Second Draft Chapter 5

But the very next day I got in trouble.

It was after lunch break. We were all out in the schoolyard. Icarus was climbing that damn tree again, in spite of having fallen out of it the previous day. The sun shown brightly through the leaves and seemed to blind him in his ascent.

This time I was not one of the voices urging him on. Clodius and Ares were at the foot of the tree, urging Icarus on to greater glories, but I was on the other side of the schoolyard talking to David and Simon.

I was speaking to David, but I had my back leaned against the school wall so that I could see out across the schoolyard, and I had a clear view of what everyone was doing. There was Icarus climbing the tree. There was Rosa holding court with her circle of girls. And there was Ajax, Teucer, and Hector. Ajax was surveying the schoolyard with a contented look, like a lion who was certain he was lord of all he surveyed. Hector and Teucer were pacing with more pensive looks. They were the dangerous ones. They were the ones who had something to prove.

Simple minds are always easy to read. I could usually tell what they were thinking just by looking at their faces. Right now it was clear that they were scanning the schoolyard for victims.

Suddenly Hector’s face made a sneer. It was an expression that reminded me immediately of some sort of wild dog which has picked out its prey. He elbowed Teucer in the side, and then growled something that I couldn’t hear from the far side of the end of the school year. They both set out.

I began to pay less and less attention to what David was saying to me, and watched these two more and more intently. I thought at first they were heading towards LJ. He was usually a favorite target of theirs. But instead they walked right past him and headed towards Joshua, who was talking to Leda at the time.

This didn’t surprise me either. They loved to make fun of Joshua. And he never stood up to them. Which is what you need to do to bullies. You need to stand up to them. You need to let them know that you’re willing to throw a couple punches if it comes to it. Then they’ll treat you with respect. If you’re always nice to them, then they’ll walk all over you, just like they did with Joshua.

Teucer went and stood directly in front of Joshua, and Hector stood behind. They were still too far away for me to hear what they were saying, but Teucer was asking Joshua questions with that stupid leering grin of his. Ajax was laughing at whatever Teucer said.

Leda looked upset by the situation. She was walking back and forth angrily, and, at times resorting to flank attacks on one of the two, yelling something in their ear. Again, I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but I can imagine. “Go away! Leave us alone! Stop it!”

Joshua, by contrast, was the picture of calmness as he dealt with all of Teucer’s questions. He seemed to be explaining everything in a calm manner, and not bothered at all by the fact that they were obviously making fun of him. The fact that Joshua refused to get upset had a way of ruining their jokes, and Teucer and Hector soon began to loose interest in him. Besides, Leda was much more interesting.

I had now stopped listening to David entirely, and was completely focused on this unfolding scene. David had followed my gaze. Somehow he knew what I was thinking. “Stay out if Jon,” he cautioned. “Let the teachers handle it.”

But Simon disagreed with this. “Someone’s got to do something,” he said, and for the first time I think I actually felt closer to Simon than I did to David. Of course Simon had a personal interest in all this, but I have a feeling that even if Leda hadn’t of been involved, he would still have sided with me. In some respects Simon and I were very much alike. We both had a desire for excitement and at times a bit of a rough edge on us. David, on the other hand, would do almost anything to avoid a conflict.

Hector and Teucer were now focused on Leda, asking her leering questions and laughing at her. Whatever they said her face turned bright red. And at last, through Leda, they had found their way of upsetting Joshua. He shouted something at them, and they seemed to take this as an excuse for force. Teucer turned back to face Joshua and shoved Joshua backwards.

I began walking over in their direction. My blood was hot, but I was very careful to keep my pace at a steady walk. I didn’t want Hector or Teucer to think they had upset me. That would have meant I considered their actions to have some sort of importance. It was very important that I acted like I didn’t care about them.

I could hear Simon’s footsteps following behind me. He wasn’t rushing either. Once again I felt a sudden, unusual feeling of closeness to him. Without me saying a word, Simon understood inherently the importance of a calm approach.

More and more people were beginning to take notice of what was going on. Rosa was watching everything silently with a kind of detached interest. The other girls around Rosa followed her example and looked silently in the same way. Christopher and Varro and Clodius and Ares and LJ were all looking over as well. Icarus continued to climb the tree, oblivious to everything else.

Teucer pushed Joshua again, this time with enough force to knock him to the ground. Hector was laughing his usual jackal laugh, as if this were the funniest thing he had ever seen. Both of them had such leering jackal faces that I think I would have wanted to hit them even if they weren’t doing anything. I was close enough to hear most of what they were saying now. “…yeah? Well what are you going to do about it Joshua? If you think so, why don’t you fight us? Just hit me one time. Or are you going to run away like your father?”

I suddenly had the thought that at my present pace I might not get there in time. Things might either reach a climax, or, perhaps more likely, blow over before I even got there. If Joshua didn’t fight back, they would probably just get bored and leave. There wasn’t much more they could do to him. He was already on the ground.

In spite of this, I kept my discipline. Image was important in these situations. It would never have done to run up all flustered and out of breath.

Would it be okay to hit Teucer if they had stopped picking on Joshua by the time I arrived? Probably. He had something coming to him anyway. Or maybe I’d hit Hector instead. I couldn’t stand that laugh of his. It was the most annoying sound imaginable. I would love to stop his mouth with my fist.

And then, unexpectedly, another factor entered the equation.

“Leave him alone!” It was Emma, walking right up to Teucer and Hector. “You sons of bitches! You leave him alone.”

Teucer looked uncomfortable, as if it was beneath his dignity to argue with a girl. Torment, yes, but argue with, no. He searched for a single dismissive put down toput her in her place. Again, his simple mind was easily revealed on his face. I could almost see the gears turning. “Go play with the rest of the girls,” he said at last. He must have thought that was pretty clever.

Emma, without even pausing to think, immediately shot back one better. “You’re pretty far away from daddy today,” she said, indicating Ajax with a jerk of her thumb.

Nothing cuts like the truth. This reference to Teucer’s dependence on Ajax was more than he could handle. His eyes narrowed. He looked like he wanted to hit her. If she wasn’t a girl, I’m sure he would have. Come to think of it, maybe Teucer would hit a girl. I wouldn’t put it past him.

But instead Teucer bent down, picked up a big handful of mud, and hurled it at Emma. It was a compromise with himself that allowed him to avoid hitting her, and still put her in her place. And yet his eyes were so sullen and hate-filled that he had the appearance of a child throwing a temper tantrum. In terms of dignity, Emma won that encounter even as the mud splattered all over her.

This was not, I should add, just a clump of dirt. Teucer had thrown as much mud as he could pick up. Because he was right handed, Emma’s whole left side was covered. Mud hit her square in the face, got in her hair, covered her left eye, and even entered her mouth. Her white shirt was also ruined. She immediately spat the mud out from her mouth, looking both miserable and surprised. I don’t think she expected Teucer to react as strongly as he did. She obviously didn’t know him well.

Hector was doubled over in laughter now. He was laughing so hard he could barely breath. All I could hear was his annoying jackal laugh mixed with an occasional wheezing intake of breath. I decided to hit him first. I sank my fist into his wide-open mouth. I cut my knuckles on his teeth, but it was still one of the most satisfying things I ever did.

Simon hit Teucer. Ajax came running (and I’m pleased to say he came at a full, undignified run) over to help his friends. Clodius and Ares joined in our side. And then there was the blowing of whistles, and the teachers came into the schoolyard to break up the fight. They had a way of always showing up a few minutes too late.


The rest of the afternoon was absolutely miserable. Nobody cared why we had been fighting. Nobody cared who had started the fight. All the combatants were to be punished equally.

The exact form of our punishment was a subject of some debate by the teachers. While further measures were being decided upon, we were split up into different groups to work for the rest of the afternoon. Ajax, Hector, and Teucer were sent outside to the school gardens to work with the groundskeeper. Simon, Clodius, and Ares were sent to clean the streets outside of the school. Emma and I were ordered to help the school cleaning lady as she scrubbed the floors.

The cleaning lady was someone we saw everyday as we passed her in the hallways. But we never bothered to talk to her. We just walked past her as she was busy scrubbing the floor. I always thought she reminded me of David’s mother. She always had a very tired look to her. There were lines all around her face and especially around her eyes. Her hair was frail and thin, and tied up behind her head. And she never seemed to smile. In fact she was always sighing with frustration. Whenever I walked passed her in the school hallways, she seemed to be in a perpetual state of shaking her head and sighing at the dirty floors.

But she was not unkind to us. When the headmaster turned us over to her, she received us with a friendly smile, but tired smile. The lips of her mouth only rose halfway as if she didn’t have the energy to make a full smile, but she gave us a sympathetic look with her eyes.

She didn’t seem to care what our offence had been, or look down on us because we were being punished. She simply welcomed the help, and set us to work at once scrubbing the floor.

The work was hard. A lot harder than I imagined. All three of us were on our hands and knees scrubbing the floor. We had to scrub hard to remove some of the dirt and stains.

I had never done anything like this before. My soft hands chafed against the wooden handle of the brush. After a couple of hours, my skin began to crack. The harsh soapy water that we used only further aggravated my skin.

But even worse was the mind numbing boredom. After school finished the hallways were completely deserted except for the three of us. We talked a little to pass the time, but in between conversation there was a depressing silence filled only by the rhythmic sound of the brushes going back and forth. The school hallways were dimly lit, and this added to the drab atmosphere. I thought about Ajax, Teucer, and Hector who were out in the sunshine enjoying the fresh air. They were probably joking and laughing with each other right now. Ajax was probably weeding the garden while laughing at something Teucer had said. Their hands were full with the dirt and vitality of the garden. The sunlight was falling softly all around them. And here I was.

It occurred to me suddenly that the cleaning lady, whatever her name was, did this job everyday. Except for when students were being punished, she didn’t even the company. Usually she labored for hours by herself in silence.

I was depressing myself just thinking about it. I noticed that we had been scrubbing in silence for a while, so I decided to restart the conversation just to break the monotony. “How long have you been doing this?” I asked.

Emma stopped scrubbing and leaned back on her heels as if she too was curious about the answer.

“14 years,” answered the cleaning lady without hesitation.

I felt like I had to ask the next question. “How can you stand it?”

She smiled with usual tired half smile. “You’re young. You don’t understand yet. I’m just happy to have work. There are times when there’s no work to be found. And, during a bad year the farm can’t support us. Especially with all the grain we owe to the landowner.”

“The landowner?” I asked, sounding out this new word.

“Yes. The land we farm isn’t ours. Every year the landowner takes most of the grain. During a good year there’s enough for everyone, but during a bad year we can’t feed our family after all the grain we have to give. We had to move into the town, but there was hardly any work to be found. My husband got a job in the factory, but the pay was so little that we still couldn’t feed all of our children. He asked the old landowner for a little grain at 100% credit so that we could make bread to feed our children, but the landowner refused. And so two of our children died that winter. My husband was furious. He was going to kill the landlord, but I stopped him. Even though he was red with rage, I talked him out of it.”

Despite her sad tale, the woman spoke with a very calm and emotionless voice. Instead it was Emma who, I noticed, was very upset. Emma’s hands were shaking uncontrollably, and she was fighting back tears. “Why did you stop your husband?” she asked. “He was right to want to kill the landowner.”

“Oh no, no he wasn’t” the cleaning lady said in a soft tone meant to calm Emma. “The land owner was within his rights. He was a good man. My two sons who survived now work for him. Not everyone can eat bread all the time. That’s just the way the world is. Sometimes we have to go without.”

“If the landowner was to walk into this room right now, I would kill him myself,” Emma blurted out. There was a bitterness to Emma’s voice that I had never heard before.

“Oh now. Oh no my child you mustn’t talk that way.” She reached out a hand to comfort Emma, but Emma jerked sharply away from it. “When you talk like that, it makes God cry.” Emma just glared back at her with contempt.

The cleaning lady stood up, slowly and with some obvious discomfort in her knees, which had been bent scrubbing for so long. “We’ve been working hard for a long time. Perhaps we need a break. I should probably get some fresh water anyway.” She picked up the bucket of water and walked down the hallway.

Emma remained silent until the cleaning lady had disappeared from sight, and then she spat out, “That cow! That stupid, stupid cow.” I realized that Emma was now angrier at the cleaning lady than she was at the landowner. “Imagine thinking that everyone can’t have bread all the time. Does the landowner and his family ever go without bread?”


At around 8 o’clock I sat in the headmaster’s office, waiting for my father to arrive. And suddenly the scrubbing that I had been doing all afternoon didn’t seem so bad. I wished I was still scrubbing right now. I’d gladly scrub for another two days to put off this encounter.

There was no doubt my father would be furious. That went without saying. He was always furious when I got into trouble at school. But especially after the speech he had given me last night, I couldn’t even imagine what he would do.

The headmaster sat quietly at his desk, scribbling on some papers. I sat in the corner of his office. He completely ignored me, which was just fine as far as I was concerned. I wasn’t in the mood to make conversation anyway.

I glanced at the clock. It was two after eight now. The headmaster had told me my father would be here at eight. Already I had been given a two-minute reprieve.

The headmaster continued calmly working away at his desk. I looked down at my chafed and cracked hands. I examined the blisters on the tips of my fingers. I noticed that my foot was nervously tapping on the ground, and with an effort I stilled it.

I glanced up at the clock again. It was now five past eight. It was unlike my father to be late. Maybe he wasn’t coming. Maybe the message had never gotten through to him, or maybe he was working really late, or maybe he was just too tired to deal with it.

It was deathly silent in the room. All I could hear was the scribbling of the headmaster’s pen, and, if I listened closely, I could hear the sound of the second hand on the clock ticking away. Tick. Tick. Tick.

I squirmed slightly in my seat, and the seat made a squeaking sound that momentarily covered the other noises. Then it was silent again, and the scribbling and the ticking remained. Tick. Tick. Tick. It was ten after eight now. It was very unlike my father to be this late. I now began seriously to entertain thoughts that he wasn’t coming, although the headmaster still seemed as unconcerned as ever, silently scribbling away on his paper.

I was the last student remaining. Simon, Emma, Ares, Ajax, and the others had already been picked up by their mothers. My father alone worked later than everyone else.

I looked at the clock again. Tick. Tick. Tick. Thud Thud Thud Thud Thud Thud.

The sound of the ticking clock was replaced by thudding footsteps coming from the outside hallway. They were heavy footsteps which came down on the floor with a smack, and yet moved with a quick step. My heart sank. There was no mistaking them. They were my father’s. All hope of a lost message, or any other reason for a reprieve, immediately vanished.

The headmaster perked up from his scribbling and cocked his head to one side to listen to the sound. And then he looked over and smiled at me. It was the first acknowledgement he had given of my presence since he told me to sit down. But it was not a friendly smile. “Well, you’re in trouble now,” his smile seemed to be saying.

The door flung open. My father walked in. I looked at him to try and gauge his face. He stared me down with furious eyes. I looked at the ground and did not look up again until he had walked up to the headmaster’s desk and his back was to me.

“I’m terribly sorry I couldn’t get here earlier,” he apologized. “It was an unusually busy day for me.”

“Yes, yes,” the headmaster replied. “I understand this time of year is always hectic for you. It’s quite all right. I was able to keep busy marking papers while we waited for you. You understand the situation?”

“Yes, I’ve been informed of what happened already.”

“Well, then I don’t have to tell you how serious this is. Not only is this just the second day of school, not only did your son start a fight that quickly escalated into 7 people, but, this is a continuation of his problem of aggressiveness and disrespect for authority.　　At this point we are moving beyond the usual punishments. Under normal circumstances I might recommend that he be expelled. Because of the special consideration we give to your family, I think he should be suspended for several days.”

“I don’t think my son’s the problem here.”

This caught the headmaster off guard. “What? Perhaps you don’t fully understand the situation.”

“No, I’ve been told all about it. I’ve also talked to the other parents of the children involved. Now if you can’t control Ajax and the rest of that gang, I don’t see why my son should be disciplined for standing up to them.”

The headmaster’s eyes seemed to be bulging out. I could hardly believe what I was hearing either. My father had never stood up for me before.

The headmaster tried to make a polite smile and spoke in a diplomatic tone. “I understand that it must be hard for you to raise your two sons on your own-”

That has nothing to do with it. I hire help at home.”

“Yes I know, but your boys don’t learn their morals from the servants. They need strong parental guidance. I’m concerned that if it is not clearly impressed on Jonathon that this kind of behavior is unacceptable, we’re going to have another repeat occurrence.”

“I taught Jonathon to stand up for what’s right. That’s what we fought for during the Restoration. Now you know as well as I do why those boys were picking on Joshua.”

The headmaster straightened up, indignant. “I hardly think the Gibbeon issue has anything to do with this.”

“I think it does. And we worked hard to stop that kind of thing during the Restoration. So don’t ask me to punish my son for standing up against it. It’s those other boys you should be dealing with.”

“The other students have been dealt with,” the headmaster answered defensively.

“Yes, that reminds me, I talked to Emma’s mother as well. After all that family has been through, do you really think it’s appropriate to threaten her with expulsion? All she did was tell them to leave Joshua alone?”

“I don’t make special exceptions,” the headmaster said in a flat emotionless voice. If he realized the contradiction between this statement and what he had said earlier about the special consideration for our family, he didn’t seem to care. He had moved from indignation, to defensiveness and now his voice simply seemed resigned to the fact that he had lost this argument.

My father dismissed this with a wave of his hand. He was used to people just obeying him. He didn’t like to negotiate things. “I understand you had my son clean the hallway. That’s good for him. He doesn’t usually do hard work like that. He can do the same thing for the rest of the week, not as punishment, but for the experience. But I don’t want Emma’s family bothered any more about this.”

The headmaster understood that it was not an offer, but a command. He nodded, and to save face added, “yes, I think that will be acceptable.”

They exchanged a few more pleasantries, and then my father left, pulling me out after him. Before we got in the carriage, my father said to me in a stern voice, “the next time Jonathon, you call a teacher to deal with the situation. I don’t ever want to hear about you starting fights at school again.” He started to get into the carriage, and then struck by a second thought turned around and added, “or anywhere else for that matter.”

The entire carriage ride home, he didn’t say a word to me, but simply looked angrily out the window. He seemed to be very angry with me. If I hadn’t have been in the headmaster’s office to hear him myself, I would never have known that he was on my side. In fact, the way he was acting, I was already starting to rapidly doubt that it had happened at all. Did I just imagine that whole scene? Was I so nervous that my mind had been playing tricks on me? I tried to replay it over and over again in my memory to convince myself that it had really happened, but each time it just seemed more and more unreal. By the time we arrived back at the house, I was almost convinced that it hadn’t happened. My father would never have stuck up for me like that. I must have imagined the whole thing.