The Huntress Book 1 Memories (3 page)

"Dear God, she broke her nose!”

I hear a flurry around me.

“You broke my nose! You broke my nose!”

Vera, that's her name, by the way, cries and
screams. From what I know, she might hurt very badly. But it's
certain that she will remain with her nose flattened for the rest
of her life.

“Someone comes!”

Vera is just getting increasingly
hysterical.

“What's going on here? Vera, what's the
matter with you?”

Yap, Mrs. Sheldon, the English teacher, is
very intrigued by what happened; especially as such incidents do
not happen.

“That… that… poverty... Broke my nose! Call
an ambulance or something! And the police! Call the police!”

I stick back at her and she stunts in fear,
her hands on her nose, with blood streaming down her blouse.

“You want some more?” I ask her, still
angry.

I feel that my entire body is shaking with
the need to hit something or someone. I don't know, however, that
it would be a better thing to do. I have to control my anger,
because I am convinced that I would get worse, as if I would do a
foolish crisis in which there I no longer take account of
anything.

“Geoffe!” Mrs. Sheldon admonishes me. “Stop
right now! Tune immediately in the director's office! Now”!

I pass with indifference among the rest of
the class. They look at me with a certain fear now. Their eyes are
still disapproving, but they are no longer scornful. It's as if
they were afraid of me. I perk myself up like a turkey, full of
myself. It may seem strange, but I'm rather proud that I have, for
the first time, taken attitude. I did not expect quite break her
nose though. I cannot believe I have so much power. Maybe it was
from all those stones and boulders carried to the river, or from
the climbing in the trees, or from cutting wood in the forest with
rudimentary tools. I do not know why, but I am definitely stronger
than I suspect.

“Reformatory calls for you!”

I figure out a little later than that the
director Watson yells at me as if I was a slave, his face red, and
the vein in his neck thudded steadily and angry.

“Well, it's useless to call your parents at
school, I know that! You're all a bunch of losers!”

My heart rate starts to stir angrily, again.
Trying not to notice what he says, I look out of the window. I see
a tree, with its branches’ near the window. It has enough leaves,
so I'm trying to count them.

“Geoffe! Did you hear what I have told
you?”

I look up to Mr. Watson, who is about to make
an attack of nerves. I don't know why, but the image of him amuses
me.

“Yes, sir, “I approve, not really knowing
what.

“Headmaster Watson!” he corrected me, showing
off.

/”Yeah, yeah, whatever…”/' I say to myself,
looking straight into his eyes.

He stands my gaze for a second, then his eyes
slid somewhere to my right. Weak character, I infer. Overall, I
developed a so to speak ability to read humans’ characters.

“As for this one, you will be punished by
doing the cleaning in the school yard for two months!”

I stifle a yawn. Mr. Watson seems to notice
and his face turns red again.

“You can go, Geoffe!”

I can feel him looking at my back, while I
turn to go out the door. I know what he sees. Too short jeans, too
loosely and too tight, since they are probably two measures smaller
and a short shirt with sleeves rolled up. My bare feet I are
slipshod in some rubber slippers. However, his look is more
insistent than usual and it makes me feel uncomfortable,
differently than before. It has something in it that makes me feel
some kind of nausea.

When I came out of his office, I can see
through the window the ambulance. I smile. A whole fuss for a
miserably nose. I would at any time have I broken nose for some
nice clothes and a pair of sneakers.

No rain, but it's quite cloudy and the wind
is strong. I can’t be happier because, on this kind of weather,
nobody comes out in the yard to watch me collecting the trash. It
may seem to me, but since I was punished by the “headmaster” to
clean the school yard, this is dirtier than usual. Soda cans,
packaging of all kinds, cigarette butts, papers, gum stuck on the
fence and even snivel. At least this is what to be this sticky and
greenish stuff Next to a tree is something thrown on the ground. I
pick it up just to find that it is thin and oval, flask. At one
edge, it ends in a form of a titty I've never seen anything like it
before. I thought teens wouldn’t play with balloons at their age. I
put it in the trash bag. It is slightly sticky and it smells rather
ugly and pungent.

Suddenly, I hear a peal of laughter. From all
around. From the windows, all high school students concern me with
laughter and ridicule. I see Vera with her nose caught in splints
watching me with satisfaction.

“I always pay my debts.” She says to me.

I do not know what the reason for laughing so
hard at me is. However, even if I don't know the reason is, the
moment fills me with nerves. I gnash my teeth, trying to control
myself. I don't want to be the one who resigns.

The laughter suddenly stops, as in command. I
look around to see what the reason for the miracle is and I see the
dude gathering the trash with me. It seems that he either does not
feel disturbed by the quite low temperature. I look at his fine
shoes as they fill with dust.

“What are you doing?” I asked as a fool, for
it is obvious what he does.

“Isn’t that obvious?” he asks me in a calm
tone.

Instead, however, his tone calming me down, I
get angrier.

“You know what? Why don’t you let me do my
job, and you go among those like you and do what you know better?
And that is laughing at those like me? Come on, go!”

He glanced his strange yellow eyes at me.
Instead of walking, he keeps picking the trash with the same
quiet.

“Do you need some help?”

I suddenly turned toward the unfamiliar voice
I hear.

About my stature, with a dash of quite
slender, but not overly thin, there is another guy, with brown hair
combed after the latest fashion. He wears brand sneakers, and brand
dressed. I don't know what brand his jeans are, but his shirt has
the unmistakable Nike logo. If they hadn't had the same strange
colored eyes, I would never guess that he was Dane’s brother,
Sky.

“It never hurts an extra helping hand.” says
Dane.

I feel humiliated by their attitude. I know I
should be grateful, but I cannot afford this luxury. I can,
instead, to apologize.

“Listen,” I say to Dane, “I'm sorry I snapped
you.”

He gave me one of his strange looks. I can
see he is amused now. But I can see that he’s not laughing at
me.

“Hello! I am Sky! And you Patricia, have I
got it right?”

He, as well as his brother, does not stretch
out his hand.

“Hello.” Came my answer to him. As a matter
of fact I'd rather be called Pat”

“But Pat's a name for a boy!” Sky
protests.

He has a spark in his eyes. He’s not distant.
And he's not condescending to me. I like him, although I didn’t
intend to. I shrug.

“It suits me. I do not differ greatly from
one of them.”

“Are you serious? I've heard something
else.”

And his eyes slid languidly toward his
brother. I seem to hear a snarl. It sounds like an animal growl. I
look at him, a little surprised. But he only concerns his brother
odd, as they communicated only by looks. I look at Sky. He shrugs
and smiles. I am not interested in their silent conversations.

“Anyway,” Sky speaks again. “I'm glad to meet
you. I've heard enough about you.”

I looked at him again, harder. I could pretty
imagine what he would be able to hear. The words that I've heard
since I was a kid: "Scumbag", "Poverty", "Misery", "Beggar",
"Hunger-glance" and so many others that I don't even remember them
all.

“Yeah, I'm sure.”

My tone is pretty harsh and challenging. It
seems that he notices it, and he quickly adds:

“Only the good stuff, I assure you.”

The idea itself seems so hilarious that I
burst out laughing.

“Yes, I can imagine that.”

The brothers seem a little uncomfortable

“You know, I heard a lot about you too”. I
said.

At once, their relaxed attitude changes to a
tense one. Their eyes seem like being warned. They looked at each
other again, cautiously. I told you that I understand and I
interpret the eyes of those around me.

“Seriously? And what that might be?”

“Well, the entire high school talks only
about the two of you.”

The atmosphere expands suddenly, even though
I do not know what the reason for which they were both tense was.
Sky laughs. His brother doesn't seem amused, however. Even though,
it seems to me that he is a little bothered that I speak so much
with his brother.

“Including you?” Sky asks me oblivion.

I no longer want to joke. My smile suddenly
fades.

“It might seem funny to you that all these
geese around here to crouch in front of the two of you, but please,
believe me, that I am not part of them. And now I ask you to excuse
me, I have work to do.”

I suddenly take the garbage bag in my hand to
get out of them.

“Hey!”

“Sky, don’t!”

Sky puts his hand on my shoulder to stop me.
And he withdraws it as suddenly as he put it. Dane's voice overlaps
to his brother, warning. I find it normal for them to feel
disgusted by my appearance that denotes so much poverty and misery.
I looked at him, angry.

“What?” I snarled at Sky.

“I didn't mean to upset you. I was only
joking.”

“In addition,” I hear Dane’s “I heard about
the broken nose of Vera and it seems that the reason for that was
the two of us.”

His superior smile infuriates me to the
climax.

“It is totally false. The fight started
because she insulted me, not because of the two of you! If the idea
would not be so annoying, I might even laugh. I never, in my life,
heard of a more absurd reason for a conflict. For my part, you can
be with any these stupid geese, with the entire high school. I
couldn’t care less. What bothers me is that people treat me up just
because I don’t have their clothing and their living
conditions.”

They look at me carefully, but also with a
certain sympathy. Their freak, unusual eyes move continuously on my
figure, to come to a standstill, however, with insistence on the
vein on my neck that struggles furiously. Their irises glow
strangely and without realizing it, I feel like I go to shivers.
The moment passes quickly, however, and the high tension in the air
dissipates. It's sympathy again in their eyes. What makes me be
slightly more cordial.

“Anyway, thanks for your help. It was kind of
your part to gather out in the yard the garbage with me, even if
your clothes significantly improved.”

I know it's a bit of irony in my voice, but I
can't help it.

“Perhaps we don't look up anyone, than those
fools, and you are far from being a fool.”

What Dane has just said to me made me raise
my eyes to him. I did not give him the reply, but I note in my
mind.

I return to my job. The remaining students
are still perched on the windows, but no one is laughing. On the
contrary. All the girls are but green with envy. I bet if they knew
that not one ,but both brothers Stoler will talk to me, would have
preferred a thousand times to collect not only the garbage in the
yard, but in the whole town. Unfriendly faces begin to disappear,
one by one, from the windows. I go with my job, but I must admit
that now I do it with some satisfaction.

I do not know how that day went on. The fact
is the evening came faster than I expected.

“The headmaster wants to see you, Geoffe.”
The administrator announces me.

What does he want now? The administrator’s
speculative gaze irritates me.

“Did you call for me, sir?”

“Aaaah! Geoffe! Of course…”

I take a sit in a corner chair. I have a
cautious state, as something unpleasant is about to happen. The
director’s gaze creates an alarm in my head. For a moment long
enough, he doesn’t say anything. He just looks at me. From my head
to toe. I feel increasingly uncomfortable.

“Well?”

The director startled as I would have
awakened him from dreaming.

“What? Aaaah, yes...”

He rose from his chair behind the desk and
then he approaches me with the steps of the devil. My first
instinct is to jump and break up the run. I do not even know why. I
imagine things that are not. It's like being in danger, but you do
not know how to define it. The director’s eyes have a strange misty
glow. I cannot give it a name, but I feel disgust and fear.
Outside, there is downright dark, but the branch of the tree in the
yard that touches the glass makes a noise. The director does not
seem to hear it, but suddenly I look in that direction. I do not
see anything strange, but I feel like someone looks at us. I have
the same feeling I had on the river. Although I don't see anyone, I
feel a strange presence. Then my attention is again distracted by
the attitude of the Director. He leans too much toward me and put
his hands on one side and the other on the chair I sit. This
approach seems to be prohibited and hideous. I try to put some
distance between me and him and I lean a little on my back. It
seems that I thought quite stupid this movement, because he is
getting closer and I already feel the edge of the chair in my
spine, a sign that I don't have where to go further than that.

“You and me… we could understand each other
very well, Geoffe. Patricia... It's your name, is not it? Patricia.
A very cute name. And you're really pretty.”