All The Good Children

I couldn’t understand it. “Why?” I called out to him as he turned back towards the school and that “I was nearly home”. “She said you better come back.” He took off down the short hill, and out of my line of sight and further vocals (my voice not yet as good at a theatrical bellow as it is today). I stood there confused. Should I ignore him? Would it matter if I ignored the ‘sister’s’ command and continued home? Of course it would. I wouldn’t put it past her to come flying straight to our house (on a broomstick, probably), brushing my parents aside with a swish of her cowl (habit) and grab me by the ear (The nuns always seemed to grab the children by the ear which resulted in many medical conditions) and take me, kicking and screaming back to the school (I knew I would only go kicking and screaming, I would of course, come back screaming, if I was taken). There was something going on back at the school. I realised that at least, as I turned and reluctantly trudged back the way I had come. Glancing back towards the wharf and watching the top storey of our stone domicile disappear from view.

I arrived back at the school a short time later. Well, I had thought it a short time, my legs not exactly being the longest devices to cover distances with. The sister was there, as were strangely, all the other children. The sister watched my arrival and hit me, with all the force of a 100 yards glare (twice as harsh as the fifty). “You children may go,” She said. “And thank you for your efforts”. Now I was confused. They hadn’t finished their tasks, but were being praised? I should have realised. As they departed, the bullies leaving last, sending an awful grin of triumph in my direction, unseen by the glaring nun.

They left, and in an instant, the nun was before me. It was a bit like those horror movies of old. One second she appeared to be glaring at me from the desk, then she was practically on my toes. Unfortunately I cringed, and that was all she wanted. ‘Muddy Doo’ (see blog 21st February 2013) slammed against the desk next to me. “How dare you walk out when I have told you to do something”, The nun breathed down on me, her voice angry, her breath, bad. Actually, imagine for a moment, a poor squire standing, dressed only in a rough sacking shift, before a massive fire-breathing dragon that had just destroyed his fully armoured master, I felt a bit like that in my mind. The sister was furious and the sound of ‘Muddy Doo’ hitting the desk suggested I was in very, very serious trouble… or potentially facing an unexpected death. But why? Hang on? Walk out? I opened my mouth to speak. “I didn’t walk out. I…” ‘Muddy Doo’ smashed down into the desk again. ‘Don’t add lying to your belligerent behaviour.” The sister was practically screaming at me. ‘Leaving the other children to do your tasks.” The Sister continued. “When I tell someone to do something, then, THEY WILL DO IT!” (With each word slammed out with rhythm by ‘Muddy Doo’ upon the desktop).

(Continued tomorrow)