The Graveyard of Rats

By Tomasz Hejnowicz

It's 7.40 a.m within the cold walls of the silent school building. There is a boy standing in one of its endlessly long halls, gazing out of the window, looking at the empty, squared schoolyard and the school gym. He can hear the creaking of the swaying bathroom door and the wind blowing through the halls. Where is everybody? And why is he so afraid? Everything seems to be alright and yet he feels a knot in his stomach. Suddenly some silent voices start emerging out of nowhere and now fear spreads all over his body. Are those coming from his head? They sound demanding, dissatisfied, disappointed. They want to humiliate him. He starts to run, but there is nowhere to escape - he hall leads to the closed door of the gym. He runs anyway, runs for his life, even though there is no one actually chasing him. Filled with panic, he stops, wanting to jump out of the rusty window, but it's too big and too heavy and impossible to open. His body starts to shake.
He wakes up and regains consciousness. Thank God, it's still August. His last days of peace and quiet before he goes back to school to teach children, like he did for so many years now. It's the third time he had that same dream. First time he dreamed it when he was in primary school, second time before one of the winter exam sessions and third time just now, by the end of Summer holiday.
Rats, school rats everywhere. They run in the basement, they swim in sewage, avoiding enemies for their entire life. They form mysterious groups, that can kill their victim in a blink of an eye. They can mercilessly compete with each other. They are able to survive in most extreme conditions. They are practically invincible...and yet eventually death always gets them. Where do they die? Actually, very often they choose too pass away in the dark and forgotten underground areas of schools! Because once a rat gets into a school, it often can't find its way out and stays there for ever. It doesn't know the world outside of school nor does it want to know any other world. It is safe to eat scraps and then die among them. A graveyard of rats.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tomasz Hejnowicz
• Release date: Feb 2, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370390465

Tomasz Hejnowicz

Tomasz Hejnowicz (born: 1958)The author of books such as "Jak ograbić starą ciotkę i być szczęśliwym", "Cmentarz szczurów" ("The graveyard of rats"), "To ja ukradłem panu samochód", "Światło" ("The Light") and "Gorące lato i mroźna zima". Flunked the senior year in high school. A former competitive-sports practitioner. Work physically and studied, simultaneously. Studied sociology, completed pedagogy studies as well as an additional, postgraduate course. Has recently become a grandfather. A Former tutor, teacher and a representative of the educational labor union. Lives in Poznań.https://sites.google.com/view/tomaszhejnowicz/

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PREFACE

It's 7.40 a.m within the cold walls of the silent school building. There is a boy standing in one of its endlessly long halls, gazing out of the window, looking at the empty, squared schoolyard and the school gym. He can hear the creaking of the swaying bathroom door and the wind blowing through the halls. Where is everybody? And why is he so afraid? Everything seems to be alright and yet he feels a knot in his stomach. Suddenly, some silent voices start emerging out of nowhere and now fear spreads all over his body. Are those coming from his head? They sound demanding, dissatisfied, disappointed. They want to humiliate him. He starts to run, but there is nowhere to escape - the hall leads to the closed door of the gym. He runs anyway, runs for his life, even though there is no one actually chasing him. Filled with panic, he stops, wanting to jump out of the rusty window, but it's too big and too heavy and impossible to open. His body starts to shake.

He wakes up and regains consciousness. Thank God, it's still August. His last days of peace and quiet before he goes back to school to teach children, like he did for so many years now. It's the third time he had that same dream. First time he dreamed it when he was in primary school, second time before one of the winter exam sessions and third time just now, by the end of the Summer holiday.

Rats, school rats everywhere. They run in the basement, they swim in sewage, avoiding enemies all life long. They form mysterious groups, that can kill their victim in a blink of an eye. They can mercilessly compete with each other. They are able to survive in most extreme conditions. They are practically invincible...and yet eventually death always gets them. Where do they die? Actually, very often they choose to pass away in the dark and forgotten underground areas of schools! Because once a rat gets into a school, it often can't find its way out and stays there for ever. It doesn't know the world outside of school nor does it want to know any other world. It is safe to eat scraps and then die among them. A graveyard of rats.

Krzysztof, our main character, was born at school, in a sense, he spent his whole life there. This is no fairy tale... but it is an educational tale, which I will share with you gladly.

First school experience

Krzysztof's great school adventure began in the sixties. Of course at first, he felt like a mere little boy, led by amazingly wise grown-ups into a new world.

School, however, was actually not that new to the kid. After years of imprisonment, his father got a job as a stoker in a local school and was offered an apartment. It consisted of one, dark room with high ceiling, a kitchen and a bathroom. Initially, it was enough for the 4-person family. Children were slowly growing up. Those were tough times and little Krzysio didn't know or understand much of what was going on. His parents never talked about his father's past. The label of an enemy of the people's government, who was particularly dangerous to the restoration of the Polish People's Republic wasn't something to brag about in front of friends.

From his first school years, Krzyś remembered only those matters that concerned him. He remembered ink in the ink stab and some nursery rhymes he remembered walking through the hallways and playing traffic with classmates. He was proud when it was his turn to dress as a policeman and guide the traffic. It was the only day when he got to tell his classmates what to do. He didn't do a particularly good job though, because there were a few crashes.

Krzyś remembered sweaty, black and blue, school uniforms made from shiny cotton and proudly worn, blue, school badges. He remembered the tiring exercise of writing letters in a three-lined notebooks and drawing colorful patterns at the end of every lesson. He remembered wooden pens with their shiny nibs and the ink stabs stuck inside the desks.

Krzyś had particularly remembered the 1st-May celebration at school and the performance, in which he played a laborer with tongs sticking out of his pocket. He remembered an enormous stage fright and stammering into the microphone.

He was a good boy, who rarely caused trouble. When in conflict, he was more likely to cry than to act aggressively. Once, just before a class, he got painfully kicked and complained about it tearfully to his teacher: He kicked me in my balls! The teacher's and children's laughter remained in his memory for a long time and soon he learned how to deliberately make others laugh. Teachers were not happy about it and were very hard on him, but it didn't stop him for bringing goof fun to the class. He couldn't understand how his behavior could be so irritable to the teachers and why he was punished for his innocent jokes.

The following years flew by like a dream and didn't leave many memories. Either nothing exciting happened or his everyday life was just plain boring. He held the most pleasing memories however, such as warm, Summer evenings or picking berries from the bushes in the schoolyard. Once he played doctor with a female classmate and was amazed to find out that she had different body parts from him.

At the age of ten, Krzyś started to develop his first fears. There was a little rascal on the playground, that terrorized other children, but because his father was an officer the kid was untouchable. The local municipal policeman always refused to intervene in cases that involved that rascal. Once, having had a drink with Krzysio's father, the Sergeant said: I'm helpless when it comes to this kid. His father is a big officer. I could lose my job.

The school difficulties seemed more common and down-to-earth. Kids dreaded, for instance, being tested on times table and rhymes. Our little boy spent his evenings practicing them aloud in the toilet and in the class, he did whatever he could to hide his frightened face and avoid being called on. To the poor kids from poor families, every class was hell that must have been got through. They learned to sidestep.

During breaks, one could come across some bad guys in school hallways. Those were mostly children from problem families, repeating classes over and over again. Other children knew that one, unfortunate look at a bad guy could result in being hit or spat on. They were however, way more predictable than the little rascal. They did not attack unless provoked. Everyone secretly knew that those guys were responsible for stealing pocket money and lunch boxes. One of them had a funny last name and even though no one dared to make fun of it, he would punch whoever got in his way, just in case.

Our boy did mostly well at school. He was an average student and his biggest nightmare was maths. He was terrible at equations – he would always miscalculate something. He understood mathematical problems, but his calculating problems always made them impossible to solve. Maybe he was a case of what today would be called discalculia, or perhaps he simply had a bad teacher. Three years before Krzyś graduated, his class was introduced to a new maths teacher, a man named Tytus, who had married the former teacher later on. And ever since he became a teacher, all the fear that tormented Krzyś before those lessons, just faded away. The man knew how to make maths look simpler. He always explained everything thoroughly. He was patient and had a good sense of humor. Thanks to the new teacher, Krzyś started to like maths and started to make real progress in it. Those lessons were no longer a problem.

Sometimes, when bored in class, our boy would gaze through the window, at the green alley and observed the trees that changed their looks seasonally. Sometimes he spotted some cars or tractors. That was much more interesting than looking towards the blackboard or at the rare The world outside the window seemed safer and more welcoming. In those moments he missed home, holidays and wished he could scape this closed building filled with bored kids. He felt that many of the school subject will be useless in the future, although he didn't know who he wanted to be as a grown-up. He just lifelessly did what he was told to do.

When the weather was cruel, Krzyś would walk to school through the boiler room. He would open the old, heavy, creaky door and then make his way through dark halls until he reached the locker room. He preferred that to walking through the schoolyard, because in colder days he wore his father's work coat which other kids made fun of.

Discovering self and oneself

Towards the end of the 60's, schools were operating within the system of eight classes. It seemed that from the 6th class and higher, kids wanted to be treated differently and to be called teenagers. It was the age of puberty, at different stages. Some boys were developing facial hair, some girls were getting curvy in an obvious way. It was the time of one boy having a little mustache and growling voice and another one is short and sounds like a girl. Younger kids' baby teeth were falling out and the sight of the gap-toothed was pretty common at school. Girls were becoming meaner and boys didn't understand why, so they would react aggressively, because they didn't know what else to do. Boys provoked by girls, often ended up having big trouble and they still didn't understand why.

It was the time of first self-definition and getting to know the environment. At parent-teacher meetings, teachers would let the parents know about the children's talents and strong suits. Worst-case scenario, if a child was considered an anti-talent. Some children believed in such labels so much, they would completely give up on something they were only seemingly bad at. Back in the days, teachers were seen as oracles and parents were rarely skeptical about their opinions. If a teacher criticized child's behavior at a parent-teacher meeting, that child would later receive proper butt-slapping from the parent. Those over-worked and under-educated parents automatically believed every word that came out of the teacher's mouth. No one would believe the child's version of the story. Teachers were greatly respected and if they had bad opinions about children, it would bring shame to the parents. Therefore, the teacher was always right and the child was always the bad and lazy liars and need to be punished. Teachers knew well that their words produce such reactions in parents and the next day after a parent-teacher meeting, they would ask the children if their butts hurt bad enough.

Those rules were obeyed also in Krzysztof's household. He was punished for bad grades, bad words and for occasional slapping someone. He would always dread facing her mother after a parent-teacher meeting. If she came home crying, he knew that soon he will cry too. But after that everything would be fine again...until another meeting.

Christmas break wouldn't bring much joy to the kids. They knew that they might face a big bad monster right afterwards. That big bad monster was the final, semester grading, which often meant additional oral tests and consequently, embarrassment in front of the entire class. It felt as bad as if they had their pants publicly taken off. In fact, Krzyś often suffered from nightmares about pants-lessly standing in front of class. Summer finals were less painful, because the teachers would always try to give better grades, for fear they would ruin their own statistics. One must have been a particularly lazy kid to fail a year. It was so much easier to get to the next grade, than it was to get to the next semester.

Schoolyard education

Another very important aspect of a young person's development back then, was a different, sadly unappreciated form of education - the so-called schoolyard education. In contrary to the traditional, official education, this type blossomed during the months of vacation. Its main concern was socialization, that is defining one's position in group, defining roles and assignments, choosing leaders...It also included gaining knowledge about the adult world, about how to cope, about sex, friends and enemies.

In his childhood and early puberty years, Krzyś belonged to the Fredek's group. It played a significant role in his social education. Thin and stammering Fredek, his brother – chubby Marek, tiny Kaziu with his tall and thin sister Malwina, Twin Bros and Krzysztof's brother Janek – all of them formed a tight group having fun and exploring the world.

The leader was the tallest, the strongest and the oldest and no one ever dared to disagree with him. Krzyś and Janek may have been smarter, but neither of them ever felt drawn to being a leader. No one questioned Fredek's power and he himself never abused it. He had a lot of interesting ideas and a little more money than other kids. Whenever he bought a new motorbike, he would gladly take others for rides. He was admired and never condescending. He was simply a happy kid who wanted to share his happiness. Later they found out that his handicapped father traded labor clothes on a market and that produced much bigger income than a full time job. That way Fredek's dad provided his children with expensive toys.

The team would play at an empty schoolyard during school holidays. There were berry bushes that bloomed in the Summertime and the kids would hide among them and eat fresh fruit. On cooler days they would just run around the playground chasing each other with different toy guns. Sadly, one day, Krzyś lost his brand new, shiny, blue, Chinese machine gun in the sandbox. Others believed that eventually it was found and sold by the tiny Kazio...

They didn't play football, because there wasn't enough of them to form teams. They rather kicked a ball or played badminton or cycled around a huge glade nearby.

It was clear that Fredek was the first to hit puberty and one day he decided to teach his group about sex. The kids were startled when he handed them seemingly regular deck of cards. They thought they would play poker again, but it turned out that the cards contained a weird pornographic story, in which two maids fooled around with some black guy, in the kitchen. The black guy had an unusually large and throbbing willy. The kids took this sexual education with silent amazement.

Surprisingly enough, Fredek did not have any conflicts with the little rascal mentioned earlier. They didn't run into each other much. It was a pity, because Fredek could show him where his place is. Till this day Krzysztof regrets not asking Fredek to talk to that little terrorist. If that were the case, maybe he wouldn't have spent his entire childhood in fear.

In the last years of primary school, their group welcomed a bunch of new members, Krzysztof's classmates. They were all bigger and more independent by now and could also hang out together during schooldays. In that time, the schoolyard education involved mostly exhausting football matches and in the winter, crazy sleigh rides down the citadel hills.

When the winter was particularly tough, local firemen would create an ice ring in the schoolyard. It was rough but free and kids could skate there even after dark. The rink was so poorly lit, that one could see only shapes of other skaters. The cold spread across, the body, skates creaked