Date: Fri, 11 Jan 2019 08:50:53 +0000 From: Jonah Subject: Stranger on a Train chapter six This story is a work of fiction and no character in it is based on any real person living or dead. Where officials are described they are in no way intended to represent any real person who holds those offices, although I recognise that the Metropolitan Police does have some brave officers and that the "system", however desensitised nowadays, does have some caring people within it. This story may include some sexual activity , though only of a gentle and loving nature, but there will be no graphic descriptions and those looking for pornography are advised to look elsewhere.There are pictures of some of the characters in this story on Jacob Lion's website along with his story, "A Neglected Boy" also serialized on Nifty. If you like this story, you'll certainly like his. You can find his website at: https://jacoblion.weebly.com/ If you wish to contact me for feedback, I can be reached at lfa4321jonah@outlook.com. Nifty is kind enough to enable us to write and to read these stories so please consider making a donation. It costs money to run a site like this. http.//donate.nifty.org/donate.html Stranger on a train Chapter six by Jonah Out of the corner of my eye I saw Luke duck down behind the settee. Every parent's nightmare is that something would happen to his child at school where he can't be there to help, but I remembered that things can never be so bad that you can't, with a little bit of effort, make them worse. I sat back down on the settee and made my face as impassive as possible. "Come here!" I said quietly to Peter. Tears welled in his eyes suddenly but after a second or two he came forward. I pulled him into the seat beside me and put my arm around his shoulder. The waterworks got worse. "Jonah, plase don't love me, I can't stand it", he sobbed. "You're on a loser there Sport", I told him, "I'm not ever going to stop loving you. Now what's all this about?" He handed me the letter. "That's a letter Peter, ", I told him. "It isn't an answer to my question. Now you may have done something bad, but whatever it is, it isn't as bad as not having the courage to tell me about it". "Sammy Porter tried......". "Simon, " I cut him off, "please......". Peter moved my arm from around his shoulder. "This fourth year was picking on Dani. " he said. "Dani's only a first year and he couldn't stand up to him. He said some horrible things then he tried to empty Dani's books out of his bag. I told him to leave him alone, then he said...." He hesitated. "Did he use bad language?" I asked. "Yes". "Never mind, go on" " He said ' you something Pakis all stick together' then he punched me in the face. I put him down with a shoulder throw, and then he just lay on his back and Mrs Tebbit said I had to go to the office." "I'm not surprised", I said opening the letter. Longfield Primary School Dukes Avenue Harrow Dear Mr Cummings 23 January 2018 I have to take the unusual step of asking you to visit the school to discuss Peter's behaviour. He has been involved in a fight with another boy which has resulted in a life-threatening injury. For this reason I would appreciate it if you and Peter could meet me in my office at 0915 tomorrow (Thursday) morning. If this is not convenient please ring the school secretary to arrange a more convenient time, but do not send Peter to school until we have met. I understand that Peter has some martial arts training which is laudable, but he must understsand the dangers of using his skills indiscriminately". I am, Yours D. Enfield, Headmaster. I looked at Peter. "A shoulder throw?" I said. He nodded, still sniffing. "You threw him onto his back on a hard playground?" Another sniff. "You do realise you could paralyse him for life, or even kill him?" A fresh bout of sobbing ensued as he buried his face in the cushions. "Luke", I called. A small head appeared from behind the settee. "Do me a favour Luke, " I said. " Can you sit with Peter while I serve dinner up?" He nodded and sat on the settee. He put his arms round Peter and hugged him. I noticed the slight tenting in the front of Luke's trousers, but dismissed the thought. I'd got enough to deal with without that. Dinner, despite the deliciousness of the cottage pie, was a quiet affair. Homework was soon disposed of and bedtime drew nigh. For once I allowed Peter to sleep with me on a school night. I slept sandwiched between he and Luke. Several times during the night I awoke to the vibrations of one or the other doing what small boys do. Thursday morning saw us showered and breakfasted early. Dave came to work with Luke so I left for school with the boys. Peter and I alighted at the primary school leaving Simon to ride on to Pinner High School. I followed Peter through the corridors and knocked on the Headmaster's door. A smartly dressed young lady answered it. "You have to be Mr Cummings, " she told me. I resisted the temptation to give a smart answer to that. She invited us to sit, and then knocked and entered the inner office. In a moment she was back. "Mr. Cummings, can you go through to see Mr. Enfield? Peter, just stay here for the moment please." I found a short, balding man in his late forties sitting behind the desk in the inner office. He glanced up and I found that he was endeavouring to keep a stern expression on a face that simply was not designed for it. The crows feet alongside his eyes told of an entirely different expression and the eyes twinkled in spite of all he could do to prevent it. "Mr. Cummings," he said in a voice that sounded surprisingly young, " do sit down". I shook his hand and did so. "Most people call me Jonah," I told him. "And most people call me Don," he replied, " but I think a bit of formality will serve our purpose here this morning. " "And what purpose is that?" I enquired. "Jonah, it is my job to provide education" he responded, " and if any child deserves an education it is Peter Khan. but I currently have a child in intensive care because of a combination of Peter's good nature, his sense of right, his compassion and courage, combined with his martial arts skills. How do you suggest I address that?" Wow! That was smooth. Recognise the aggression, diffuse it by use of my Christian name, after he said he wouldn't, state my case rather than his own and come in with a left hook at the last. This man is good. "Mr Enfield" I said reverting to his former strategy, " Peter needs to be made to understand the enormity of this. In the old days corporal punishment would have done the trick. Now you have no such weapon in your armoury and neither have I. We can only tell him. I have told him, I expect you have told him. His older brother has told him, He has even told himself. I've had him sobbing all night, not with self-pity, but with remorse. There is only so much telling him we can do. " He walked to the door and threw it open. "Peter come in here please" he ordered. He sat down again as Peter came and stood beside my chair. "Peter, " he said," bullying is wrong and we shouldn't stand for it. We don't stand for it. You are right to feel angry when somebody picks on a smaller or weaker party. You are right not to stand by and let it happen. You have to do something, but you have to do the right something. If you had blacked Porter's eye for him I would have applauded, after all he hit you first. He would be standing where you are standing now. If you had fetched a member of staff we would all have applauded. Mrs. Tebbit arrived on the scene only seconds too late. But I have the wrong man standing on the carpet because you were stupid. You had to use the techniques you were categorically told NOT to use when they were taught to you. Porter has an operaton this morning to try to reposition his lumbar vertibrae where they should be. They are hoping his spinal chord has not been damaged. He may never walk again. If he had landed differently you would have killed him. STAND UP STRAIGHT! If you are big enough to put a boy in intensive care, you are big enough to stand up when faced with the consequences. Now, under the circumstances you are suspended for the rest of this week. By Monday we should have some idea how Porter is doing. Report to this office on Monday morning". I stood and thanked the headmaster. Wordlessly I took Peter home. I telephoned the office. I would be in tomorrow, but there was no way I could go in today. Dave met us at the door. "I'm declaring a coffee break" he said, "We're doing swimmingly. Oh! ........ Do you want to talk about it?" "Talk to Peter," I said, "I've had it". I sat down on the settee and buried my face in my hands. "Luke," Dave ordered, "get your Dad a cup of tea. He looks like he needs it. Peter, upstairs. Prayer meeting. We need one of those too". He ushered Peter upstairs while Luke poured. I sat and sobbed and my boy sat beside me, patting my hand. I don't know how long we sat like that but, after a while, Peter came down and sat beside me too." "I'm sorry" he said simply. " Dave says God still loves me, but it's hard to love myself". I didn't know what to say. I said nothing. After a few moments Peter got up and walked back upstairs. Dave motioned for Luke to follow him. Dave walked round behind the settee. I felt him place his hands on my head as he said, "The Grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your Spirit. Amen" I could speak then. "Amen," I said. "Thank you Dave". "Jonah, none of this is your fault. You're in shock on behalf of your boy, right?" "I don't know", I replied. " He put a boy on the floor at Christmas. Maybe if I'd handled that differently there wouldn't be a boy in intensive care now". "Maybe", he said, "maybe not. You can't know that. Only God knows. Best leave it to Him". "You think I'm just feeling sorry for myself?" "Coffee break's over", he said. "Luke and I are practising drawing letters until dinner time and, since you and Peter are here, we can all four do that. After dinner we will be playing Monopoly with a difference". There wasn't a good argument against any of that, so I went back to school for the day. Actually it was fun to be working alongside Luke as he learned, and Peter seemed less tearful too. Lunch consisted of meat-paste sandwiches. After an hour or so of Monopoly without houses hotels or money (Dave had a second die with figures rather than dots, so it became necessary to add both kinds of numbers) I say, after an hour of this, Dave declared an hour of religious studies while Peter and I made dinner. We prepared Chicken Tikka Massala, with both rice and naan, and Peter made some custard to go with stewed prunes. Simon arrived as Dave left. I bet Dave didn't expect to be taking on all this trauma when he took the job. We dined without further hysterics and then I found that I had an email from Jake.