him in there?" Greg wanted to know.

"Last night after "Lights Out,' Bobby said fearfully.

Greg sprinted to the front of the house with boys following in his wake. Turning sharply to the left, he located the little door under the stairs and twisted the door's catch. He quickly opened the door.

Jordan was gone!