Hampton, August of 1933
Hampton, August of 1933
Tom Riddle was planing that day for months.
It must be a day like that: no rain even if the sky was full of heavy clouds, but the sun on that day was even better.
Sister Joan was the one responsible for the gates. It was not like she was stupid, but Tom knew she hated children. For the worse luck of hers, she was now working in a orphanage full of them, and she tried to avoid unnecessary contact. Plus she was too distracted to the new gardener to notice the little boy cautiously taking the streets.
Tom reviewed his plan again in his mind. He already could read the addresses of the streets, better than ever before. The nuns even let him stay in the library for these days.
He had a little money on his bag. The first time he tried to put his plan in action, it was the lack of money and how to handle it that went wrong. But now it was different. His last months were focused in learn how to steal - he always had listen the older boys sharing the tricks, just never paid attention before. After a few time hearing they discuss how to do it - they did not bother with his presence if he doesn’t speak anything to anyone, after all, and he had to swear to them no nun would hear about it, or he would get the worse drubbing of his life, they made clear - he started to take some coins, little by little, from the adults who visited the orphanage or specifically in the box people would pay the tithe. He was not sure how much he would need, but hoped to have enough.
In a scrap of paper was written the most important piece of information he could have: an address. To the Riddle’s Manor in the countryside, or at least, it’s what he wanted to believe.
It cost him days and nights observing the Director’s room and even paying some pennies to the older boys - he had tried to picklock the door himself, but gave up after a week of frustration and being almost caught. But finally he got access to his own archives, and there was his mother complete name - Merope Brigid Riddle, and remarked in small letters , he discovered an address in Little Hampton, a village in the countryside. It was better than he had expected, indeed. He was afraid he would got only his mother’s name with no other information.
But now the work was just beginning. He had to discover how to get in that address.
The first place he went was in an old watch-house, one with high Victorian walls and a store owner who seemed to be alive since those days too.
“So, what do you want, little boy?” The man asked when he entered, giving him a brief look before focus again his attentions on the watch he was working.
“Hello, mister. Please, how can I go to this address?”
The benefit of staying away from the other kids is that Tom had a lot of time to observe the adults and how they interacted between them. One the first things he learned was about how to talk to them: he could always hear they comments about how the good behaved children could gain their sympathies. It should be true, because his good behaviour when talking always worked pretty well with the nuns at the orphanage, and the ones who went to visit it.
But now was time to discover if it worked with the outside world.
The man looked up to him, as if just then he noticed the boy. Slowly he lift from his chair and went to the counter.
“Let’s me see it…” he took the paper from Tom’s hand “Hm, the Riddle’s house. What do you want from them, boy?”.
“I had some errands to give them, sir”.
The old man adjusted his glasses to see the boy. The orphanage uniform.
What Tom did not know was about how the Riddles were a very well-known family in that place. Even if their heir, a young man, went quite recluse in the last years after a scandal with a pauper girl, that man had uncountable visits to the city before, making all girls sigh in hope to get invited at some ball in the Manor’s.
And just someone who had a very bad memory to not perceive how the boy was a younger version of that man.
The watch-maker, however, was someone who used to boast about how good was his memory.
“Well, then…” the man spoke slowly, considering his words “These errands… are somehow important?”.
“Very important, sir” the boy nodded.
The old man sighed. It was not his business to care about a orphanage’s child, less yet about this child family’s business. But the insistent black eyes kept staring at him with awaiting.
“Fine, let me explain to you how you get there…”.
The sun was burning his skin, making him wet with suor, and the little boy would love a bit of water.
Tom had bought a bottle when he left the orphanage, but he had drank it until the end almost an hour ago.
The dirty road to the countryside had some trees at its margins, but the boy was afraid he would give up his walking if he sit to rest a bit. Or worse, he could fall asleep and only wake up at the night, lost and alone there.
Not for the first time, he asked himself if the watch-maker had lied to him about the address. He was walking enough to the sun went to his peak and by Tom suppositions, it should be almost middle of afternoon by now.
A few carriages had passed him on the road, but nobody seemed to care about the boy walking at its side.
“You know, maybe I’m just wasting time” he murmured to himself, finally sitting under a tree and looking for the sandwich on his pocket he had bought with the water.
“But I don’t want to go back to the orphanage too” he continued, taking a bite, trying to organize his thoughts “I will be castigated if I just go back now”.
“It’s not justify taking the place of another one nesting, you know” an angry, hissing voice replied him.
“What?” he looked at his sides, searching for the one who replied him “There is someone here?”.
“Take a look down, human child”.
The boy looked at the grass, to find a light green and black snake at the grass at his side. It eyes looked more bored than angry, he thought.
“Oh, hi. I’m sorry. Do you say am I at your resting place?”.
“Yes, behind you there is a hole in the wood, look”.
Tom turned to the tree. It was true. Near the roots were he was sitting there was a something similar as hole.
“Oh, I’m sorry” he moved to the side, giving the snake space to enter the hole.
Replying with something similar as a satisfied hiss, the animal entered the hole.
“It’s awfully hot today, child” it replied him “What a human child are doing alone here?”.
“If it’s so hot, why do you left your place?” was the boy answer.
“I had to eat, you know” it replied in the same bored tone “and there was a very nice little vole passing for me to ignore”.
The boy replied with a grimace “It’s doesn’t sound nice”.
“Your problem. More for me then”.
They kept the next moments in silence. Then Tom started again “Miss snake…”.
“What is, human child?”.
“Do you know some human place near here?”.
It put its head outside the hole, looking at him curiously “Maybe I do. There is a place with some human nests nearby”.
“Really?” the boy looked at it with interest.
“My nose says so. It’s made sense. You come from that people, then?”.
“What people?”.
“Do you not? The ones my ancestors told us. Humans who used to speak with us. It’s not anyone who can do it”.
“Really?” Tom almost jumped from his place “And where they live?”.
“Maybe at the end of the road? You is the first of you kind I have seen, child”.
“Oh, then I must be going. Thank you miss snake!” the boy started to run in the road.
The snake looked at the last bit of sandwich the boy forget in the ground in his anxiety. The smell was not interesting.
“And the human child talks about my food. Hmpf” it hissed to itself before enter its hole to sleep.
Tom was breathless when he saw the manor.
It was beautiful and imposing, seeming old. He could guess it had some centuries.
The little boy eyes were widen in awe. It was there his family lived? For real?
For sure his father was the one that snake talked about. He always knew he was different, after all, he thought with hope. He was smarter than the other children in the orphanage, and now the snake told him that he was special for understand its talking.
He had already read stories about heroes who could talk to animals, and went to great adventures. Could he be one of them?
Smiling to himself, he approached to the manor.
The garden was enormous, the grass carefully trimmed.
In these days, he already read in some newspaper that gardens are expensive to care and needed workers, so they should have someone to do that. And money to pay the expense.
“Aye lad! What you doing here?” a voice screamed behind him when Tom was close to the door. The boy jumped, turning with most quickly possible.
It was a middle aged man, with poor and mud dirty clothes, a straw hat in his head.
“Hello, mister, I’d like to see Mister Thomas Riddle”.
“The young or the old?”.
“Ah, well… I don’t know”.
The man looked at him suspiciously “And what you want them for, lad?”.
“I would ask some questions… about him”.
“Whata?”
Tom took a deep breath “And about my mother”.
The man looked at him puzzled, then suddenly started to laugh. It was anything but nice. Tom felt his ears burning with shame.
“Aye… I see. Sorry, no mister Thomas for you. Neither young ner old. Now, out!”.
“What? But mister, I need to see him!”.
“Nah, you don’t. Out of here, lad, before I lose my nerves”.
Tom tried again, and a second and third time, reaching to the door and got caught on the way to the bell.
“Come on, lad” the man losing his patience finally, took him by the ear, when a carriage arrived. Tom kicked the man leg and ran in that direction.
“Mister! Mister!” the boy cried
“What is that?” .
There were two young man looking at him: the first of them with red hair with a few beard and a blue shirt, a few freckles on his face. But the second one who left Tom astonished.
Thomas Riddle was a tall, magnificent young man, with piercing dark blue eyes and black sender hair in an elegant hairstyle that matched his high cheekbones.
Tom looked at the man with his mouth open. It was looking himself in a mirror, but several years ahead.
“Oh my goodness” he heard the ginger man whisper, but his face kept focused on the one who only could be his father.
Thomas was staring at him with an astonished face, as if he was seeing a dead person walking.
“Sir… hello?” little Tom tried.
“How… how do you get here?”.
“I found this address in the director’s office in the orphanage, sir. And I almost thought I was lost, but then the miss snake told me to keep going and…”
“Pardon? Who told you what?” Thomas gave a little cry.
“The miss snake I found under I tree, sir. She told me some people used to talk to them before. I assume she was talking about your family, sir?”.
The astonishment left place to a horrified expression in Thomas face.
“Oh…my… God. Oh my God, it’s not happening! This can’t be happening! Someone! Put this boy, this thing, out of here!”
“Tom, calm yourself…” the ginger man started, but it was immediately interrupted by the first.
“You heard, Edward! You heard what this child said! Talking to snakes? He could only be one of these demons!”.
The boy looked at both with an incredulous expression. He had said it expecting his father would be proud, not something like that.
“Sir? But I…” Tom gave a step ahead the man who looked like his father, his hand trying to touch him.
The man gave him a slap in his hand, making the boy retrieve his hand, while the man himself took a step back.
“Monsters! You took the same curse of that witch! I bet this is not even your real face, and you are trying to catch me in those tricks again! Don’t come near me, demon’s child! I esconjure you!”.
The workers of the manor were gathering around them, some with curious eyes, others murmuring something among themselves.
“Tom, please” Edward started again “He is a child, and it’s a scorching hot day. Of course he is just imagining things. You’re making a scene”.
“You don’t understand! I lived with that woman! The things she could do, no one blessed by God could move things or talk with snakes like she could. The boy took after them, it’s obvious!”.
“Tom…” Edward tried to call Thomas.
“Sir, please…” the young Tom whispered in his last hope the man would stop screaming.
“Get out of here, your freak! You are a aberration, exactly as your mother! Your devil work-shippers! In the name of Jesus I command you to leave right now!”
The man advanced aggressively towards the boy, but the ginger man intervened.
“Okay, Tom, it’s okay, let me handle from here. Tell auntie I had resolve some errands, right?”.
With a rapid gesture from the ginger man, the workers of the manor were calmly around Thomas, talking about sitting and taking a cup of tea, while the carriage driver went back to his place.
All of them carefully avoiding to touch or even going closer the little boy, it was not hard to perceive.
“Are you crazy? Are you planning to enter the carriage with this monster? Don’t I tell you what they can do?”.
“Please, Tom, it’s just a child. Come with me, lad”.
The man called Thomas looked with disgust to the boy, his eyes straightened with loathing.
The boy called Tom was too shocked to react. He kept staring at the man he had believed who would welcome him, his expression blank. His pale face more white than the habitual. The ginger man talked again.
“Come on, boy. It’s time to go back home. It’s that the orphanage uniform, right?” the ginger man held his arm, in direction of the carriage.
Tom did not move at first, staring at that man, but finally gave Thomas a last look before entering the carriage, his expression now looked in himself.
“I’m sorry, lad, but I don’t think you will find anyone with open arms here.” the man commented, looking at the window “What is your name, boy?”.
The young boy lift his eyes to the man’s height, expressionless “It’s Tom, sir”.
Tom saw the older man’s eyes widen with his answer “Oh, my goodness. And what did happen to your mother, Tom?”.
“She is dead”.
“Oh… I’m sorry, lad, really”.
They don’t talked in the remaining of the path. The ginger man tried to offer him food or water, explaining him there was a village near the manor, but the boy did not replied, his stare fixed on his hands.
Tom did not know how to even feel about it, a suffocating feeling in his throat, his chest heavy as he had just being punched for one the older boys. He tried to breath deeper when saw a tear falling from his face, a drop of water falling in his hands.
He would not cry, he could not cry, he repeated to himself. It was not aching. It was easy to breath. It was not making his voice disappear inside his dry throat.
The sun was starting to set when they arrived. Tom entered the door in company of Edward, ignoring the sisters screaming his name and going at his direction.
Instead, he untangled himself from their arms and ran towards the orphanage gates.
Sister Celine went after him.
“Tom! What did happen here? Have you any idea about how worried are we?” she scolded the boy with preoccupied eyes, her hand taking off his hair from his eyes.
“Sister… I promise I will not run. But please, let me stay here alone”.
Something in his eyes made the woman look at him with agreement. Maybe because she knew that broken expression, and she guessed what just happened. Maybe because the little boy was indeed her favorite and now he looked beyond help. She sighed, maintaining the silence for a while before reply him.
“Just half an hour, okay? You need to clean yourself and eat something, okay?”.
The boy nodded. Sister Celine cared his hair, lost in thought. Reverend Mother would scold her to no end for not giving the boy any punishment, but it was not the most important part, she thought. She had a broken child in front of her, and differently from another times when something like that happened with those children, she did not know how to act. Tom used to refuse embraces or physical care, and it seemed he did not want to talk about what happened either. She could talk to him, but was afraid he would not listen by now.
So she left him to his own mind, making a remark to look after him later that night.
Edward stayed inside the orphanage for quite some time. It was already dark when he left the door, passing through the pale boy sat in one of the stairs, his expressions serious while he stared to the street outside.
“No more running, right, lad?” he murmured in warm voice, his hand over Tom’s shoulder.
The boy did not reply. The ginger man had already turned when he heard the boy’s voice.
“Don’t need to worry, sir. I don’t intend to go there anymore”.
The man came back, sitting at the boy’s side. At least now the young Tom was looking at him, his resemblance with his father more stunning than before.
Except for their expression. Thomas never had such serious, old eyes. The guilty gave Edward a quick pain in his stomach.
“Just for you to understand... I have no problems to say hello for you and sent you back here, but others could not have the patience... and nobody cares about a missing orphan these days”.
Tom wished he had not understood. But he did.
“Sir, are you saying they will kill me if I go after my father again?”
Edward sighed. He felt suddenly older, and tired. The guilty pain went worse. He would not argue with the boy about calling Thomas his father when it was pretty obvious the little boy was indeed his cousin’s child.
“Never said life is fair, lad” he played with the black locks on the boy’s head for a while, before nodding his head “Well, I have to go. Hope you do well in life, lad”.
Tom looked the man going inside his carriage and then left out the orphanage gates, and going farther, until there was nobody there to be seen. Just the summer air carried with humidity and a little boy with black eyes and black hair, and a expression far older a child like that should have.
That night, while the father, Thomas, had another peaceful night of sleep well conducted by his pills, the boy, the one called Tom, stared at the ceiling of the orphanage most of the night, unable to rest.