《Comprehensive Manifesto of Your Dream School!》

“Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?” 

“That depends a good deal on where you want to get to.” 

– Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (1865), Chapter VI 

《Comprehensive Manifesto of Your Dream School!》 

“Hoy! Hooooy! Are you packing up and going with us to the asphalt ballgame or not?”

“Uh. Mmf. Huh…?” 

He looked around, not unsurprised by this sudden shift of scenery, but it was no matter — back into the familiar, back into the ever-familiar. 

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” 

[…] 

It has come to my attention that certain persons of the incoming class have expressed substantial difficulty in navigating our scholarly institution. Indeed, one cannot reasonably expect a newcomer to discern the Badminton Gym from the theatre, especially considering that the two are oftentimes adjacent. And it is therefore my most excellent honour to take on the burden of producing this guide, which I trust shall no doubt spare you many unnecessary setbacks. 

For the purposes of this here manual, we shall commence at the Tree of Life, located in the clearing beside our Badminton Gym. I trust that even the least observant of the fellows among you will experience little difficulty in locating it, although experience has taught me not to harbour an excessive faith in the observational faculties of the newly-initiated. 

The clearing itself is paved in rough cobblestone, with a square enclosure slightly elevated in its centre wherein stands the tree. The enclosure’s broad edge makes for an agreeable seat, especially during the warmer periods, as the foliage provides imperfect but considerable interference with the sunlight. On either side, slightly elevated stone borders embrace the clearing in a manner reminiscent of square brackets, containing a moderate amount of shrubbery and crimson bottlebrush trees. Together, the plantings offer a pleasant seclusion from the surrounding campus ebb.

The Tree of Life is, at present, a crape myrtle, whose blossoms lend vibrant colour to the stones. You may observe, upon closer inspection, that the commemorative plaque identifies it as an evergreen. This is a historical description, not a botanical one, and I see little more than folly in any attempt to trouble ourselves over such a distinction. 

I would strongly advise committing the clearing to memory. It is a convenient place to meet with the occasional acquaintance, pass an idle afternoon, or recover one’s bearings should the surrounding paths prove less directionally accommodating than anticipated. 

Having acquainted ourselves with this iconic tree, we may now turn our attention eastward to the Badminton Gym. 

Our gymnasium itself is nothing to spill awe over — conventional early twenty-first century utilitarian architecture, about two thousand square metres in interior space, walls brushed a deep, reserved tan. It is frequented by academics of varying athletic competence. A personal advisory here against taking enthusiasm as an indicator of skill: the distinction is often made painstakingly clear during Saturday Badminton Doubles. 

Further westward past the gymnasium and the Tree lie the principal academic complexes, whose many classrooms and corridors I shall neither waste my effort nor trouble your time by endeavouring to catalogue. The arrangement is sufficiently elementary; all but the most directionally challenged manage to locate their classes without fail. 

[…] 

The English wing and the Sciences wing always stood too close to one another. On some days it was no matter, but on others, when any relevant person actually needed to pass, they seemed almost to wedge against one another. This, he reasoned, could most definitely be attributed to the sun, whose heat could cause a great many things to swell and whose rays were gradually baking away at his back as he waded his way between the walls, thoroughly bored. 

Voices reached him through the far side slit. He emerged from the narrow passage, where a few stray shrubs had begun to encroach upon the grey pavement. Further ahead, that grey gave way to a rich, oily black: beyond stretched the asphalt playground, broad and sunlit, its painted lines interrupted by old fissures and the occasional gum. 

To his far right a sharp metallic crack rang out. He turned towards the sound. Ah, a short game of Base-Ball, as promised! Beside the far fence, one of the familiar students warming up with a game of catch raised a hand in greeting — one he returned with his slight, upward nod.

He didn’t even need to look at that face. He knew this place. He’d been here before! He tried to remember the exact classrooms he passed along the way… 

[…] 

The asphalt playground, situated immediately west of the academic complex, serves as the principal recreational grounds for the majority of the student body and an agreeable gathering place for those inclined towards games of many sorts. It is not uncommon to find several parties conducting entirely distinct activities upon its surface, with surprisingly little regard for one another’s territorial claims. Most commonly congregated, on most days, are the younger students who may be spotted scurrying their way across while working on their skipping-ropes; the vertically gifted, challenging one another to showdowns of basketball, marking two circles on the ground to use as hoops; from time to time, the bullies harassing some unfortunate chosen student; and across the low metal fence running through the middle of the area, perhaps the largest party consistently, a constant cohort of students who, despite the asphalt’s regrettable deficiency in grass, still hold it as the preferred venue for nearly all ballgames conducted within our grounds. I confess that its appeal is not completely obvious to the uninitiated, though the enthusiasm of its patrons speaks for itself. 

We now proceed to the asphalt’s lower extremity, where a short flight of stairs descends towards a field. 

This multipurpose field — or Graduation Green, as it is called — is a spacious, well-kept expanse of grass employed for a variety of athletic and ceremonial purposes. It is often here that we host European Football, and once a year, it is also here that our graduating classes convene for the annual commencement exercises, including the great final spectacle where participants clasp one another’s hands, assemble in a circle, and proceed through a series of coördinated movements whose precise purpose I have yet to ascertain. I am sure that this constitutes a cherished institutional custom, and shall therefore refrain from expressing my reservations at a greater length. 

Beyond the green, another short flight of stairs accompanied by a rather irrelevant iron cage shall bring us to the baseball diamond. It is a most agreeable establishment, furnished with all the customary necessities of the sport, including a state-of-the-art scoring board, and is beyond any doubt the finest ground on which one might hope to conduct a proper game. This single field can be thought of as one of the culminating athletic facility masterpieces of our school, and at any time, when activity does take place there, one will seldom locate more than four players on it, though this should by no means discourage any from making use of it. Surely

it is the case that the asphalt offers certain conveniences too complicated to elaborate upon at present. 

A final flight of stone steps westward brings us to the Football Field, though many students prefer the fence. Its twenty acres of turf are duly maintained, and our administrator the White-Haired Lady occasionally assists in retrieving displaced equipment. We shall not linger here. 

We make our way back to the Tree of Life, and take the narrow path extending northward between the clearing and the Badminton Gym. There may be some of the more carefree students playing children’s games along the way; pay them no heed, as they are rather densely concentrated around the Gym only, and will become sparse and trickle away as we continue further beyond. To your right there should stand a modest shack, though we shall consider its properties in detail soon enough. For now, I would like to draw your attention to a more distinguished and personally commended inhabitant of this place. 

At the northernmost end, foliage and roots slowly overtake the path. Further ahead, a vast shadow plays across the earth, cast by an ancient tree of remarkable proportions whose golden canopy stretches and rises over the surrounding earth. The precise species is not known by any student or faculty to my knowledge, though I have never considered its botanical classification of utmost significance. Its lower boughs offer a pleasant resting place, while the higher branches, which may be reached with only minimal education in qigong, offer a completely different pleasure. There, the year-round golden leaves stack across one another, and when a fitful gale happens across, sunlight twinkles through the rolling canary-yellow. Indeed, sitting on a higher ledge, surrounded by such a spectacle, one may find short refuge. At portions where leaves grow less densely, one can also settle and observe the world below — their friends sitting at the Tree of Life, wondering where they went; the incidental peer trotting unsuspectingly to the base, discovering it for themselves for the first time. Or one might simply sit and absentmindedly watch the frequent afternoon showers gathering beyond the distant treetops and folkhouses. 

A rope swing, fashioned from a hardy log and two great lengths of cord, hangs from one such thick, high limb. It has endured for as long as I can recall, and to discover it removed would cause me great displeasure. 

[…] 

He approached the little ironskin shack from the path, finding its door much as he remembered it. Around the shack, the students playing hopscotch seemed to have long since diffused elsewhere into the campus. It was all right — conveniently enough, he had little interest in them at the moment, anyway. Peace was of the essence.

A dull pain bloomed in his knees. He had twisted one during the final inning a few weeks ago. It had mostly healed, but the lingering ache told him that the pressure was dropping rapidly enough to herald an approaching storm. Hand on the latch — he stepped in. The air was cool and faintly musty. An assortment of pitchforks, shears, footballs, and inflators greeted him, but his sights were set on a narrow wooden stairwell descending along the far wall. 

He took the steps without hesitation. 

The room below was scarcely larger than the shack above. Its walls, planked with cedar like the floorboards, enclosed two bunks haphazardly modified into loft beds, a little table in between, and an assortment of belongings, most notably obscure figurines, that appeared to have accumulated over several years. Next to the base of the stairwell, a bookshelf was installed against the wall. He had seldom stopped to investigate further, but judging from the density and thickness of the volumes, he could confidently assume that the owner possessed a voracious reading appetite. The shelter supported this wholeheartedly, of course, with its cosiness; there would not be a single stronger sense of chrysalism available to be experienced by man than sitting before the desk on a January night, flipping through pages as a roommate snored lightly on and snowstorms made their annual return to pelt outside the window. One of the occupants of this dormitory, a boy, sat cross-legged on the nearer bed’s chair, occupied with something in his lap. Across the room, another student, whose long hair fell past their shoulders, was not yet present. From the higher stairs he could see their bed. It was quite lived in — which is to say, quite unkempt. 

“You’re back again,” the boy remarked. 

“Only for a moment; just to wait the rain out. You wouldn’t want any others to find this storm shelter, and I’m sure I’ve proven after all this time that neither would I, so don’t worry.” 

“Right.” The resident tore out a page unhurriedly and started folding it. “Thought you were going to that Tree of Life clearing, though. You’re always hanging around that ginkgo; you’ve proven yourself to be quite fond of it.” 

“I was.” 

The boy returned to folding. 

He turned to the small window at his right. Along its frame hung an assortment of folded cranes, cheap charms, dreamcatchers, and little glass ornaments. Some crept slightly into the view; others tugged stilly at the undrawn curtains. Had the window been opened, they would surely have tinkled like crystal chimes. A warm light was pressing in. Be it from annoyance at the boy’s comments or out of a wish for rest, he found himself stepping in front of the panes like a moth, and, arms resting against the windowsill, staring vacantly over the L. A. skyline.

“…” 

He turned back to the boy folding the paper craft. 

“Say, say, what would you think to be the weirdest dream you ever had? I mean, I myself have a few, and I’m quite indecisive, so to speak, and I would really love to hear how you decide —” 

“I beg your pardon?” 

He paused, mouth still open. 

“I’m sorry?” 

The boy’s head cocked. 

“You. Me. Your pardon. Begged.” The boy stared, quite confused that this frequent guest could possibly not comprehend something as simple as being asked for pardon after using some technical jargon that they must have picked up from English class. Dre- whatever. 

The boy returned to folding; this friend’s abrupt inquiry had cost him a very crisp crease.

[…] 

If one is to continue eastward behind the shack, they will find, to their delight, a number of features which, I trust, will require little introduction. 

[…] 

If one is to continue eastward behind the shack, they will find, to their delight, a number of features which, he trusts, will require little introduction. 

[…]

Of the athletic establishments, one further installation warrants our attention. If we are to bring ourselves to the baseball diamond again, we shall see our Hammer-Throw cage. The surrounding metal stakes, curved like claws, are draped with adequate webbing. The cage is frequented by pupils of remarkable physical stature, whose enthusiasm for the sport is made evident by the tremendous, gut-tearing roars accompanying every heave. During particularly vigorous sessions, small thunderclouds may gather above the enclosure, discharging bolts of lightning upon the cage’s curved poles and its occupants with each throw before dissipating as another cloud recondenses. This process, I am assured, greatly assists in purifying the bodies of our athletes. 

We return once more to the Tree of Life and its quiet clearing, from whence the Grand Entrance Lobby may be found directly southward of the Badminton Gym. It is, by all reasonable measures, the principal gateway of our institution, though I should consider most students sufficiently acquainted with the grounds to have little occasion to make use of its exterior doors. Approaching from the southernmost end of the Academic Complex from our Graduation Green may grant us a much more convenient journey. Proceed down the path through the classrooms, and one shall presently arrive upon the upper gallery of the Lobby. This broad, open mezzanine overlooks the ground floor below, separated from it by a series of modest tin railings whose height I would advise against putting to the test. 

Before you, you shall perceive a magnificent wall of glass rising from the ground to meet the ceiling, admitting generous daylight into the hall. To your left, a grand staircase of polished, seasoned wood descends towards the ground floor. Here, clusters of sofas and suede stools populate the scene. Very often, students may be found conversing upon the sofas, working away at group deliverables with their laptops propped on a transportable coffee table, or otherwise conducting those important proceedings of student life which seem to demand sizable quantities of leisure. 

Beneath the staircase, in a modest recess against the wall, operates a small refreshment establishment staffed by student and administrator alike, decked out with coffee machines, a bakery display and a wide collection of confectioneries. I do see fit to caution that the chocolate bars, though agreeable enough, are seldom offered for any less than fifty dollars apiece. Such is the unfortunate price of convenience. Similarly, it would do one good not to take offered chocolate fragments from the farthest-out sofa dwellers, as those pieces have often been subject to a thorough licking beforehand. 

At the foot of the staircase, though, one shall find to the left, upon the bland wall, a set of tall doors leading directly northward into our Grand Theatre.

Having thus recorded so meticulously the principal structures of this institution, I trust that even the most spatially unfortunate of you shall now find little difficulty in conducting yourselves appropriately about the grounds. From the magnificent Baseball Diamond, the ever-favoured gathering place of our sporting enthusiasts, to the Grand Theatre, whose convenient position directly north of the Entrance Lobby and south of the Badminton Gym that is immediately north of that lobby should be evident to any observant fellow, the arrangement of our campus is, I believe, indeed quite elementary. 

I will refrain from dwelling upon the aw-ful labour required to procure this work, for it would be unbecoming and basely immodest of a gentleman to parade and indulge in his accomplishments. Nevertheless, I should think it a grave disservice to the school were I to neglect conceding the extraordinary utility of the documentation before you. I implore you, then, when your successors come, not to falter in delivering this on to them, and should future generations of scholars find themselves navigating these grounds with an unprecedented confidence, I shall surely not decline a modest and well-deserved recognition of the sole individual responsible. 

It is therefore with Great Happiness, Satisfaction, and a minute measure of Justified Pride that I declare my work complete and commend this manifesto to the incoming classes, trusting that its contents will serve as a permanent testament to the intellectual generosity of its author and the culminating crystallisation of His blood and sweat. 

And remember, my newly initiate — if you do not know where you are, please, I beg you, do not follow my directions.