No Safe Place by Deborah Ellis Page B

hallway.
    â€œYou again!”
    Cheslav was lifted out of the middle of the fray by the housemother’s strong arms. She carried him out of the dorm.
    â€œI’ve had enough.” She tossed him into the supply closet and locked him in the dark.
    Cheslav jumped and roared and clawed at his surroundings. Everything he could reach he yanked down from the shelves and threw against the walls. The blankets fell to the floor. The bars of soap and cleaning supplies ricocheted off the walls, often hitting him in the head but he didn’t stop.
    He threw himself over and over against the locked door.
    Finally, he fell to the floor in exhaustion. He made himself a nest in the blankets. And slept.
    / / / / / / / /
    â€œWhat about this one?”
    The housemother brought Cheslav forward. A tall man in a military uniform peered down at him.
    â€œHe doesn’t look big enough,” the man said. “We don’t take boys before they’re seven.”
    â€œCheslav just turned seven,” the housemother said. “He’s small but he’s strong. I think he’s just what you’re looking for.”
    â€œWhat are these marks on his head?”
    Cheslav still had scars from things landing on him in the closet.
    â€œPlayground injuries,” the housemother said. “You know how boys are.”
    The uniformed man was all sharp corners and straight lines, all shiny brass buttons and dangling medals. He bent at the waist to look at Cheslav more closely.
    â€œCheslav, is it? I’m the dean of the junior school at the Siberian Military Academy. Step forward, boy. Let’s see how strong you are.”
    Cheslav didn’t like being stared at, but the man made him hold out his arms and keep his head high.
    â€œNice straight back,” the man said. “Parents?” he asked the housemother.
    â€œFather dead in a mining accident just after Cheslav was born. His mother found herself an Australian husband and left the country.”
    â€œShe’s coming back for me,” Cheslav said.
    â€œI’m sure she is,” the man said. “And when she does, she’ll be proud to see her little boy standing tall like a man, all smart and polished in a cadet uniform. What do you say? Would you like to come to my academy?”
    The man was smiling. He looked right at Cheslav as if Cheslav’s opinion mattered very much.
    â€œMy mother won’t be able to find me if I leave.”
    â€œWe’ll leave your new address with the housemother here. You don’t want to stay at the Baby House forever.” The man raised himself up to speak with the housemother.
    â€œWe’ll take him right away,” he said. “Best not to give him too much time to think about it.”
    Cheslav was bundled into the dean’s car that very morning, his few belongings packed into an old Aeroflot shoulder bag.
    â€œYou be nice to everybody,” the housemother said as she waved goodbye. “Then everybody will be nice to you.”
    The academy was a few hours’ drive from the Baby House, on the outskirts of Irkutsk.
    â€œYou look like a brave boy,” the dean said to Cheslav as they pulled into the grounds of the Siberian Military Academy. “You probably don’t cry much. Am I right about that?”
    Cheslav nodded. He cried at night sometimes, but the man probably couldn’t know that.
    â€œGood for you. Here’s a piece of advice. Don’t let the other boys see you cry. Ever. They will make fun of you, and I want you to enjoy your time at my academy. I was a student here, and they were the best years of my life. Do you think you can do that? Enjoy yourself and learn?”
    â€œMy mother will be able to find me?”
    The dean sighed. “She’ll find you.”
    â€œThen I will learn.”
    Inside the academy, Cheslav was handed over to his dormitory master, a boy named Gregor from the ninth form. Gregor took