File
Male teacher in a classroom.

Jarmila Jackson, Contributor

It was so casual, so simple that Damian wondered if she had even seen him, whether or not the meal she ordered was for him until the voice on the other end of the intercom asked the definitive question, "What flavour soda with the Kids Meal?"

The woman in the car looked at Damian and repeated the question.

He was so stunned, he couldn't answer, not even as much as a stutter.

"Pepsi or whatever," the woman answered when she realised he was not going to. She drove towards the payment window.

Silently, he followed, and his heart swelled with pride as the woman confirmed to the one at the window that Damian in fact was not bothering her.

Afraid to think, afraid to breathe, he stood there, watching the two women talk as they waited to receive their orders, and his, and when they laughed, he smiled for only a second before returning to his sullen look, for fear that they might see that he was happy and change their minds.

His heart swelled with pride again as the woman confirmed to the one at the pick-up window that the food in the other bag belonged to him, then again when she asked for his toy, for a moment he felt like his mother was back, but only for a moment.

Damian waited in his spot until they were out sight before stuffing his face, the burger first. He would save the fries as a treat for later.

In that instant, Damian went from rock-bottom to feeling like the luckiest person on earth. He could not understand their kindness or why they thought he deserved it, but he was grateful, for his hunger was satisfied, and he had something to show for it.

Marcel cackled as he clutched the hard plastic toy in his hand, "Weh u a do wid Spongebob toy?"

It was more like an indictment than a question, and it called the attention of the other boys, who started laughing and walking towards the two for a closer look.

Damian's anger boiled and, in a flash of rage, he pushed Marcel who then lay unconscious in the middle of the road.

Fearful, Damian picked up his toy, which had flown from Marcel's hands when he had pushed him, and sped off, without even checking once to see if he had been spotted or followed.

He darted across the street, feeling that same rush of adrenaline he'd felt earlier. He quickly disappeared into the underground parking lot of an insurance building, but decided against staying there for fear he might get caught.

Lunchtime was over at the primary school and Damian watched with a heavy heart as his friends returned to their classes. He had caught up with Melissa and Philip on their way back from the corner shop, where they had gone to buy sweets and he told them what had happened.

After assuring them that as far as he could tell, Marcel was alright, they suggested that he come back to school with them. He could hide in the gardener's shed until school was over.

The shed was damp and lonely and smelled of mould and only made Damian think about Marcel more. He looked at his toy, sighed, and then put it in his pocket.

He really never meant to hurt him. He didn't know what had come over him, just a sudden impulse. He had, in fact, wanted to push him. He felt it and to some part of him it felt good. Marcel deserved it for always being mean to him. But he hoped it wasn't serious.

Damian was bored. The shed was making him nauseous. There was no harm in stepping outside for some air, no one would see him, they were all in class.

Unlike most children his age, Damian had liked school when he was there. He liked playing in the schoolyard at lunchtime with his friends, even hand games like those he saw Melissa and Lara playing earlier.

He liked the classroom as well, and the little notes he and his classmates would pass making fun of the teachers. What he enjoyed most about the classroom though was composition. He loved to be left alone to his imagination, turning topics like 'My Holiday Weekend' into a complete fantasy. He often got scolded for lying, but he liked to write them anyway.

He was curious, he wanted to know what they were doing in there, what he was missing. He crept towards the room and he Charley go into.

There were some windows there that were open, maybe he could take a peek without getting caught. He stooped by the window, and slowly lifted his head to the window closest to the ground and strained his neck to look at the blackboard.

'Spelling'. He hadn't been that much of a speller when he was in school, but he figured, since he had nothing better to do, why not challenge himself with the words a little, and have a little laugh at the people who got the words wrong?

"Ability, A-B-I-L-I-T-Y", said a perky little girl in the front row, pleased with herself, she grinned and sat down.

"Very good, Susan," said the teacher, a well-dressed man of around 35.

"Amy", he said to the girl biting her nails behind Susan, "Please spell abuse."

"Ahhm", said Amy standing slowly, "Abuse, A, B, U, Z É." she was interrupted by Charley and another boy in the back row, who were snickering at her error.

Immediately, she sat back down and started scribbling in her note book, holding her head down to hide her face.

Damian giggled a little too, then quickly ducked when the teacher glanced in his direction.

"I'm sorry that is incorrect Amy, would you like to try?"

Damian lifted his head to see who would be the next victim and when he did, his eyes met with those of the teacher.

He froze in his place, hoping that he hadn't seen him. He didn't want to move and give him a chance to.

"I'm talking to you, young man"

The teacher was walking towards the window. The entire class turned to meet his gaze. About 15 eyes met his in that moment. Lara and Charley exchanged worried glances. Damian stood.

His first instinct was to turn and run in the opposite direction, but he didn't feel like running anymore.

"Abuse, A-B-U-S-E", he said, staring blatantly into the man's face.

"What is your name, child?" asked the man.

"Damian," he said, losing his nerve a little when he realised the man had a welcoming expression on his face.

"Hello Damian, my name is Rick Williams. Come in and have a seat."

It was because of that - the benevolence of a stranger - that the dirty, smelly boy walked through the open door.

- Jarmila Jackson