Benworden Read Online Free PDF Page A

entry to the shaft was excavated and concealed by an imitation rock doorway made of concrete which was built on rollers, and slid open quite easily once its locking mechanism was released. The entrance to the shaft was situated in parkland that could be accessed from the main highway and there was a small track that veered to the right and entered a picnic area and reserve. Further up the highway was a larger track that also went into the reserve but it veered to the left and was concealed from the highway by artificial conifers that opened and shut by remote. The picnic area was rarely used and when it was, it was mainly by travellers.
    The side wall in the room with the fruit box bookcase was an imitation as well and divided the club rooms from the original mineshaft. This door could be opened from inside or out and it worked on a system of counterweights. Once a certain rock was pushed on either side of the wall the whole thing would elevate upwards, creating enough room to drive a large truck through. There was another one of these doors, only much smaller, which was located further up the shaft towards theschool. We used that when any of the members needed to access the headmaster’s office.
    Becoming a Bull Ant member had given my life new meaning, and I’m not ashamed to admit that I cried at the end of the year when Josh and Rebecca, our two year 12s, left us for university. I will be forever grateful to them for selecting me to become part of a club that helped shape who I am today.

4
    M Y L AST Y EAR

    I have watched students and teachers come and go and seen lots of new technology implemented in the club rooms over the past six years, but my last year at Benworden held more in store for me than I could ever imagine. It was more than just the club that made Benworden different – it was a combination of the teachers and students and as I think about this group of misfits a whole new wave of emotions flows over me.
    Henry Gowdy was the headmaster of the Benworden School and he was a lean, small, balding man. I think he must only have had a couple of suits to his name as he rotated his navy blue pin-striped one with his plain brown one, but he compensated with a constant array of different bow ties. His shoes were always immaculately clean and if any of us were to accidently scuff them in any way there would be hell to pay.
    I remember Tod Nichols running past him on a wet winter’s day and splashing spots all over Mr Gowdy’s shoes. Poor old Tod spent the week on yard duty, while old Gowdy glared at him from his window.
    Mr Gowdy was old-fashioned and carried a fob watch with a gold chain attached which he tucked away in his vest pocket. He often pulled it out whenever we were late and then peered over the top of his glasses in the most chilling manner. Time had stood still for him when it came to keeping up with fashion, yet he had an amazing aura – although he wasn’t a tallman he could make you feel like he could hold you in the palm of his hand and crush you anytime he wanted to.
    His office was like an extension of himself; no one wanted to go near it as students only went there when summoned for a misdemeanour. It was as antiquated as he was, and carried that same fearful aura. As you entered, a chill ran down your spine and you felt like you were in a room out of a Charles Dickens novel.
    The first thing that caught the eye was a huge mahogany desk at the rear of the room. It sat in front of an enormous arched window where we would often see Mr Gowdy standing erect with his hands behind his back, peering out like a hawk poised to attack and snatch up an unsuspecting field mouse.
    On his desk sat a small silver tray and on the tray was a pen and pencil set that stood upright beside a square silver calendar with black and white numbers that could be changed by little winders. Next to the tray was a small jar filled with rubber bands and paper clips and it sat beneath a brass lamp