Escape

Distinction (noun) - a difference

The day was approaching fast and still Josh was undecided. Everything had been leading up to this, everything. All the hours of the work, all the results, all the questions, the answers everything. Yet, he was still undecided. The logical answer was to step away from the window, walk back to his bed and crawl under his silk doona and fall asleep on his down-feather pillow, wait for the morning where he would get up at 6:00, walk down stairs, butter the two pieces of toast that his mother will have made and get dressed before walking out the door at half past six and wait seven minutes for his bus which would take him to his station where he would catch the same train as he had been doing for the past five and a half years and sit down to take his final exams. But that was logic, and today, for maybe the first time since his age contained two digits, Josh didn’t want to be governed by logic. He looked back over his shoulder to the note that he had left on top of his clock. He had switched the alarm off so as not to disturb his mother. The clock read 11:54. Just over six hours. Josh smiled and turned to his open window, stepped up onto the ledge on his balcony and leapt. He landed clumsily on the vast expanse of lawn in front of his window, his keys jangling madly as his spidery legs flailed for balance. Then silence as the cool night air closed around him and the perfect garden he stood in. Josh turned his head to the enormous house he had called home for so many years. The tall structure laced with intricate balconies looked so foreign in the darkness. One soft step at a time, Josh made his way to the drive way that held his small Toyota that he had received for his last birthday. Stooping below the frame of the car door, he slotted as elegantly into the car seat as his tall wiry frame would allow. Slowly, dazedly, he placed the key in the ignition and turned. The car spluttered lightly and the dashboard lit up, his tank read full. The sound of the car had not roused Josh’s mother or father and neither did the car’s subtle purr as it rolled down the drive, out the front gate and down the street. Josh stared into the rear-view mirror of the car as he glided through the drowsy streets of the sleeping suburb. His house receded into the distance a smile spread across his face despite his best efforts to contain it. He was far from done yet. He patted his wallet just to reassure himself then picked up the speed down the flat stretch of road, the smile spreading like the metres between him and home.

* * *

Josh pulled up to the kerb where a hooded figure stood waiting for him. The figure removed its hood and scrambled for the passenger seat of the car replicating the enormous grin the driver wore.

“Thought you’d chickened out Josh,” said the figure, his grin spreading impossibly wide. Josh smiled back at the new passenger.

“Never Alex, you know I wouldn’t. Now, shall we rescue another classmate perhaps?” asked Josh with an astoundingly realistic, pompous English accent.

“I do say I would like to,” replied Alex, with an equal attempt at the joke, suddenly he seemed to remember something and his smile faltered. “I thought you said you only told me about this completely stupid yet somehow fool-proof plan. How are we planning on picking up the other two?” questioned Alex.

“Alex,” replied Josh calmly, “You would think that five years of debating would do something to improve my powers of persuasion.” The two laughed, content in one another’s company. Happy, for once, in their surroundings.

* * *

The grey car trundled silently up to the modest house. Josh and Alex grew silent and exchanged a nervous look. “I’ll go in, you keep the car running.” Josh looked outside the window at the simple house and was glad it was only one story. “Wish me luck,” he said before taking a sharp breath and sliding out of the car into the cool night air leaving Alex alone. Alex was a small child by anyone’s standards. He stood at just over 5 foot 8’ but despite his height was fairly stocky. He was wide and muscly, a near polar opposite of Josh, however, the two did share one thing in common. Both of them were incredibly talented and had been picked at a young age as bright boys who would do well in life. Alex had lost his mother at a young age and was raised almost entirely by his father and aunt. Though he had never known his mother, he still felt that there was something missing in his life and was almost certain that her death was at least in part responsible for the hole in his life. His father was a successful orthopaedic surgeon and had always pushed Alex to greater heights and had been the one who had decided his electives, extra-curricular activities and just about all other aspects of Alex’s life since he was eight. This would have bothered Alex less if he had have at least told him what he was doing. As it was, Alex was thrust into a world created by his father. He was a successful cellist and was currently attempting to make it into a medical degree overseas. It mattered little to his father that Alex despised the cello and would have preferred to take a year off to travel and work before deciding on a life course so early. Had his father even asked him once about these things? Alex sat in the car and shivered, this was why he was leaving he thought. The smile returned to his face, though this time it was more bitter than excited.

 

Josh crept through the flat garden that led up to the house. He snuck around to the left-hand side of the house and turned a corner, wedging himself between the house and the neighbour’s fence. He squeezed several metres down to where he knew he would find Simon’s room. Simon had left his window slightly open which saved Josh the hassle of throwing objects at it or knocking. He prized the window wider and snaked his way into the small room. To one side was a door that led out to the main body of the house, the other, a desk littered with books and paper of all types imaginable. Josh smiled at the thought of his mother seeing the mess. Then, lined up against the wall, head at the window, feet pointing to the door, lay Simon on a bed. He inhaled deeply and released his breath with a light sigh. Josh walked up to his bed and shook his shoulder lightly. A low grumble and semi-conscious complaint arose from Simon before his breathing returned to normal. Josh allowed a small laugh to pass his lips before trying again. This time, a dazed Simon greeted him with bleary eyes.

“Josh?” he questioned, unsure as to what was real and what was a dream, “What are you doing here Josh? It’s so late and the exams start tomorrow, how did you get in?” Simon struggled to put his thoughts into words but didn’t struggle to do so loudly. Quickly hushing him, Josh explained the situation to a somewhat more conscious Simon. As he continued his explanation, Simon grew more alert and surprisingly, more excited. Josh hadn’t even finished his explanation before Simon was up and moving. Josh stared at Simon while he struggled with a pair of jeans.

“Well…Simon…uh,” Josh floundered for words, taken aback by Simon’s eagerness. Simon returned Josh’s faltering syllables with a large grin.

“I have my reasons for wanting to go,” he explained, tapping around his bedside table for his wallet, “I was thinking of trying to get out of these exams one way or another. This will be way more fun though.” Simon picked up a pen and scribbled a note on the back of one of the multitudes of sheets that lay on his desk. “You don’t mind if I…” he started and was waved ahead by Josh. “It’s not like I’m not ready for this,” he said, “It’s just that if I had to do one more thing that that school wanted me to I would have had to have killed someone. It’s just not me. It’s not who I am.” Simon looked around the room, as if a parent or sibling might spring into the room as he spoke. “You want to know something?” he whispered, drawing closer to Josh, “I hate that school. If it were up to me I would have left years ago. It’s just not fair that because I am a good student I have to do particle physics or bio engineering. I mean, not even so much as an, ‘Oh, Simon, how would you feel about taking up quantum mechanics for us? We do think you would be rather good at it.’ No. they just threw me in at the deep end and hoped I could float. Bunch of pricks. Here’s to you Bellview,” he said raising both his middle fingers whilst blowing a childish, but no less funny, raspberry. He smiled at Josh as he tucked the note he had scribbled under his alarm clock. “Shall we depart?”

“I think we shall,” said Josh as he watched Simon jump out his window. He looked back one last time at Simon’s room. The clock read 12:43.

The two of them shuffled silently across the lawn, making their way to the car with as much as speed as they dared risk. Upon reaching the car and sliding in Simon looked at Alex with a grin and greeted him with little surprise in his voice.

“Not surprised to see me?” said Alex with mock disappointment.

“Nah,” replied Simon, “I figured we’d need someone with medical training on the trip. I wouldn’t be surprised if there were a few limbs lost on this poorly planned voyage.” The three boys laughed.

“I’ll have you know,” said Josh, “that Alex and I planned this for nearly a whole hour over the phone. This might as well be called the Battle of Troy of escapes, what with all the cunning that went into this!”

“Sounds more like the Charge of the Light Brigade if you ask me,” said Simon.

“Ah, but was there a man dismay’d?” Josh questioned, looking around to Simon and Alex. The three of them broke out into a fit of laughter, partly because of the joke, partly because of the obscenity of the whole situation. Josh pulled out from the side of the road and on rode the six hundred.

* * *

There final stop brought them to a small, run down looking house. The house was white in a bleached way rather than a painted way and where Simon’s house was modest, this house was just poor. The house leaned slightly to the left and this, mixed with the barren, grassless yard and colour made the whole house seem sick, as if it had some horrid plague and had crawled here to live out its days in peace. The car slid into the scene, silent and slow, not wanting to wake the dying house. A sole figure jumped out of the car and ran across the dustbowl of a yard. A window opened after some light knocking and the figure slid into the house, leaving the car and its two inhabitants to themselves.

“So Simon, how have you been?” asked Alex, still grinning from the novelty of his world right now. Simon smiled back.

“Not too bad Alex my boy, not too bad.” Simon, for once, was telling the truth. Another truth was that there were few days that Simon had been doing well since he hit high school. Simon was incredibly talented by nature, far more so than his other two brothers who had gone through school before him and were never anything incredible. Both skipped university and took up apprenticeships as soon as they could. Simon was very close to his brother’s despite the fact that his last brother moved out a year ago. He was 18 and his brothers Tim and Angus were twenty-two and twenty-four respectively, making Simon a youngest child. Simon was incredibly close to Tim as he had been the only one who he had told about his depression. Simon was fifteen when he had told Tim about his problem. Tim had taken time out of his HSC revision to help Simon and eventually, after two long years, had helped him find his happiness. Though Simon may forget the sadness and the thoughts he had, he will never be rid of the scar that runs up his left arm, a reminder of how things might have been if it weren’t for Tim, who saved him on the darkest of nights. He still wears long-sleeved shirts, even in the midst of summer. From then on, Simon knew that all he wanted to do with his life was to make people happy. His natural talent, however, meant that he felt a responsibility to his parents to be something greater. So, he took up electives that would take him places. French, chemistry, four unit maths and English and economy. If truth was told he didn’t know what he would do once he was out of school. What would a fluent French speaking economist do with his life? Simon talked to Alex and joked as he always did. For once in his life he was certain of a choice he made, and he was happy.

Josh climbed into Henry’s room with slightly less care than he did with Simon’s for the room was less cramped for room than Simon’s. An unstable-looking bed stood in one corner and a desk and rickety chair in the other. Shirts, pants and other clothing items lay in neat, folded piles along one wall of the room and the opposite wall contained the door. Were the room more furnished it would have been small but the distinct lack of anything created a bareness that rivalled the backyard, only made worse by the raw floorboards. Returning his focus to the questioning look he was receiving from the boy who let him in, Josh started to explain. Henry really was just that, a boy. Younger by anyone else in the grade by two years, Henry had been accelerated twice and was now the youngest student at Bellview to have ever sat the HSC. Or that is at least, if he were to sit it. Henry was nothing short of a genius. His memory was more reliable than several computers and often twice as vast. Henry knew everything there was to know about maths and all things related to it as well as several topics of science and Latin. He was a dictionary-definition of the word scholar. He stood at a little over one and a half metres and-unlike Alex-had a build suited to it. Josh could be described as wiry where Henry was more thin or meagre. He would have been a target for bullying if he hadn’t been so incredibly smart. Henry, for all his brains, was not rich. The house and his room told the story quite well really. Henry’s father had left the family when Henry was too small to remember and his mother had never remarried. With only one salary and four people to feed, clothe and educate, Henry and his brother and sister were home-schooled, taking online courses while their mother worked. That was, until Henry’s mother realised how well Henry was doing. Seeing his potential, she pooled together everything she could to send him to Bellview where he was placed in the top class for all his subjects. He was accelerated in Year 8 and again the next year. Henry was the only child of his direct family that would ever do this well. In fact, he was the only child to ever receive a formal education. ‘Were he in different circumstances,’ thought Josh, ‘he would be the greatest mind of our time.’ As it was, Henry was a sixteen-year old boy, standing in front of Josh in his bed clothes, yawning and listening to Josh looking unimpressed.

“I see,” he said slowly once Josh had finished. “How do you plan to fund this trip?”

“We can pool the money in our wallets and use our credit cards. We don’t have to live it up while we are gone. We won’t need much.” Josh could sense that this was going to be much harder than convincing Simon.

“Josh, you know that they will come for you. They will try and find you and probably will. Especially if you use your credit cards, they can track that you know.” Henry was not seeming impressed. “How can you just do this? Don’t you think that your parents will be worried? I know you left notes but what would you think if your son disappeared on the start of the most important set of exams he will ever sit?” Josh took a breath to say something but was cut short by more reason from Henry. “What of the exams? Are you just going to throw it all away? How do you plan on getting the job you want?” Now it was Josh’s turn.

“Henry,” he said, “You know as well as I do that HSC is mattering less and less to employers. We could choose a low ATAR course in any university and transition into any course we wanted because we are all smart enough, especially you. If we don’t turn up, they will also have to use our trial exams as our results and all of us would end up with high 99 scores. This is just a chance to explore the world while we still can. Henry out there,” Josh said emphatically, sweeping his hand towards the window, “is a whole world with so many more people that you probably haven’t even thought of. Seven billion. Seven billion souls and counting and we have experienced what? A hundred? Doesn't that bother you?” Josh could see he was winning.

“I don’t know Josh. All I have ever wanted was to do well in school. I mean, I can’t remember the last time I didn't get a high distinction just because I worked so hard. I mean, it’s all I have lived for over the past six years. A high distinction in exams.” Josh seized his opportunity.

“Henry, tell me, what is a distinction?” he questioned. Henry stood, unsure as to what to think.

“A distinction,” he said slowly, “is a difference, something that sets other objects, people or patterns apart. You know that though.”

“Exactly,” said Josh, “I know that. Do you? Are you really setting yourself apart from others by doing exactly what the world says you should? Think about it Henry, the meaning of life is to be happy. Are you happy? Does this make you happy? If it does then I have no business here. I will leave you and you can go and be the incredible person you were destined to be. If you’re not happy,” Josh paused and stared directly at Henry. “If you are not happy then we are right outside.” Without another word Josh exited out the window and scurried across the waste-landish lawn and sat in the car, leaving Henry alone with his thoughts.

 

“Josh we should go, the longer we are here the more chance of being caught we have,” Alex had been nervous throughout the whole twenty minutes they had been waiting. As always Josh replied with a determined silence. He knew what he had seen and he knew he would wait. Simon and Alex must have found some comfort in the steely silence, Simon more so, as they had never truly lost their temper. Josh sat, thinking over and over, ‘He’ll come.’ A small flurry. A mouse? A bird? A window. A window opening to be precise, and a small figure emerging from it. The figure, darkly clad with a small ruck sack on one shoulder scuttled across the dusty yard and entered the car silently. Josh smiled. Alex sighed a smile and Simon started laughing. No words were exchanged as the car started rolling. In fact no words were exchanged for some time. It was hard for the boys to speak whilst laughing so hard. The car rolled onwards. The dashboard clock read 1:46.