Madz the Unruly Student Chapter 2: Achazi

Madz,

the Unruly Student

Book 1 “Away, Away, just Away!”

Ruwen Rouhs

Chapter 2

Punishment and Reward

In the afternoon class, before the last lesson, a math lesson, teacher Beck intercepted me in the hallway of the school, "Come with me! I'll show you what to do as punishment for the next five days." He pulled me by the sleeve to the shed next to the school. When he unlocked the padlock of the door, I felt queasy. Was he going to lock me in? Then I breathed a sigh of relief, because he pointed first to an empty basket and then this finger at me! "Magnus, as punishment you will carry wood to my study under the roof for the next five days. You clean the round iron stove, fill it with logs, and set them on fire. Now at the end of April it is still too cold in the evening when I have to correct the tests or the homework." When I looked at him questioningly, "You're the best at math anyway. You can miss class today!" Then he pulled a bunch of keys out of his pocket. "Here. Do you know where I live? Upstairs under the roof? You'll find the room. The other door in the attic leads to the bathroom."

Teacher Beck's study was quite large. It served not only as a study, but it was his whole apartment. It was the study, the living room, the bedroom and the kitchen all at the same time. I was amazed and looked around it first. The wide bed with the nightstand next to it took up a large part of the room. Next to the entrance was a closet and in the corner was the iron stove. In front of the window on the desk books and notebooks were piled up.

The window looked south across the parish garden and across the river to the forest on the other side of the valley. Among the books and notebooks, a telephone blinked. On the wall to the right and left of the desk were bookshelves. On the shelves books, all sorts of odds and ends like fossils, tins with old coins, a pair of binoculars and a broken dagger were lined up. There was a small round table at the foot of the bed and besides it an upholstered armchair.

First, I swept the cold ashes out of the stove, then I shoveled wood into the firebox, stuffed newspaper between the logs, and fired up. As the smoke billowed back into the room I remembered to open the damper to the fireplace. When the fire was burning and I opened the window and aired the room.

What was I supposed to do now? After all, I had just served half an hour of my sentence. The bed was not made. Therefore, I patted the pillow, straightened the blanket, and smoothed it out. Still twenty minutes until the end of the class! I began to look around more closely. There were books and exercise books on the desk, the pile of books on the right end, the exercise books on the left. Next, I browsed through the notebooks. I knew the names on the note books. They belonged to students from the fourth grade. Some of the notebooks were dog-eared. The dog-eared notebooks were mostly boys', and matched the names on the cover labels.

In the middle of the desk was a thick tome. "Greek History and Mythology" was embossed in gold letters on the cover. Under the title was a picture of a naked man, with lightning bolts in one hand. Teacher Beck had already shown us the picture. It depicted Zeus, the supreme god of the ancient Greeks.

Zeus had a beard, otherwise he was naked. Something was funny! Zeus was tall and packed with muscles. His cock, however, was small, certainly smaller than mine, maybe the size of a five-year-old's! A real cocklet, I was familiar with that. Was only his cock so tiny or was it the one of the other gods too? And how about my heroes, Hector, Odysseus, Heracles and Patroclus? I knew the names from reading books, because I loved history! I had to browse this book for more imagines of mythological heroes. I opened the book and began to search. My willie had already chubbed up when I had looked at the picture of Zeus. In the meantime, he was rock hard, no more willie anymore but a woody.

First, I opened the table of contents. I was about to turn the page when I noticed a bookmark. It was sticking out of the top of the book. Had teacher Beck marked a story with a bookmark and wanted to tell us about it later? I became even more curious. If I read the story today, then I could amaze him with my knowledge in the next lesson! I flipped open the book to where the bookmark was.

Another surprise! On the bookmark, a postcard, an eagle held a fat, whining child in its talons. He was dragging it through the air! The little boy's face was contorted in terror and he peed in fright. I had heard all kinds of stories about kidnappings, of girls kidnapped by young men or by old evil men. I had heard of boys who had been kidnapped and murdered, but no story in which a baby-boy had been kidnapped by an eagle. Did the eagle want to eat him? The eagle also didn't seem strong enough to carry the fat boy through the air to his far away eyrie. On the back of the postcard was written, Rembrandt "Rape of Ganymede". Rembrandt was a painter, I knew that. But would he paint something so unlikely?

I read the heading of the chapter that began where the card had been. It was titled: "The Rape of Ganymede". The second page of the chapter was adorned with a completely different picture. It was a marble statue of a beautiful boy handing a bowl with water to an eagle. The boy was so handsome that I liked him immediately. This was definitely not the crying child that the eagle carried away. Or had the ugly child become a handsome prince? But why did he offer the eagle something to drink?

I was so puzzled about what this Ganymede and this eagle were all about that I almost peed in my pants when someone behind me cleared his throat loudly and put his hands on my shoulders. I wheeled around, or at least tried to, when a familiar voice stated, "So that's what you're doing in my room! Snooping in my books." The words didn't sound angry though, more like proud! It was my class teacher, Teacher Beck. He said mischievously, "Today at noon I put the book here specially to find out what else you are interested in besides picking candies."

Now I was really getting hot. With a red head I said shyly, "Of course I'm interested in other things than " rather swallowed the word pilfer and said, "But I don't have so many books and certainly not," and now my ears got all hot, "like this, with stories and......" I hesitated for a moment and then said "gods". Actually, "naked men" was on my train. "Are you mad at me for touching the book? I washed the soot off my hands first."

Mr. Beck first tousled my hair, then turned the office chair I was sitting on around and laughed at me. "Mad? No! Why should you be, Magnus? Have you started reading the saga of Zeus and Ganymede yet?" When I looked at him surprised, "Well, of Ganymede and the eagle, because in the story Zeus had turned into an eagle to carry off the shepherd boy Ganymede to Mount Olympus. He had fallen head over heels for him!" When I shook my head questioningly, he said, "You should read the legend yourself, but not now. Sit down on the edge of the bed and let me sit on the swivel chair, then I'll briefly tell you the contents of the saga, otherwise you won't be able to sleep all night because of curiosity and I'll have a row with your mother. But after that you must go home, otherwise she will think that an eagle has kidnapped you." Then he began to tell.

In bed I had to think about the legend of the eagle and Ganymede for a long time. Remembering the picture of the eagle and the crying toddler, I hardly could imagine how Zeus had fallen in love with Ganymede and why he had transformed into an eagle, just to abduct him and raise him to his cupbearer. Imagining the cute cupbearer, I could understand the deity. Then I pondered about what else Zeus had done with Ganymede. The story did not leave any room for it. Zeus falls in love with a shepherd, that is, with a boy? Could that be true?

Falling in love with a boy? Yes, I could imagine it. But with a shepherd? I knew only one shepherd in Gondersdorf. I liked him and visited him from time to time in wintertime, when he was herding the sheep on harvested fields. But my shepherd was neither handsome with his disheveled beard nor did he smell good. He always stank like a ram. In contrast, the young shepherd who held out the bowl for the eagle to drink was beautiful, more beautiful than my schoolmates. Well after all he was made of marble, and not of flesh and blood.

Would I have kidnapped him if I had been Zeus? I don't know. But I wasn't Zeus, more like the beautiful boy. But I wasn't beautiful either, at least not as beautiful as the one in the illustration! Thinking about Ganymede and Zeus got me all mixed up. I couldn't fall asleep and only came to rest by polishing my meat again, while imagine Ganymede. But in this instant not as a marble statue, but......!

The next day was a Wednesday, the day before the first of May, a holiday. I was quite anxious to see if I should bring wood to teacher Beck's room again today and light the stove. Of course, he came after the fourth lesson, pressed the key into my hand, "You already know what you have to do. Bring up the wood, but don't light it." I wondered.

When I came into the attic room with the basket of full of wood, the bed was already made and on the small round table lay the book next to a bag of raspberry candy. Next to it lay an envelope on which was written:

For Magnus

The letter inside was written in the same beautiful writing:

Dear Ganymede,

Do you like raspberry candy?

They are certainly not meant as a reward for your black deeds! They are for your help and the joy I have in you as a teacher! Enjoy them!

I'm leaving right after the last class. We will not see each other until Friday. You can start reading the saga about Ganymede and the Eagle, if you still feel like it after cleaning my stove. If you don't finish the book today, you can come back tomorrow and continue reading. You have the key.

Happy First of May!

Don't forget to lock the door.

See you soon!

Pollux

I rubbed my eyes in amazement! Who was Pollux? Or rather, why did my class teacher call me Ganymede and sign his name Pollux, when his first name was Paul? But why had he actually written the letter and signed it that way? Who was Pollux or better why did he call himself Pollux?

Man, man, man! Questions upon questions. So many, that I lost the desire to read.

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Authors Note

This is the English version of the story posted in German language. My native language is German and my English is very inept. I hope you don’t mimd.

Comments, reviews, questions and complaints are welcomed. Please send them to ruwenrouhs@hotmail.de.

And I would like to add, thanks for reading.

The author copyrights this story and retains all rights. This work may not be duplicated in any form -- physical, electronic, audio, or otherwise -- without the author's expressed permission. All applicable copyright laws appl.

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